My guess is that the score was 23-0 with the Giants on the short end. Given the Norman Rockwell feel to the image and the expressions of the youngsters and their coach in the background, you have to believe the only antidote to this defeat would be a post-game hot dog and root beer at the local Stewarts' Hot Dog drive-in.
This image was actually captured by my Dad back in 1955, enhanced by the bells and whistles of Photoshop. The individuals were teammates of my brother Pete who's role on that team was to deliver the ball from the mound.
Little League has always provided a fertile ground for imitating heroes and nurturing future dreams...mine was to be the next Mickey Mantle, my brother's intent was to be Pete Kee. He carried the confidence and swagger to support the results he delivered. His pitching skills dominated Little League and the succeeding leagues there after. His high school play drew the attention of major league scouts representing the Chicago White Sox, Milwaukee Braves and Los Angeles Dodgers. As fate would have it, a knee injury sustained while running sprints in the outfield days prior to accepting an offer vanished all interest by the clubs. Myself, having been exposed to the attitude and skills displayed in the majors, feel to this day I have no doubt my brother would have left his signature in the game at a big league level.
Growing up in New Jersey our Little League system was a grassroots, community-oriented program that was available for any kid that wanted to participate. Fortunately for those rules, despite my lack of talent for the game I was handed a uniform. Even though I was always the last one that my teammates would like to see at bat in a crucial moment I still took away from those years a lifetime of great memories. Because in the end...it was all just about fun. Whether we lost or won we couldn't wait for the next game in order to kick up some dust.
A few years ago while visiting my home town I couldn't resist a trip back to the old ball field. Even though it was in the winter, I felt the need to walk out to the pitcher's rubber, same mound, same field that Pete once owned. Although that root beer stand is long gone, whether it's year '55 or '05 ...it can't get any better than that.
2 comments:
What a well written blog! I can almost feel what it was like to experience little league. You are getting very good at this....so when is your book coming out? Are these blogs like stepping stones?
Long live the "Three Fields " on Van Buren St and all those great memories that go with it.
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