I was a catcher.

I became a catcher while in little league under somewhat stressful circumstances. Our town had Official Little League Baseball set up with A, AA, AAA, and “Majors” for children 12 and under.  At age 11, I missed the tryouts and did not get to move up to the “Majors.”  I was playing very well in AAA that year.  At the end of April, a Majors team coach called with an invitation to move up. Before my first game I was sitting alone on the bench, a little nervous and not sure what to do. The coach walked up to me, leaned on the bench with his hands placed on either side of my head and, with cigarette smoke trailing dragon-like from his nostrils, asked, “You ever catch before?”

“No” I squeaked out. I had been a pitcher and a third baseman.

He rose with his cigarette in one hand and a protective cup in the other hand and said, “Well, you’re catching tonight. Run over to the woods and stick this in your pants.”

He tossed a protective cup to me. I have brothers who are seven and eleven years older than me and they had participated in sports at various levels. So I knew what a cup was and I knew a holder (jock strap) was supposed to come with it. But the coach wasn't offering me a jock strap. Flustered and wanting to comply, I ran over to the woods and shoved it in my pants.  I adjusted it until it fit in my underwear.

I was a catcher.

My short baseball career had its ups and downs. I had a great deal of success as a little leaguer and pony leaguer - - and then a lot of fun playing high school ball.  In the spring of 1974 at Madison (New Jersey) High School, I made the varsity squad.  Several games into the year we played a conference rival, Summit High School. They had a future Major League Baseball star on their team named Willie Wilson. Wilson had a long career in professional baseball which included a batting title and a couple of stolen base titles:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Willie_Wilson_(baseball)

In study hall on the afternoon of the game, our starting pitcher Norman Dow and I discussed pitch selection and strategized about minimizing the havoc Wilson would cause.  Wilson, a switch hitter, would be batting right handed against Norman, a southpaw. We decided to start Wilson off with a curve ball.  

I remember warming up for the game. A passel of scouts followed Wilson around all year.  It’s safe to say I wasn’t the only one hoping they would notice someone besides Wilson.  As the Summit team took the field for warm-ups, all eyes were on Wilson - who was also a catcher.  As he threw the ball to second base, it cut a straight line starting at his hand and ending at the bag. The reality of how good he was began to sink in, and we realized the scouts had no reason to look anywhere else.  By game time a light drizzle had started.  It was a home game – so we took the field first.  Norman retired the first two batters. Then Willie Wilson stepped up to the plate, dug in, and then stepped back to take the signals from the third base coach.  As he stepped back into the batter’s box, he looked down at me and said, “This ain’t no weather to play baseball in!”

I looked up at him, earnest and wide-eyed. All I could think to say was, “No, it’s not.”

I smiled at Wilson and turned my attention to Norman.  I called for the curve ball we had agreed upon in study hall just a few hours earlier.  Norman’s delivery was as smooth; he was even-paced with a fluid motion that is called Sneaky Fast.  He had a slow wind up that exploded as he pressed off the rubber.  In an instant the curve ball was arching toward home plate.

I had seen a fair amount of long balls hit over the years.  From behind the plate, a catcher instinctively knows, at the moment the ball is hit, where it’s going and how far it’s going.  In most cases a catcher will point in the air and start to yell to his outfielders, “Back!” or “Come in!”  

There was nothing to say this time; I just stood and watched.

In straight away centerfield a sign reading “350 FT” hung on the fence. In my estimation when the ball cleared the centerfield fence, it was still rising.  Wilson was watching too.  I wondered at that moment if this man-child ever surprised himself.  By far, it was the hardest-hit ball I had ever seen – and it went further than any ball I’d ever seen hit.  I briefly noticed Norman on the mound with his glove over his mouth just gaping at the distance the ball was traveling.  Our centerfielder, a red-headed speedster named Dave Bell, barely had time to turn, and gave faint chase to the ball.  It was over and done that fast.

As Wilson circled the bases and stepped on home plate I walked out to the mound to comfort Norman. What can you say in response to a ball hit that hard and that far?  Norman would be facing Wilson at least two more times in the game and needed to know that I had not lost confidence in him. I noticed the other infield players smiling in awe, amazed at what they had witnessed. When I got to the mound, Norman just made a moaning sound.  I told him not to worry - it was just one run. 

Norman would redeem himself.  We were down 1-0 in the top of the 3rd and Wilson came to bat with the bases loaded and two outs. Norman had a full count on Wilson and then threw one of his Sneaky Fast fastballs on the outside corner to catch Wilson looking, a “backwards K.” We went on to score three runs in the bottom of the seventh inning to win the game.  I was happy for Norman.  I’d like to think the confidence I displayed in the first inning helped a little in the third. But that’s not what I remember about that day. What I remember most is Wilson’s towering home run, a ball hit with a ferocity I would never see again.

Wilson made it to the “Bigs” a couple of years later and I followed his baseball career with interest and enthusiasm.  I went off to college and became an accountant. 

I hope Willie is as happy as I am. 

I remembered this game over the years a little more dramatically.  I thought we struck out Wilson in the 7th inning, but I checked some other clippings that Mom saved and I see it was earlier in the game.  Takes nothing away from what Norman accomplished - he took out Wilson with a great pitch in a crucial moment.