The first pitch was scheduled for 10:30 a.m., but 50 men - divided among four teams - were at the John Perzel Community Center in Mayfair by 9:30, shagging flies and making jokes.

"On the day of the game," quipped Art Dustman, 83, in left field, "the manager looks in the obituary column. If he doesn't see your name, he puts you into the lineup."

These men may not have too many opening days left in life, but they don't think that way. They feel like boys again on that ball field, at least in terms of camaraderie, competitiveness and hope.

They high-five one another and chatter like Little Leaguers - "you're a hitter, Bobby, you're a hitter" - and share the same hope that exists at every level of baseball, that the next trip to the plate, for instance, will bring that big hit.

"For two hours, we are kids again," said Andy Commentucci, the league commissioner. He helped found the league in 2005. Most of the players graduated from an over-60 league that has been around for a decade.

The teams play twice a week in spring and fall. The Mayfair Community Development Corp. helped get sponsors, who provided uniforms and equipment for each team.

Some of the men, like the home-run-hitting Rodgers, play on two and three teams for aging ballplayers, from Bucks County to South Jersey and Delaware. Rodgers says he will now play six games a week (and, a widower, still dance three nights a week at local fire halls).

Bob Grispino, 72, had another game yesterday at 6 p.m. in Bucks - a doubleheader.

Frank Hosack, 75, who got a pacemaker in October, plays on an over-75 travel team and went to Utah and Florida last season.

Games are competitive, and, in theory, Commentucci said, players are supposed to provide a driver's license or birth certificate to prove their ages.

These men may have their share of ailments and artificial joints, but at many points yesterday, they looked like ballplayers of any age:

Wayne Fox, 70, dropping to one knee at shortstop to field sharply hit grounders and popping up with grace to throw the ball across the diamond.

Hosack, leaning against the fence, watching his teammate bat, his own batting gloves tucked neatly, perfectly, into the back pocket of his white baseball pants.

Grispino, an infielder, raising two fingers on his throwing hand and pirouetting, so all of his teammates could see there were two outs.

This league does have some unusual rules.

Teams play 11 men, rather than nine, with an extra infielder behind second base and a fourth outfielder. There are two first bases, to avoid collisions - one for the baseman to stand on, and another beside it for the base runner to touch.

(Bob Turner, 74, was actually called out on a clean infield hit because he stepped on the wrong first base. A minor argument ensued, but nobody was ejected.)

Anyone may have a pinch runner at any time. Ed Decker, 77, for instance, singled but then was replaced on first base. "I did have bypass surgery," he said.

At game time yesterday, the sun was shining, with a nip in the air - perfect for opening day.

There was one fan, a lone wife, Shirley Hosack, 77, way out in right field in her folding chair, with a winter coat, hood, blanket and gloves. She was keeping track of runs and hits in a spiral notebook.

"I love sports, and my husband is the pitcher," she said. "And I'd rather do this than clean my house."

The Bobcats, missing three starters, were no match for the defending champion Royals in the opener. But one excuse was worth noting:

"You know why they won?" quipped Jim Bruce, 74, a player for the Bobcats. "They had younger guys."