Field Of Dreams
is on – maybe it was already on the schedule being that it is the end the “summer”
but likely it’s a tribute to James Earl Jones. Of course Jones’ soliloquy on
baseball stands as one of the truest statements on America’s yen for nostalgia
and simpler times even as we tear down our grandfather’s life’s work to build
Mc Mansions and freeways.
If I was in those bleachers
in Field Of Dreams, my seats would be the bleachers on the first base
side at Watt Powell Park. It’s Charleston West [by God] Virginia circa 1976. The
AAA [International League] Charleston Charlies are hosting their major league
sponsor, my beloved Pittsburgh Pirates.
We got to see some
future major league talent roll through Charleston. The 76 team had pitchers Ken
Macha and Doug Bair, shortstop Craig Reynolds, catcher Steve Nicosa and
outfielders Miguel Dilone and Tony Armas. Pitchers John Candelaria and Kent
Tekulve and outfielder Omar Moreno had been with the Charlies in ’75 and were
now with the big club. Going from a big astroturf collusion like Three Rivers
Stadium to the rinky dink confines of Watt Powell with the B&O just beyond
the outfield and the mountain as a backdrop must have been quite a change. But
it’s only one game and it’s only half an hour by plane or maybe six on the bus
back to Three Rivers.
The Bucs were
chasing down the wrong end of the state Phillies for the NL East title – they would
ultimately end up 9 games back of the Steve Carlton, Larry Bowa, Greg Luzinski
and Mike Schmidt led Phils who lost the pennant to [ugh!] Cincinnati’s Big Red
Machine. The Reds would sweep the Phillies in the NLCS and the Yankees in the
Series to complete the only perfect post season in the League Championship era.
But back to the game.
Me and Dad are on the wooden bleachers, maybe second row. And I’m seeing my heroes
– Willie Stargell, Dave Parker, Frank Tavares, Al Oliver playing in our little
burg! Of course I have my glove and we almost caught a foul ball off 2nd
baseman Rennie Stennett bat – it hit the guy just to our right and he managed
to hang on to it. And I wandered down to the bullpen and got Larry Demery to
sign his baseball card.
I don’t remember
much else, which is why I’d like to go back. Any box score I had would have
been erased and erased as I needed scorecards for dice baseball [NOT Strat-O-Matic,
just a simple two dice game me and my cousin Hal would play]. Always the Reds versus
the Pirates. Always. I knew those two line ups cold.
I didn’t know it
then but the Pirates would end their affiliation with the Charlies that winter.
Shortly after the opening of the 1977 season, we moved to Arlington, TX anyway.
American League baseball? Well, it’s the only game in town. And those late 70s
/ early 80s Rangers teams were colorful and entertaining to say the least. Bump
Wills, Toby Harrah, Jim Sundberg. A couple familiar names - centerfielder Al “Scoops”
Oliver and pitcher Dock Ellis came to town for a spell. Evenings on metal bleachers
that had been baking all day in the Texas sun? Yes, please! On the other hand
we got to see other great players of the era – George Brett and the Royals, Reggie
Jackson with both the Yankees and the Angels.
But one night – to be 9 years old again. The smell of the hot dogs and popcorn, the feel of the well-worn wooden bleachers with no backs, me and my dad just enjoying a game. Yeah, I could do that
“The one constant
through all the years, Ray, has been baseball.
“America has rolled by like an army of
steamrollers. It's been erased like a blackboard, rebuilt, and erased again.
But baseball has marked the time.
“This field, this
game -- it's a part of our past, Ray. It reminds us of all that once was good,
and it could be again.
“People will come,
Ray. People will most definitely come.”
Amen.

