2nd Inning: Sandlot Baseball

(The photo is from one of Matthew's early Y-League teams)

My youngest brother Mark was born in 1964 right before we moved from Riverton to Lebanon. With five boys in our family I would joke about there being enough of us to have our own basketball team. Remember though, we are a baseball family.

"Baseball game at Eidson field in fifteen minutes!" Keller field needs to be mowed and the Montgomery's aren't home. So today's game will be played at Eidson field.

All the kids who lived in our neighborhood on Keller Drive had a yard that doubled as some kind of ball field. Our yard had a basketball goal in the back and enough room in the front yard to serve as a small football field. John Wright also had a basketball goal and a long narrow yard far enough away from his house to serve as a driving range when we got our few golf clubs. The Montgomery's had a big field. However, small trees planted in strategic places made it difficult to play any kind of ball game.

Mr. Keller lived next to a vacant lot that was the biggest field in the neighborhood but it also took the most work to mow. We kept the infield playable but the outfield was too big for any of us to mow with our push mowers. Sometimes we could keep short right field manageable but left field always kept our baseballs. Even if a riding mower was ever available the field was more in need of a brush hog. Too bad, because right field bordered the V.F.W. post and had a hedge of bushes that made a perfect home run fence.

Eidson field was our favorite. It had the best conditions of all the baseball fields in our neighborhood. The yard was well mowed and the whole outfield bordered the V.F.W. bushes. Center field was the shortest distance for a home run. Houses on either side of the field were well in foul territory and only had a few small windows. To keep the ball from going into the street we constructed a portable backstop transferable between Keller and Eidson field. It also served as a "catcher" when our teams were well short of nine players.

Baseball games in the neighborhood were always announced along with the name of the field. If you missed the initial call you could always look out your front door and see where the game was being played. Kids who played in the neighborhood games at one time or another were John and Dan Wright, Mike and Gene Eidson, Charlie Halter, Glenn and Steve Montgomery, my brothers Gregg, Gary Scott, Mark and myself. There was also Leland Wright and his older sister Donna who played. She had the unfortunate luck of having the family nickname "Heifer-lou" Sometimes adults would play field positions for both teams and visiting friends were always welcome to play.

As each player arrived they called out the position they wanted to play by calling the name of the famous ball player they would be for the game. Since we were St. Louis Cardinal fans we would usually call to be a Cardinal player. So, if you wanted to play third base you would say, "I'm Ken Boyer" or in order to play first base you would call out, "I"m Orlando Cepeda!" Sometimes we would call players of some other team, but they had to be an All-Star caliber player like Pete Rose, Johnny Bench or Roberto Clemente. In addition to calling "dibs" on your position by naming a player, you gave your team an added advantage. By invoking the name of a famous player your batting average and teams chances of winning increased. It was almost like saying, "God is on our side", therefore we are assured of victory.

The player we would name changed depending on what position we wanted to play that day. Except for my brother Mark. He always wanted to play shortstop and wanted to be Julian Javier. He was one of the youngest in the neighborhood and it was all he could do to play shortstop, let alone say "Whoolian Ha-vee-air" My Dad used to get tickled when Mark would run out on to Eidson field, falling all over himself while hollering, "I'm Whoolian Ha-vee-air!"

Well the name Julian Javier stuck with my brother Mark. Dad nicknamed him "Julio" and later shortened it to "Who". He gave Mark a shirt with the name "WHO" lettered on the back. The nickname stayed with him through school and league sports. Family friends even came to call Mark, "WHO".

I wonder if anyone in Lebanon would still walk into Central Bank today and ask, "How are you WHO?" -30-