Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

Happy Father’s Day 2010!

June 20, 2010

Dad and Me - A Long Time Ago.

Because of you, Dad, … I got to grow up feeling safe and valued. … I had someone to teach me baseball from the time I could hold a ball in my hand. … I learned that I could reach pretty much any goal within my talent range that I was fully  willing to work for —  and that there were no free rides on the road to happy destiny. …. Because of you, because of your down-to-earth everyday example, I also had it affirmed for me that it is better to be kind and loving with people  than cruel and exploitative in my relations with others. …  even, and maybe even especially, when I’m fighting hard for something I believe in.

And thanks more than anything for helping me make my peace with the fact that no one in this world is perfect and that it is better to try to learn from our mistakes than it is to try to play the game of life as though mistakes were not possible.

In baseball parlance, none of us are going to catch all of the balls that are hit our way in life. The goal is to learn from the physical and mental errors we make for the sake of cutting some out and others way down on our list of things we do. Life is like a journey on Houston’s worst streets in the East End. We don’t start missing the potholes until we’ve first hit and felt a few as drivers.

On the 7th of July, it will be sixteen years since we said goodbye, Dad. Had you lived, you would he beaded toward your 100th birthday on December 23rd.

Just wanted you to know that I still miss you, but that I’m also grateful to God for the dad he gave me. You came with more gifts of wisdom by example than I could ever totally list or thank you for. Please know that I’m hanging in there, still working hard into my latter years at being the best true version of me that I can be. For me, the job of self-learning is a humbling experience. As for you – you will always be my biggest hero. That role of you in my life never changes. It just gets celebrated with greater clarity every year when Father’s Day again rolls around.

LA UNFITNESS

June 19, 2010

ONCE UPON A TME, THE CITIZENS OF LA GATHERED TOGETHER ON THE STREETS LATE AT NIGHT TO SHOW HOW HAPPY THEY WERE THAT THEIR NBA LAKERS CLUB HAD JUST WON ITS 16TH WORLD BASKETBALL CHAMPIONSHIP.

SOME OF THE CELEBRATING LAKER FANS THOUGHT IT WOULD BE A GOOD IDEA TO START THE PARTY BY SETTING A BOSTON CELTICS JERSEY ON FIRE.

OTHER LAKER FANS THOUGHT THAT TURNING CARS OVER IN THE STREET WAS AN EVEN MORE FUN IDEA.

OTHER LAKER FANS DECIDED TO MAKE IT A LAID-BACK "CASUAL DRESS" NIGHT FOR CRUISING THE STREETS AND SHOWING OFF THEIR TEAM GEAR. NOT ALL OF THE FANS WHO CHOSE THIS ROUTE OF CELEBRATION WERE SHOT - AT LEAST, NOT SHOT DEAD.

OF COURSE, MANY COULD NOT RESIST SETTING UP THE "HUMAN PNATA" GAME IN THE STREETS - IN SPITE OF THE FACT THAT IT WAS NOT A SATURDAY AND THAT MOST PARTICIPANTS, INCLUDING THE PINATA, HAD TO GO TO WORK THE NEXT DAY.

PEOPLE ATTEMPTING TO DRIVE THROUGH THE DOWNTOWN PARTY AREA QUICKLY LEARNED THAT A NEW POLICY HAD BEEN PUT IN PLACE BY THE LOCALS: NO CAR WAS ALLOWED TO PASS UNTIL THEY HAD ACCEPTED THE INSTALLATION OF A "HOOD ON THE HOOD" OF THEIR VEHICLE.

THE PENALTY FOR DRIVERS WHO REFUSED THE "HOOD ON THE HOOD" IDEA WAS STRAIGHTFORWARD AND SIMPLE. THEY GOT THEIR CARS ROLLED OVER AND SET ON FIRE WHILE THEY WERE STILL BEHIND THE WHEEL.

LA FANS WERE HAVING SO MUCH FUN THAT AN LA COP FINALLY SHOWED UP TO LOOK INTO THE ROOT CAUSES OF ALL THIS EXUBERANT DISPLAY OF GOOD-FUN MERRIMENT.

THE LA COPS FOUND THAT ALL THE CARS IN ONE BLOCK NEAR THE STAPLES CENTER, WHERE THE GAMES HAD BEEN PLAYED, HAD ALL BEEN FESTIVELY DECORATED THE SAME WAY. - THEY EACH HAD ALL THEIR WINDOWS BROKEN OUT BY THE CLEAR-VISION-FANATICAL LA FANS AND OTHER ASSORTED AND MORE BLEARY-EYED PARTYGOERS.

BEFORE THE LAKER FAN PARTY ENDED, A LOT MORE LA FOLKS GOT TO MEET A LOT MORE LA COPS. - I HATE TO SOUND SNOBBISH HERE, FRIENDS, BUT IF THIS IS THE BEST THOSE WEST COAST FOLKS CAN DO, I'D RATHER LIVE IN HOUSTON WITHOUT A CHAMPIONSHIP THAN LIVE IN LA WITH ONE. - HAVE A NICE WEEKEND, FELLOW HOUSTONIANS AND TRY TO REMEMBER: . IF THE ASTROS DO HAPPEN TO DEFEAT THE TEXAS RANGERS AT LEAST ONCE DURING THE CURRENT WEEKEND SERIES, TRY NOT TO BURN AND ROLL YOUR NEIGHBOR'S CAR AFTER THE GAME. OK?

Some Fun with Puns

June 18, 2010

Today’s one of those Fridays that calls for a change of pace. How many of you are familiar with the German word witzelsucht, (pronounced vitzel-zukht). I didn’t think so. I’d never heard of it either until I started reading up on the history of puns as a form of humor recently. Then I received an e-mail from a friend that contained the first ten puns in the group I’m presenting here today for no reason in my own mind other than the fact that that I do find this sort of humor to be invariably funny.

The 26th edition of Stedman’s Medical Dictionary, on the other hand, defines this fascination with the humor genre as “… a morbid tendency to pun, make poor jokes and tell pointless stories while being oneself inordinately entertained thereby.” Well, la-d-da! If that’s how you’re going to be, I say, “Stick it, Stedman! You’re getting in the way of all the fun!”

Here are twelve elaborately wonderful groaners for your coming weekend pleasure. WIsh I could attribute authorship to these to their creators, but I cannot. And that’s another thing about memorable puns. They all seem to rapidly loosen their moorings to any original port and slip forever into the waters of oceanic appreciation:

1.  King  Ozymandias of  Assyria was running low on cash after years of  war with the Hittites. His last great possession was the Star of the  Euphrates , the most valuable diamond in the  ancient world. Desperate, he went to Croesus, the  pawnbroker, to ask for a loan. Croesus said, “I’ll give  you 100,000 dinars for it.”  “But I paid a million dinars  for it,” the King protested. “Don’t you know who I am?  I am the king!”  Croesus replied, “When you wish to pawn a Star, makes no difference who you are.”

An apple a day won't keep the flaming arrows away.

2. Conclusive evidence has been found to confirm that William Tell and his entire archery-addicted family were also hooked into an every Monday night Geneva association as avid bowlers. Unfortunately, all of the  Swiss league records were destroyed in a monster fire, … and so … we’ll never know for whom the Tells bowled.

"Has your address or insurance changed since your last doctor's appointment?"

3. A man rushed into a busy doctor’s office and shouted, “Doctor!  I think I’m shrinking!” The doctor calmly responded, “Now, settle down. You’ll just have  to be a little patient.”

"We're coming up on the state line, honey? How old did you say you were?"

4.  A marine biologist  developed a race of genetically engineered dolphins that  could live forever if they were fed a steady diet of seagulls.  One day, his supply of the birds ran out so he had to go out and trap some more.  On the way  back, he spied two lions asleep on the road.  Afraid to wake them, he gingerly stepped over them.  Immediately, he was arrested and charged with…transporting gulls across  sedate lions for immortal porpoises.

"Should I pull the trigger or not?"

5.  Back in the 1800’s the Tate’s Watch Company of  Massachusetts wanted  to produce other products, and since they already made these fine cases for watches, they used them to produce compasses. The new compasses were so bad that people often ended  up in Canada or Mexico rather than  California . This, of  course, is the origin of the expression ,… “He who has a Tate’s is lost!”

6.  A thief broke into the  local police station and stole all the toilets and  urinals, leaving no clues.  A spokesperson for the police investigating team was quoted  as saying, “We have absolutely nothing to go on.”

"You gotta start off each day with a thong ..." - Jimmy Durante

7. An Indian chief was feeling very sick, so he summoned the medicine man. After a brief examination, the medicine man took out a long, thin strip of elk rawhide  and gave it to the chief, telling him to bite off, chew, and  swallow one inch of the leather every day.  After a  month, the medicine man returned to see how the chief was  feeling. The chief shrugged and said, “The thong is ended, but the malady lingers on.”

If you look beyond the numbers, you may come up with an extra census-read perception.

8.  A famous Viking explorer returned home from a voyage and found his name missing from the town register. His wife insisted on complaining to the local civic official who apologized  profusely, saying, “I must have taken Leif off my census.”

Go figure.

9.  There were three Indian squaws. One slept on a deer skin, one slept on an elk skin, and the third slept on a hippopotamus skin.  All three became pregnant.  The first two each had a baby boy. The one who slept on the hippo skin had twin boys. This just goes to prove that … the squaw of the hippopotamus is equal to the sons of the squaws of the other two hides.

10. A skeptical anthropologist was cataloging South American folk remedies with the assistance  of a tribal Brujo who indicated that the leaves of a  particular fern were a sure cure for any case of  constipation.  When the anthropologist expressed his  doubts, the Brujo looked eehim in the eye and said, “Let me  tell you, with fronds like these, you don’t need  enemas.”

The Rain in Spain ...

11. Once upon a time, actor John Wayne was on a plane for Madrid with crew and cast to make an action movie. There was a lot of drinking going on and a lot of kidding about the dangers of drinking too much in some of the hilly areas they would be filling. Wayne assured one at all that he would be OK on the trail, but as he rose from his seat for a pit stop before landing, he caught his foot and went crashing down in the aisle. Arising quickly, the Duke stayed on subject with this now famous actual quote: “Well, what do you know? It seems as though “the – Wayne in Spain – falls mainly on the plane.”

Mel Famous, Pitcher, 1969 St. Louis Cardinals

12. A few years ago, the St. Louis Cardinals had a fireballing right-handed relief pitcher named Mel Famous. Unfortunately, Mel had a real thirst for Budweiser beer whenever he got into a personal pinch or tough game situation. The problem came up big time in a 1969 game at the Astrodome. With the game tied at 2-2 in the bottom of the 9th, with the bases loaded and two outs, and the Astros batting, Houston sent up lefty Norm Miller as a pinch hitter for pitcher Larry Dierker. Sweating beads and making excuses about a broken shoelace, Cardinal pitcher Famous ducked quickly off the field, ostensibly to fix the lace, but actually to down a quick six-pack of Bud in the clubhouse tunnel before hustling back out to face Miller. Back on the mound, Famous quickly walked Norm Miller on four pitches, forcing in the winning run for a 3-2 Astros victory. Word got around among the players about Mel’s real reason for the previous quick timeout. From that moment forward, Norm Miller could never see a bottle or can of Bud without uttering these immortal words, “Budweiser! Why that’s the beer that made Mel Famous walk me.”

It’s Hard to WIn A Horse Race if They Call You “No-Neck”

June 17, 2010

Colt .45 Signee Walt “No-Neck” Williams Had His Best Years with the Chicago White Sox.

Fortunately for outfielder Walt Williams (BR/TR), he was a ballplayer, and not a race horse. It would have been very hard for him to have won many photo finishes without a lot more visible evidence on him of that universal head-connecting body part we call the neck. As it was, the club that originally signed him to his ten season major league career, the Houston Cot .45s, didn’t stick their necks out for Walt Williams all that far as a baseball player either. After Williams went 0 for 9 in ten games for the 1964 Colt .45s (the name that preceded “Astros” for Houston’s new major league club from 1962-64), Houston dealt, sold, or traded away Walt Williams for the proverbial bag of balls and a couple of spring training fast food restaurant discount coupons.

William resurfaced in the big leagues as an outfielder for the 1967 Chicago White Sox, where he spent the next six seasons (1967-72) enjoying  his two best seasons in the game. In 1969, Walt batted .304 in 135 games. Then, after a one-year slip back into mediocrity, Williams came back to hit .294 for the 1971 Pale Hose.

Walt Williams would also hit .289 in 104 games for the 1973 Cleveland Indians and then finish a        two-year run with the New York Yankees by crunching out a .282 BA mark in 82 games for the 1975 Bronx Bombers. 1975 would stand as No-Neck’s last season in the big leagues. He left the game with a career batting average of .270 in 842 games, including 106 doubles, 11 triples, and 33 home runs.

No-Neck Williams got all of his MLB hits as an American Leaguer.

After the big leagues, Williams played a couple of extra years in Japan for the Nippon Ham Fighters in 1976-77 before hanging up his cleats for good. He left te game honorably with a strong reputation as a good defensive player too. Walt made only 19 errors in 565 games on defense, finishing his MLB stats on that side of the ball with a fielding percentage of .981.

Williams received his “No-Neck” nickname during his start with the Colt .45s due to his short framed muscular body. At 5’6″ and 190 pounds, Williams appeared to have no neck. His head seemed to be directly connected to a barrel-chest that was quickly propelled around the field on very short motorized legs. It was not a pretty picture, but the results were pretty good.

Williams also seemed to like his “No-Neck” moniker and he figuratively bathed in fan friendliness wherever he played. The Brownwood, Texas native was a natural moving work of positive action in behalf of major league baseball. If more players behaved toward fans as Walt Williams did, the big leagues could save a lot of the money they now spend on marketing, public relations, and lawyers. Walt Williams was a true ambassador of baseball. I just selfishly wish he cold have spent his career here in Houston.

It simply wasn’t meant to be.

Walt Williams had some pretty memorable games as a hitter over the years. In game for the White Sox on May 21, 1970, Walt slammed out five hits (a double and 4 singles) in a 22-13 Chicago slugfest win over the Boston Red Sox at Fenway Park. He also scored 5 runs and drove in 2 more in that one.

Walt also reached the 4-hits-per-game mark 5 times in major league career. No hitter is that lucky that often. No-Neck Williams could flat-out put the wood on that little white, round sucker.

Williams’s last hurrah in the sunlight of baseball glory came in 1989 when he played for the St. Lucie Legends of the ill-fated Senior Professional Baseball Association. Today he is a 66-year old retired baseball player who is best remembered for the body part he apparently forgot to bring to the game.

The man had no neck. Just a lot of talent for winning baseball.

Our Friend, the Clock

June 16, 2010

Time waits for no one. When it comes to getting anything done, it's always now or never.

Each of us starts this day with some kind of agenda for what we hope to get done by nightfall. Maybe it’s highly organized and equally improbable that all the items on our list are accomplishable in the time available. Maybe it’s everything the other way, from disorganized to apparently non-existent, but that’s a daily plan too. Some people, perhaps many people, simply live a daily plan of drifting along the line of least resistance until they hit something. The something they usually hit is lunch.

Yesterday I wrote a piece on the City of Houston needing to get behind the bid for UH going after a place in the now altered Big 12 athletic conference. We of UH don’t have all our ducks in a row on commitments for building our new stadium and upgrading all our facilities, but I felt that we had no good alternative Tuesday, but to plan our time for making our case before the Big 12 now, while the door seemed to be open.

My friend Bob Hulsey wrote a gentle comment suggesting that UH was barking up the wrong tree, that the Big 12 had no interest in a market area they already had covered, and that UH would be better served building its new facilities and bigger ticket sale packages over time for the sake of attracting future interest from the SEC in expanding into Texas and the Houston market.

I still think we always have to respond to these apparent openings with a plan as they arise, but developments over the past 24 hours pretty much support that Bob Hulsey was right on target about this one. The Big 12 has announced that they have no interest in expanding to fill the two spots abandoned by Nebraska and Colorado, nor will they consider new members from this geographic area, if they ever do consider expansion again.

We’ll have to take the Big 12 at their word as we move on at UH to prepare for something longer term elsewhere, as Bob Hulsey suggests.

This much is also clear. UH needs a plan for the future that entails real and meaningful action now in preparation for something better than C-USA down the road. We won’t get there by sitting around, watching the clock, and waiting for the lunch bump in our day.

City of Houston Needs to Back UH for Big 12

June 15, 2010

UH "In Time" Motto now boiling into "It's About Time"

Richard Justice of the Houston Chronicle covered the nutshell about as well as I’ve heard it said in his column of this morning, Tuesday, June 15th. – The Big 12 will try to stick together on the heels of Nebraska and Colorado departing for the Big 10 and Pac 10 respectively. UT doesn’t want to spend the rest of their days playing with no sleep on the west coast. A&M doesn’t want to spend the next twenty years looking up at the business side of an Alabama or LSU heel in the SEC. It would be better to silly-putty the hole in the Big 12 and make two new members trade the hog’s portion of TV and bowl game revenue-sharing for status and greater social acceptance as new “partners” in the all central time middle-of-America major collegiate league.

Justice says it’s time for UH and TCU to get these chances – and for UH to step up and show by their actions that they are game-worthy of the opportunity. UH must commit to building those upgrades to the football and basketball facilities that are now on the drawing board and back the effort with some big time cash sale of season tickets in support of each major sport. Coaches Kevin Sumlin and James Dickey will take care of the recruiting and winning side of football and basketball, but UH alumni must step forward right now and put their money and hearts behind ticket sales, donor contributions, and political pressuring on that group in Austin we call the Texas legislature.

Justice also identifies President/Chancellor Renu Khator and her goal of moving UH to first tier status as a national research and educational university, and her awareness of how a first-rate athletic program draws positive attention and other forms of financial support to the attainment of these goals, as one of UH’s major assets in this fight. It also helps to have a young, smart, on-the-make athletic director like Mark Rhoades leading the parade on facilities and business planning.

UH also needs to mend fences politically with UT and restore what used to be good relations with A&M, Texas Tech, and Baylor. The Cougars need the support of their Texas brethren to get the nod over other schools competing for these open slots – and this work, hopefully, is already underway.

For now, this week, today, if possible – UH alums need to be writing and e-mailing legislators to show support for idea of UH moving to the Big 12.  A full explanation of the UH pitch and a list of legislator mailing and email addresses s available at ecommunications@uh.edu for your serious use.

I’d like to add one thing as a UH alumnus that Mr. Justice left out as a more disinterested writer on this subject. I’d like to see the City of Houston get behind the UH bid for Big 12 membership. I’d like to see Mayor Annise Parker and the entire membership of City Council draft a plan on how the City will support the UH Big 12 bid with the backing of city funds and vigorous political action.

The same message goes out to Harris County Judge Ed Emmett and the members of Harris County Commissioners Court. The University of Houston is the third largest public university system in the State of Texas. It bears the name of Sam Houston, the greatest hero in our state’s history, and it more than shares the “Houston” identity with thousands of us lifelong Houstonians who got our start in life because it was here for us when we needed it to be.

Our “Houston” deserves the full-bore of our city’s and county’s support on the Big 12 bid. If those same two groups could find the time, money, and energy to build a stadium for TSU and a group of professional soccer promoters, it’s the least the City and County can do for its banner-bearing, major public university.

Even the UT, A&M, and other university Texas population groups of Houstonians will be aided by a stronger UH presence. It’s about time the whole community got behind this movement.

“Houstonians for Houston in the Big 12” sounds pretty good to me.

The Kid Who Struck Out 27 in One Game

June 14, 2010

Ron Necciai of the Bristol Twins: The Man with 27 K's and a No-No on May 13, 1952.

All of the current ballyhoo over Washington Nationals rookie phenom pitcher Stephen Strasberg just stirs the memory of a kid who still stands for some of us as the guy who arrived in the bigs with the biggest hype of all time – and I’m not talking about David Clyde of the 1973 Texas Rangers.

I’m talking about Ron Necciai (pronounced Net-shy) of the 1952 Pittsburgh Pirates, who broke in to the majors with his first start on August 10, 1952 at the tender age of barely 20. To get there, all Ron had to do was perform a feat that no other pitcher in the history of baseball had pulled off until he squeezed the trigger in a 7-0 winning game no-hitter pitched for the Class D Appalachian League Bristol Twins over  the Welch Miners on May 13, 1952, when Necciai was still only age 19.

Necciai’s gem against the miners tallied 27 strikeouts over nine frames, including one batter who reached first base on a passed ball in the ninth inning. That miscue was covered by a fourth strikeout in the ninth to go along with the 23 other men he had fanned on the night. One earlier other out was recorded on a ground ball play to first in the second inning. One other Welch batter put the ball into play in the ninth, reaching first on an error before Necciai breezed one more guy to seal the shutout no-hitter. Two other Welch batters reached base during the game on a walk and hit batsman, but nobody got a hit or even came close. With blazing speed and a curve that broke like the proverbial pitch that falls off a table, the 6’5″, 185 pound Ron Necciai had pitched his way into the relatively media-quiet cobweb of sports reporting in 1952, Can you imagine what Necciai’s life could have been like had the world had Twitter, Facebook, and blogs back in 1952?

Ron Necciai’s roll didn’t stop with the sensational game against Welch. His very next time out saw him strike out 24 in a two-hitter win. By the time he got the call up to the talent-challenged Pirates during that same 1952 season, he had struck out 109 hitters in 43 innings with Bristol, and then posted a Class B Carolina Legaue-high 172 strikeouts in 126 innings at Burlington-Graham.

The trouble brewing for Necciai, however, was part health and part culture. Ron suffered from ulcers, even at that early age, and the tension and stress began to take its toll upon him. He was working on a torn rotator cuff with the way he threw those hard to hit fast ones in the minors and there was no one around in the Pirate system who was any different than the rest of the baseball system at that time. Back then, if you had a guy who could throw that hard and that effectively, most clubs just allowed the apparent genie in the bottle to keep on blowing smoke for as long as he was able.

True to the the tempo of that age, that’s just what the Pirates did.They allowed Ron Necciai to simply blow his arm away. By the time he was called up to make his major league debut on August 10, 1952, he was pretty much done before he had any fun. In the 54.2 Pirate innings that Ron Necciai worked between his call up date and his final major league appearance on September 28, 1952, he compiled what turned out be his career major league record of 1 win, 6 losses, a 7.08 earned run average, and only 31 strikeouts.

The army drafted Necciai after the 1952 season due to the Korean Conflict, but his bleeding ulcer condition made short work of his military career. By the time spring training rolled around again, the rotator cuff tear pretty much had ended any chance that Ron Necciai had for a comeback, although I’m not sure when or if the injury was ever actually accurately diagnosed during the time frame that Ron kept trying to play. We do know that Ron Necciai kept trying to make something work out until he finally gave up in 1955.

Ron Necciai went into the sporting goods business after his baseball future collapsed around him, but the man married, had a nice family, and an apparently happy and successful life from there, simply accepting his baseball injury as “just one of those things” that happened. Five days from now, on June 18, 2010, Ron Necciai and his family will be celebrating his 78th birthday at the old fireballer’s home in Gallatin, Pennsylvania.

Happy Birthday, Ron Necciai – and thanks for the wonderful memories of a guy who, had he played during a more enlightened medical era, might have made it all the way to the big Hall with a little different twist on the dial of destiny. It just wasn’t meant to be.

The Pecan Park Eagle Revisited

June 13, 2010

The Pecan Park Eagle: Ode To An Old Baseball Cover I Found While Playing Catch with My 8 Year Old Son Neal In An Abandoned School Yard in 1993

Tattered friend, I found you again,

Laying flat in a field of yesterday’s hope.

Your resting place? An abandoned schoolyard.

When parents move away, the children go too.

How long have you been here,

Strangling in the entanglement of your grassy grave,

Bleaching your brown-ness in the summer sun,

Freezing your frailness in the ice of winter?

How long, old friend, how long?

Your magical essence exploded from you long ago.

God only knows when.

Perhaps, it was the result of one last grand slam.

One last grand slam, a solitary cherishment,

Now remembered only by the doer of that distant past deed.

Only the executioner long remembers the little triumphs.

The rest of the world never knows, or else, soon forgets.

I recovered you today from your ancient tomb,

From your place near the crunching sound of my footsteps.

I pulled you from your enmeshment in the dying July grass,

And I wanted to take you home with me.

Oh, would that the warm winds of spring might call us,

One more time, awakening our souls in green renewal

To that visceral awareness of hope and possibility.

To soar once more in spirit, like the Pecan Park Eagle,

High above the billowing clouds of a summer morning,

In flight destiny – to all that is bright and beautiful.

There is a special consolation in this melancholy reunion.

Because you once held a larger world within you,

I found a larger world in me.

Come home with me, my friend,

… Come home.

… Bill McCurdy, July 4, 1993.

Another Lost Summer Love

June 12, 2010

Back in the summer of 1954, you got a lot of sweet-tasting love for 15 cents a slice.

Watermelon stands. They used to be everywhere once summer embedded its way into Houston for another four or five months, depending on the early or late availability of sizzler-breaking northers in the early or late fall, but we didn’t mind so much. We were old school Houstonians, the generation that grew up without home or car air conditioning and the everyday expectation that the opportunity to live sweat-free was guaranteed by the Bill of Rights.

We didn’t mind it so much because we didn’t know any better, but also because we had some great reprieves from the everyday heat and humidity that otherwise dominated the three school-recess months of June, July, and August that we kids and teens viewed as summer. And the funny thing is – some of these things involved sweating – and we knew that going in.

I always thought of these things as items on my summer fun, run, and love list because they all had a lot to do with each. They were all fun; they each required us to either run or do them on the run; and they were all things we did in the name of, the taste of, or the pursuit of – what else? A thing called Love.

The list was endless, considerably shared by Houston teens, but still individualized, as well, and it often included such items as playing baseball or running over to Buff Stadium to catch a Buffs game; fighting off the mosquitoes on date trips to one of our numerous drive-in movie theatres to catch the latest sci fi or rock-n-roll rip-off flicks; cruising Prince’s, Stuart’s, and any of the many other drive-in coke and burger stores; swimming at one of our also many public pools; heading to the beach in Galveston; catching the roller coaster and carnival (win-a-stuffed-bear) games at Playland Park on South Main; doing the big time downtown movie scene of the Metropolitan, Loews State, or Majestic when you needed to impress a date; hitting the suburban movies when impressions weren’t all that important; going to the drive-in movies (as mentioned earlier) when you were more interested in date reactions over the need to make impressions; playing miniature golf; just driving around and burning up all that cheap gas that sometimes went on sale for eighteen cents a gallon during price wars; bagging groceries and throwing newspapers to float the money we needed for our mostly innocent acts of summer love; and maybe even catching some Friday night wrestling, bowling, or midget auto racing as a break from our usual fare.

James Arness played the green vegetable alien terror in the classic movie “The Thing.” The film became a regular feature at drive-in movies during the 1950s, where James Arness then exerted more influence on teen couples going steady than Elvis ever dreamed of having.

The last of these now mostly lost summer fun runs were the watermelon stands that used to pop up all over in June and stay with us through Labor Day. My particular favorite was one we had on that little corner in the East End where Griggs Road, Lawndale, and Evergreen all still come together.

The place came with a tent-like top and open sides that caught the Gulf breeze, when there was one, and the melon came ice cold and always sweet – and straight from the famous melon fields of Hempstead, Texas, Ample sitting room was available on wooden benches at redwood tables. And the melon came at you with pre-purchase sweetness sampling for ten to fifteen cents a slice. Just add a beautiful brunette girl friend with a soft voice, fiery brown eyes, and a certain haunting smile – and the melon tasted out of this world.

I still miss the old watermelon stand, but the memory lingers on in quiet compensation for the fact that some of the sweet things we find early in life don’t stay late, except as treasured memories that sometimes find a way to dance in our dreams of happily recalled once-upon-a-times.

For me, baseball has been the one early love of my life that I never had to give up or alter in some way due to changes in my own need for emotional growth. Once baseball and I found each other back in 1947, we never let go. Never had to. All other things have either grown, mutated, or gone away, but not so the game of baseball.

“It’s still the same old story, a fight for love and glory, a case of do or die. The fundamental things apply, as times goes by.”

From then to now, the melon stand call of baseball is the same: – “PLAY BALL!”

And may you enjoy your own summer love recollections full tilt, without regret. Life’s too short for anything less than lessons, adjustments, and even happier, fuller celebrations of the human spirit.

1928: That Wonderful 1st Year at Buff Stadium

June 11, 2010

On its first Opening Day, visiting Baseball Commissioner Kenesaw Mountain Landis anointed Buffalo Stadium as the finest new minor league ballpark in America.

The new Buff Stadium of 1928 was great enough to serve as the home of our minor league Houston Buffaloes from the late 1920s all the way through the last picture show of 1961. Except for the World War II years (1943-45) in which the entire Texas League shutdown due to the talent drain from all the baseball players on combat duty, the Buffs played out the large balance of their minor league history at Buff Stadium from 1928 through 1961. Their previous home, from 1907 through 1927, had been at West End Park, off Smith on Andrews Street.

1928 wasn’t simply a year for new ballparks. General Manger Branch Rickey of the parent club St. Louis Cardinals had poured a ton of talent into the Buffs roster as it began competition in its new bright and shiny digs in the near East End on St. Bernard Avenue (now Cullen Boulevard).

Red Worthington, Left Field, 1928 Houston Buffs

Left fielder Red Worthington led the club in hitting in 1928 with 211 hits that were good enough for a .352 season batting average that ranked him up there with the league leaders.

The club had two qualities in general that are basic to strong championship clubs. The 1928 Buff had hitting and pitching. In addition to Worthington, catcher/playing manager Frank “Pancho” Snyder banged out 177 hits for a .329 batting average; second baseman Cary Selph crunched out 198 safeties for a .312 mark; center fielder George “Watty” Watkins also hit safely 177 times for a .306 tab; and right fielder Ray Powell slid over the magic mark at .302 as the fifth full-season .300 batter in the starting lineup. Worthington’s 211 hit total led the Texas League in 1928.

Field Manager Snyder also managed one of the best minor league starting rotations ever assembled.

In deference to all that Dizzy Dean and the great 1931 Buffs accomplished, the 1928 Houston team even matched then surpassed that club’s accomplishments. With four twenty-games or more winners performing as the steel-fortified starting rotation, there wasn’t much doubt from early on that the 1928 Buffs definitely were the team to beat in the Texas League. Jim Lindsey (25-10, 3.49) led the Texas League in wins; WIld Bill Hallahan (23-12, 2,23, 244 K) led the league with the lowest ERA and the most strike outs (Ks). Ken Penner (20-8. 3.47) and Frank Barnes (20-9, 2.95) rounded out winner’s row on the Houston mound.

The Buffs and the Wichita Falls Spudders finished in a dead heat with records of 101-53 at season’s end, but the Buff then won a best three of five playoff series by 3 games to 1 over the Spudders to finish the season as Texas League champions with a playoff-game incorporated final 1928 record of 104-54.

The 1928 Houston Buffs went on to defeat the Birmingham Barons in the Dixie Series, four games to two, to reign supreme as the best club on the two blocks of southern and southwestern soil that were better known as the Southern Association and the Texas League. As you may also recall, the 1931 Buffs of Dizzy Dean would also go up against the boys from Birmingham in the Dixie Series, but the much more ballyhooed later Dean-Buffs would lose to the Barons, four games to three.

Because baseball greatness has always been measured more by where you finished than it has been by how you did while getting there, I have to go with the 1928 Houston Buffs, the first club to play in their wonderful namesake ballpark, as the greatest Buff team of all time. Of the four Houston Buff teams to win the Dixie Series (1928, 1947, 1956, & 1957), that first Buff club was the best all the way in my book. They did it all season with hitting and pitching. They had it together in full force when they needed a playoff victory to wrap up the league pennant. And they finished off the best team of the Southern Association in a manner befitting champions of a universe bigger than their own back yard when it really counted on a larger stage.

Long live the memory of the 1928 Houston Buffs. Through 2010, the Buffs remain our city’s greatest example of winning baseball. That could change in the future, of course, but it remains in the hands of the Houston Astros now to rewrite any history of this city’s greatest past championship moments in baseball.

The Buffs have done all they can for history. They finished their part of the job 49 years ago.