Our writer for the Goodwill Series web site wrote this very "heart warming" story of my son, Robert and his friend for 25 years Tim Cossins.
THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE DUGOUT
By Juliana LeRoy
Tim Cossins and Rob Williams remember the first time they met each other. It was on the baseball diamond, in the Rincon Valley Little League field in Santa Rosa. Tim tells of hearing the ping of a bat as he got close to the park, and of his initial surprise: This was HIS park; who was playing there?
As Tim tells it, “A kid was taking batting practice, and an adult was pitching--”
“Good balls, white balls,” Rob chimes in, laughing.
“This kid was hitting them, too, out into the trees, right-handed -- then switching over and doing the same, left-handed. I was sort of stunned,” Tim recalls.
The adult – Rob’s dad, Bob Williams, it turns out – called out, “Hey, kid, want to have a turn?”
The two boys circled each other at first, doing their impression of the movie Sandlot – “way before the movie came out!”
“We were like, who is this kid? Is he any good?” they say, pretending to investigate each other warily.
And then they played some work ups, decided each other knew what he was doing, and the rest is history.
To hear the two men together you get a sense of friendship beyond time and distance. They have played together, on American Legion teams in the 80’s, and against one another, at rival high schools, Montgomery and Santa Rosa High. They have coached together, and against one another. At times they start laughing at a remembered incident and sound like teenagers again, joking around on a bus on the way to a game. Then, seriousness comes into their voices as they talk about the mechanics of the game, or the wonder of watching a player develop his talent under their guidance.
This balance between youth and experience echoes in their stories and answers to posed questions.
In the mid 1990’s the two friends coached a team in Australia for the Goodwill Series that they both rhapsodize about, cutting into each other like a comedy routine.
“It was awesome, amazing,” they say, searching around for a superlative strong enough.
What made it great?
“Well, we were loaded with talent,” Rob says. “Four first round draft picks.”
“Amazing talent,” Tim agrees, nodding emphatically.
“And we were coaching together, so we were like--”
“Finishing each other’s sentences?”
“Until Tim got sick, remember? And nearly died,” Rob says, his eyes twinkling as he tries to sound properly serious.
“Well, yeah, but it was my fault,” Tim leans forward to explain.
“He didn’t drink any water.”
“Yeah, I had the Asiatic flu bug or something.”
“And he didn’t go to the game, and when I got back to the hotel he tries to answer the door and I hear thud, thud, THUD!” Rob smacks his hands together to mimic the crash Tim made passing out on the way to the door, elbowing Tim.
“Yeah,” Tim shrugs. “I had to have IV bags and stuff.”
“But the team did great,” Rob adds, laughing.
Tim cracks up.
They break into laughter over many memories and try to tell stories on each other to crack each other up.
“Remember the time we went to San Diego?” Tim opens.
“Yeah, when I got hit in the head with the bat,” Rob nods ruefully.
Tim chuckles as he tells how Rob had just gotten off the bus and someone taking a few practice swings with a bat connected with Rob’s forehead. This was after a 12 hour bus ride, part of a two week road trip, to play in San Diego for the first Area Code Games tournament.
“One step off the bus, wham! Smack! That’s all, folks!” Tim’s hands knock together and he lets one fall flat in the air as a visual aid.
Again they laugh.
They agree their favorite memories are of just being on teams together, laughing and playing the game they love.
Seriousness sets in when they talk about how kids today aren’t allowed the same opportunities they had growing up, in terms of being free to just play pick up games and practice aspects of the game on their own.
“Everything is organized now. A kid won’t do anything that isn’t organized up for them,” Rob says.
“It seems like we’re old fogies now when we say stuff like that, but it’s true. When we were kids, I’d walk by myself from my house in Santa Rosa to the Rincon Valley park to see if anyone wanted to take some BP. No one thought anything of it,” Tim agrees.
Rob says, “In junior high I would walk 3 miles down Sonoma Avenue in Santa Rosa where my Dad would pick me up and drop me off at Santa Rosa Junior College. I would practice with the team, as if I was on the team. I did that until I was in high school.”
Tim backs him up, nodding.
“We worked and worked on stuff on our own,” Rob remembers.
“For hours,” Tim nods.
“Basketball, golf, whatever. We’d shoot baskets all night out at my house, remember?”
“Yeah.”
They are nostalgic, not even twenty years out of high school, for a childhood full of infinite possibilities and personal freedom.
Working with young players today, they see incredible talent, and incredible opportunities. They caution the boys to be aware that there is a finite period of time to play ball, so they need to work hard and be focused.
“Be realistic,” Tim stresses. “My dad told me to treat your profession like you expect it to work out. I am still involved in baseball as a career because I love the game, I love the life. I mean, look at me. I’m not in it for the big bucks and the prestige. I’m happy where I am, doing what I do. For four months out of the year I can call someone up and say ‘Want to go play some golf?’”
Tim manages a minor league ball team in Jupiter, Florida for the Marlins. His greatest joy is “seeing the lights go on for a player, seeing them push through doors to become better players.” The men on his teams already have tremendous talent. Whether it is one of the tools of the game or mental attitude and fortitude, what they develop at the minor league level carries them into the major leagues. It takes hard work and determination on both the player’s part and Tim’s part to see that happen.
Rob’s life also centers around baseball. When he isn’t coaching teams for the Goodwill Series, he’s teaching hitting as a private coach at Redwood Baseball Institute, drawing on his experience as a scout for the Seattle Mariners to hone the skills of the young men.
Today Rob and Tim are just grown up versions of the two boys on the Little League field, laughing as they hit balls into the trees.
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