Mr. Double X, Jimmie Foxx

Back in the mid sixties when I was young 20 something college student I played in a baseball league during the summer in Lakewood, Ohio called Lakewood A. We were mostly college students home for the summer but there were also a fair number of former minor leaguers who just couldn't walk completely away from the game they loved. Some of these old pros were in their forties but still had the skills and I was amazed by the plays they made and the hits they stroked and yet these were the guys that didn't make it. On my team sponsored by a Cleveland company called Airmatic Valve we had a young man named Jimmie Foxx who played first base, at best he was average at the plate and in the field but as I later learned his father was none other than THE Jimmie Foxx or 'Double X'. At each game his son played this barrel chested older man would sit stoically in the bleachers quietly watching his boy play and probably the only reason I knew anything about Jimmie Foxx was that my older brother had a Louisville Slugger with Foxx's name imprinted on it which made want to know a little more. Here's a YouTube video about Double X.

Watching a Legend

On a sunny June afternoon in 1949 as a six year old my mom took my brother Jim and I to a Indians game against the then Philadelphia Athletics. This was special because mom had secured box seats along the third baseline about ten rows from field...........what great seats! All the previous games our mother had taken us to were in the various nose bleeds sections of Cleveland Municipal Stadium seemingly miles from the action on the field. On this particular day the Indian's starting pitcher would be none other than future Hall of Famer Satchel Paige and we were privileged to witness his his pitching magic complete with the windmill wind up. Satch pitched 6 innings and gave up 3 runs on 7 hits not a bad outing considering his age at 43. here's link to the box score on that memorable day. http://www.baseball-almanac.com/box-scores/boxscore.php?boxid=194906052CLE

Rare Satchel Paige Color Footage: From the Academy Film Archive

Thanks Mom

The summer after my dad's death in August of 1952 my mom took my brother and myself to a major league baseball game at the now demolished Cleveland Municipal Stadium. The Cleveland Indians were playing the St. Louis Browns, the present day Baltimore Orioles, our seats were in the upper deck and if you're not familiar with the old Municipal Stadium it was large cavernous structure that seated over 70,000 people which is about twice the capacity of present day ball parks. My first glimpse of the playing field back in 1949 took my breath away with it's expanses of green bent grass both infield and outfield the likes of which I have yet to see to this day. I guess it was love at first sight because after this initial exposure I knew I wanted to play this game which I eventually did in the vacant field across from my boyhood home to Little League, American Legion Ball, high School, college, and semi pro sandlot. I was a left handed pitcher gifted with a strong arm and I enjoyed moderate success with a perfect game in Little League and a no hitter in high school and pretty much mediocre the rest of the way but still even to this day it's a game I love to immerse myself in even though my playing days are long over. All this I owe to my mom who was instrumental in introducing me to the game and I just can't thank her enough for what continues to be a rewarding experience whether it's a game I'm watching on TV or if I happen to be at the ball park in person. And it continues to be not so much about who wins or loses but more about those sensory experiences like the sound of a baseball on a wooden bat, the crack of ball against the leather mit, the sound of an umpire calling balls and strikes, a white baseball against a background of freshly cut green grass, perfectly striped base lines and white hollywood style bases. Then there is the magic of night baseball which offers no distraction other than directing your attention to the play on field and the field itself where the lights bring a level of intensity that day baseball seems to lack. So thanks mom for all of it, for getting me involved with playing, with watching, and with soaking it all up.

Back in November of last year we got together as a family for the Thanksgiving Holiday, in celebration of this event I decided that it was about time that my kids, grandchild, and their significant others should be finally introduced to Wiffle Ball. I played this modified version of baseball as a kid growing up in Ohio and then well into my college years so I thought it was about time that my children should experience it also even though they were now in their 30's and 40's. My vehicle of introduction was a little video made in the front yard of the Donnell Homestead where I had prepared a Wiffle Ball field.

Hello everyone! I know it's been awhile since I posted anything but if my memory serves me right it's been about 3 years, wow! Presently I'm in Goodyear Arizona having just finished 16 exhibition baseball games with my Cleveland Indians. We'll be starting the trek back to Livingston Montana in about another ten days or so after leaving our home back in early October. Since my last post I've added some metal to body in the form of a right total shoulder replacement and am now pain free in that region at this rate I'll be running out of joint areas soon. Prior to our stop here in Arizona we spent time in Smithville Texas until late January before heading west. As always, I'm looking forward to getting back to the Big Sky for the upcoming summer months.

Well it's about time I posted something since it's been about a year and a half since the last one. I've broken the 70 barrier ( age that is and not golf ) and now I'm officially 71 as of late January. Last August I had both my knees replaced via TKR or total knee replacement surgery in Billings, Montana. Now 10 months out I'm doing great and feeling no pain whatsoever and am doing all the activities I did prior to surgery. The surgeon recommended that I have both of done at the same time since I was in pretty good physical shape after months of working out in preparation for the expected procedure. Although my knees look like something out of a Frankenstein movie with 8 inch scares they really feel good The photo was taken 2 days after surgery, I know it looks scary but they healed up just fine. The rehab was a bit of an ordeal but thanks to a great physical therapist and some dedication on my part I was feeling pretty good by 5 months out. We're back in Montana now for the remainder of the summer and I look forward to walking my favorite golf course till we leave again at the end of October.

Well it's been nearly a year since I last posted so here's an update, Presently we're in Texas at the Donnell Homestead trying to avoid winter in Montana. Right now it's not exactly 'balmy' here with temp in the high to middle forties but I'm certain things will begin to warm up in the weeks to come. We had a great Christmas with family and friends and are already looking forward to our road trip that will take us to Goodyear, Arizona and Cleveland Indians Spring Training, the smell of baseball is in the air! I've reclaimed the ball field I built around this time last year since it was disguised as a hay field since we left last February until we returned in November. The baselines are chalked the mound repaired the batter's boxes laid down, and what grass there is has been cut. The diamond was re-christened with BP (batting practice) with my son Tim, daughter Sarah, and her husband Matt all taking part plus two Golden Retrievers Bogie and Hurley who served as ball-boys. The picture below compared to last year's is a lot less green probably because of the cooler weather and over-nite freezes we've had lately.

Build It and They Will Come

Hi everyone, it's been awhile since I posted and when I did the video I shot for the post was listed as private hence not many folks got a chance to view it. I corrected that today so if your were denied access it is now available in the public domain. That post was in September so I've got some catching up to do. I am in Texas now at my wife's family homestead in Smithville, Texas and have been since the first week of November with the weather being summer-like ninety per cent of the time. The property sits on or around about forty acres which is mainly used for growing hay with the house in the middle of it all and aside from a few property fences and trees it's a pretty open area. Last year while I prepared for Cleveland Indians Fantasy Camp here in Smithville the thought occurred to me that I could build a baseball field on this land somewhere although at the time I never got around to it. Well guess what? I finally got around to it. A little history is in order here before I continue. Growing up in a small college town southwest of Cleveland, Ohio our home was across the street from a vacant field which the owner allowed us the play on anytime we wanted. Now this was the fifties so youngsters had to use their imagination to find ways of entertaining themselves.(Sorry guys, no XBox 360's or iPhones) My mother introduced me to baseball by taking my brother and I to a Cleveland Indians game sometime in the mid fifties and that became our main diversion. When I first saw the lush green grass at Municipal Stadium I was awestruck at the intense green and the geometry of the infield, it left an indelible mark on my spirit one I intended to replicate at some point. My first attempt prior to the current one was to build a slightly downsized field in that vacant lot across the street. I hauled dirt from underneath our front porch to build a pitchers mound and carved out base paths and an infield with a shovel. This became the venue where we would spend countless hours playing wiffle ball with two or three on a team and modified rules to make up for our lack of personal. This pastime endured well into our college years until the land was finally sold and a house was moved in to occupy the site of our beloved ballpark. It's amazing what you can do with an open field, a riding lawn mower, a long measuring tape, a source of dirt, a shovel, a rake and a wheelbarrow plus a good dose of manual labor. Since I first carved it out of the vacant hay field at the end of last week I've tinkering and refining it a little each day and continues to look more and more like a ball field as it evolves. My daughter Sarah, her husband Matt, and myself christened it last Sunday with a little BP (batting practice) with souvenir baseballs from spring training and a real wooden bat, there's nothing like the sound of cowhide on ash of a Louisville Slugger. Here's a quick look. In 'Field of Dreams' James Earl Jones' monologue captures the essence of the magic that is baseball.

Home Sweet Home

Not long ago I wrote a post describing what had happened to our home in Livingston while we were away for the winter in Goodyear, Arizona. Five months later I am happy to report that we are now back in our home with repairs now 100% complete. It's been a long haul waiting for this project to reach completion but now at long last it's a done deal and we couldn't be happier. You never realize how important somebody or something is until you are without them or it for a long period of time. Here's a quick video tour of our 'new' home.

The Rare Double Rainbow

With the right combination of rain and sunshine we're rewarded with the rainbow, white light refracted into it's various color components. This was taken two evenings ago on the deck of my neighbor and good friend Paul Bradley and we were gifted with not only one rainbow but two.

227 Clark St. Berea, Ohio

This little white house has housed three generations of my family from my paternal grandparents to my mother and father, and lastly my brother Jim. It was where I grew up and became the person I am now. The house and the property it sits on are a treasure trove of cherished memories from the day we moved in 1949 until the day I left for war in 1968 and not to return again except periodic visits with my own family. The house is empty now and probably at some point in the future will be sold to finance my brother's care in assisted living and then some other family will begin their traditions at 227 Clark St. Berea, Ohio.

Long Time No Post

Yes chief that's true, it has been a long time. Well the reason is that this long delay has everything to do with what has been going on in my life of late. First of all the good part and that was the birth of my granddaughter on the 8th of April in Atlanta, Georgia. My daughter Sarah and her husband Matt took delivery of a 9 pound baby girl named Lily, but that's only half the the story. Here's a link to a featured article that appeared in a suburban Atlanta magazine just a short time ago , http://fayettewoman.com/lily-love-story.html . The article explains in detail what happened on this incredible journey to new life.
Now to the less happy affairs that have intersected my life. I have an older brother Jim, four years my senior, whom I had to place in an assisted living situation due to his numerous falls at his home in Ohio where he has lived alone for the past twenty years. It's never an easy thing to remove a person from the surroundings they so cherish not to mention the fact that he's the third generation of my family to have lived there. At this time Jim seems to be adjusting but right now he's on trial run stay at this facility to see if it's going to work out for the long term. So far so good.
The last episode concerns our Montana home which sustained an uncontained water leak due to a frozen pipe on an interior wall even though the heat was on. This happened in late March just we were preparing to come back to Montana from Arizona. We were alerted to this disaster by a neighbor who was doing his weekly check on home while we were away. Three months later we are still putting the pieces back together and it

looks like it will be at least another month before we're back in the house. All this time we've been living in our RV with two cats and two dogs and I now understand the term 'bunker mentality'

What Is It?

During one my visits the Cleveland Indians' Player Development Complex in Goodyear, Arizona I came across this little guy guarding a section of drain culvert across from the main practice field. It looks like an owl but I'm not certain so if anyone happens to be able to identify her let me know. I am without any of my bird watching field guides so I'm clueless...............as usual. She seems to be protecting this particular area possibly a nest.

Spring Training From Goodyear, Arizona

Today marks the beginning of another baseball season as the boys of summer return to to Florida and Arizona for a month and a half of spring training. The weather here in Goodyear couldn't be better with today's high forecast to be 80! In an hour or so the air will be filled with the sound of leather on leather as balls crack into waiting mits along with the unmistakable sound of wooden bats against Rawlings Major League baseballs. For a baseball fan and former player the atmosphere is absolutely electric, this why we're able to endure the long winter. PLAY BALL !!!!!

It's Been a Awhile

In fact it's been more than a while somewhere in the neighbor hood of 2 1/2 months. Between driving back from Texas to Montana for Christmas, visiting my brother in Ohio, doing a incomplete rush job for Christmas shopping, then driving from Montana to Goodyear Arizona right after Christmas a blog post was the last thing on my mind. But now that we're settled in our RV in sunny and warm Arizona it's time to relate what the hell has been going on.
First of all I attended the Cleveland Indians Fantasy Camp at their player development complex in Goodyear Arizona. It was a week filled with all things baseball with former Indians' players, major league uniforms and club house facilities, and lots of playing baseball which was something I hadn't done in over forty years. And don't think my body didn't notice, after a few days the once empty trainers room now had a line of aging ball players serpentining out their door and down the hallway while the air hung heavy with the smell of analgesic rubs. Men hobbled around after our games with ice bags taped to arms, legs, knees, and shoulders. But despite all the physical discomfort most of the seventy some attendees endured we all had a wonderful time trying to recapture our youth in our attemtp to play a young man's game. My week came to an abrupt end during a Wednesday morning game when I swung at a low breaking pitch reaching out with left arm I felt the pop of something. That something was the tendon that connects the lower end of my

left bicep to my left elbow. I was assessed by the Indian's lead trainer and he confirmed my fears of a snapped tendon, I was quickly put in touch with Indian's local orthopedic surgeon and the surgical repairs were completed several days later. I guess that puts me on the DL for two months, but no mind, I'll be basking in the Arizona sun watching every Indians home spring training game until they break camp in April, not a bad way to rehab.

Train Towns

 

    My permanent home is Livingston, Montana a small town of around 6000 full time residents. Livingston's history is allied with the railroad generally and the now defunct Northern Pacific Railroad in particular. It was once a bustling railroad stop on the way to Yellowstone National Park and became known as the 'Gateway to Yellowstone'. Now with the Northern Pacific gone the tracks no longer head south to Gardiner the 'Gateway' town but veer to to west toward Bozeman and beyond. The locomotives now move the box cars and coal tenders labeled with the logo of the Burlington Northern and Santa Fe instead of the luxurious Pullman cars of yesteryear.
    My present location of Smithville, Texas is also a railroad town owing a good deal of it's existence to the Missouri, Kansas and Texas line also known as the 'Katy' line. As with the Northern Pacific in Livingston the Katy was eventually absorbed by a larger railroad in this case the present day Union Pacific Railroad which still domiciles crews here and maintains a small operations center.
    For whatever reason I am particularly fascinated by these huge diesel electric locomotives that go rumbling behind the homestead here on tracks that are less 100 yards away blaring theirs horn and belching black smoke while trailing freight cars and mineral tenders to destinations east and west. Here's a sample of the sights and sound that intrigue me so much courtesy of the Union Pacific Railroad.

The Live Oaks of Smithville, Texas

     The name live oak comes from the fact that evergreen oaks remain green and "live" throughout winter, when other oaks are dormant, leafless and "dead"-looking. The name is used mainly in North America, where evergreen oaks are widespread in warmer areas, along the Atlantic coast from southeast Virginia and North Carolina to Florida, west along the Gulf Coast to Texas and across the southwest to California and southwest Oregon. In particular, the campus of Rice University is home to thousands of live oaks
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A large live oak, called the "Big Tree," is said to a 1000 years old and is found found in Goose Island State Park in Rockport, Texas.