Please Share Your Childhood Stories

That is a good story.

I wish I had a special childhood memory.

The fact is, I fell in love with the game while watching my son play.

PG


great idea for a thread


Here is my big remembrance from my LL Youth--- in 1955 LL came to the town I lived in and the town was a true old line baseball town with a semi pro team and a 1500 seat stadium with lights ---we also had a town paper that covered our LL like a big league operation---writeups, interviews box scores etc. We had crowds at LL games that had more non parents rooting than parents---they were baseball fanatics

Our LL team was coached by three ex pro players, one of whom played AAA for the Brooklyn Dodgers and was teammates with Jackie Robinson and Chuck Connors (The Rifleman)---all that aside our team got off to a 0-4 start and they, the coaches, were fit to be tied---I was the third baseman and we had a 10 year old, I was 12, sitting on the bench who was an awesome player. On the day of the 4th loss, a 100 degree Long Island Summer day my dad, who had been a semi pro catcher, suggested to the staff that I switch from third to behind the plate and we insert the 10 year old at third. The young boys name was Glen Borkhuis---the coaches said
not a bad idea since the catcher we had was bad and I was 5 ft 6 at 12 years of age---so after the game we all moved to the adjacent field and 4 hours later after one of the most intense workouts I ever went thru I was annointed as the new catcher--today they would locked up my dad and the coaches on child abuse charges but I loved it and to this day fondly remember it--- we had 12 games left on the schedule and we WON all of them, took the leadgue title, and 6 of our 9 hitters were in the top ten hitters in the league at the end of the season, including Glen.

Recently I was able to locate Glen after all these years--he played college ball on the last team at Syracuse University, was drafted and played in the Yankee chain. He is now a psychologist at his HS alma mater


Great memories

Nice topic!
I've actually posted this before, but it's perhaps the ultimate moment of my youth, so it fits well in this thread.

An end of regular season LL game back in 1968. With two outs and two on in the botom of the sixth, a light hitting catcher (batting 9th of course) stepped up to the plate and calmly stroked the first pitch he saw into the gap in right center, scoring the tying and winning runs. This rare safety by a most unlikely hero not only won the game, but it preserved a perfect 16-0 season. Some moments last a lifetime.

Gary Addiego was my coach, and I'll never forget him. But I actually don't remember anything he said to me before, during , or after the event. I was so focused on getting the bat on the ball all I can remember is the feel of sweet contact, and the sight of the ball disappearing over the 2B's outstretched glove. That and the euphoria at being crushed in the bottom of my first and only dogpile.

I have two... one is your typical "first game under the lights at 11 years of age."

My other one is that for many days each summer my friends and I would ride our bikes over to the baseball fields and play (with no parents around) for many hours. Just across the street was a sugar beet field where migrant workers would hoe beets, hour after hour. Kids my age would work all day in the fields and then go live in shacks my rural friends' parents owned.
Then one day, their work was done and they were gone... for another year.
I remember looking at my bike, my glove, and my baseball shoes and seeing them with their tattered clothing and working long before I arrived at the ball fields in the morning; them still working as we played our Little League games that night.
I remember seeing all that, and I remember feeling lucky...

Three baseball-related memories (I was too sorry a player to have a LL game memory)

10 years old...got to be batboy for the 1971 Reds in a Spring Training game in Cocoa, FL (where HOU used to train). Sparky was super nice to the kid..as were all the players...but especially Sparky (who still signed his name "George" at the time.

11 years old...got to do it again, this time for the 1972 Cardinals. I remember just kneeling in the on-deck circle talking to Lou Brock...he and Ken Boyer, a coach with the Cardinals, were great.

13 years old...my dad and I played hooky from work and school and saw Jim Palmer vs Vida Blue in Game 3 of the 1974 playoffs (still day games at the time)...I caught an upper deck BP HR ball (right on the LF line) and got a great hand from the fans...and saw a great pitching performance by both Palmer and Blue...I think the only run of the game scored on a Sal Bando HR.

Awesome idea for a thread and those other ones are classic too

My memories blend between my imagination watching my heroes play like JT mentioned and actually playing the game myself... I remember the game JT talks about and you didn't need radar guns to know Vida Blue and Jim Palmer threw hard. What fabulous pitchers they were! Sal Bando was from Cleveland btw. Talk about high and low effort pitchers, Jim Palmer may be the best example of an effortless pitcher of all time. The ball exploded out of his hand and I don't recall him ever having arm problems.... I digress...

My childhood memories were mixed... I was a lefty and could throw hard - relatively speaking for my tiny, small farming community. My Dad was a coach and he had several people try and teach me to throw but I could never quite understand how hard was too hard. In other words, I was hurting my arm when I threw and didn't know it or understand what pitching was about.

I was pretty decent at hitting batting practice home runs in little league but could never quite manage it in a game. My Dad was hard to please and was always needling me about not hitting them in the game.

In my last little league game at age 12, I was resigned to not hitting any before the game started. That little mental release allowed me to relax and hit two out in my last game. I can remember the slight smile from my Dad as I rounded third the second time and will never forget his slightly surprised expression. It was kind of like, if you would have only listend to me and relaxed, you would have hit more out

My next year at age 13 started the Babe Ruth league. I made a throw from the outfield and could tell there was something wrong with my arm. My career ended that summer because it hurt too much to throw. I still have arthritis in the arm and can only throw about 50% capacity to this day without pain.

My last at bats were home runs - 34 years ago. For many of us, our careers ended after Little League. How lucky are all of our kids for even playing in high school! I would have loved to play in high school but thankful for the time that I did get. My two sons and my daughter have more than made up for the times that I missed however

My dad had coached my younger brother in Little League for years. When I was 12, I learned that the baseball field was the place to find the cute boys—and what better excuse to be there than to hang out with my dad…I read the sports section of the paper every day, and I knew just as much about the game as the boys did— and probably even more. I knew batting averages, earned run averages, how many years the players were in the league, where they played previously....the batting order of both the Sox and Cubs…...even some birthdays!!!! My dad would yell at me to go outside and play. He thought that I didn’t have to watch every single baseball game on TV. How else could I memorize the lyrics and melody to my very favorite song of all time??? “From the land of sky blue wa-a-ters…wa-a-ters……From the land of pines, lofty balsams…….Comes the beer refreshing….Hamms the beer refreshing …Hamms….”

One year he coached the sons of two mobsters. One was ok, but the other was not very good—although he was huge…That kid had an attitude….and one day his dad threatened my dad with bodily harm if his kid didn’t play more than what was required. My dad told him that his kid wasn’t as good as the others on the team and with his attitude he didn’t deserve to play at all. The dad never said another word. But he also never hurt him. And one day out of the blue, he sent my mother flowers….

I was in junior high in the 60’s, before Title IX. And I wanted to play baseball!!!!!

The company that my dad worked for had season tickets to Comiskey Park (White Sox) and every year, he would take the kids to see one game. This was in the years before my family owned a color TV and we were used to watching the games—everything-- in black and white. Just stepping out into the narrow opening to the stands from the dark concourse was like finding the Emerald City—the field was green and the base paths were a ruddy mustard and the sky was blue! Everything was so full of color! The seats were fabulous-- two rows behind the White Sox dugout (!) and as a 12 and 13 year old girl, to see the very cute players walking into the dugout so close …well! I didn’t have to ask if it was heaven.
I knew!!!!

I was 11 years old (1960), down my Dominican Republic. I made the try-out as a 2nd baseman on a 11-12 LL team, they cut off the SS and moved me to that position. I thought I was moved to SS because I was better choice that the other 2nd baseman, I was the happiest kid in the team because that day was the last day of the try-out and the tournament was supppose to start next day at the University of Santo Domingo softball stadium. Next day when the line-up was anounced right before the game, I was in the bench and a new (kid?), that never we have seen before was the SS and 3rd batter. This guy was 6' tall, and probably 15 years old. So, I learned very young that for some people, to win is most important that any thingh, and they don't care how much damage they may cause to get it.
For that reason, when I had the opportunity to be a LL coach some years ago, I put the kids's learning, the kids's future, the kids's development, the kids arms, before any kind of wins. I am proud that I didn't have too many championship trofies in my house, but I have lot of kids that got success at HS, some with great success at college, and some that still fighting in the minors looking for their dreams. All the kids that pitched for my teams were able to pitch in HS or College without problems in their arms, they were strong on fundamentals, and most important yet, they got fun, and still loving baseball.

There was no baseball or any other sports for girls when I was young...I fell in love with watching my son play

I grew up in a very small town, the youngest of 4 sisters, all softball players. Every day all summer, we would bike down to the local park for practice or a game. No parents, just a slightly older girl as coach most years. When practice was over we would scrimmage ... we would play ball some more.

This thread made me think back and see myself on that softball field, and it looks beautiful! Green grass, blue sky, with just a few wispy clouds and a light breeze. Of course when I see the field in my mind, it's not the typical view from behind home plate, it's from my position at 2nd base, looking in to home plate, saying in my head "hit it to me, hit it to me". (In college, I got stronger and could finally throw hard, and switched to 3B.) As a kid, I could have stayed on that field all day, playing softball - and often did!

Having read this thread before driving three hours to my mom's house to visit her for Mom's Day, the thought of that ballfield stayed in my mind. So we had to take a walk this evening ... back to the ballfield. It's been 30, 35 years since I played there, and it hasn't changed! My mom says there are still lots of kids playing there, every summer day. I had forgotten that the same field was used for softball and baseball ... it has a low mound, I guess only 6 inches or so. But the green grass looks the same, the sky is still bluer there than it is a block away ... I still love that ballfield and all the memories of many, many happy hours spent there, some of the very best of my childhood. Thanks Jerry, for starting this topic.

Julie

Every post in this thread has been a classic! Please - lets hear some more stories Julie has gotten me to want to head up to Minnesota tomorow to stroll though her field of dreams. After that, I'll swing though Chicago to see where play baseball grew up.

Racab -

quote:

For that reason, when I had the opportunity to be a LL coach some years ago, I put the kids's learning, the kids's future, the kids's development, the kids arms, before any kind of wins. I am proud that I didn't have too many championship trofies in my house, but I have lot of kids that got success at HS, some with great success at college, and some that still fighting in the minors looking for their dreams. All the kids that pitched for my teams were able to pitch in HS or College without problems in their arms, they were strong on fundamentals, and most important yet, they got fun, and still loving baseball.

That should be the way it is for all our youth league coaches. Fun and love of the game is indeed a treasure that you have passed on to your players

today I read of all the elite travel showcase private instruction and everything and I wonder. Organized is better? We played from dawn to dusk. no umpires no adults. 1 ball that when it got beat you put tape on it. Wooden bats that when cracked were nailed. Fields that had rocks and broken glass. Oh yes we had organized ball was not LL at night but before that we always played. Did not cost a dime. We played stickball in the street. an old broom handle did the trick. we all chipped in for a ball(called a pimple ball) dodged traffic. When the ball went down the sewer as it sometimes did we lifted the lid and held the smallest guy by his feet to get it(talk about trust). Sometimes a neighbor was getting some work done on his roof(row homes) that was great we would ask the person to get any balls that we "roofed" over the course of time. Some were in good shape some were not. those that were not we cut in half and played half ball.
I go past a field now in the middle of a warm summer day and it is empty. I go back to my old city neighborhood and the stickball games of my youth are no longer played.

WILL
Thanks for you post, it made me remember great times.

quote:

Originally posted by ClevelandDad:
Julie has gotten me to want to head up to Minnesota tomorrow to stroll though her field of dreams. After that, I'll swing though Chicago to see where play baseball grew up.

ClevelandDad: We hope you do it! It would be a blast!!! By the way, although I was "raised" in suburban Chicago, I really "grew up" in Julie's neighborhood--I went to college in St. Paul and my first job and first apartment were in Minneapolis ...we could all meet in Minnesota!

This topic is GOLDEN!

It is bringing back memories of my inept playing years. I struggled but still treasure the time in my uniform. The specifics have nearly all been eclipsed by the wonderful memories of baseball with my 3 sons.

The memory most related to the spirit of this and the others mentioned at the top occurred in "the Land of Pleasant Living" (another memory stimulated by Play Baseball's Hamms jingle; this time National Bohemian). I took first two sons to an Orioles game against the Yankees in the mid-Eighties. #2 son, 7YO, struck up conversations with Don Baylor sitting at the end of the dugout. They wagered on the outcome of the game. I'm not sure what my son would have forfeited if the O's lost. But they prevailed and I will always remember Don Baylor holding a baseball high above his head and searching over and through the autograph seekers for my son to pay off the bet. I couldn't believe that they bet and was even more amazed at the effort to ensure settlement.

Nice looking, nice guy. Thanks, Don.

It's 1970 and I'm 10 years old and just moved to a new city. My parents signed me up for a little league team in an effort to help me meet some new kids and stuff. I had never played organized sports before, though I was a good athlete. At the time, baseball was OK, but not my favorite.

Since I came in to town in the middle of the season, I rode the bench for a while, just playing the minimum innings required.

One game we were short of players and I got to start in RF. Not sure of the inning, but bases were loeaded with 2 outs and someone from the other team hit a bomb in my direction, I turn and run backwards, and eventually make a diving catch to end the inning.

The very next inning the coach puts me at shortstop--where I never practiced at, much less played, and a few innings later, I'm on the mound pitching-which I never did before.

It was a pretty exciting day to say the least, and one that I will always remember. It is also the day that I fell in love with baseball!

Had a lot of good coaches in youth ball but the memory that stands out for me is rather mundane. At the beginning of our Colt league season as a 15yo we were playing a scrimmage against a team from another league and I got hammered in the first inning. Our coach who was one of the 16yo pitcher's older brother came out to the mound and I was ready to hand him the ball, but he told me that I was a good pitcher, that he had confidence in me and that he was going to leave me in. I didn't give up another run that game and although we lost the game, I didn't lose a game during the regular season. The coach sticking with me that day had a great impact on my whole season.

When I was 12 my team was playing an All-stars game against another park's team. I was playing LF, and the team we were playing had an enormous kid that could really stroke it. During a crucial time in the game that kid came up to bat: I remember him hitting the ball my way and knew immediately that it was an absolute blast! The park we were playing in did not have a homerun fence, so I took one look at the ball in flight and turned around and started running. I knew the ball would be landing beyond my abilities to catch it, and my immediate jump on the ball enabled me to track it down early. As I was running to where I thought the ball would land I actually saw the ball land in front of me with my back totally toward home. I made the relay throw to the SS who threw to 3rd - the tag was made and we won the game. Great stuff!

Last night at the local ice cream parlor. My wife and I took the our kids to get an ice cream and relax a bit. We ended up outside with a group of about 10 adults watching some of the best parking lot baseball you have ever seen.

While inside my boy jumped up out of his seat and left his ice cream sitting at the counter half eaten. It's very unlike my son to leave good ice cream anywhere so I knew something good must be happening outside. When I looked out there were some of his buddies with bats in hand and an old tennis ball. They were finding stuff to make bases with and setting upi the rules of this game. Home plate was a pizza box, the other bases were made up of some old ply wood and a seat cushion. Anything over the roof was a home run and if the ball was caught coming back off the roof you are out. They split into teams and got after it. Every adult in the place made their way outside to catch the action.

As more kids began showing up it became necessary to move some of the chairs and tables from inside out. Pretty soon there were about 15 kids from 5 to 14 playing a very organized little game of ball. We all just sat back and watched as the kids managed to keep the game going with all different ages and skill levels with no one getting left out or feeling outclassed. Even the four year old brother of one of the gang was allowed as many pitches as needed until he made contact. Then the kids tossed the ball all over the lot until he finally made his way around the bases for his first ever home run.

One really important thing that I know very few of us missed was the fact that a few of these kids had just come in from losing their second game of the local rec league tourney going on. They were out of the running and would not be playing anymore this spring. But there they were. Getting in just a few more innings with their friends before it was time to hang it up. There were no down faces and no talk of winning or losing that game. Kids that had shown up with the remnants of end of season tears on their faces were back in the game and all smiles when they left. My hope is that this parking lot game is what sticks with them and carries them forward mor so than the organized ball they just finished up.

We're currently having a great season and there are memories being made daily. Lots of stuff to look back at and smile. This will definitely end up as one of the best memories I have of this season for many reasons. Not the least of which was the smile on my little girls face as she ran around the bases while all of the big boys were somehow unable to tag her out.

I guess I posted this here because it reminded me of my childhood. It reminded me of how it used to be. Kids can't just run off to a local park or lot and play like we did then and thats sad. But for this short time they were all by them selves as far as they were concerned. Yeah, we parents were all out there soaking it all in, but I think teh kids were oblivious to that fact. We made no attempt to get involved and we were all left with a stronger love for the game and a deeper understandiing of it's value in the lives of these kids.

I LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE this thread!
I really, really do!

I believe that I was in 7th grade, playing senior league rec ball (I was involved in too many sports at the time to play travel ball). The league had just opened a new field, which was very nice at the time and some of the players from the local AAA team, the Las Vegas Stars (now the 51's) were there at the opening. This was in early April, and I spoke with one of the players for a while, Aaron Guiel, and he signed a ball for me and was extremely friendly.

Then later in August, the Las Vegas Stars had a meet the players night and before their game fans that got their early enough got to go down onto the OF and meet some of the players, get autographs, etc. I recognized Aaron Guiel from a few months earlier and went to reintroduce myself. As soon as I mentioned that I met him at our league's field dedication he remembered me and asked me how our year went. That gave me the chance to brag to him about how my team won the league championship, how well I hit, etc. He seemed to genuinely care, congratulated me, signed my hat, and ever since then I was hooked on baseball.

These were before the days of high speed internet, (seems so long ago, lol), and I lost track of Mr. Guiel's career and where he was. Then one day in the Las Vegas Review Journal's sports section, they had a very large picture of Aaron Guiel in a Royal's uniform, signing autographs for fans on opening day. I was so happy to see that he had made the big leagues, as he was a genuinely nice guy that helped a kid fall in love with baseball.

I don't know where he is this season if he still is playing ball (I think he'd be about 35 by now), but he spent last season with the Royals and Yankees.

During the sixties, and growing up in Salem,OR, we didn't have Little League that I can remember. We played the game on the street...both boys and girls...having a lot of fun...we'd break a few windows each season.

When we weren't playing ball we had dirt clod fights...breaking a few windows every now and then with a wayward throw. These dirt clod fights probably honed our baseball skills...it paid to be accurate. They probably sharpened our dodgeball skills as well...it paid not to get hit. Where else to learn the principles of aerodynamics than searching for that perfect clod? That clod, when thrown hard, would stay true on its course towards your intended victim. Because of low hanging branches you had to learn how to throw sidearm and keep the clod low and fast in order to score a hit.

I guess the same aerodynamic lessons could have been learned from selecting stones to skip, but that was a less frequent event since it required the availability of plenty of smooth, flat stones and of course a substantial body of water.

I don't have any youth baseball stories of my own. Didn't develop the "passion" until an adult. I love reading these though!!

Playbaseball - Do you not want to share about the "one that got away". LOL Something to do with elbows.....

quote:

Originally posted by lafmom:
I love reading these though!!

I agree! Aren't these great?

lafmom: Huh???? Oh. No, I don't think so...but maybe, what do you think?

I was 9, playing PeeWee in LL. Made it to third base as a runner. Play was still live and the opposing catcher walked up to the mound to talk to the pitcher, I noticed that he had not asked for time, I inched my way down line, about 2/3 way from home, I took off running, and scored. Opposing coach was up in arms, pitcher and catcher had no clue what was going on. The play stood, and I realized I have a certain baseball IQ.

It wasn’t long after Bob Short stole the Senators and moved them to Texas. I was interviewed by the Washington Post – I was young and can’t remember how old I was. My mom and dad prepared and sent a proposal to any and all officials they could think of with the idea of having city owned baseball teams. The players would be on contract to the city and as part of that commitment would be city ambassadors.

The team would have to be self funding which was possible because most stadiums were owned by the cities. They had a two column article in the Post about the proposal and my father’s dream (it still hangs on our refrigerator at home). Obviously the idea never took off.

I was mentioned in the article as being the traitor of the family because I was an Oriole fan. Finally got to see (as opposed to listening on the radio) the Orioles and was disappointed to discover something. It appeared to this young intellectual that Brooks and Frank Robinson were not actually related.

I think my fondest time back then was seeing my mom with her beat up AM radio tuning in to every game and listening intently to every pitch and crack of the bat. Both my parents were big time Boston born Red Sox fans but changed their allegiance when they moved to Washington so we kids could experience the fun of cheering on the Home Team.

Don’t mean this to be political but my dad only HATED two people in his life – Richard Nixon and Bob Short – I might have that out of order.

It is unfortunate that my parents never got to see my son play – I can envision my Dad with his stoic non-emotional look with a gleam in his eye watching the ball sail out of the park off my son’s bat. I don’t know how I could simulate the AM radio for Mom but I’m sure I would have found a way.

Great posts by all. Made me want to tell my childhood story.

Born in 1946, I grew up in a "suburb" of a small West Virginia Town. Within a mile of where I grew up there were enough kids my age to make two baseball teams. I was not allowed to play with these kids until I was about 8 or 9.

So for the early years of my life, my Dad [a semi-pro player that had played baseball in the Navy during WWII with and against Major League players] was my coach in our front yard. In the spring and summer, he would come home from work, eat supper and we would go out in the yard and play baseball. He hit ground balls, fly balls, pitched to me and just about everything two peop0le can do to play ball.

As there was no T-ball, or anything else for kids of my age, I looked forward to playing in the 9-12 baseball league that was starting in my town. Mom said I was too young and, I thought, that was that. Then about half way through the season, a 12 year old neighbor boy that had seen me hit a softball during recess at elementary school came to see my mom and begged her to let me play for them as they were down to 8 players. Mom finally agreed and I got to play right field for the remainder of the season. From then on I was hooked.

After that year every summer from then until High School my friends and I played baseball in a field near our houses when we weren't practicing or playing games with our league teams and my Dad played baseball in the front yard with my younger brothers until they each turned 9.

TW344

I was 10 and on the mound one evening. My dad was the head coach. Believe it was the 2nd or 3rd inning. I hit 3 batters in a row. As I was streaming tears down my cheeks (cause of course it hurt me more than the poor batters), I looked over toward the other team's bench. The coach was trying to push the next hitter to home plate. With all his strength, the batter was fighting him. I guess he didn't want to be victim #4?

What a great thread, thanks again PG for starting this one.

Will, oh my goodness:

"When the ball went down the sewer as it sometimes did we lifted the lid and held the smallest guy by his feet to get it(talk about trust)."


I have so many memories of youth fastpitch softball, but another one came to mind when reading this. We were practicing at my "field of dreams" as CD termed it earlier (our local baseball field) and a very strong teammate my age (I think we were 16) was batting while our junior-college aged female coach was catching. I don't know what the miscommunication was, but WHACK, an aluminum softball bat connected hard with the coach/catcher's head (only a mask was usually worn, no helmet). Blood was dripping all over the place and a trip to the emergency room was definitely needed! No cell phones in those days, but we never thought of calling a parent anyway. A couple of players drove the coach in for stitches and to get checked for a concussion (yes, she had one) while the rest of us shook our heads for a while and then resumed practice.

Just another memory of how parents weren't needed for baseball/softball in those days - even when blood was flowing!

Julie

quote:

Originally posted by Will:
...those that were not we cut in half and played half ball.

Half ball? Anything like half clod?