Small Ball
Get ’em on
Get ’em over
Get ’em in
Jimmie Aaron Kepler
2012
Photo Source: United States Information Agency [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
Small Ball
Tag: baseball
Dizzy Dean and Pee Wee Reese
From 1958 to 1963 I called the Phoenix, Arizona area home. Well, I lived in Glendale from 1958 to 1960 and on Luke Air Force Base from 1960 to 1963. The Phoenix area hosted Major League Baseball’s Cactus League every spring. Named for the cactus that was everywhere in the Arizona desert, in 1963 the league hosted Chicago Cubs, Boston Red Sox, Cleveland Indians, San Francisco Giants, Houston Colt .45s, and the California Angels
I’ve said a few times being military brat had many benefits. One advantage was the USO sponsored events with ball players. The big leaguers weren’t too big to come to my elementary school on their off days and work with us on fielding and hitting, the fundamentals of baseball.
In the spring of 1963, we had a big thrill as Dizzy Dean and Pee Wee Reese came to a calling. Dizzy Dean had pitched for the St Louis Cardinals. He won over thirty ball games back in the 1930s. Pee Wee Reese was the famous Brooklyn Dodger shortstop and Jackie Robinson’s roommate. They made up the famous announcing team for the Game of the Week. Broadcast each Saturday afternoon, three out of every four televisions in the USA were tuned into the game.
I played Little League Baseball like most boys. I was the third baseman for the Luke Lions that year. I was one of the few nine years old boys to make the Little League Roster. We played a game when old Dizz and Pee Wee were on the air base. What a thrill it was for the players and most of the airman and their families when the announcer pair showed up at our dusty field. The USAF special services people and USO liaison people were there as well.
That night the special services airmen set up special speakers and a public address system. Dizzy and Pee Wee took a seat in front of the microphone and introduced the teams, the players, and I almost fainted when one of them called my name. The same men that called the names of Sandy Koufax, Mickey Mantle and Willie Mays called my name. They didn’t stop there. They did a play by play of the game over the PA system. It was just like they did announce the game of the week every Saturday.
Meeting the ballplayers and getting coached by them was great. But having Dizzy Dean and Pee Wee Reese announce my Little League game was a lifetime memory.
Did you have any similar memories from your childhood? Please leave a remembrance in the comments if you do.
Mrs. Brown You’ve Got a Lovely Daughter
As a military brat, the end of the school year always meant Little League Baseball. As an eleven years old boy in May of 1965, three things occupied me life. They were Boy Scouts, baseball, and a little garage band I had just joined.
Spring and the start of the baseball season never failed to give me dreams of playing professional baseball. “Tryout Saturday,” as we called it back then, was a day when coaches and managers could see your talents. They woul have us field ground balls, catch pop flys, and take batting practice.
I could catch or knock down any baseball hit my way. My father had taught me to get in front of the ball and let my body help knock it down if it missed my glove. I could then pick up the ball and throw out the runner. I could hit the cover of a baseball in 1965. I was the only kid my age that was a switch hitter. When batting right-handed I could hit the ball over the fence with regularity. When hitting left-handed I was more a contact hitter. I would knock the ball to all fields hitting for a high batting average. I was good. I knew it. My dad knew it. The coaches and managers knew it.
Selected second overall, I went to the Cardinals. Also on my team was Bobby Mars. He was in the band that had recently asked me to be their rhythm guitarist. Bobby could do something I could never do consistently. He could sing lead. I’m talking about a pop star, rock idol, lead singer quality voice. He had a voice that the girls swooned over.
Bobby got all the boys on the team to sing. The song of choice was Herman’s Hermits (featuring Peter Noone on lead vocals) “Mrs. Brown You’ve Got a Lovely Daughter.” I started bringing an acoustic six-string guitar to baseball practice. I put my handkerchief close to the bridge of the guitar body to mute the sound. It gave an almost banjo-like sound. We would sing “Mrs. Brown You’ve Got a Lovely Daughter” over and over.
The first time we would sing using the correct lyrics. Then we would begin substituting the last name of the every boy on the baseball team like “Mrs. Smith” or “Mrs. Jones” instead of “Mrs. Brown”. We would always end with Mrs. Mars You’ve Got a Lovely Martian and giggle. We sang the tune with a heavy, fake British accent.
One of the things that made the song, so appealing was Peter Noone. He was barely five or six years older than me and the boys on the team. Many had brothers his age. When we watched him on Shindig, American Bandstand, Hullabaloo and Where the Action Is. Peter had a charisma that we only saw elsewhere in The Beatles.
The musical summer of 1965 was special. The music of Herman’s Hermits “Mrs. Brown” and The Beatles “Ticket to Ride” captured our imagination. The Beach Boys “Help Me, Rhonda” and The Byrds “Mr. Tambourine Man” blasted from our little AM radios. The Rolling Stones “Satisfaction” became the first rock anthem our lives. Herman’s Hermits “I’m Henry VIII, I Am” had us singing along once more with Peter Noone.
We also followed the Houston Astros and Los Angeles Dodgers baseball teams in the newspapers and on the radio. After all, El Paso where I lived on Biggs Air Force Base, was about halfway between Houston and Los Angeles.
Music filled the summer days. Baseball filled the summer nights.
Baseball on KBAT, 680, AM, San Antonio, Texas in 1963-64
In June of 1963 my family moved from Luke Air Force Base near Phoenix, Arizona to Seguin, Texas. Seguin was thirty miles east of San Antonio and near my mother’s family. The reason we moved was my dad’s orders to go to South Vietnam for a one-year tour of duty. He would be there from August 1963 to August 1964.
If anything good came out of a year’s family separation, it was my getting my very own electric AM radio. Dad also got me a one-year subscription to The Sporting News Magazine and well as Baseball Magazine’s 1964 season preview magazine. It contained all the official records for the then twenty Major League Baseball teams.
When we moved to Sequin, Texas dad made sure I knew the Houston Colt .45s baseball team’s games were easily found on my radio. He found the game on KBAT, 680, AM, San Antonio, Texas. He put a spot on the radio dial using red fingernail polish in case I lost the station. That way I could dial it back in. It would be years before digital dials would be available on radios. He also gave me a copy of the Houston team’s schedule for 1964. I lived my life with the ball games being the focal point.
Gene Elston and Loel Passe were the radio announcers. I spent almost every night with them talking on my radio in August and September of 1963 and then again in April through September 1964.
Today baseball gets a bad rap for being slow in the age of video games and Sportscenter highlights. Baseball is not boring. I like to call baseball a talking sport. I love the stories the announcers tell between the ebb and flow of the game. The stories start during the pre-game broadcast. Many times they would begin with a story from baseball’s past, sharing the history of the game. Yes, they would do a preview of the day’s game before moving to the action. I would get excited as Loel and Gene would comment on Houston Manager Harry Craft taking out the line-up card and meeting to opposing manager. I always like it best when the Colts played the Los Angeles Dodgers. They would mention Walter Alston taking out the line-up card. They had Sandy Koufax and Don Drysdale.
The pregame broadcast would be especially fun when the Colts played the Milwaukee Braves with Hank Aaron and Eddi Matthews. The Braves manager was Bobby Bragan. He was a southerner who later was president of the Texas League. Bobby Bragan could spin a yarn as good as anyone. His stories are still legendary.
Back in 1964 baseball games were only on television on Saturdays, so the radio was the window to the world. Gene and Loel could paint a picture with words. The grass was greener when they described it. The humidity in old Colt Stadium in Houston had me sweating 150 miles away.
The team wasn’t very good in 1964. It was a bunch of young kids and older players. I didn’t care how bad they were. They were my team. Before the season ended manager Harry Craft was replaced by Luman Harris as manager. I still remember the players. Jerry Grote and John Bateman split the duties at catcher. Walt Bond played first base. He was the best offensive player on the team. At second base was an old Nellie Fox. The hall of fame would be in his future. It would be for his paly with the Chicago White Sox in the 1950s, not Houston. Eddie Kasko was at shortstop. I remembered him from his days with Cincinnati, third base was Bob Aspermonte, the outfield was Al Spangler, Jimmy Wynn and Joe Gaines. The pitchers were Bob Bruce, Turk Farrell, Ken Johnson, Don Nottebart and closer Hal Woodeshick.
Most games started at 7 PM and ended by 9 to 9:15 PM back then. I would sit on my bed reading the Baseball Magazine and The Sporting News while Gene and Loel told their never ending stories. That was the year I grew to love baseball. As a ten-year-old boy, there was nothing better. Television, playing with friends and everything else took a back seat to listening to the game on KBAT, 680, AM in San Antonio, Texas.
Listening to baseball on the radio was fun. It still is. I am listening to the New York Mets playing the Texas Rangers in the next to last exhibition game of the 2015 exhibition season as I type this story. No, I don’t have the game on the television. I am listening to it on the radio.
Baseball on KBAT, 680, AM, San Antonio, Texas in 1963-64
In June of 1963 my family moved from Luke Air Force Base near Phoenix, Arizona to Seguin, Texas. Seguin was thirty miles east of San Antonio and near my mother’s family. The reason we moved was my dad’s orders to go to South Vietnam for a one-year tour of duty. He would be there from August 1963 to August 1964.
If anything good came out of a year’s family separation, it was my getting my very own electric AM radio. Dad also got me a one-year subscription to The Sporting News Magazine and well as Baseball Magazine’s 1964 season preview magazine. It contained all the official records for the then twenty Major League Baseball teams.
When we moved to Sequin, Texas dad made sure I knew the Houston Colt .45s baseball team’s games were easily found on my radio. He found the game on KBAT, 680, AM, San Antonio, Texas. He put a spot on the radio dial using red fingernail polish in case I lost the station. That way I could dial it back in. It would be years before digital dials would be available on radios. He also gave me a copy of the Houston team’s schedule for 1964. I lived my life with the ball games being the focal point.
Gene Elston and Loel Passe were the radio announcers. I spent almost every night with them talking on my radio in August and September of 1963 and then again in April through September 1964.
Today baseball gets a bad rap for being slow in the age of video games and Sportscenter highlights. Baseball is not boring. I like to call baseball a talking sport. I love the stories the announcers tell between the ebb and flow of the game. The stories start during the pre-game broadcast. Many times they would begin with a story from baseball’s past, sharing the history of the game. Yes, they would do a preview of the day’s game before moving to the action. I would get excited as Loel and Gene would comment on Houston Manager Harry Craft taking out the line-up card and meeting to opposing manager. I always like it best when the Colts played the Los Angeles Dodgers. They would mention Walter Alston taking out the line-up card. They had Sandy Koufax and Don Drysdale.
The pregame broadcast would be especially fun when the Colts played the Milwaukee Braves with Hank Aaron and Eddi Matthews. The Braves manager was Bobby Bragan. He was a southerner who later was president of the Texas League. Bobby Bragan could spin a yarn as good as anyone. His stories are still legendary.
Back in 1964 baseball games were only on television on Saturdays, so the radio was the window to the world. Gene and Loel could paint a picture with words. The grass was greener when they described it. The humidity in old Colt Stadium in Houston had me sweating 150 miles away.
The team wasn’t very good in 1964. It was a bunch of young kids and older players. I didn’t care how bad they were. They were my team. Before the season ended manager Harry Craft was replaced by Luman Harris as manager. I still remember the players. Jerry Grote and John Bateman split the duties at catcher. Walt Bond played first base. He was the best offensive player on the team. At second base was an old Nellie Fox. The hall of fame would be in his future. It would be for his paly with the Chicago White Sox in the 1950s, not Houston. Eddie Kasko was at shortstop. I remembered him from his days with Cincinnati, third base was Bob Aspermonte, the outfield was Al Spangler, Jimmy Wynn and Joe Gaines. The pitchers were Bob Bruce, Turk Farrell, Ken Johnson, Don Nottebart and closer Hal Woodeshick.
Most games started at 7 PM and ended by 9 to 9:15 PM back then. I would sit on my bed reading the Baseball Magazine and The Sporting News while Gene and Loel told their never ending stories. That was the year I grew to love baseball. As a ten-year-old boy, there was nothing better. Television, playing with friends and everything else took a back seat to listening to the game on KBAT, 680, AM in San Antonio, Texas.
Listening to baseball on the radio was fun. It still is. I am listening to the New York Mets playing the Texas Rangers in the next to last exhibition game of the 2015 exhibition season as I type this story. No, I don’t have the game on the television. I am listening to it on the radio.
Mrs. Brown You’ve Got a Lovely Daughter
As a military brat, the end of the school year always meant Little League Baseball. As an eleven years old boy in May of 1965, three things occupied me life. They were Boy Scouts, baseball, and a little garage band I had just joined.
Spring and the start of the baseball season never failed to give me dreams of playing professional baseball. “Tryout Saturday,” as we called it back then, was a day when coaches and managers could see your talents. They woul have us field ground balls, catch pop flys, and take batting practice.
I could catch or knock down any baseball hit my way. My father had taught me to get in front of the ball and let my body help knock it down if it missed my glove. I could then pick up the ball and throw out the runner. I could hit the cover of a baseball in 1965. I was the only kid my age that was a switch hitter. When batting right-handed I could hit the ball over the fence with regularity. When hitting left-handed I was more a contact hitter. I would knock the ball to all fields hitting for a high batting average. I was good. I knew it. My dad knew it. The coaches and managers knew it.
Selected second overall, I went to the Cardinals. Also on my team was Bobby Mars. He was in the band that had recently asked me to be their rhythm guitarist. Bobby could do something I could never do consistently. He could sing lead. I’m talking about a pop star, rock idol, lead singer quality voice. He had a voice that the girls swooned over.
Bobby got all the boys on the team to sing. The song of choice was Herman’s Hermits (featuring Peter Noone on lead vocals) “Mrs. Brown You’ve Got a Lovely Daughter.” I started bringing an acoustic six-string guitar to baseball practice. I put my handkerchief close to the bridge of the guitar body to mute the sound. It gave an almost banjo-like sound. We would sing “Mrs. Brown You’ve Got a Lovely Daughter” over and over.
The first time we would sing using the correct lyrics. Then we would begin substituting the last name of the every boy on the baseball team like “Mrs. Smith” or “Mrs. Jones” instead of “Mrs. Brown”. We would always end with Mrs. Mars You’ve Got a Lovely Martian and giggle. We sang the tune with a heavy, fake British accent.
One of the things that made the song, so appealing was Peter Noone. He was barely five or six years older than me and the boys on the team. Many had brothers his age. When we watched him on Shindig, American Bandstand, Hullabaloo and Where the Action Is. Peter had a charisma that we only saw elsewhere in The Beatles.
The musical summer of 1965 was special. The music of Herman’s Hermits “Mrs. Brown” and The Beatles “Ticket to Ride” captured our imagination. The Beach Boys “Help Me, Rhonda” and The Byrds “Mr. Tambourine Man” blasted from our little AM radios. The Rolling Stones “Satisfaction” became the first rock anthem our lives. Herman’s Hermits “I’m Henry VIII, I Am” had us singing along once more with Peter Noone.
We also followed the Houston Astros and Los Angeles Dodgers baseball teams in the newspapers and on the radio. After all, El Paso where I lived on Biggs Air Force Base, was about halfway between Houston and Los Angeles.
Music filled the summer days. Baseball filled the summer nights.
Dizzy Dean and Pee Wee Reese
From 1958 to 1963 I called the Phoenix, Arizona area home. Well, I lived in Glendale from 1958 to 1960 and on Luke Air Force Base from 1960 to 1963. The Phoenix area hosted Major League Baseball’s Cactus League every spring. Named for the cactus that were everywhere in the Arizona desert, in 1963 the league hosted Chicago Cubs, Boston Red Sox, Cleveland Indians, San Francisco Giants, Houston Colt .45s, and the California Angels
I’ve said a few times being military brat had many benefits. One advantage was the USO sponsored events with ball players. The big leaguers weren’t too big to come to my elementary school on their off days and work with us on fielding and hitting, the fundamentals of baseball.
In the spring of 1963, we had a big thrill as Dizzy Dean and Pee Wee Reese came a calling. Dizzy Dean had pitched for the St Louis Cardinals. He won over thirty ball games back in the 1930s. Pee Wee Reese was the famous Brooklyn Dodger shortstop and Jackie Robinson’s roommate. They made up the famous announcing team for the Game of the Week. Broadcast each Saturday afternoon, three out of every four televisions in the USA were tuned into the game.
I played Little League Baseball like most boys. I was the third baseman for the Luke Lions that year. I was one of the few nine years old boys to make the Little League Roster. We played a game when old Dizz and Pee Wee were on the air base. What a thrill if was for the players and most of the airman and their families when the announcer pair showed up at our dusty field. The USAF special services people and USO liaison people were there as well.
That night the special services airmen set up special speakers and a public address system. Dizzy and Pee Wee took a seat in front of the microphone and introduced the teams, the players, and I almost fainted when one of them called my name. The same men that called the names of Sandy Koufax, Mickey Mantle and Willie Mays called my name. They didn’t stop there. They did a play by play of the game over the PA system. It was just like they did announcing the game of the week every Saturday.
Meeting the ballplayers and getting coached by them was great. But having Dizzy Dean and Pee Wee Reese announce my Little League game was a lifetime memory.
Did you have any similar memories from your childhood? Please leave a remembrance in the comments if you do.
I Wish It Would Rain
I love rain. Many people hate it. I love it. We are in a bad drought in north Texas. Many of the lakes that provide our water are less than 20% full. This is a good time to reflect on needed rain. As I write this on October 7 it is 101 degrees on my front porch. It is hot and dry. Why should I love rain? It is not easy for people to understand, but I will try to explain.
Rain is a precious gift from God. It falls from the sky. Sometimes it falls in large amounts. Sometimes it comes from the heavens in small amounts. Sometimes it doesn’t visit us for weeks or months at a time. When it does visit, it always brings its friend the clouds. Rain can also bring its noisy colleague thunder and bright pal lightning.
Rain is like a guest in your home. At first, you are glad to see the rain, but if it stays around too long, it can out stay its welcome.
Rain can be refreshing. It gives the air and the countryside a shower. It washes the pollen from the air. It washes the pollen off the cars, sidewalks, and driveways. Rain removes dust from the leaves of the flowers, bushes and trees.
The temperature falls when the rains come. Rain transforms the hot world into a cool, air-conditioned environment in the summer and a chilly one in the winter. It helps you appreciate a warm, dry house. It is a muse for Ray Bradbury as he writes short stories about it in “The Illustrated Man”.
Rain also helps a person forget their troubles. You worry less about how you look. After all, the water from the mud puddle may have splashed on you. You enjoy freedom from irritations. Only those people who truly want to see you will come see you in the rain. Most gripers and complainers stay away when it is wet outside. They wait for a less rainy day.
It is fun walking outside when it rains, especially with an umbrella. Just singing in the rain … you can hold an umbrella in one hand, letting it prop on your shoulder. When the rain falls, the propped up open umbrella keeps you from getting soaking wet. It is fun to take a wet umbrella, hold it at a forty-five degree angle to the ground and spin it around and around making something magical happens. The drops of rain the umbrella has collected go flying off in every direction away from the umbrella holder. You can aim the umbrella where the drops spray someone or you can splatter the drops on the ground as you spin the umbrella ‘round and ‘round.
Even if you don’t own an umbrella you can still have fun in the rain. Shopping malls miraculously have parking spaces available closer to the door when it’s raining. The crowds are noticeably smaller. The joy of the mall increases as you experience less hustle and bustle. At church, better seats are available.
A sad not about rain is it sometimes cancels baseball games. While this is sad, though not to all wives, it does hold the potential of prolonging our great national pastime’s season or giving us the rare treat of the near extinct double-header. Without rain, there would not be real green grass on the baseball fields, rain checks from baseball games, manageable crowds at the mall, or great seats easily available at church. Rain makes the world a nice place.
Without rain, the flowers would not grow. Without rain, there would be no Fillet of Fish at McDonald’s Restaurants. Without rain there would be no people living.
I love rain. Now, I just wish it would rain. Here’s a little mood music by The Temptations. It is their 1960s hit “I Wish It Would Rain”.
Written by: Jimmie A. Kepler