PITTSFIELD — The leadoff batter for the Hartford Senators stepped to the plate at Wahconah Park yesterday.

"High zone, sir," he said to umpire James Farry, who was positioned about 15 feet and to the right of Pittsfield Elms catcher Jeff "Backhoe" Reynolds, nodded and called out to Pittsfield Elms thrower Terry "Lefty" Bishop, "Batter has requested high zone."  Bishop nodded, wound up and sent the baseball spinning toward home plate.  The ball came in by about the batter's belt buckle. Too low. Ball one, intoned Farry.  Bishop's pitch would have been a strike in most leagues. But the batter had requested high pitches, and Bishop's pitch was too low for the high zone, if you understand the situation.

Welcome to the world of vintage base ball.

The Elms, with Bishop winning two games, went undefeated in the inaugural Pittsfield Elms Vintage Base Ball Tournament held at Wahconah and Clapp parks this weekend.  Vintage base ball (the term was two words until the early 20th century) is baseball played by 19th-century rules. Some teams play by the rules of 1861, which allowed no gloves and underhand pitching.  Other teams, including the eight teams that played yesterday, play by the rules of 1886, which allow thin, golf-like gloves for fielders and overhand pitching.  The Elms dominated the competition, beating the Westfield Wheelmen 13-1 behind a no-hitter by Bishop. In the semifinals, Pittsfield defeated the Simsbury Taverneers 19-7 behind a fine performance by pitcher B.J. Jefferson. The finale saw Pittsfield club the Senators, 16-7, with Bishop striking out seven and allowing only six hits.

Also among the eight teams were nines from Boston, Elizabeth City, New Jersey, Waterbury and Newtown , CT.  Although the game is recognizable as baseball, there are huge differences in the game that is seen regularly on television and to which fans (or "cranks," or "bugs," in 19th-century terminology) were treated yesterday.  For one thing, the tiny gloves make every ball struck into the field a potential hit. The tiny gloves do not enable fielders to make one-handed catches too often. With no webbing in the gloves, high pop flies must be caught two-handed in sort of a basket motion. And the ball doesn't always nestle into the glove very well. Both teams saw outfielders bobble high hits for errors.

"Every play is an adventure," said third baseman Sean "Itch" McMahon. "When you see the ball coming toward you, the best thing to do is knock it down and try to throw the guy out."  Of course, conceded McMahon, the problem is that the first baseman has an equally tiny glove, and trying to gun the ball more often than not results in an error. The trick, he said, is to try to sacrifice velocity for accuracy.  "The gloves are great teaching tools," said McMahon, who is an assistant coach at Hoosac Valley High School. "We use them in drills."

The best evidence of the "tiny glove" syndrome came in the fifth inning, with Elms batter Pat "The Gun" Ryan up. Ryan drilled a shot into the gap that a Senators' player dove for and missed. The ball rolled all the way to the 374 sign in center field, and Ryan tore around the bases for an inside-the-park home run. The climax of the play was a throw from the outfield to the Hartford catcher. The throw was pretty much on the money, but the catcher had to concentrate on trying to field the ball with Ryan bearing down on him. He muffed it and Ryan scored.

The Elms' catcher is Backhoe Reynolds, a former star at St. Joseph's High School. He displays a lot of what would be called "ginger" in 1886. That means he's tough.  The Backhoe, unlike many of his vintage contemporary catchers, sets up right behind the batter, in part to give his pitcher a bigger target.  But this is a problem. As with many vintage backstoppers, Reynolds wears a catcher's mitt that is only incrementally larger than the fielders' gloves. The first time he caught a vintage game, about three years ago, Reynolds recalled that his catching hand was so swollen the knuckles were invisible.  And, of course, in the 19th century, there were no shin pads, no knee guards, no real chest protector and no hard helmets. Foul tips are the bane of a vintage catcher's existence.  Yesterday, Reynolds took a pitch on the shin, a couple on the instep, a couple more off the shoulder and one on the inner thigh. But he kept the ball in front of him for the most part, and Hartford took only three bases on passed balls.

"Your catcher is your key player," said Elms manager Paul Procopio. "If you have a good catcher, you'll have a chance to win every game."

Bishop, his battery mate, was a flame-throwing lefty in his high school and minor league incarnation. Now, admits Bishop, he has to focus more on pitching to spots, especially since the vintage rules require him to place the ball where the batter desires it.  "You have to rely more on off-speed and junk stuff," he said. "But at the same time, you can still pick your spots and throw hard from time to time."  But pitchers do have weapons. For instance, the so-called "quick pitch" is legal in vintage base ball. So at one point, Bishop and Reynolds realized that one of the Hartford players was taking too much time in the batters box. Bishop gunned in a pitch for strike two, got the ball back quickly from Reynolds, and zipped the ball in for strike three while the batter was still knocking dirt off his spikes.  "You can't step out of the batters' box in this game," Procopio said.

If there was one disappointment, it was the crowd, which numbered maybe 125, many from out of town.  "There are more Hartford fans here," admitted Procopio. "We still have to work on selling this game here. But everyone in the crowd had fun today, including the teams."