A Baseball Journey

Baseball has been a major part of my life.To me, baseball is any game played with a bat and ball.  The ball can be a regular baseball or hardball, a large softball, a whiffle ball, a tennis ball, or any type ball struck with a bat, or stick.  The game played can be over the line, knock up and lay down, organized teams or any variation of these games.  As such, I have been involved in baseball as a player, coach, umpire or spectator since 1945.  My first memories of playing was while in the Fourth Grade at Douglas MacArthur Elementary School in 1945.  If one steps back and views baseball from a family standpoint, there is family baseball history that began in the early Twentieth Century.  This family history begins on Mom’s side of the family, the Grahams, and continues with the Prices.  Besides my baseball story, there are three sons, three grandsons and two step-grandsons that have played for baseball teams.  My wish is that this family baseball journey will continue into the Twenty-First Century.  How did this family history begin?

Before discussing the family baseball origins, it may be helpful to briefly recount some family history.  The essay Family Background detailed the genealogy of the Graham family  To help understand these Graham family relationships, an abbreviated genealogy chart is included for clarity. 

Abbreviated Graham Genealogy

Berta’s and my Great-Great-Grandparents, John P. Graham and Hannah Pearson Graham had eight children, four boys and four girls, all born in Lawrence, Pennsylvania.  Although there are no records discovered of their daughters’ lives, records exist that show all four sons moved to Aledo, Mercer County, Illinois.  Family research shows that only two of these sons, William Niblock Graham and Harrison Pearson Graham had families, with all children born in Aledo, Illinois.  William Niblock Graham and Sarah Ann Paxton Graham, our Great-Grandparents, had three sons and two daughters.  One son, George Pearson Graham is our Grandfather and the father of Pauline Gwendolyn Graham Price, our Mom..  Harrison Pearson Graham is our Great Grand Uncle,and he is our Grandfather’s Uncle.  Harrison Pearson Graham and Margaret E. Cool Graham had five sons and four daughters.  One of these sons was George “Peaches” Fredrick Root Graham, and he is Granddad Graham’s Cousin, and our Cousin Twice Removed.  Further, Peaches, Berta and I are Cousins because his Grandparents and our Great-Great-Grandparents are John P. Graham and Hannah Pearson Graham.  Twice Removed means there are two generations between Peaches and us.  Yes, relationships between branches of a Family Tree are complicated, if not convoluted, but reasonable once definitions are understood.  There are more branches to detail and explore.  So, be patient because there is a reason for this diving into the  genealogy weeds, trust me!  This genealogy chart also includes Peaches’ marriage to his first wife and his daughter, which provides an introduction to his life story.

George “Peaches” Fredrick Root Graham married Amelia Ada Shontz in 1901.  There are no records of where they were married.  The marriage date was obtained from another Ancestry.com family tree: its validity has not been verified.  Peaches and Amelia had a daughter, Dolphine Lenore Graham, born 19 January 1905 in Bradford, Illinois.  Bradford is about 60 miles due east of Aledo, Illinois, so it seems reasonable that they met somewhere in Western Illinois, which is where Aledo and Bradford are located.  After considerable research, I can find no biographical data for Amelia.  There are no census records of her birth place, birth date, residence or parents.  However, there is one Ancestry.com family tree that lists her birthplace as Illinois in 1880 but again no official verification.  In fact, Amelia completely disappears altogether, because Peaches re-marries ten years after Dolphine is born.  What happened to Amelia, did she die or were they divorced?   Since Dolphine is listed as living with Peaches and his new family in the 1920 Federal Census, I suspect Amelia died sometime after Dolphine's birth.  I have not uncovered any Federal Census records for Peaches for either 1900 or 1910.  Where he lived in those years is a mystery, although I have an educated guess for 1910.  He may have been in Boston in 1910 because his occupation at the time would place him in this city during the time of year census data is usually gathered.

After Peaches’ marriage to Amelia in 1901, he became a professional baseball player in 1902 at the age of 25.  He began playing for the Rock Island Islanders in Rock Island, Illinois.  The Islanders were a Class B team located about 30 miles northeast of Aledo.  Breaking into professional baseball at age 25 seems rather old, but times are different now as compared to the early Twentieth Century.  He may have been playing baseball on amateur teams or semi-pro teams when he signed with the Islanders.  Peaches was promoted to the Cleveland Bronchos in 1902 and played in one game.  The Cleveland Bronchos were a major league team in the American League, eventually becoming the Cleveland Indians in 1915.  Actually the Cleveland team began as the Bluebirds in 1901, Bronchos in 1902, Naps in 1903 before becoming the Indians in 1915.  The following table lists Peaches’ professional baseball career which ended in 1916 at the age of 39.

George “Peaches” Fredrick Root Graham’s Baseball Career

Most of Peaches 15 year baseball career was playing for Minor League teams, but he played for about seven yeas on Major League teams.  His Major League teams were in the National League with about three years with the Boston Doves, which eventually became the Boston Braves, then the Milwaukee Braves and finally the Atlanta Braves.  Hence, I believe he resided in Boston at the time of the 1910 Federal Census but have not found any records to confirm it..

Peaches was primarily a catcher, mostly as a backup, but also played both infield and outfield in some games.  He also pitched an inning or so a couple of times.  Peaches was right-handed all the way, both batting and throwing.  There are several baseball cards showing Peaches while with Boston, Chicago and Philadelphia.  I am not sure the card shown is a photo or drawing, but others are photos.

George “Peaches” Graham, Boston

There are also baseball cards with his photo and with him batting.

George “Peaches” Graham, Cather, Boston 

George “Peaches” Graham, Phillies

Peaches played in only three games total in 1902 and 1903 when called up to the Bronchos and Cubs.  He played second base for the Bronchos in two games and had two singles in six at bats for a .333 batting average.  When called up to the Cubs in 1903 he played in one game, pitching for a total of five innings with a 5.4 ERA.  During this pitching stint he went hitless in two at bats.  During his seven years in the majors, starting in 1902, he played in a total of 373 games.  He was a catcher for 298 of these games with the remaining games divided between all infield positions and the outfield.  HIs overall Major League batting average was .265, with a .288 average with the Phillies in 1912, when he hit his one and only home run.  If you are interested in the full range of baseball statistics, click on the following link:  http://www.baseball-reference.com/players/g/grahape01.shtml.

There are two stories as to the origin of his nickname Peaches.  Both stories occurred while he was playing for the Colorado Springs Millionaires.  On a road trip dare by teammate Bunk Congalton he ate a bucket of peaches.  Devouring all those peaches nauseated him and caused great gastrointestinal distress.  However, on the road trip he had nine hits in four games against the Des Moines Prohibitionists.  Despite the nausea and gastrointestinal distress. he continued to eat a peach during each game thereafter.  The second story involved Bunk making Peaches drink two gallons of homemade peach schnapps, which caused him to go blind for three days and having a good series against the St. Joseph Saints.  I rather doubt this latter story.  Whether the first story is true could also be questioned, but I believe it is probably the closest to how he received the nickname.

While researching the Graham family name, I discovered a family tree on Ancestry that contained a note about Peaches Graham,  This note claimed that Peaches was alleged to be involved in the Black Sox Scandal that occurred during the 1919 World Series.  This scandal involved eight White Sox players agreeing to be paid by gamblers for losing the World Series.  The supposition was that Peaches was the contact between the gamblers and the White Sox players.  The name of this contact was Maharg, or Graham spelled backwards.  When discovering this assertion while I was researching the Graham family name, I remembered that some Scot clans spelled their name backwards to keep from being summarily hanged, because they were considered to be outlaws (perhaps you may also remember this fact about some parts of the Graham clan).  My first thought was something like, “Uh oh, there may be an outlaw in our family’s past.”  Research on the Black Sox scandal revealed there was a Billy Maharg that was involved with the gamblers and the players.  During a trial Billy was ask if he was Peaches Graham, to which he answered, “No, but I know of him”.  Thus, there was a person named Maharg involved with the scandal, but it was not Peaches.  Considering Peaches playing career and the 1920 Federal Census records, I can positively state Peaches was not involved in any way with the Black Sox Scandal.

Peaches hung up his spikes, bat and glove in 1916 and, therefore, had been out of baseball for four years.  Plus, he had not played for a Major League team since 1912, and it was 1911 since he played with the Chicago Cubs.  Sometime after retiring from baseball, Peaches bought a farm in Brunswick, Minnesota.  According to the 1920 Federal Census he was living there with his second wife, Louise E. Adler, whom he married in 1915, daughter Dolphine and son John “Jack” Bernard Graham.  Jack had been born 24 December 1916 in Minneapolis, Minnesota.  Brunswick is located about 65 miles due north of Minneapolis.  Another abbreviated Graham genealogy chart shows Peaches marriage to Louise and their son Jack.  

Graham Genealogy with Peaches Two Families 

It should be noted that there is an anomaly concerning Jack in this 1920 Federal Census.

Jack is listed as an Adopted Son with birthplaces for a father and mother listed as Unknown!  Needless to say this blew my mind!  It seems rather incredible that Jack was born 19 months after Peaches and Louise were married, and was adopted.  Checking the 1930 and 1940 Federal Census sheets, Jack is listed as Son with birth places for father and mother that are consistent with those of Peaches and Louise.  There are several ways this anomaly can be explained, but these explanations are only assumptions that cannot be verified or confirmed.  Certainly a valid birth certificate could solve the mystery, but none has been found to date.  Based on my personal relationship with both Louise and Jack, I firmly believe Jack to be the progeny of Peaches and Louise.  I will believe this to be true until shown verifiable documentation to the contrary.  Based on this belief, Mom, Dolphine and Jack are Second Cousins since they are children of Cousins Granddad Graham and Peaches Graham.  Therefore, Dolphine, Jack, Berta and I are Second Cousins Once Removed.  Since Jack was born in Minnesota, how was it he played high school baseball in Long Beach, California?

There is a personal memory gap concerning Peaches Graham’s family history.  However, it is possible to postulate a reasonable story of their journey to California through the 1930 Federal Census list.  Even so, this story is based on some assumptions that may not be entirely valid.  There are questions surrounding the move to California.  First, since Peaches owned a farm in Minnesota, why move to California?  Second, when did the family move?  Third, why select Long Beach as the city to relocate?  As it turns out, attempts to answer these questions will generate more questions.  There are two possible answers to the first question.  First, Minnesota suffered the same severe drought in the 1920s and 1930s as the other Plains States.  This drought devastated Minnesota farms, which could have impacted Peaches’ farm, reducing its productivity and forcing its sale.  Second, Dolphine was married in 1926 to Wesley Irving Smotel, who was born in Luverne, Minnesota in 1896.  Reviewing the census data, it seems reasonable that they were married in Minnesota and probably moved to California first.  Wesley’s family owned a farm in the Southwest corner of Minnesota and would have also been impacted by the drought.  No record of their marriage has been uncovered to date.  Her marriage date of 1926 is based on the 1930 Federal Census, which lists Dolphine’s marriage age as 21 (she was born in 1905).  The 1930 Federal Census lists both the Graham and Smotel family living in Long Beach, California.  This census reveals that Wesley and Dolphine owned their home, while Peaches and Louise were renters.  Based on these facts, I suspect the Smotels probably arrived in Long Beach prior to the Grahams, which could be an answer to the third question.  Peaches may have selected Long Beach because his daughter was living there.  Whenever these families had arrived, both Wesley and Peaches had found employment by 1930.  Wesley was an oil truck driver, while Peaches was a boiler man in the oil industry.  Peaches job leads one to believe Wesley may have helped him finding this employment.  While this scenario rests on some reasonable assumptions, the assumptions could be totally wrong.  However, the facts remain that both families were living in Long Beach, California in 1930.  Jack Graham was 13 years old at the time of the 1930 census.  

Jack entered Woodrow Wilson High School in 1932 and began playing baseball in 1933 when  he was 16 years old.  He was just a Sophomore when the 1933 earthquake struck, which damaged Wilson High.  He graduated in 1935 and began playing professional baseball in 1936 at the age of 19.  Peaches died in May 1939 and legend claims Peaches was cremated and his ashes were thrown into the Pacific Ocean in a peach basket.  Whether the legend is totally accurate is not clear, but he was indeed cremated.  Unfortunately, Peaches probably did not see Jack play while in the Minor leagues, because his teams were in the Eastern part of the country.   He also never saw Jack play in the Majors either, because it was after World War II when he played at this level.  Jack and his mother Louise continued to live in Long Beach after Peaches’ passing.

The essay The Early Years: 1935 to 1941 recalled my earliest memory of Jack when I fell backward and hit my head on the fireplace bricks.  I also have a faint memory of visiting Louise after we moved to Belmont Shore in 1941.  Louise and Jack rented an apartment located about ten minutes from our apartment.  My only memory of this visit is looking at Jack’s new Plymouth Coupe that had never been driven.  It had not been driven because he was away playing baseball.  Our visit with Louise in 1941, or 1942, was the last we saw her until 1948.  It was in this year that our two families re-connected, in a most unusual manner.

In the spring of 1948 Granddad Graham pointed out that Jack Graham was playing baseball for the San Diego Padres in the Pacific Coast League (PCL).  While I remembered the previous encounters with Jack and Louise, I had no concept that we were related.  While I understood  about Aunts, Uncles and Cousins, I had no concept of other family relationships.  As a result, I understood Jack was a relative, but it was a mystery how we were related.  Eventually, I understood he was some type of Cousin, but I did not know what type.  From my standpoint, that we were related was all that was important.  Shortly after learning that Jack was playing for the Padres, his name was mentioned by another boy at Lakewood Junior High School.  I was standing with a group of Seventh Grande boys when one of them was upset that Jack’s hitting had beat the Los Angeles Angels in the previous night’s game.  These two incidents sparked my interest in Jack’s career and baseball in general.

The PCL was a AAA minor league, one level below Major League baseball.  There were eight teams in the PCL: San Diego Padres, Los Angeles Angels, Hollywood Stars, San Francisco Seals, Oakland Oaks, Sacramento Solons, Portland Beavers and Seattle Rainiers.  When the Padres played either the Angels or Stars, we listened to the game on radio.  Otherwise I had to find the box score in the newspaper to see how Jack and the Padres had done the night before.  PCL teams played a six day, seven game series, before playing another PCL team.  The series started with night games on Tuesday through Friday, with a day game on Saturday and a double header on Sunday afternoon.  This double header was a nine inning first game and a seven inning second game.  One Sunday, probably in late April or early May, Dad, Granddad and I went to see the Padres play the Los Angeles Angels at Wrigley Field.

William K. Wrigley, Jr., chewing gum magnate, built the Los Angeles  ballpark in 1925 and it was considered the finest minor league ballpark in America.  The Angels were a farm team of the Chicago Cubs, and Wrigley Field was considered a close replica of Chicago’s Wrigley Field.  Wrigley Field was located at 42nd and Avalon in South Central Los Angeles.  In 1948 Wrigley Field was located in the midst of a major Black area of the city (Translation: Negro at the time, and today would be termed African-American to be optically correct).  I saw many games at Wrigley Field over the next several years, including my first Major League game during Spring Training (an exposition game between the New York Giants and the Cleveland Indians).  I saw my one and only triple play in this game!  Wrigley Field had a two deck grandstand and a right field bleachers section.  The left field wall was ivy covered brick, just like at Wrigley Field in Chicago.  Wrigley Field operated until it was closed in 1957.  It was re-opened in 1961 for the new American League expansion team, the Los Angeles Angels.  The Angels played just the one season there, then shared Dodger Stadium through 1966 when they moved to Anaheim.  Wrigley Field was torn down in 1966.  The following photo shows an aerial view of Wrigley Field.

Wrigley Field, Los Angeles, Circa 1948

This doubleheader between the Padres and Angels were my first professional baseball games.  I do not remember who won either game or how well Jack did hitting.  Plus, I do not remember where we sat, although it was not in the right field bleachers.  What I do remember is what happened after the nightcap game.  Dad, Granddad and I stayed until the last out of the seventh inning before heading out of the ballpark to our car.  Parking at Wrigley Field was difficult because there was very limited parking in the adjacent lots.  We had parked on a side street a couple of blocks away from the ballpark.  By the time we reached out car and traffic subsided it was probably at least a 45 minutes after the game was over.  We were traveling down Avalon Boulevard when Granddad noted that Jack was riding in a car we were passing. Dad tooted his horn and Granddad waved to Jack.  Jack immediately recognized Granddad and ask his driver to pull over to the curb.  Dad followed and also pulled to the curb.  To our surprise, Jack got out of the other car and asked if we would take him home.  Dad said, “Of course!”, so Jack got his gear and climbed into our car.  Wow!  What an impression Jack made on a 12 year old boy. I was riding in the same car as the PCL home run leader—and we were related!  We took him home to a small house on Tenth Street at Obispo Avenue in Long Beach, where he and Louise lived.  Due to this chance meeting, our families became intertwined for several years.  

As a result of this chance meeting with Jack, our family began exchanging visits with Jack and Louise.  During this 1948 PCL season most of these visits were primarily with Louise because Jack was usually in San Diego, or on the road playing the other PCL teams.  Louise’s visits were primarily on weekends since she did not drive, so Dad or Mom would bring her to our house.  By the prevailing convention for adults, I called her Aunt Louise, never really questioning whether she was an Aunt.  Louise was very knowledgeable about all things baseball and I learned considerable by talking baseball with her.  It was my impression that she knew some of the Major League players that lived in Long Beach such as Vern Stephens of the Boston Red Sox and Bob Lemon of the Cleveland Indians.  Whenever the Padres were in town to play either the Angels or the Stars, we took Louise to see Jack play at either Wrigley Field or Gilmore Field.  Gilmore Field was the home field for the Hollywood Stars.  Compared to Wrigley,Field, Gilmore Field was truly a minor league ballpark.  There were no outfield bleachers, there was only one deck to the grandstand and the park could not sit as many fans.  Actually, Gilmore’s bleachers were uncovered seats located along each foul line.  These bleacher can clearly be seen in this aerial view of Gilmore Field.  Baseball atmosphere at Gilmore was just not the same as at Wrigley and the views were not as good.  Differences in the two ballparks can be seen by comparing this aerial photo of Gilmore Field and the one of Wrigley Field. 

Gilmore Field, Circa 1940s

I even had a chance during this summer to see Jack play in San Diego.  Aunt Gladys and Cousins Donna and Billy lived in National City, a suburb of San Diego.  I spent about two weeks visiting them sometime in June or July.  I talked to Aunt Gladys about a baseball outing one evening.  She agreed and the four of us went to Lane Field to watch Jack play.  It was an extra special night, because the Padres were allowing fans onto the field to meet the players. This fan night enabled us to go onto the field before the game to see Jack, get an autograph and take some photos.  This photo is the best of the ones taken that night.

Jack Graham, San Diego Padre 1948

Lane Field was definitely another minor league ballpark.  It was located adjacent to the San Diego Harbor.  The grandstand was all wood construction, very similar to Gilmore Field.  Bleachers at Lane Field were also uncovered seats along the foul lines, just like Gilmore’s bleachers.  The similarities between these two ballparks can be seen in an aerial photo of Lane Field.  This photo illustrates how close the field was to the harbor.  In fact, it was not uncommon for fog to delay games being played at this field.

Lane Field, San Diego, Circa 948

Jack was having a fantastic year with the Padres,easily the best of his career.  He was hitting about .300, leading the league in home runs and RBIs.  Despite Jack’s hitting so well, the Padres were near the bottom of the standings.  Since Jack had played baseball at Woodrow Wilson High School and still lived in Long Beach, his playing exploits were headline material in the local newspaper sports sections.  His local popularity made following him and the Padres on a daily basis my first priority.  Besides the Padres’ daily box scores, Jack was featured in some special stories also  One of these stories featured a photo of Jack, Louise and Grover Cleveland Alexander, one of the all time baseball greats.  

Grahams Pay Visit to Grover Alexander, 1948

Jack was a left handed hitting and throwing first baseman/outfielder.  Throughout his career he was a power hitter, and in 1948, he was hitting home runs at such a rate, speculation began that he could break the PCL home run record.  The PCL record was 60 home runs, hit by Tony Lazzeri of the Salt Lake City Bees in 1925.  In 1925 the PCL was a AA league and Tony batted .355 in 710 total At Bats  In 1926 after setting the PCL home run record, Tony was signed by the New York Yankees, and played for them from 1926 through 1937.  Tony played for the Chicago Cubs, Brooklyn Dodgers and New York Giants in 1938 and 1939.  Tony was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1991.  As the 1948 PCL season entered the third week of July, Jack had a home run total somewhere in the mid-40s with two months of the season remaining.  The week of July 19 the Padres were in Los Angeles to play a seven game series with the Angels.  We arranged with Louise to go to the Sunday doubleheader on July 25.  Our seats were down the first base line, just past first base.  Best I can remember we had box seats, but we could have been in first few rows of the main grandstand.  When the first game started Jack had a total of 45 home runs, then during the first game he hit home run number 46 into the right field bleachers.  Even before this game I was estimating he would hit 70 home runs for the season, based on some newspaper articles I had read.  Heck, after this first game he needed only 14 more to tie the record; there were still two months left in the season and there was still the second game this Sunday.  There was only sunshine ahead for breaking the record.  However, there was no way to know how this second game would alter the future.

By the time the second game started shadows from the grandstand were beginning to fall on the playing field.  The aerial photo of Wrigley Field  in the afternoon provides an idea of the situation.

Wrigley Field in the Afternoon

When Jack came to bat, probably in the first inning, the batter’s box was in the shadows and the Angel pitcher, Red Adams, was in the sun.  I am not sure what pitch, but Jack was struck in the right eye by a fast ball.  He lost sight of the ball as it entered the shadows from the bright sunlight  The crowd fell silent and Jack laid still in the batter’s box.  There were no batting helmets yet, only a small plastic liner placed under the cap, and Jack was not using one of those liners.  My next memory is of Mom escorting Louise onto the field, both going to Jack still on the ground with several people tending to him.  My memory turns fuzzy, actually blank, as to what happened next.  I believe Mom and Louise rode in the ambulance with Jack to the hospital.  Berta confirmed that they rode in the ambulance, since Mom told her about the day’s events.  How and when everyone got home, I do not recall.  I do not even remember if we went to the hospital or whether Granddad was with us at the game.  Berta does not remember being at the game.  Perhaps seeing Jack’s beaning was traumatic enough to block my memories of what happened during the rest of the day.

Although the doctors recommended Jack not return to play any further this session, he was encouraged to do so by a sportswriter.  He was told that retuning the possibility of being voted the league MVP existed.  Based on this urging he returned to play only in four more games and hit two more home runs to bring his season home run total to 48.  Jack indicated it was hard to hit with dizzy spells and blurry vision in his right eye.  He later said returning was not a good idea.  However, by returning he was voted the league MVP as the photo shows. 

Jack Graham, 1948 PCL MVP

Besides winning the league MVP award, he led the league in home runs, was third in RBIs with 136 and batted .298.  Certainly the best year of his career.  Could he have hit 70 home runs to break the record?  Jack missed 50 games and was hitting a home run about every 2.875 games, and at that rate could have hit at least another 19 home runs for a total of about 65 home runs, which would have broken Tony Lazzeri’s record.  There is also the possibility that he could have won the RBI title also.  The RBI leader had 155 for the season, but Jack’s RBI rate was one per game.  At this rate  he easily could have had an additional 40 or 50 RBIs.

Jack Graham was my first sports hero and certainly a most important one.  Usually your sports heroes are worshipped from afar, but, in Jack’s case I knew him personally.  It is not often your sports hero is a relative, and you are able to talk with him on a one to one basis.  To see your hero struck down was a profound experience in several ways.  Heroes are not supposed to be vulnerable, you think they are invincible.  His beaning clearly demonstrated he was not,and understanding this lack of invincibility is hard to fathom for a 12 year old boy.  At first, I had the opinion that Red Adams had intentionally attempted to bean Jack.  I had learned by listening to ballgames on radio and reading the newspaper, it was not uncommon to pitch inside to dangerous hitters and had drawn the conclusion that Red Adams had intentionally hit Jack.  However, Jack said he did not believe Adams had hit him intentionally, but his pitch “got away” from him.  In separate conversations with Louise, she also did not believe he was beaned intentionally.  It took awhile for me to accept what  both of them were telling me.  Despite this realization of his fallibility, he remained my hero.

Based on the results of his 1948 PCL season, Jack signed to play in the Majors with the St. Louis Browns in the American League.  The Browns are now the Baltimore Orioles.  Since there was no radio coverage available in the Los Angeles area, I had to follow his play by reading the newspaper.  The Browns were a cellar dwelling team in 1949 and coverage of the Browns was minimal.  Plus, since the Browns were not winning regularly there were no re-created games on the radio.  His year with the Browns was not a stellar one because his batting average was only .238, but he hit 24 home runs, which was third best for the year.  Only Ted Williams (43) and Vern Stephens (39), both with the Boston Red sox, had more home runs.  In reality, not bad company to be listed with.

Following the 1949 season, Jack returned to the PCL for three years playing with the San Francisco Seals and San Diego Padres.  In 1953 he played with the Baltimore Orioles in the International League.  All these teams were in AAA leagues.  By 1954 he was a player/manager for the Modesto Reds in the California League (Class C), which meant he had to play to manage.  He was injured and could not play, thus he was fired.

Jack’s baseball career spans 18 years, with a couple of years in the Army during World War II.  Jack was stationed in Salt Lake City during the war and helped organize a baseball team at the Army base, thereby enabling him to continue playing baseball during the war.  His Army service came during his peak playing years and certainly had an affect on his overall career.  Throughout his career he was a power hitter, with seasonal home run totals usually in the 20s and 30s wherever he played.  His overall average was 0.280, 422 home runs and 1,008 RBI.  Of course, most of these totals were in the minors, since he only had two years in the majors.  His minor league totals are a .289 batting average, 382 home runs and 882 RBI.  Jack’s baseball career in is listed in the following table.  In  If you are interested in the full range of baseball statistics, click on the following link:: http://www.baseball-reference.com/minors/player.cgi?id=graham003joh

Jack Graham’s Baseball Career

As Jack’s baseball career was entering its final years, my baseball journey was beginning.  My journey is not as interesting as his, but he was the reason my journey began.  During his phenomenal year with the Padres, my passion was to learn everything possible about the game.  I began playing baseball, actually softball, at school at every chance available.  Dad bought a couple of cheap baseball gloves and we began to play catch in the back yard.  I played knock up and lay down with any one that could be coerced into playing.  Jack had given me some old copies of the Baseball Digest, which I read cover to cover.  I learned all the dimensions of each major league ballpark and could quote them by heart.  I would go into the backyard and throw the ball into the air, run and catch it.  I would throw a ball against our cement back porch to field ground balls.  To practice hitting a pitched ball I threw a ball onto our garage roof and hit it back up onto the roof.  However, this hitting had to stop for a while because once I hit the ball into Granddad’s face.  Fortunately he was not injured severely, but it was a good idea to stop the practice.  Then during the 1949 baseball season, I discovered that Bruce Lewellyn was playing for the local American Legion team.  In addition to Bruce another friend, Delos”Del” Nadeau, was also on the team  Bruce was catching and Del was pitching.  It was too late that year to join the team, and I was encouraged to try out for the team the next spring (1950).

Besides being encouraged by Bruce and Del, both Jack and Louise encouraged me also.  Jack knew the Legion team Manager, George Caster a former professional ballplayer, and considered him a good baseball teacher.  We continued to see Louise throughout the 1949 season, but only saw jack after the season.  It was common for Jack to play Winter Ball, which was playing between the regular baseball seasons in either Cuba or Mexico.  So, whenever Jack was home we exchanged visits with Jack and Louise.  Our visits to their house usually consisted of dinner, conversation and watching The Ed Sullivan Show on TV.  When they visited our house the visit consisted of dinner, conversation and playing cards.  The card game we played was Canasta, a popular card game of the time.  Canasta was a form of Rummy and was sometimes called Argentina Rummy.  Canasta was played by four people in two partnerships.  Mom, Louise, Jack and myself were the usual players, Dad and Granddad did not play.  We usually alternated partners, but when I played with Jack it was a special treat.  I believe Jack was really into Canasta because it was very popular with the ballplayers.  Between the 1949 and 1950 seasons, Jack gave me my first professional baseball glove and baseball spikes.  The glove was a Rawlings Lonny Frey model, the shoes were hand me down Riddell baseball shoes.  Eventually he gave be several bats.  I believe the glove and shoes were given to me before the American Legion tryouts.

What I remember about these tryouts is rather limited.  The tryouts were held at Long Beach City College main campus.  There was a large open area on the North end of the campus where we practiced.  This practice field was essentially all dirt and there was a backstop of some sorts.  I remember being placed with the outfielders, with someone hitting fly balls to us.  I have no idea how many outfielders there were, but it must have been five or six of us.  We were over 200 feet from where the fly balls were being hit, which was a totally new experience for me.  Plus, we were using a regulation baseball and my experience with this type ball was very limited.  All balls hit to us were not of the routine fly ball varuett but included line drives and ground balls.  We were instructed to field ground balls by staying in front of the grounder and field the ball with one knee on the ground.  We were told that it was disastrous for a ground ball to go through your legs.  Jack had instructed me to throw directly overhand from the outfield.  I was told to use a four seam grip, throw overhand and not more that ten feet high.  This throwing technique placed a backspin on the ball, helped it stay in the air longer and the ball would bounce straight when it hit the ground.  A side spin on the ball and it would bounce to the side when it hit the ground.  I am sure we had batting practice, but there are no memories of batting.  Batting practice would have been a new experience.  Best I can remember, these tryouts would have been my first time batting against someone throwing overhand and at speeds grater than previously experienced.  Finally, throughout these tryouts, I did not practice at an infield position.

Well, I must have done okay since I was selected to be on the team.  Either that or there were only 15 of us trying out.  In any event, I was a member of American Legion Post 495 baseball team.  After we received our uniforms, a team photo was taken at the Long Beach City College baseball field.

American Legion Post 495 Baseball Team, 1950

The team Manager was Mr. George Caster, seated in the front row on the far left.  His Coach was Mr. Bill Bouley, seated in the front row on the far right.  Mr. Caster was a former Major League pitcher in the American League.  He had pitched in the Majors for 12 years, his last team was the Detroit Tigers.  His one highlight was pitching in the 11945 World Series with the Tigers.  I do not know if Mr. Bouley played baseball,either professional or amateur.  I assumed he was coach because his son Bill was on the team.  I do not know the Legionnaire standing in the rear of team.  He possibly is the Post Commander.  I recognize only three of my teammates in the photo.  Bill Stits is sitting next to Mr. Caster.  Darryl Jacobson is in the last row on the far left.  Dean Paulsen is in the last row third from the right.  I remember other teammates were Del Nadeau, Bruce Llewelyn, Joe Cochran, Sandy MacCloud, Bill Bouley and Lee Weldon.  I just cannot recognize them in the photo.  I had to ask Cousin Carol to locate me in the photo.  Can you find me?  To be revealed shortly.

Our uniforms were brand new, just out of the box, or off the hangers.  These uniforms were 100% wool and basically white as you can see.  The overstocks were red, white and blue striped.  I believe the sleeves were blue, but cannot be sure.  Lakewood letters were red trimmed in blue.  I thought the uniform looked cool, but most of the guys thought they were gaudy.  There is one photo of me in uniform standing in front of our house.  This photo could have been taken in 1952 because the baseball cap is not white, but probably blue or red.  In the team photo I am in the center of the middle row.  Be honest, did you find me?

Royal, Circa 1950 or 1952

We played double headers on Sundays.  I have no idea how many games we played, but best I can recall our record was 0 fer, or no wins and  all losses.  I remember games in Lynwood and Compton.  Our home games were played at Long Beach City College, near Lakewood Boulevard and Carson Street.  While I remember games in other cities, these games were in subsequent years and with other teams.  I do not remember where we practiced because we did not have a regular home field.  

This first year, I played only part time.  When I played it was as the right fielder.  It must be a baseball tradition that first year players are put into right field.  Since most batters are right handed the majority of the balls are hit to the left side of the field.  Thus, the new players are put in right field where they would do the least damage.  While there were no errors in my outfield play, batting was another matter.  I was right-handed all the way, throwing and batting.  My batting average was greater than 0, but less than 0.100.  My biggest problem was not being able to “pull the trigger”and watched too many third called strikes.  My concept of the strike zone was miserable.  Automatic outs do not earn you much playing time.  Despite only playing part time, I was not discouraged and loved playing.  After all, I was only 14 this first year playing with and against mostly 16 and 17 year olds.  I just loved the game and wanted to improve, especially in hitting.

After the 1950 summer I entered Wilson High School looking forward to playing on the school team.  In the essay High School Years: 1950 to 1953, I told of my failure to change to Seventh Period Baseball and not having a good year on the JV team.  While playing for the Legion team, I had developed into a good outfielder, but my hitting was atrocious.  So when I first went to the JV team my first couple of practices were terrible.  I dropped a couple of easy fly balls but smashed the ball during batting practice.  As a result, Coach Hunt told me I was a hitter not a fielder.  Now I became a part time player because of the Coach’s belief my fielding was bad.  I certainly do not remember how much playing time there was on the JV team, but it was definitely a disappointing start at school.

The 1951 Legion season was the next disappointment.  Mr. Caster had permission to build a baseball practice field for the team in an empty field across the street from his house.  This field was on the spot where Lakewood High School now stands.  We had to clear sagebrush, build and erect a simple backstop, level an infield area, build a pitching mound, install bases, home plate, pitcher’s rubber and water the infield before we could even practice.  Actually, it was a miserable baseball field, but we had a place to practice without scheduling it with anyone.  The outfield still had sagebrush in it and was not level, it sloped toward the street.  The dirt was not hard packed but was very sandy.  It was very hard to run as it was so sandy, more like the beach.  When it came time to select the team, Mr. Caster apologized that I could not be on the team this year but wanted me to continue processing with the team and going to the games.  It was rumored among some parents that Daryl Jacobson had submitted a forged birth certificate indicating he was only 17, not 18.  Whether this was true or not rally made no difference, since I did not receive a uniform and was not on the team.  However, I went to practice and even played in some practice games before the Legion season started.  In fact, in one of the first practice games, I was the starting pitcher.

This practice game was held in a regular baseball park with an outfield fence.  Mr. Caster had informed me he wanted me to pitch two or three innings at one of our practices.  So, I got Dad in the backyard and pitched to him.  I do not believe Dad enjoyed the experience.  His glove was one of the cheap ones he bought a couple of years earlier.  I had to ease up, or reduce the velocity of my pitches, because it was hurting his hand.  When it came to pitching in the game, I had no idea what I was doing.  The first batter I faced hit the first pitch for a triple-great start.  The second batter went to a full count of three balls and two strikes.  Bruce was my catcher and gave the sign for a curve ball.  The thought that raced through may head was something like, ‘Bruce, you gotta be out of your mind!”  I did not shake him off and threw my curve ball.  The batter struck out!  The other team scored one or two runs that first inning, but I do not remember what happened after the batter struck out.  Deep down, I believe the plan was to have me become a pitcher, because I was not a hitter.  In my opinion, I was not a pitcher, because my fastball was too slow.  Plus, I really did not know how to throw a curve.  The curve I threw was really a slider at best and probably more of a change up.  However, I continued to practice pitching with Dad.  He bought a cheap catcher’s glove, but I’m not sure it helped much either.  His hand would be beet red when we finished.  Dad risked injury to support my baseball passion.  Based on knowing some about Dad’s childhood, I doubt he ever played any athletic sport or any experience even playing catch.  It is a wonder I did not cause more than a sore, red hand.  I probably realized too late in life to appreciate his sacrifice (a sore and bruise hand).

Despite these set backs in my baseball playing, there was no way I wanted to quit.  I wanted to improve and I truly liked playing baseball.  Other than some sandlot, tag and flag football played in elementary and junior high school, I was not interested in playing high school football.  While I had developed good basketball skills, the high school head coach asked me to try out in my junior year, but baseball was my choice.  I wanted to ply baseball more than any other sport.  After the Legion season was concluded and sometime in the fall, I attended a sports lecture that totally changed my approach to hitting.

This sports lecture I attended was given by George Yardley, an All American basketball player from Stanford.  My memory is blank about the  lecture’s subject, but I remember why I attended.  Attendance was not based on the specific sports topic, but I went to the lecture because George Yardley was the lecturer.  Why was George Yardley of interest?  I was interested in George Yardley because Dad was his boss, at least in a manner of speaking.  Dad worked in the Civil Works Department at the Los Alamitos Naval Air Station.  The Civil Works Department was commanded by a naval officer, but there was a civilian supervisor also.  Dad was a civilian federal employee and worked under the civilian supervisor.  There were also naval personnel, sailors, that also worked in this department.  Work in this department consisted of engineering design, drafting, surveying and other civil engineer duties.  Usually the naval commander would decide the Air Base had a need for some sort of infrastructure, like a blast deflector for the jet aircraft on the base.  It was the civilians’ job to design the blast deflector and see that it was built.  The job was usually given to Dad to do the design and provide the necessary drawings/blueprints to build whatever was needed.  At times Dad would use some of the naval personnel to help with the project.  As it turned out, George Yardley had been assigned to the Civil Works Department because he had an engineering degree from Stanford.  However, after George Yardley was assigned to Los Alamitos Air Station, he was tasked with organizing a base basketball team, with his assignment to the Civil Works Department was of secondary importance to a winning basketball team.  Thus, if Dad asked George to design a specific piece of a project, basketball duty took precedence.  Hence, although Dad liked George, his other assignment delayed Dad’s effort on the project.  I asked Dad if George was good at his engineering assignments, Dad indicated he was a good engineer, when he was there.  As a consequence, when I saw George was going to give a sports lecture at Long Beach City College one evening, I decided to go and check him out personally.

George Yardley’s lecture lasted about an hour, or so, but I remember only one nugget of information gleaned from the lecture.  George claimed all outstanding hitters’ batted from the side of the plate that was opposite to their Master Eye.  For example, the great Ted Williams batted from the left side of the plate and his Master Eye would be his right eye.  What is your Master Eye?  A Master Eye is your dominant eye.  How do you determine which eye is your dominant one?  There are a couple of methods but are essentially the same and this method I was aware of at the time.  With both eyes open, extend your arm with your thumb raised.  Cover some object, like a light switch or door knob, and cover it with you thumb so you cannot see the object.  Then close one eye, then the other eye.  When you close one eye after the other you will alternately be able to see, or not see, the object.  With the eye that still covers the object you have discovered your Master Eye.  What is the validity of George Yardley’s assertion?  I have no idea, either now or at the lecture.  I totally believed his statement without question!  Because I believed him without any doubt, I began to consider switching from batting right handed to batting left handed.  I considered switching because I already knew my right eye was my Master Eye when I went to the lecture.  Hence, theoretically I would hit better left handed!  But would it work?  I had no idea, but the change would be worth exploring.  Why was I aware my Master Eye was my right eye?

Dad began to teach me to shoot a rifle about the time I was ten years old, initially with my Red Ryder BB rifle and later with a 22 Rifle.  When shooting a rifle it was common routine to place the rear and front sight on a target with my right eye.  It was also common to close my left eye and the target did not “move” as your thumb appears to do in the test method above.  I was excited about what Yardley said about the Master Eye and hitting, so I informed Dad and Mom what I had learned at the lecture.  Asking their opinion about switching, they were not ready to tell me to try it.  What they did say was to ask Jack Graham for an opinion.  It was at least two weeks before Jack and Louise visited our house.  When they arrived, I answered the door and popped my question while Jack was still in the doorway, at least it seemed that way.  Jack’s response was in the form of a question, “Do you believe you can get out of the way of a pitch and not get hit?”  I answered, “Yes!”  He then said if that was the case, he had no objection t o switching to hitting left handed.

With this encouragement I began practicing hitting left handed.  This practice began by learning to step and turn my hips.  Next, I began swinging a bat as though I was attempting to hit a ball.  This type practice was done on a daily basis, repetition after repetition.  Basically, I was establishing muscle memory for batting left handed.  Although I do not remember hitting live pitches, there must have been some live batting practice.  Perhaps Bruce or Del pitched to me, maybe Dad volunteered, there is just nothing in my memory bank.  In any event, when baseball practice started at Wilson in the spring of 1952, I was hitting left handed.  This Junior year, Jack insisted I try out for the Varsity.  I lasted only a week before Coach Meyer sent me down to the JV team.  The good news was batting practice while with the Varsity players there was an improvement over hitting right handed.  I was still learning and had a long way to go.

Although my hitting improved immeasurably, I did not hit with as much power.  The reason for this power reduction is that the “back” arm, my left arm, supplies the power while the other arm, my right arm, controlled the bat.  Since I was right arm dominate, it was my strongest arm.  As a result, I hit the ball more and sprayed the ball to all fields.  Perhaps the hardest technique to learn batting left handed was the sacrifice bunt.  This technique was difficult to learn because my left hand had to control the bat, but I learned to accomplish it without difficulty.  As mentioned in the High School essay, Skip Rowland was the new JV coach in 1952.  Coach Rowland recognized I was a fast runner and he taught me to drag bunt.  Drag bunting became a major way for me to garner base hits.  Although I was still a part time player on Coach Rowland’s JV team, he was an excellent coach and I really learned considerable about playing baseball.  After each game, Coach Rowland would set the team down and discussed our mental mistakes with a unique technique to demonstrate our lack of thinking baseball.

His technique for illustrating our mistakes was simply to give a player a fairly large rock to hold while he reviewed some play in the game involving that player.  He usually ask the player what he was thinking, then provided a brief statement of what he should have been thinking.  My turn to hold the rock came after our game with El Monte.  I was the first base coach, and we had a runner on first base that had just singled.  The runner ask me how many outs there were, I was at a loss and said, “I’m not sure.”  The El Monte first baseman helped us out and said there are two out.  Both the runner and I believed him, so I instructed the runner to run if the ball was nit.  The batter popped up on the infield.  Our runner was off heading for second base and was doubled off first base for the third out.  What I learned while holding the rock was every player, whether in the line-up or not, pay attention to what is happening in the game.  Everyone should always know the score, number of outs, the batter’s count and what inning is being played.  I learned my lesson about knowing what’s happening in a very embarrassing way.  This rock session was beneficial for me, as well as the rock holder because I learned how to think ahead and anticipate what to do in all sorts of baseball situations.  

Following the JV season, it was on to playing American Legion baseball the summer of 1952.  Mr. Caster quit as manager and turned the team over to Mr. Bouley.  I earned a spot on the team this year without a problem.  The team consisted of mostly the same Wilson JV players that I had gotten to know at school.  It was this year I became the Center Fielder, no more Right Field.  My hitting improved to around .260, with only swinging strikeouts.  It seemed that batting left handed allowed me to see the ball better, plus I had more base on balls.  Our team did better in the win/loss record this year.  Once the legion season was over baseball continued.

Mr. Caster formed another baseball team with players from this 1952 team and some other players he knew.  We played games in San Pedro, Lynwood, Compton, Fullerton and Long Beach plus some other cities not recalled.  These games are all long forgotten with few memories.  Part of the reason for this blur is that I played for Mr. Caster’s teams in 1952, 1953 and 1954.  We played throughout the year, but mostly in the fall and winter.  Sometimes we had uniforms, sometimes we did not, and we played in our own personal baseball clothes.  Probably my most memorable game occurred in a game in Lynwood.

We were scheduled to play an all Black team, but they were short one player when the game was to start.  Mr. Caster offered for one our team’s players to join their team until their missing player appeared.  Our team drew straws to determine would would play on the Black team.  I drew the short straw and went to their dugout.  Needless to say I was very nervous.  At this point, I had no experience with any contact with Blacks.  I was aware of all the various stereotype descriptions.  I had no idea what to expect and rather shuddered internally as I entered their dugout.  After introductions around and it was decided I should play second base, an all black team with one white player took the field.  I am not sure whether I played two or three innings or the entire game, but it was one of the most memorable games I ever played.  It was memorable because of their attitude and demeanor.  They were having fun playing, joking with each other, kidding me and in general having a ball.  I even had the feeling they accepted me as not only as part of their team but as a person.  It truly was an enjoyable experience.

The following photo shows a uniform that I wore for one of Mr. Caster’s teams.Guess our sponsor was 7Up, but I have no idea about the Bellflower name. 

Royal, Circa 1952

As the 1952-1953 school year started, I began walking to Woodruff Avenue to catch a public bus to school.  I was still playing for one of Mr Caster’s teams through the first semester of my Senior year.  One day a car stopped at the bus stop and offered me a ride to school.  It was Coach Rowland in his old 1930s era coupe.  During this first semester I probably rode to school with Mr. Rowland about once a week.  He always asked how my baseball playing was proceeding, as well as baseball in general.  I remember telling him my hitting was improving and was now hitting about .320.  He was impressed that my batting had improved and was encouraging about the coming year with the Varsity team.

My Varsity year at Wilson was a disappointment as explained in the High School Years essay.  Even so, I have one positive memory for this otherwise disappointing year.  The Varsity’s first game of the year was the Annual Alumni game.  Varsity players from years past played against this year’s Varsity.  Some of the alumni players were professional ballplayers, which to us meant the alumni were a very talented team against novices.  Jack Graham was present but not playing.  To best understand this positive memory about the Alumni Game, a photo of the Wilson Baseball Field is shown to aid in recounting my story.

Woodrow Wilson Baseball Field, Circa 2010

The current Wilson Baseball Field shows there are two roof covered “dugouts”.  In 1953 there were only wooden benches for each team.  Next you can see football marking in the outfield, which did not exist in 1953 either.  Other than these differences the playing field is as I remember it.  The right field fence was only about 275 feet down the foul line and the distance did not increase dramatically as the fence went toward center field.  I never realized that until the photo was downloaded from the internet.  My impression was that the right field fence was parallel to the left field foul line, but it is not parallel.  

Our team was sitting on the bench next near first base.  Sometime late in the game Coach Meyer inserted me into the lineup as a pinch hitter.  To enter the game I had to take the uniform top of Dick McCurdy, the fellow that came out of nowhere to earn a spot on the team. Nick Hopkins, the hitter before me singled and was on first base.  When I went to bat, Dean Paulsen, was the alumni pitcher.  I had known Dean since 1950 and played with him on the American Legion Team.  I remembered him as a good left handed pitcher.  What flashed through my mind as I walked to the plate,was, “Oh no, lefty versus lefty!”  At this time in the early 1950s, Casey Stengel, Manager of the New York Yankees, had started the trend of using left hand hitters versus right hand pitchers and vice versa.  Stengel’s theory was that this approach gave an advantage to the batter.  Being fully aware of this strategy, I went to the plate with a negative thought in mind.  On about Dean’s second or third pitch I hit a long fly ball toward the right field fence, 15 feet to the right of the right fielder.  The right fielder was Darryl Jacobson, the Legion player who allegedly submitted a forged birth certificate in 1951.  Darryl was standing flat footed watching the ball head toward the fence. I could see a double in the making.  All of sudden the center fielder, Tim Knozer who was a professional ballplayer,, came out of nowhere and caught the ball just before it entered the hedges along the right field fence.  My chance for a double was just a long out.  I had rounded first base and met Nick Hopkins returning to first base, and we slapped hands when we passed.

After the game in the locker room, Jack Graham came and congratulated me on hitting the ball so well.  He even remarked, “You just got under it a bit,” implying I had come very close to hitting the ball over the fence.  Dean Paulsen also approached me and said, “You little pee and, you scared the s*** out of me!”  I did not take this as a compliment since Dean had never treated me with respect, probably because he was older and larger than me.  Years laster Dean and I met at work in the manufacturing area where he was employed.  At this meeting it was if we were old buddies.  Finally, I often wondered what Coach Meyer would have done if I would have doubled or hit a home run.  Just an idle thought, to which there is no answer.  As it turned out I did hit balls over the fence during batting practice.  There were seven balls hit out onto Seventh Street during the course of the season.  The last one that cleared the fence provides an indication of Coach Meyer’s thoughts about hitting balls over the fence.

Coach Meyer was instructing Gordon Seyfried, our best Junior right handed pitcher, on how to throw a curve ball to a left handed batter.  Since I was the only left hand batter on the team, I was Gordon’s guinea pig.  Coach Meyer’s instruction was to throw the curve so it would break toward the batter’s right knee.  Gordon threw a couple curves that broke too high and I lined them into right field.  Coach Meyer stopped him and re-instructed him on where to throw the curve.  Gordon made the correction and the ball broke down toward my right leg.  I hit the ball, essentially off the top of my right foot, and golfed the ball high in the air toward the right field fence.  Coach Meyer started repeating out loud, “Stay in, stay in.”  The impression was he did not want to lose another ball.  Both Gordon and I learned something about curve balls:  he learned where to throw the ball, and I learned to hit a right hander’s curve.

After finishing my disappointing Senior year in 1953, I played my last year on the American Legion team that summer.  As previously cited, I continued to play for Mr. Caster during the fall and winter of that year.  Then in the second semester at Long Beach City College I went out for the school’s baseball team.  There must have 20 to 25 players attempting to make the team.  Those trying out included a core of returning players from the previous year’s championship team.  Besides those returning players there were high school graduates from the four local high schools, Jordan, Poly and Wilson in Long Bach, plus Excelsior High in Norwalk.  Bill Bouley and I were the only players from Wilson.  Coach Joe Hicks was an excellent coach and we learned several good baseball techniques.  Techniques most remembered included hitting to the opposite field and outfielders playing catch at extended distances to increase arm strength.  A competition developed between me and one of the Jordan players whose last name was Browne, nicknamed “Brownie”.  We were the two fastest players trying out and there were several head to head races run by us.  Sometimes he won, sometimes I won, but whoever won it was by a half step.  The final team selection came down to an intra squad game.  While my outfield play was fine, I struck out twice (swinging).  While I believed it was my hitting performance, some of the other players disagreed with Coach Hicks decision.  This support from players that I had only known for about four weeks helped my spirits, to be sure.

To continue my baseball journey, a brief voyage into the future will be necessary.  This voyage will be a brief snapshot without a detailed accounting of life during these future years. I continued to play regular baseball, we commonly called hardball, until about 1955.  At that point baseball gave way to college, marriage and working.  Playing the game did not return until after graduating from college and beginning a career in 1959.  While working at North American Aviation in Downey, California, the game became fast-pitch softball.  Fast-pitch softball continued through the 1960s in Downey and later in Anaheim.  Usually the team I played with was just a collection of fellas that wanted nothing more than to play.  About 1964 we formed a department team that played in both Downey and Anaheim.  While playing fast-pitch softball, I did not play only in the outfield.  Depending on the team, I played third base, second base, shortstop, and even pitched part of a season.  Fast-pitch softball ended in 1966 when I started Law School, attending classes in the evening while working during the day.

Law School lasted a year and a half (a story for another time) and the baseball journey resumed.  Now the journey was teaching my sons and other young boys the game of baseball in Little League.  This part of the journey consisted of two separate, but important aspects of youth sports.  My first goal was to teach the basics of baseball.  I firmly believe baseball, whether hardball or softball, is a game that can be played at any age by anyone.  Further, baseball can be played by all in any family meeting, like a picnic or any outing.  Plus, teaching baseball in a manner that would provide players with basic skills for playing organized baseball beyond Little League.  Umpiring was the second important aspect of Little League.  This aspect was not recognized when I decided to teach baseball in our local league.  While the league attempted to provide volunteer umpires, there never were enough volunteers.  As a consequence, team managers and coaches were forced into the additional task of umpiring.  Initially, umpiring was a drag.  However, after a couple of assignments my attitude changed.  I had to know the rules inside and out, which helped my teaching and enabled me to become known to all the boys in the league.  It became apparent how important it was to provide a fair and impartial call of “ball,”“strike," “foul," “out” or “safe”.  It was always gratifying to be told by the players, “Thank you Mr. Price.”  I coached Little League for about 12 years, including at least two years with my son, Russ, and grandson, Matt.  Little League umpiring lasted about 19 years in about three different leagues in three cities.  Umpiring occurred during the years of the 1970s, 1980s, 1990s, and 2000s.

Fast-pitch softball became slo-pitch softball at work in the 1980s and 1990s.  There were all male teams and I played on co-ed teams beginning in the 1990s.  I also played co-ed slo-pitch softball in Seattle for four years.  I started to play slo-pitch in Golden, Colorado in the spring of 2004, but had to quit.  The previous winter I slipped on some ice and fell full weight on my right shoulder and fell twice more in ways that continued to injure this shoulder.  There was a partial tear of the rotator cuff and little cartilage remaining, and an orthopedic surgeon recommended to stop playing.

Despite the disappointments that occurred early in my baseball journey, playing the game of baseball has been one of the joys of my life.  As in life itself, you carry memories of success with you.  Oh sure, there are a couple of experiences you wish to forget, but the positive memories over weigh the not so pleasant ones.  My positive memories involve certain defensive plays made while playing the outfield.  Playing center field for Mr. Caster at Wilson High School when my friend Del Nadeau was pitching.  The batter hit a high fly ball toward right center field.  Drifting to my left I knew it was a sure out.  Just as I caught the ball, I stepped into the hedges in front of the fence. and disappeared from everyone’s sight.  I had neglected to know how close the hedges were since my concentration was on the ball.  As I stepped out of the hedges to show I had caught the ball, Del thanked me by waving his cap.  Another pitcher thanked me for making a double play on the infield.  Playing left field while there were runners on the bases, I ran into third base to backup the third baseman.  I tagged out a runner sliding into third, then I chased down another runner between third base and home plate.  The only time I ever was credited with a double play, while playing in the outfield.  There were a couple of instances of being involved in a double play, but I was credited with an out and an assist.  With a runner on first base, the batter hit a sinking fly ball to short center field.  Running full speed I caught the ball just below my knees and threw a strike to the first baseman, doubling off the runner who was over half way to second base.  There were two more fly balls I caught that should be label the scariest and the best catches ever made.

The scariest fly ball “out” occurred with Mr. Caster’s team at a field in Fullerton.  The batter hit a monstrous fly ball to center field.  This fly ball was the highest I had ever seen hit and it was not a problem getting to it.  Parking underneath it I began to think too much about catching it.  I was thinking, “Am I under it?” and, man it is taking a long time to fall” and “Should I move?”  Normally you ran on a route to intercept the flight of the ball, but waiting for the ball to fall was unnerving.  You even thought about dropping it, which never entered you mind while running to intercept a fly ball.  Whew, I caught it, but it sure was scary waiting for it to come down.  My best catch occurred while playing slo-pitch softball at work.  Playing left field the batter hit a ball I knew immediately was over my head.  I immediately turned my back to home plate and ran as fast as possible back toward the fence.  I turned and looked up about 15 feet from where I had started and there was the ball coming right at me.  I caught it for the third out.  This catch was by and far the most satisfying since it saved a home run.  My worst memories also occurred while playing softball at work.

Our department had just moved to Anaheim and entered a team in a fast-pitch league.  Well, in one game I dropped two very easy fly balls.  I was always of the opinion that if I put a glove on a fly ball, it would be an out.  Dropping these two fly balls were not only embarrassing, but caused us to lose the game.  Apologizing to the guys did not soothe my feelings, so I went home in the dumps beating myself up.  A team member, Tom Tate, grew up around Philadelphia and commented that non-performing players were sent to Scranton, a minor league team.  Lamenting overnight, I went to work the next morning, drew a cartoon and posted it.  This cartoon is a replica of the original, which has been lost.  My attempt to re-draw it was a total failure.  Cousin Carol and her Grandson Stefan found one matching my original! 

Where’s Scranton?

Some comments about this cartoon are in order.  I was an avid reader of the cartoon Peanuts created by Charles Schultz.  The cartoon strip centered on a group of children, with Carlie Brown one of the main characters.  Snoopy was Charlie’s dog, and my favorite beagle.  Charlie Brown had a baseball team that could not win a game.  Snoopy was his best player.  Usually when Snoopy traveled, he carried his food dish on top of his head.  The only time he carried it in his mouth was when he was hungry and wanted Charlie to feed him.  When I drew the cartoon I had not seen the one above, and here I thought mine was an original concept.  Charles Shultz captured human nature in just a few panels with Charlie Brown and his cohorts.  Charlie Brown was the consulate “loser” in life, because nothing ever seemed to work out in his favor.  One of Charlie’s favorite sayings was, “I am just a foul ball in the line drive of life!”

After finishing the cartoon I posted on the wall above my desk, said nothing and began my work.  As the morning progressed my co-workers saw the cartoon and conversations began about the game.  One of my office mates, Dean Livingston, said on seeing the cartoon, “A guy that can laugh at himself, must be well balanced.”  Now everyone laughed.  I am not sure how well balance I was, but this morning I felt like Charlie’s foul ball.

Injuries sustained while playing baseball where minimal and were mostly rashes obtained while sliding.  The worst injury occurred in 1994 while playing coed slo-pitch softball.  Playing shortstop, I had observed a certain woman batter had been hitting looping line drives into short left field not far off the foul line.  Due to this observation, I played a little deeper and closer to the foul line on her next at bat.  She hit another looping line drive just like I had observed, and I raced to catch the ball before it hit the ground.  Just as I caught the ball our left fielder collided with me hitting my head and falling heavily on my left shoulder.  Partially stunned, I laid on the ground for several seconds.  The umpire ran out from home plate, there was only one umpire, and saw the ball in my glove and called the batter out.  There was some pain and it was obvious something was not as it should be.  One of our players drove me to St. Joseph’s Emergency Room for treatment.  X-rays confirmed there was a partial dislocation of the shoulder.  This injury weakened my left arm, which affected my hitting.  So, I returned to hitting right handed.  Slo-pitch softball did not result in third called strikes, you may strike out, but it would be a swinging strikeout.

It is an understatement to say baseball has been a major factor in my life.  I love the game and believe it to be the best game of all.  While others will say football, or basketball, are the real team sport, and that baseball is boring.  Sure, watching baseball can be boring at times, but I believe those who make this claim have never really played baseball, at least not with passion and love for the game.  In my way of thinking, baseball is an individual/team sport.  What is an individual/team sport?  Baseball is a team sport that needs nine players playing together in a coordinated manner to make outs or score runs.  Yet, baseball is a one on one competition between the pitcher and a batter, or a fielder and a batted, or thrown, ball.  Baseball requires quick reaction reflexes and excellent eye/hand coordination.  I believe hitting a speeding, small round ball with a round bat is one of the most difficult feats in sports to accomplish successfully.  

My passion for baseball began with the accidental meeting with Jack Graham.  As noted in the High School Years essay, this chance meeting resulted in a desire to play professional baseball.  Well, that desire did not come to fruition.  Were decisions made that caused reaching that goal more difficult?  Yes, there were a couple of decisions that could have been impediments for not realizing my goal.  You may remember my cheating on eye exams.  Perhaps wearing glasses would have made me a better hitter.  Whether you noticed or not, while playing “hardball” I played only in the outfield.  I never attempted to play any other position, nor did I ask to play any other position.  The major reason was my fear of ground balls.  I envisioned ground balls taking bad hops and hitting me in the face, or groin.  Yes, that was an unnatural fear, but it was real to me at the time.  I felt better about this decision when I discovered that Bob Lemon, an ace pitcher for the Cleveland Indians, was afraid to get hit in the head by a pop fly.  Baseball considers outfielders, third basemen and first basemen to be the power hitters on a team.  Playing shortstop, second base, catcher or pitcher would have been a better choice for me, because defensive play would be more important than hitting.  These thoughts are pure conjecture, and may not have resulted in any materially different outcome.  Still you wonder “what if” this knowledge and these decision had not been made, would the results been different.  Even so, I am not disappointed with the decisions made, whether good or poor.  It really is a situation of accepting the decisions made and not regretting them in any way.  In a way my baseball journey is a microcosm of life.  I enjoyed my baseball journey with no exceptions.  There were both good and poor decisions made, but I am happy with the result and would not change anything that occurred.

My baseball journey included attending many memorable movies centered on the game I love.  These movies that were enjoyable, and the stories are varied in nature from serious to comic to fantasy.  The order of the list is purely random.

Baseball Movies Enjoyed:

The Pride of the Yankees, The Pride of the Cardinals, Bull Durham, Bang the Drum Slowly, The Rookie, The Stratton Story, Field of Dreams, The Natural, 61*, The Life and Times of Hank Greenberg, Mr. Baseball, A League of Their Own, Moneyball, Kill the Umpire, and It Happens Every Spring.

Baseball movies on my To See List:

  Eight Men Out, The Sandlot, 42 and Game 6, A Baseball Story.