Archive for the ‘Behind the Scenes’ Category

19 years Later……..

Posted: February 28, 2011 in 1990, Behind the Scenes, Hank

Some of you know I’m a Golf Pro now.  I turned Pro on April the 21st, 2009 at the ripe-old age of 49.  I had to take a 36-hole test with the PGA of America called the PAT (Playing Ability Test).  I took it up in San Jose.  The Test has about an 80% failure rate…so passing that test on my first try was a big thrill for me.  Still, I make my money working at a Law Firm during the week.  I’m like a really, really part-time Golf Pro now. 

So I was out at Hansen Dam one day during the week in July of ’09.  I like to go out as a single and play with whoever.  It doesn’t matter much to me who I end up playing with.  I just love The Game of Golf.  You run into all kinds of interesting folks out there, and this day was no exception.

I was paired with an OLD guy about 60 years old and a younger guy around 35-40.  I say the guy around 60 was OLD because I’m now 50…..(in fact 51 here in just a few days) and I’m always now looking to call someone else OLD so I feel a bit younger.  Anyways, they were nice guys and we were having a good time out there.

The younger kid was just flat-out BOMBING the ball.  I mean, this guy could hit it!  He didn’t have much of a short game but I was cracking up at how far he could hit a golf ball.  The second hole was a LONG par five and his second shot went OVER the green!  Damn..I’m thinking.  But that’s what I love about Golf.  I don’t ever get into this thing where I’m playing AGAINST someone in the group…I just play against the course.  The course gives me plenty to handle. 

Then around the third hole I was thinking that this kid that was bombing the hell out of the ball looked REALLY familiar.  He had already told me his first name.  I kept thinking “who is this guy?”….it was driving me crazy!

Then after my approach shot on the fourth hole I figured it out.  It’s MILLIGAN!!!  I couldn’t stop laughing to myself.  The guy Hank had slap-tagged the shit out of 19 years ago!!  It brought back so many great memories.  So what should I do?  Should I tell him who I was?  Should I dare mention the name Verdugo to the guy?  What if he went ballistic and clubbed me to death with a nine-iron?  This made it even more interesting…and I still couldn’t stop laughing to myself…at least when I had a chance.  I certainly didn’t want him putting me on the spot and saying…”okay…what’s so funny?”  So I had to be cool when I was laughing/smiling and thinking of ‘Ol Hank’s slap tags.

Finally, on the sixth hole…(another long par five) I decided to say something.  I said “Hey, is your last name MILLIGAN?”

“Yeah” he said.  “How did you know that?”

“I used to coach a little baseball a few years ago and I remember you.”  I said.

“What team did you coach?” he asked.

I just kind of smiled and said to him “Does the name Verdugo Hills mean anything to you?”

He looked at the ground.  He was searching his memory bank.  He looked back at me.  Then he looked back at the ground.  Then his face started to kind of contort a little bit.  He got a big frown on his face.  He looked back at me.  I thought he was going to kill me.

“You guys had that fucking first baseman who wore the goggles and his jersey number was zero.” he said.

“Oh fuck”…he said.  “what a fucking rivalry we had.” 

He went on.  “It took everything we had in us to not brawl you guys that day.  We were SO close to brawling you guys.”

Over the next 12 holes we talked about everything.  Hank.  Jody.  American Legion.  And yes, even the slap-tagging incident.  It was 19 years later, probably almost to the day.  He said something very cool.  He said “we hated you guys, but we respected you.” 

I spent an afternoon with Milligan on the Golf Course.  It was a great day.  I realized that bad blood and bad feelings don’t have to last.  We had a great time.  And you know what?  Milligan would have fit right in with our Program as well.  He was and IS a good guy.  He turned out well.  Other than wearing a different uniform than we wore and playing for Jody….he was just like the rest of us.  I have to say…I liked him.

Still….you know ‘Ol Milligan and I were doing a “little” scorekeeping of our own that day on the course.  Even though we were getting along and exchanging pleasantries…it was STILL  (in our minds) VERDUGO against Notre Dame.  And I shot a 73 that afternoon and beat him by about 10 shots………………

MANHUNT

Posted: February 25, 2011 in Behind the Scenes

I’ve done about 20 posts here in the last couple of weeks.  I need a little breather.  So I will be taking a day or two off from the keyboard to just kind of regroup.  I hope you guys are enjoying The Blog.  Subscribe to it!!  It will automatically alert you when a new post has been written.  I appreciate all of the comments you guys are making, the pictures being sent in, and the feedback we are getting.  We even had a comment a couple of days ago from someone called “JimmyMack35″……you know what’s cool about that?  I have NO idea who JimmyMack35 is!!  JimmyMack35 posted a comment in the story “Estimated Cost…$10,000.00…”   I think you guys might like my response to his question.  Keep in mind…this is an attempt from someone to kind of “get in our dugout”….so perhaps you guys might want to say something to “JimmyMack35” as well.  So if you are reading this out there “JimmyMack35” please don’t take offense to our responses…we’re kind of protective of “our dugout.”  And to the rest you folks out there reading this who have no affiliation with any of us….ROCK ON!!!  Thanks for checking in and reading all of the great stories………..

I will be posting more stats and I’m trying to get my scanner working so I can get some stories in here that were originally written by the L.A. Times, Daily News, and Foothill Leader.  I still have just about everything the papers ever wrote about us.  So in a day or so I’ll be hitting the ground running again with lots of new material. 

There is one thing some of you guys could do that would be a big help.  Help us find some of your old teammates who we are having trouble locating!!!  Here is a list of the guys we are looking for:  Wiley Jackson, Gantt, Greenberg, Fielder, Gabrielson,  Cal Frost, Ivan Moreno, Garrett Lee, Brian McBride, Damon Martin, Breckow, and Vic Ramirez.  Help….we need to find these guys…..

I actually FOUND Wiley Jackson.  I was looking in our scorebook from 1992 and all of the phone numbers for the players on our roster that season are written inside of it.  I took a stab and called his old house.  His mom picked up the phone.  Wiley just moved to New York City.  I left her my contact information to pass on to him but I haven’t heard from Wiley yet……….but we all KNOW ‘Ol Wiley will call.  So let’s go!  Anything you can do to try and track someone down will be helpful. 

Thanks to Workman and Turner for the pictures you sent in….and BullOxen for all the great comments.  And to all you sleezebags out there who are thinking about stealing all of the stories from this blog and making a movie out of it…..don’t even think about it…..BullOxen and Turner are already writing the screenplay as we speak!!!

“Nance”…………

Posted: February 23, 2011 in Behind the Scenes, BullOxen, Calf

Her name was Nancy.  We all called her “Nance.”  She was a mother to all of us.  Nothing got by Nance.  She knew what was going on at ALL times.  Yet she never said a word.  She knew about all of the hell-raising we were doing…..but she just kind of looked the other way.  You know, the original coaching staff was General and I.  But every year, even as the coaching staff was growing, we had an invisible coach.  One extra coach who nobody knew about.  Someone who wanted to win as much as we did.  Someone who probably knew the game more than we did.  Someone who did more behind the scenes for this Team than we could ever report in this Blog.  It was Nance.  She understood that “Boys will be Boys” and I think that’s why we all loved her.  If we got too out of line she would just kind of give us that look.  And then, when we got the message she was sending us with that look….she would always smile.

Even the day after we clinched our first playoff spot….when everyone was hungover and walking around the field with open flesh wounds from “Gar-burns” all she said was “Kelly, did you boys burn yourselves with cigars last night?”  I just kind of looked at her…guilty as hell…as if to say “what can I say?”

Nobody kept a scorebook like Nance.  I first met Nancy at the second game of our Team’s history in 1990 when we were playing Burbank.  We got everything ready, had the pre-game drill, and I was holding the scorebook when the game started.  I was going to keep score.  She looked at me and said “you want me to do that for you?”  I was happy she offered.  I just was wondering what she was going to write down in the book.  Being the idiot that I was….I figured she didn’t know what she was doing.  Well…we won the game…and it was a big win.  I went to look at the book after the game and it was the most MASTERFUL scorekeeping I had ever seen.  The kind of thing that could bring a tear to your eye.  I was humbled.  And then when I got to talking with her I realized this woman knew the game better than I did.  When BullOxen told me that his mother was his hitting coach…..I never tried to give him ANY advice as a hitter.  His swing was in good hands………..Bull used to say “nobody knows my swing better than my mom.”

And she was the coolest.  Smoking cigs….talking baseball.  What could be better than that?  I’ve been looking at the books for the last couple of weeks and I now know how lucky we were to have Nance on our side.  Perfect Books.  You see….she would even write in comments about what happened in the game if there was room in the scorebook.  Like when Fielder leaped over the catcher at Crespi…Nance wrote in “somehow he scored – caught in rundown – overthrow at third – jumped over catcher.”

Or when there was a bad call…Nance wouldn’t write in “Bad Call” in the book.  She would abbreviate it.  She would abbreviate it to “BFC.”  I’m sure you readers out there know what the ‘F” means.  Of course she would write that in ONLY if the call went against us.  “T7″…..”MB6″….”MT4″…”RUN T7″……….pitch count at the bottom…..everything a manager could dream of was right there in the book.  Here I am almost 20 years later…and thanks to Nance…I can open the scorebooks and can literally watch the game all over again.  Incredible. 

BullOxen and Calf are lucky to have such a great mom.  And I’m lucky she didn’t kill me for all the hell I raised……or take my job as Manager of The Team.  And we’re all lucky she took such great care of us.  Thank you Nance for all you did FOR ALL OF US.  And FROM ALL OF US………if we never said it to you…we can all say it now….We love you!!!!!!!!!

Yeah, I was thinking about it today.  How much money is this reunion gonna cost us (or somebody else)???  I don’t really even need to itemize anything.  If I say its gonna be ten grand, then it’s gonna be ten grand!!  And I figure the cost of this reunion will be about 10 grand.  Now, I’m not saying this to scare anyone away….easy, now.  Remember…we’re VERDUGO…so it won’t cost US ANYTHING!!!  And really, why should guys like Turner, Hack, Wiley (who is now in New York City), or anyone else outside the state have to pay airfare?  Being the Rockstars we are……..I’m sorry, but there’s just gonna have to be some fans out there reading this blog to step up!!  I mean, why should the coaching staff have to drive themselves to the event when a few of our fans out there can get us a fleet of limos for the evening (or the weekend)?  Why should we be sitting around eating pasta when some of the fans of this blog who don’t even know us ought to be stepping up to hook us up with a little Filet Mignon???  I mean, why the hell should these young men who General and I personally molded into God-fearing, upstanding, tax paying Americans have anything less than the finest?  Trust me….I’m the first guy to call someone out if they bring a “sense of entitlement” to the table….but let me tell you fans of this blog something and you better believe what I tell you…..these kids deserve it!!  Yeah…you folks out there who don’t even know us who are reading this blog and giggling to yourselves when you leave this site……Did you think all of this shit was for FREE???  As Spiro used to say……..”No, no..”

Look, never in my wildest dreams did I think that I’d write a few stories on a blog and the whole Team would become the darlings of America!!!   I mean, I can’t even go get a pack of smokes at the store now without signing a few autographs….and I’m sure these poor kids of ours are going through the same type of shit with the paparazzi.  So when I say it’s gonna cost you fans of ours 10 grand I’m not kidding!!  (Actually, 20 grand would be better).  And I’m here to say right now that Verdugo will hold the reunion all right…and it will be funded by O.P. Money…you know what O.P. Money is?  OTHER PEOPLES MONEY!!  That’s right!!!  So step it up!!  We promise to send you an autographed picture or something for your minimum donation of $1000.00.  And we might even write you a thank you note……or put your picture on this blog!!!……..but then again, we’re Verdugo…….and after we’ve taken your money….you’ll probably NEVER hear from us again!!!

Yes, Hack Workman just happened to have some additional vintage Verdugo footage.  Here they are before one of our games at Stengel Field going through their pre-game ritual of “FLIP.”  Now, do you readers out there STILL think we’re just making this stuff up?  Notice how the ball is in the air!!!!!!!!!!!!!  This was the ’93 Team.  Now, could someone PLEASE explain to me the rules of this game??????

From $1000.00 to a TEAM BUS?

Posted: February 14, 2011 in Behind the Scenes

I’ll never forget the first year I went into the Legion Post in La Crescenta in late 1989 and asked them for money to sponsor our team.  At the time there was a “La Crescenta” Legion team, but it didn’t have anything to do with Post 288.  In fact, when I made the initial contact with a guy named Dave Haskell…I was told they had NOT sponsored a team in almost 30 years.  That was really not so encouraging to find out.  However, I had a good feeling about Haskell from our first phone call.  He, at the time, was The Commander of Post 288 and had a lot of pull there and said he would at least give me a chance to make my pitch to the rest of the members of The Post.  However, he made it VERY CLEAR to me that this was not going to be HIS decision and that if I wanted any help putting this thing together that I was going to have to convince ALL of the members of Post 288.

I went to the meeting and was introduced to about 30 people and just started walking towards the podium.  They all said “STOP!”  I learned that it was a Legion tradition that when you were to speak at one of these events you had to be officially “escorted” to the podium by two members.  So I walked up to the podium with one old veteran holding my right arm and another veteran holding my left arm.  On top of that, they all clapped in unison to the beat of our footsteps as we approached the podium.  Needless to say, by the time I made it up there, I was crapping my pants.

I nervously made it through my speech.  These were SERIOUS guys.  And they listened to every single word I said.  You could see the painful expressions on their face as they began to realize that I wasn’t coming in here asking for 50 bucks.  Most of them objected to getting involved.  They felt that they would help us out and not get any recognition or appreciation.  It was NOT looking good.  After about 10 minutes of going through rebuttals with Dave Haskell moderating, a really cool thing happened that kind of swung things in our favor.  Haskell, a former football player from USC back in the 1940’s said to the men in the room “Since you wimps in attendance tonight are being so protective of The Post’s money…I got 100 bucks here out of my own pocket to somehow help these kids…. now,  will any of you ladies be willing to match it?”  He then slammed down a $100.00 bill on the podium. 

There was this one big chubby guy who hadn’t said a word the whole night.  He looked PISSED.  And I was thinking I was the guy he was pissed at.  I was wondering what this guy was gonna say when he finally spoke.  He had a beard and he was a pretty mean-looking dude.  After Haskell’s challenge, his face turned beet red.  He walked straight for the podium (nobody escorted THIS DUDE up there).  He reaches into his pocket…and slams down $200.00!!!!!!!!!!  I found out later that his name was Ken Zuetell.  Zuetell’s move kind of swung things in our favor.  To this day there is only one word I can use to describe Zuetell’s move……..CLUTCH.  Then a guy named Jess Rogers verbally committed to $100.00.

At this point the room was filled with about 30 old guys that were arguing with each other and it was getting LOUD and some of the comments they were making to one another were getting PERSONAL.  Ever the diplomat, Dave Haskell decided to excuse me from the war I had started and to leave them alone while they slugged it out.  He winked at me when I left and I realized that he had kind of taken a liking to me and my idea of having a team.  And I could sense that he wanted to be a part of it behind the scenes.  He said he would call me later that night and let me know how things had turned out.   As I was leaving, I could hear Haskell saying to the group “Gentlemen, I think it’s time for us to put our money where our mouth is.”

Sure enough about 9:30 PM the phone rang.  Haskell had pulled it off !  And he congratulated me as the new coach of Verdugo Hills Post 288.  He said they could commit to “about 1000 dollars”………………I was elated.

Dave Haskell worked behind the scenes with me and taught me how to go in and visit The Post every once in a while…even during the off-season,  and (as he said) “work the crowd.”  He said “I can teach you how to get even more money out of these guys next year”………..and I listened to and followed through with all of his instruction.  And you know what?  He was right.  Everything he told me to do WORKED.

The next season, they gave us $1500.00 .  The next season…..$2000.00.  The final season (1993) they basically gave us a blank check.  I never abused it.  I think the last season we spent about $3000.00 of the Post’s money.  They basically told me before the last season…”get the kids whatever they need.”  And the way I see it, none of it ever would have happened without Haskell, Zuetell, and Rogers slamming down their hard-earned money on that podium that night.  They understood that you guys really wanted to play at that level, and I wanted to prove I could coach at that level, and win at that level. It was beautiful.

After the 1993 season, I was already planning for 1994.  And I had every intention of making ’94 another great season for us.  I think I stopped by in October of ’93 or something and pitched them on the idea that it might be a pretty cool thing for Verdugo Hills Post 288 to have a TEAM BUS.  General had volunteered to do the repairs if needed, and I told the Legionnaires that they might be able to put it to use year-round just kind of making sure the Members of The Post had rides to meetings, etc.  General figured we could pick up a used bus for 12-15k and being the brilliant mechanic General was (and still is) he would have fixed it up with all the bells and whistles.  The guys at The Post loved the winning and the tradition we had created, and they LOVED the idea of having a BUS!!!  I will never forget laughing to myself when I left that meeting….thinking to myself….”these wonderful old guys are gonna buy us a frickin’ BUS!!!!!!!!!!”  And you know what?  They WOULD have done it………..

The problem was………..1994 never happened.  I gave up The Team. 

Can you imagine the uproar we would have caused around the league pulling up to games in a frickin’ TEAM BUS???????????

Yes-sir-ree…………from $1000.00 to a TEAM BUS………not bad, huh?

One of the great things about managing this team for all of those years was the media attention we got.  I guess there just wasn’t a whole hell of a lot going on sports-wise during the summer months so we got coverage from The Los Angeles Times, The Daily News, and The Foothill Leader.  Every time I turned around there was someone calling me, or asking me questions before a game, after a game, and sometimes even DURING games.  It was great to get the exposure for the players.  Legion was a pretty big deal about 20 years ago, yet now if you look in the L.A. Times during the summertime the coverage is literally non-existent. 

We had some great quotations that the newpapers actually printed.  I said some pretty crazy stuff.  Some of you may remember them but if you don’t, I have recently hooked up my scanner here in my office and will be attempting to scan the headlines or quotes or whatever and get them on this blog.  I have told a number of people through the years about some of the stuff I said but I doubt anyone believed me.  Well, ‘Ol Gee just found all of the scorebooks of every game I EVER managed PLUS a huge box of newspaper clippings.  At least I was bright enough to keep all of that stuff.  Now if I can just find that damn video Yves’ mother gave me of miscellaneous highlights of the ENTIRE ’92 season I can embed some cool video footage on this blog as well.  So keep your fingers crossed that I can find it……….

The question I could never answer to the reporters was always asked to me BEFORE the game started.  All of our players would line up in a circle either in left field or right field, depending on which dugout we had that day.  Before they even stretched or played catch they went through this ritual before every game starting in ’92.  While our opponent was on the other side of the field stretching or playing catch….and some dumb-ass coach micro-managing them….our guys were playing this game they invented called “FLIP.”  If a reporter got to the game early, they would always come up to me before the game and chat a little.  This was when I was invariably asked the question “What are they doing out there?”…….

I never really knew what the hell they were doing or what the rules of “FLIP” were.  I was busy going through my OWN pre-game ritual.  So when asked the question “what are they doing out there?”   I would usually answer with “bonding, I guess”……..

I would then tell the reporter that this was indeed a REAL game they were playing with REAL rules and that there was only one winner and everybody else lost.  We would watch the circle of players.  Some guys had their hats on bill in front.  Some guys had the bill turned sideways, some guys were wearing their bills backwards……..and they kept moving their hats into different positions as the game went on.  I didn’t know what the hell the rules were but it was fascinating to watch.  It was also funny to watch who was “eliminated” from the game as it went on…and how they would bitch about being “ganged up on” or someone or a group of guys “cheating” as they dejectedly returned to our dugout.  It seemed that if anyone got “eliminated” from “FLIP”…it was ALWAYS someone’s fault other than their own…….

I never could explain to any reporter what in the hell “FLIP” was.  All I know it that it was a beautiful pre-game ritual.  I could get the field ready and post the lineup and get a lotta stuff done while “FLIP” was happening.  Then the players would magically on their own start playing a little catch and/or stretching as needed.  The guys prepared themselved for our pregame all on their own.  And they were ALWAYS ready to give a great pregame show when it was our turn to take the field.  You know why this happened game after game?  Because there were no egos on this team.  Hell, sometimes you can WIN the game before it even starts with a sharp, crisp pre-game.  I will go on record right here and say ‘FLIP” was the reason there was always a great pre-game and the reason that there was always a certain confidence and calmness about our players that kept them from ever getting too anxious about ANY game or situation.  “FLIP” was a HUGE part of the success of our team(s)……

The problem is……….I still don’t know what the hell “FLIP” is……………..so could someone please explain to me what the hell it is/was in case I am ever asked again?

You know we developed quite a reputation around the league as the greatest raggers to ever play the game.  We would literally say anything to anyone and were quite unapologetic about it all.  Many people have questioned me about it through the years.  People would ask me why I let the guys say all the shit we said.  Well, I always would tell them “I didn’t hear anything……….what did they say?”

It could have been an ump, an opposing coach, it didn’t matter.  That was always my answer.  “I didn’t hear anything….what did they say?” 

“What do you mean you didn’t hear what they said?” they would ask…moving in closer to me, always a little righteously indignant about it all.

“I have a hearing problem” I would then explain…………”You know, just a few years ago I was in a METAL BAND.”

“You were?”

“Oh yeah”………I would say……….”I suffer from this degenerative hearing condition called CHS”………

“Really?” they would ask “What is it?”

“Can’t Hear Shit”………..I would tell them.

That would usually get a smile and get me off the hook.  But the truth of the matter was…………I heard EVERYTHING.  You see, when you play in a band the P.A. System is in FRONT of the band.  The musicians on stage only can hear their normal practice volume.  All of the painful volume is specially reserved for the audience.  So, no…I never suffered from CHS………….and thankfully I didn’t.  Because I had a front-row seat to listen to (in stereo I might add) the greatest rags ever heard in the history of baseball.  But for those of you who may not believe ‘Ol Gee played in a Band……check out the following video footage we just put up on youtube.  Yes-sir-ree that’s ‘ol Gee up there on the left side of the screen with my old band Warrior/Cold Fire.  Enjoy!!!!!!!

The Drummer in this lineup we had here (Nick Menza) went on to join the band MEGADETH after we disbanded and played with them for 10 years.  As some of you know, I’m now a Golf Pro.  People ask me if I’m a “scratch” golfer all the time.  “Yes, I tell them……..and I’m also a scratch bass player, too!!!”

Yep………that was his name ……Harry Leroy Magee.  My Grandfather.  I had to write this story.  He’s the guy.  Blame it on him.  He’s the guy that gave to me the love of the Game of Baseball.  Sure, we all know how great The Game is.  We all love to play it.  But there was no better time when I was a kid and listening to the magical Baseball stories told by my Grandfather (or…..”Grand-Dad” as we called him)  Harry Leroy Magee.   After you listened to him tell Baseball story after Baseball story….you realized that Baseball was more than a game.  Just through his simple words, he brought to life the sights, the sounds, and yes…..even the smells of this Great Game.   And to this day, every time I tell a baseball story, I want to tell ’em just like Harry Leroy Magee told them to me when I was just picking up a baseball for the first time back in the 1960’s.

He was (according to his words) a banjo-hitting, slick-fielding middle infielder who was a switch-hitter and took pride in being able to hit the ball the opposite way from either side of the plate.  You know, one of those “scrappy” players.  He played semi-pro ball.  He played hard-nosed defense.  He went in spikes up to break up double-plays.  He taught me everything about the game he knew.  He gave me every tip in his book to give me the edge on my opponent.  He was the reason I played my whole career as a switch-hitter.  Why?  Because I wanted to be just like Harry Leroy Magee.  He taught me that no matter how hard you get hit by a pitch, you NEVER let the pitcher know it hurt you. 

He tried to push his love for the game on my Dad when my father was growing up.  My Dad just wasn’t really into it.  So they didn’t have that “Father-Son-Baseball” thing going on when my Dad grew up.  I think it created a bit of a rift between them.  Then I was born.  And all I wanted to do was eat, live and breathe baseball.  I think my love for the game actually pulled the two of them closer together.  My dad actually became quite a student of the game, and was probably the best hitting coach I ever had.  The three of us would sit and talk baseball for hours.  And I think that’s what made Harry Leroy Magee so happy late in his life.  He just wanted to enjoy “The Ballgame” with his son.   Just about every summer he would drive out to California from his home in Tulsa, Oklahoma with his wife of over 50 years to visit our family and watch me play baseball.  From the field I could see Grand-dad, My grandmother (who we nicknamed “Ning-Ning”…), and my Dad having a great time taking it all in……….. 

I found this great picture of the three of us and just wanted to share it with you guys.  Three generations all in one shot!  My Dad never really liked to pose for pictures.  He was always the guy TAKING the pictues.  And with his expensive Hasselblad cameras…..he didn’t trust anyone touching them.  So the picture here is indeed some rare footage.  I look at it often.   And when I look at this picture, I cannot help but think of The Game of Baseball.  And I cannot help but think of the great stories told by Harry Leroy Magee.  And I also look at this picture and realize how at the time of that picture…who would have known that the little kid in the stroller was one day going to coach the Greatest Team, with the Greatest Players, who Played in the Greatest Games ever played?  And live to tell the stories RIGHT HERE on this blog? 

I may never tell the stories quite as well as Harry Leroy Magee……and I’m not sure ANYONE could.  But I’m gonna do my best to try!!!! 

We all have stories to tell here.  Please share your memories here.  We’ve all gone our different paths in life.  But we will always have a bond that is held together by the Game of Baseball, the memories, and Verdugo Hills!!!!!!!!!!  I encourage you all to speak out……….Thanks to Hagge, Workman, and Canale for breaking the ice and making some comments here.  Now………..let’s have some fun with this blog, and tell some stories, Harry Leroy Magee style!!!   I’m sure that SOMEWHERE out there ‘Ol Grand-Dad is reading every word………..and smiling!!!!!!!! 

Out in the City of Saugus, California there is a racetrack.  I think they call it the “Saugus Speedway.”  While we were scheduled to play a baseball game in Saugus that day, the game  we played became a mere footnote to a much more monumental event.  An unplanned event of epic proportions.   An event where there was much more at stake than the outcome of a baseball game.  An event where winning was all that mattered.  An event where everyone DECLARED themselves the be the winner, yet no winner was ever officially DECLARED.  An event that to this day (20 years later) is still surrounded by a cloud of controversy.  An event we appropriately named “The Saugus 500.”

It was 1990, our first season, and we were playing a game that hot summer day against a team called Newhall-Saugus.  We had a ritual before every road game.  All of the players and coaches would meet at the same local park in our neighborhood and I would pass out hand-written directions to all of those who were driving.  That day we had about six cars loaded with players and coaches.  One of the kids named “Frost” showed up driving in his step-dad’s Maserati.  He said, “Don’t worry about the directions everybody,  just follow me.”  Like an idiot…I said “okay.”  He then grabbed ALL of the directions I had written out, stuck them in his pocket, hopped in his car and ripped out of the parking lot, leaving us all behind.   

Thanks to Frost, we now had NO directions to the field and he was about a quarter mile down the road.  Going about 60 in a 35.  “Shit!” I said……”Get in your cars and follow his ass!”

People were diving into their cars.  Scrambling!  All I know is that if we lost him, we didn’t know where the hell the field was.  We were a little late as it was, so we all had no choice but to put the pedal to the metal and catch Frost.  Shit I was pissed.  We left a trail of rubber when we left the parking lot.  General was driving.  A couple of the other cars got a little sideways leaving the parking lot.  We ripped to the freeway and we could barely see a speeding car off in the distance that looked like a dot.  I pointed, squinted my eyes and said to General………….”Frost!!!………..get him!!!!”

General did a brilliant job of closing the gap on Frost and all of the other cars were right behind us.  I realized about five miles down the freeway that this was turning into a frickin’ race!!  Everybody was going about 100 mph.  One car would pull up alongside another…the guys in that car would flip-off the guys in the other car.  People were rolling down their windows and yelling shit at each other, making faces and shit.  One of the guys in one car threw something at one of the other cars.  He missed.  Now everybody was laughing.  I hate going fast!!!…..but everybody was determined to win the race.  It was insane!  I asked myself  “What am I doing here?”

Frost knew it was a race now but had a little advantage…he knew where the field was, and he was driving a Maserati.  He signaled to get off at a couple of off-ramps….we got behind him and signaled to get off as well.  Then at the last second he ripped back onto the freeway.  He ‘s toying with us!!  “Fucker!”………I yelled….. “Catch him General!”  Then all of a sudden General says “I think I know where we are…..the field is gonna be on the next off-ramp.”

We had actually pulled ahead of him, then Frost made a crazy move to take the lead as we got off the freeway but he screwed up and got in the wrong lane.  Some of the cars had followed Frost, and some had followed General.  Now we had six cars all stuck at a RED LIGHT….guys flipping each other off….revving their motors.  The chess game began.  Everybody was boxed in.  Frost was ahead of us, but he was in the left lane and pinned in.   We were in the right lane.  Somebody had to make a move.  We had JUST enough room to make something happen.  I said “Do it Gen”………..laughing all the way General drove right up the curb and onto the sidewalk,  just missing a bus bench by less than a foot and a light pole by the same margin.  We had made a clean right turn and escaped the traffic-jam!  We rolled down our windows and started waving goodbye to all the losers that were stuck at that red light!  We saw their faces…they were pissed!  

One of the players in our car yelled “There it is!”   The field was in sight.  General gunned it and we were the first to enter the parking lot.  Then we looked behind….”Oh Shit…it’s Frost!…here he comes!”  And he was bringing it in that Maserati.  And the cars behind Frost were right on him.  Bad news.  The parking lot was totally DIRT!!!  Every car came flying into that parking lot!!  Dust was flying  everywhere….cars were driving in circles , doing brodies.  It looked like a mushroom cloud.  General brought it to a stop.  I got out and quickly drew a line in the dirt behind us.  All of the cars came to skidding halts.  Half a mile away it probably looked like a fire had started.   

“We won!” I yelled.

“Bullshit” said the guys from one of the other cars.

I pointed to the line I had drawn in the dirt.  Smiling, I said “we crossed the finish line!….we win!!!”

“Bullshit!!” another group of guys said..”we saw you draw that line!”

“Bullshit that line was already there”………I said.

“No way!!!” said some of the guys from another car.

Everybody was yelling at each other at this point.   I yelled “Allright quit fucking around we got a game to play….and me and The General won!  And Frost what the hell are you thinking!?!?!?”

We all started getting our gear out of the cars.  Everybody was silent for about a minute.  Then as we’re all walking towards the field Hank pipes up “That’s bullshit driving up the sidewalk General!”

Now everybody started arguing again.  Everybody was saying that they won now.  We didn’t know how to get onto the field.  Gates were locked.  It was starting to get a little heated.  Each driver of each car was telling everybody else why THEY had won the race.  Hank started saying “we’ve done it….we’ve won the Saugus 500!”  We all got ready to hop the left field fence to get onto the field.  This was no chain link fence. It was solid wood, we couldn’t see what was on the other side. Guys were throwing their bags and equipment over the fence.  We all scaled it pretty fast.  By the time we got over the fence and onto the field there was just one problem:  Our opponents were all sitting in left field with their coaches going through stretching exercises.  Half the shit we had thrown over the fence almost hit one of their players or coaches.

We didn’t care.  We just kept on arguing about who had won “The Saugus 500.”   We didn’t even acknowledge their presence.  We just grabbed our stuff off the ground and walked right through their stretching-session and continued over to our dugout arguing all the way. While I kind of wondered what the boys from Newhall-Saugus were thinking at this point…..the beauty of it was I DIDN’T CARE.

……….to be continued