News Around the League

Coach Cougan was a traveling man yesterday. He drove out to Bellevue and watched the amazing MBC freshmen of Odea at Newport High School. He saw Nick hit a deep drive to right center (which was caught) to lead off the game. Three batters later Ethan slapped a sharp single to drive in a run. Quin flew out to right and later walked. Nick hit a sharp single his second time up.

I then drove over to Bannerwood to see Spencer playing VARSITY (!) third base for Bainbridge Island against Eastside Catholic. Spencer had two hits while I was there and had yet to wet his pants (or at least not so you could see from the stands).

I was pround of all of you guys and the hustle and determination you brought to the game. Just one thing though,and I hope I am not asking too much. When I am there, and watching you play could you AT LEAST do that Sammy Sosa thing when you get a hit or do something good. You know, do a little hand movement thingee, kiss your fingers and point to me in the stands.

It is Now a Giant Hardware Store

Years and years ago, in the old black and white days, Seattle had a wonderful old baseball stadium. It was called Sicks Seattle Stadium. That is Rainier Avenue to the right and Martin Luther King (Empire Way in those days) Way to the left. It was located in the Rainier Valley about midway from Dearborn and Columbia City.

I was lucky to attend games there (season ticket holder for the Rainier’s in the early 70's) and even more lucky to actually get to play there. For my sophomore and junior years at Seattle U this was home.

It was pretty run down then, but hey, it was still a big league park to us. The drinking fountain in the dugout was horrible (see the scene in THE NATURAL where Pop tries to take a drink), but they were real "dug"outs and there was a locker room and bathroom available up the ramp. The outfield walls were big and tall and had old signs on them. Our crowds were small, parents and girlfriends and wives all sitting in fold up chairs. My brother still has a wonderful picture he took of his wife Patti, sitting alone amid the scattered chairs just as the sun is setting and the lights were coming on. As you can just imagine, you got a little pumped up every time you came to that glorious palace to play a game.

I wish the picture*(that I have stolen from Dave Eskenazi and Steve Rudman's Wayback feature on sportspressnw.com) was a more full shot. I wish it showed more of the left field corner. As a young player I had many faults, none greater than my impatience at the plate. In a round field I would have made the big leagues as most of my best hits were on the wrong side of the left field line. Against Gonzaga my sophomore year (with the bases loaded and two outs in the ninth) I hit a ball OUT of Sicks Stadium, over the fence, over the bleachers and saw it bounce on Empire Way and attack the apartments....just foul. Maybe Carlton Fisk could have kept it fair, but my ball wouldn't listen no matter how hard I waved my hands. On the next pitch I swung five times on a change-up to end the game.

Link to Wayback archive at sportspressnw.com:
http://sportspressnw.com/author/daveeskenazi/


* Postscript. After asking Dave's permission for the post (thanks Dave) Dave provided a better picture of Sicks Stadium (taken during a Pilot game) that shows the true magnitude of my my blast. And now that I have a picture, I guess my memory of the ball hitting the apartments has been proven WRONG (but what are memories for), but it did bounce in the street, just between the light pole and the foul pole!

March Madness

I sent an email out this morning. I am having a March Madness Limited Pool contest. The picture above is from the size large Ebbets Field Flannel's T-shirt that we are competing for.

The rules are simple. Pick 16 teams. You get a point for each game they win. You MUST pick one of every seed #. That means you pick one #1, one #2 all the way to a seed #16. Email your picks by tomorrow.

AND... if you have never been to Ebbets Field Flannels, you should go sometime. Real cool old time baseball jersey, jackets, tee shirts and hats. They also have old hockey and old football gear. They have a web presence www.ebbets.com that you can go to and look at stuff. There is typically some history involved when you look at an item.

Speaking of history, and speaking of reading - both BIG things for old Coach Cougan, I just finished the new Mickey Mantle biography, a sad tale and am currently reading a memoir of Carl Erskine's. I BETTER not have to tell you who Mickey Mantle is, and Carl Erskine was a standout pitcher for the Brooklyn Dodgers (and stayed with them when they ran off to LA). Here is a GREAT quote from Carl on how he pitched Stan the Man.

"I've had a pretty good success facing Stan (Musial) by throwing him my best pitch and backing up third base."

The Mantle book is on my kindle, but the Erskine memoir is a real book and is open to loan to any avid readers out there. And Carl Erskine ACTUALLY has a web site - www.carlerskine.com

Doors closing at McNeil Island prison after 135 years

Coach Cougan likes to tell people that he spent 30 days locked up at McNeil Island in the late 70's. I like to tell the story just for shock value. It is true, I spent time at McNeil Island.

I played semi-pro ball during the summers then and McNeil Island was in our league. They played all their games at home (obviously) and it was a weird experience going there. Their teams were tough (duh) and they had some pretty good ball players. The entire place smelled like one giant ashtray.

After a hit and you were standing on a base, if you had the courage (I have always been a yapper) you would ask the first baseman, or second basemen etc what he was in for. They ALWAYS looked you right in the eye and said "murder". I was the catcher and the scariest moment I ever experience was when our pitcher hit a batter. He got so nervous after that he hit the next guy.... and then two more! As the guy who has to protect my pitcher, I was sweating bullets, but other than more cursing (and vile words and evil threats) nothing came of the matter.

We always drew a pretty good crowd, what else was there to do. The thing that struck me the oddest was that in the stands, all the white guys sat together, all the Hispanics sat together and likewise all the African Americans. The crowd was always for us, and derided the home team. It goes without saying that depending on race, two of the three sections hooted and made fun of anyone who made an error or an out.

Security wise, we were searched on the way in AND out. We were not allowed any gum (jambed the locks) or anything that could be construed as a weapon or turned into a weapon. The oddest part of the security was that behind the dugout there was a bathroom. The bathroom consisted of a toilet (just like every other toilet in the world) with the only difference being that it was just out there in space. No walls, no screens.....just a toilet in the middle of the yard, with a crowd of people in the bleachers. Needless to say it was not something one looked forward to using.

The wildest game and time on the island came after a game that went late. We missed the scheduled boat and were invited to eat dinner in the prison mess hall. The food was very bland, the company was chilling and I felt like I was in a James Cagney movie.