STARTING IN RIGHT FIELD ............

Strange, the things that we remember, as we grow older. This memory takes me back to the year 1954. Or was it 1953? 

I was at the try outs for the local American Legion team. I was one of the lucky ones. I had an "in." My uncle was the coach. It was surely a no-brainer. I was very confident that I would  be picked for the team.

My problem came very quickly. The first time they sent me up to take batting practice. I was perhaps the youngest player trying out. That fact had not bothered me until i took the first swing against that older player, the one they called the pitcher.

Hir first warm up toss breezed right by me. As well as the second and third pitches. I quickly realized that I was overmatched. After about ten more pitches, my uncle took me off the hook by sending up another batter. I had embarrassed myself, and my uncle, with that less than stellar performance.

I had a bad feeling that my baseball career might be over, before it began.

But my uncle was there for me. He had an idea. At my age, I was eligible for both the Legion, and the local Babe Ruth teams. With one call, he got me a tryout with the Eastern Oil team. Their first practice was the next evening.

I breezed through that first practice. Hit the ball with authority, and got the word, I would be the starting right fielder. I was too young to realize that most right fielders, in those days, were perhaps the weakest players on the field.

As that season rolled along, it became quite apparent that our team was a power house, as we sat atop the standings throughout the season.  I batted eighth in the order, right ahead of the pitcher. Again, it never crossed my mind that I was not that highly regarded as a hitter.

As a team we went on to capture the league title, with ease. We owned the County Playoffs and were on to the State Tournament. We were in full command, and just one game remaining for that State Championship.

The game was set for Sunday afternoon. To be played at Cape Elizabeth Field. And to add to the excitement, for the first time in history, the game would be broadcast on local radio.

Talk about heady stuff. This was the ultimate for a bunch of young kids who began playing the game, way back before Little League started, on the sandlots in the Greater Portland-area.

On a bright and sunny game day, even my mom and dad showed up. The whole family was there. Pre game warmups were completed. The excitement was building, and then came the word, the moment I have never forgotten.

Coach Pinky Willard called me aside. He minced no words. I'll never forget his message. "Johnson," he said. " Johnson, I'm starting Coughlin in Right. You haven't been hustling lately. Sorry, your on the bench today."

Sure, there were other days, other great games, over the ensueing years. But never another Title Game. Never another game broadcast on the radio.

I'm not sure I ever fully understood his message that day. I mean, I was about 13, or 14 years old. How can a kid that age not hustle? Or how could I find out, years later, that that kid Coughlin was Coach Willards nephew?

Nowdays it is just a memory. Something that happened some 55-years ago. But somehow it still hurts.

By the way, our team won that State Championship Game that day. And, I guess, I was a part of that outcome!