Another Great Season at Shehee Stadium

Another Centenary baseball season is in the books for us (we don't usually travel to the SCAC tournament which this year is somewhere in Texas.)

This year Centenary finished atop the SCAC standings with a 15-3 record, just ahead of Trinity at 14-4.  A lot of the games were away games this year, it seemed, and the ones early in the season that were at home were often cold and rainy, so we didn't make as many games this year as we usually do.  But when we are there, well, it's just good baseball.

It's been about four years since I did a post about the program; we've seen these boys start as freshmen, grow and develop their game, and move on.  It's our own little version of the Durham Bulls!  The atmosphere is like family and over the years we've developed friendships with faculty, coaches, parents, and other locals that just come out in support.

Each team in the conference has a sort of reputation too: some are better sports than others, some are hostile to referees, some are as nice as they can be and invite you to visit their city.

But always it is just good fun.  We've had some really memorable times!  And we've seen some really standout players.

One of the standouts this year was senior Chris Zapata who is an outstanding catcher and a real power hitter.  As pitcher, and first-baseman, Cole Lavergne was really exciting to watch; he threw some truly wicked pitches in the game today.

It is universally true in baseball that each pitcher and each batter has his own stance and his own quirks.  There's the batter that always crosses the plate with his bat, or the one that stands just outside the box, then charges into it and takes his stance when he's ready; there's the pitcher that prowls around the mound like a caged tiger, scratching the dirt with his cleats, and the one that deeply arches his back and stares over his glove before he throws.  They are all unique and entirely wonderful to watch.

But of course, it takes an entire team to produce a winning record like the Gents have done.

The parents are always great team boosters and at every home game can be seen boiling crawfish, frying fish, or grilling burgers, ready to feed the hungry players after the last pitch.  Then there is Coach in the concession stand fixing up delicious Nathan's hot dogs or serving roasted peanuts; it just wouldn't be a game without that!

One of the joys of these games to me is seeing the children who come out: sweaty little boys with their baseball gloves thundering down the stands, running at breakneck speed to retrieve foul balls.  The boys look with such admiration at the grown players and you can just see the dreams in their eyes.

Of course, the players can act like kids too - because really they still are; they're just about to launch into adulthood and are hanging on to this boys game for all it's worth.  I watch the dugout as much as I watch the game because the players are always cheering each other on, yelling, singing, waving their arms, jumping around to the music playing over the PA, doing all kinds of crazy things.  They are having a blast, which is the pure joy of baseball.

Cheering on teammates returning from the outfield

And the dogs: oh my are there dogs.  At any game you can count on seeing four or five dogs from tiny Yorkies to full grown Labs.

The best part?  It's free.  So when someone comes and sits down in front of you in the fifth inning, and pops their umbrella...

There goes my view of home plate.

...you can just move.

Yes, this season is done at Shehee Stadium but next year will come soon enough.  Until then, there's this video of the final out today and the celebration after.  You can see Cole Lavergne on the mound and the fans stand up, applauding, to cheer him on...



God I love this game!  And I love you, Centenary Gents!  Thanks for another great season, and good luck in the tournament!

Can Shreveport Attract Independent Baseball?

Postcard photo by Neil Johnson of Fair Grounds Field

I've got baseball fever.  Spring is coming; I can almost see it from here, and spring means baseball.

Shreveport does not have a professional baseball team; no minor league team, no independent team.

We had the Shreveport Captains, the Shreveport Sports, and  the Swamp Dragons, among others.  Now we have nothing. Our taxpayer-funded, once beautiful baseball stadium sits as an example of urban decay at the Shreveport fairgrounds serving primarily as a home for the city's bats (and I don't mean baseball bats.)  The stadium opened in 1986 and the last baseball game there was in 2011.

It is a crying shame.

In 2015, KTBS reported that the City of Shreveport still spends $200,000 per year to maintain the facility:

It costs $200,000 to maintain it but this isn't money the city is actually spending on the park. They're using staff and supplies from neighboring Independence Stadium to walk over and do things like maintain the exterior and power wash to keep down the smell of the poisonous bat droppings.

Now the field is covered in weeds and trash. SkyPixel has several drone photos of the park from 2015 which show an overgrown field, broken seats, broken windows in the press box, and with home plate and the pitcher's mound still covered as if someone is actually coming back to play.

In recent years there has been talk of demolishing the stadium which would cost about $450,000.  On the other hand, there are people in this community who would like to save Fair Grounds field and offer, if not professional baseball, something else there for people to enjoy.  There is a Facebook page, Rescue Fair Grounds Field, with over 500 followers, but nothing has happened.

In Shreveport we can still see baseball at the college level.  Both LSUS and Centenary have excellent teams and our community colleges also have baseball.  The Centenary field is within walking distance from our house and I can hear batting practice from my front yard. There is no sweeter sound.  We regularly attend those games and it is great fun!  Wouldn't it be fabulous if the baseball community came out to watch, too?  We sit among parents of the student players mostly.  There is little community support, although there is some.

There is no charge to get into a Centenary baseball game: it is free.

There is something about the game of baseball that is just magic to me.  I don't understand all of it and I'm not a lifelong student of baseball although I have always enjoyed watching it.

When we go to the Centenary games, I love sitting in the warm spring sun, getting that first blush of tan on my winter skin, listening to the songs on the PA system, the walk-up songs, the chatter and laughter of the parents around us.  Most of the time there are parents in the parking lot boiling crawfish or getting some BBQ feast ready for after the game and the scent infuses the air around us. I'll get some hot roasted peanuts and a coke, prop my feet up on the rail in front of me and get lost in the game before me.  The antics of the boys in the dugout are always hysterical; I love their camaraderie and love for each other and the game.  It's all-American.  There is nothing better.

I recently watched The Battered Bastards of Baseball on Netflix.  It's a 2014 documentary about the independent Portland Mavericks who played for five seasons under owner Bing Russell.  Narrated by his son (and former player himself) Kurt Russell, the film is a hilarious and nostalgic romp through the life of this team.:

Built around speed and reckless play, the Mavericks were initially looked upon as a joke - until Mavericks pitcher Gene Lanthorn threw a no-hitter in the team’s first game, and it was off to the races. The Mavericks proceeded to clobber their competition and set attendance records, becoming overnight media sensations covered by NBC, Sports Illustrated - even The New Yorker.  

 With a roster of ragamuffin players culled from open, public tryouts, the Mavericks shocked the baseball world in 1977 by achieving the highest winning percentage of any team at any level of the game (.667). The Mavericks became the team nobody wanted to play - a cocky, hard-partying Wild Bunch that regularly whipped squads boasting future major leaguers like Ozzie Smith, Dave Henderson, Dave Stewart or Mike Scioscia.

All that's missing is Annie Savoy.

But the documentary also makes one painfully nostalgic for local baseball.  One point the film makes is that the fans knew the players and the players were part of the community.  There is archival footage of the players in uniform sitting among the fans during the game. The locals supported the team in record breaking numbers. When corporate baseball came and forced the team out, attendance dropped like a rock.

So baseball comes and goes within a community.  It's a business -- a big business these days with million dollar contracts and personalities.  The price of a professional baseball ticket can set you back some serious change, but whenever we go to Des Moines we always go see an Iowa Cubs baseball game which is excellent baseball and costs a fraction of what you'd pay to see the Chicago Cubs, for example.

Is Shreveport a sports town?  Is it a "baseball town"?  We have hockey, rugby, soccer, even roller derby.  Will this town support minor league baseball? 

In 2016 a new independent league was announced: the Southwest League, which will include Louisiana.  They will reportedly begin playing in 2019 with six teams in Texas with growth expected in coming years. 

Could we tempt them to come to Shreveport?  Do we have anyone with the cash backing to lure them here?

Baseball started in Shreveport in 1872 and existed under various teams and leagues until 2011.  Isn't it time to bring it back?

What is stopping us?



Related:
Roy Lang:  Fair Grounds Field turns 30 Today (April, 2016)
What's to Become of Fair Grounds Field?  (KTBS, 2015)
Cal Ripkin, Sr.  Foundation
LSUS Baseball Schedule - 2018
Centenary Baseball Schedule - 2018
For the Love of the Game: Talking with Kurt Russell about The Battered Bastards of Baseball
The Southwest Baseball League

Mavericks!

Beer?
     Check.

Mavs t-shirt?
     Check.

HD TV set and ready?
     Check.

I don't want to jinx anything but I'm pulling for the Mavs! 

Especially after this.  Childish.

Go Mavs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The City of Byrd

From the KTBS website:

"A group of Byrd High students rented two billboards to encourage school spirit and support their football team.

They bought the billboards at the corner of East Kings and E. 70th street near Lee Hedges stadium where Byrd plays it's home games.

Caddo school board officials say they received a call from Captain Shreve's principal saying she did not like where the billboards were, a block from Captain Shreve. They were taken down Friday morning."

How absurd. How childish, Captain Shreve. Seriously.

Goodbye to Yankee Stadium

I sort of wanted to watch the Emmys last night but could not tear myself away from the final game at Yankee Stadium. The opening festivites (pictured) were just fabulous. Many of the old players were back (Whitey Ford, Reggie Jackson, etc.) and family members represented those that were no longer with us. The old players wore the same version of the uniform they wore when they were playing. The United States Army Field Band played the Star Spangled Banner which was fabulous. As the old players were announced they ran out and took their old positions on the field. Willie Randolph ran out and slid into second base, grinning and reveling in the dirt on his uniform.

I love the spirit of baseball; I always thought it just looked fun -- looked like a bunch of big kids out there having a good time. The dugout was so crowded with old-timers last night that some of the younger ones were sitting on top of the dugout swinging their legs.

It was a fun night but bittersweet, too. When the game was over and the Yankees had avoided post-season elimination one more time by winning 7-3, the Yankees gathered on the field for last photos. Some scooped up some dirt from the pitcher's mound and put into bags or cups for saving. Many fans had tears in their eyes and were reluctant to leave. Derek Jeter made an eloquent statement and the Yankees then took their caps off to the fans and made a lap around the stadium to salute them while Sinatra's "New York, New York" played in an endless loop.

The thing that really struck me, though, was the absence of Joe Torre; he didn't even merit a mention which was just shocking to me. After four World Series titles and twelve playoff appearances, I thought Torre should at least get a nod.

All in all it was very moving and I'm hoping that the new Yankee stadium brings lots of new and wonderful memories!

(Photo credit: Chang W. Lee/The New York Times)

The O. J. Simpson Trial

Is anybody paying attention to the O. J. Simpson trial? Well, Dominick Dunne is, but is anybody else? This time O. J. is on trial in Las Vegas for armed robbery and kidnapping and the trial centers around sports memorabilia he says was taken from him.

The last O. J. trial was in 1997 (stemming from the 1995 murder of his wife and Ron Goldman) and was all anybody was talking about at the time. I had taken time off from working full time to finish up my last two years of college, so I was pretty much free during a lot of the day to watch the trial. And I watched every single minute of it, even the monotonous DNA testimony that was so boring it made you want to stick hot needles in your eyes. What a media frenzy that trial was! Prosecutor Marcia Clark was scrutinized relentlessly for her hair, her make-up, the mole on her face, her personal life, etc. Remember Judge Lance Ito? He got it too, lampooned on the late-night talk shows. Mark Furhman became a celebrity as did Kato Kaelin, the infamous house guest.

When the verdict finally came, I was working at an attorney's office, waiting on a teaching job. Oh but what a great place to work during the O. J. trial! There were four lawyers in the office and two paralegals; we had grand conversations over O. J.'s guilt or innocence. It seemed so obvious that he was guilty. So obvious. But the overhanging question was always "But did Marcia PROVE it beyond a reasonable doubt?!?" And the debates went on. We called her "Marcia" as if we knew her personally; the trial was broadcast live on television, all day long. Every day.

When the verdict finally came, the nation waited on pins and needles. Everyone was interested. At the law office we all gathered in the conference room where the television was. Everyone just stood around the table waiting, silently as Ito read the verdict. We tried to guess what it was by his expression. The verdict was read, "Not guilty" and everyone moaned with disbelief. And then life went on.

We went back to work. O. J. vowed to spend "the rest of his life" looking for his wife's killer. People say that unless the killer is on a golf course, O. J. won't find him. Dominick Dunne says that O. J. has finally realized "how wrecked his life is" and that there is a sense of sadness about him.

It seems nobody is really interested in O. J.'s trial. Dominick Dunne is there as he was for every moment of the last one. Marcia Clark has requested a press pass but has not yet attended. Twitter is microblogging it for the Las Vegas Sun, posting updates every three or four minutes! Lots of folks, I guess, are hoping that O. J. gets convicted this time because he got off last time. Our system is not supposed to work like that, but you never know about juries. He was convicted in the civil suit filed by the Goldmans and will likely never pay the settlement that was awarded the Goldmans. I wonder if they are watching.

(Image credit: New York Times; Pool photo by John Locher)

The Boys of Summer Are Losing Their House

The House That Ruth Built is about to fall. This is the saddest weekend in sports, to me. This Sunday night will be the last game in Yankee Stadium. Forever. They are going to tear it down.

The legendary stadium opened in April, 1923.

It is where Babe Ruth hit his 60th home run in 1927.
Roger Maris hit his 61st home run in 1961.
A-Rod hit his 500th in 2007.
Mickey Mantle hit the right-field facade in 1963, one hundred and ten feet above the field.
Reggie Jackson hit three home runs there in Game 6 of the 1977 World Series.
Don Larson pitched a perfect Game 5 of the 1956 World Series.
And it is where Lou Gehrig gave his "luckiest man" speech in 1939.
It is where Babe Ruth gave his farewell address.
Derek Jeter, on Tuesday, passed Gehrig for the most hits in Yankee stadium.
There have been 100 World Series games played there. Not this year.

It is so sad to me that it will be gone; it's such a piece of American legend! They are tearing it down and replacing it with a park with three baseball fields (will bricks show up on ebay?). Trees will outline the old ballpark. The new digs will be across the street.

I can't imagine the emotions that will flood the fans and players on Sunday. There will be a formal fan goodbye ceremony in November, but oh to be there the last night...

Tommy Bolt

I read today that Tommy Bolt died. This is sad to me and I never met him; on top of that, he lived a long, full life. Tommy Bolt was a great golfer and when I was growing up, Golf, (yes, with a capital "G" was always on.) I come from a LONG line of golfers even though I never played. My grandfather, father, and brother played, all very well. In fact, Dad even beat Tommy once in a local tournament.

Tommy Bolt, as my Dad used to tell it, could have been a much greater golfer than he was and he was pretty damn good! But, oh the legendary temper. Bolt was known for throwing clubs; in fact, he slung one in Texarkana that my mom had to duck. My Dad knew Tommy Bolt; Bolt moved to Shreveport when he was 6. As my mom tells the story, times were hard and Tommy's family lived "over the river" in Bossier; he was a little self-conscious about his family's economic status and one night after hanging out (drinking!), my Dad was driving him home. Tommy had Dad drop him at the Shreveport foot of the bridge so he could walk home from there rather than have Dad see where he lived.

Another Bolt story is that Tommy had to play in a big local tournament. He did not have any clubs; because of his bad temper he had either wrapped his clubs around a tree or thrown them into the pond, I can't remember. But he had no clubs for the tournament, so he asked Dad if he could borrow his. Dad was really nervous about it because he didn't want Tommy to lose his temper and throw HIS clubs in the pond. But he loaned them to Bolt and all went well; Bolt even won the tournament and began a come back from a long, dry spell. Dad always took a sort of silent credit for Bolt's success!

I hope Dad and Tommy are up there at the 19th hole reliving the old days.

(Photo credit: AP)

Opening Day!

LSU opens its season today against Appalachian State. The 4pm game was moved to 10 a.m. because of incoming Hurricane Gustav, and will be broadcast on ESPN Classic.

I love LSU football and come from a long tradition of LSU football lovers. My dad never missed it. I did not actually go to an LSU game until I was grown; I think I was about 26 or so, but I'll NEVER, EVER forget the first time I walked into Death Valley. There are almost no words for that first experience. The whole experience was fantastic: the crowds, the smells of the food being prepeared by the tailgaters, the friendly, jovial, intoxicating atmosphere. The band marching through the streets to the stadium was thrilling. The stadium itself reminding me of the Roman Coliseum; inside, the crowds moving like cattle to their seats. But then, coming through the little tunnel from underneath the seats INTO the stadium absolutely took my breath away. That first sighting of the field - a huge expanse of brilliant green grass, the brilliant lights, the band on the field in performance, and the crowds. OMG the crowds. Every single seat was filled and everyone was moving and yelling and wearing purple and gold. For a newbie, a novice, it was quite breath-taking. And I was hooked. So I'm putting out my LSU flag today, maybe making some gumbo, (even though it is 95 degrees today) and getting ready for some football!