Some Childhood Memories

I played little league baseball as a youngster. One team was coached by a local real estate legend’s son, Leo.

Leo was an older man (Probably in his early 20’s) who impressed us with his great wealth, at least he drove a Continental Convertible. He would, occasionally, treat us to something after a hard fought game. I remember one particular time that we rallied in the last inning and won by a little league score of 19 to 18, or something like that. I do remember that I drove my best friend, Jeff, in to win the game and we were all feeling pretty good about ourselves. We were feeling even better after Leo said, “That deserves a treat” and asked the parents if he could buy us something at a local beef sandwich place.

I was about 8th in line at the counter and I heard everyone in front of me saying, “I’ll have a Coke please, I’ll have a Coke please.” (For cola’s you said Coke there had been no law suits yet demanding that an establishment serve Coke or advise what alternative they carried). I was determined to be different, I loved Coke, but I didn’t want to say the same thing everyone in front of me had said.

I was getting closer to the front of the line and I couldn’t think of anything, root beer? No. Ginger ale? No. Strawberry? Yeah, Strawberry! Should I say strawberry soda, or strawberry pop? I think pop, soda sounds too much like my cousins from New York, I’ll say pop.

I can hear you, why was I making such a big deal about ordering a pop. To tell you the truth I really don’t know. I guess that’s what you concern yourself with before you acquire mortgage payments, kids and the other things that keep us up at night now.

I got to the front and for some reason said, “Strawberry soda please.” I gasped, because I was expecting everyone to tease me about saying soda instead of pop; which was the common Midwestern term.

The waitress brought a large tray filled with colas. I thought she forgot me. I was starting to get upset. Everyone would finish their pops and have to wait for me. Remember, I didn’t have a mortgage, I had to worry about something! Well, something much better, and much worse happened. I did not get my strawberry pop. I got a very large glass with three scoops of ice cream, whipped cream, a couple of wafers, and a few cherries.

I literally ran to Leo. Coach! I am so sorry! I just wanted a strawberry pop. I’ll share this with everyone. My face was as red as the syrup. Leo just laughed- remember, he was rich. I did share it, but Leo kept an eye on me next time he treated the team.

Here’s another story from that team. I had a decent arm for my age group. I was trapped at first base or the outfield because I was left handed. At a practice I was playing first and I took a throw from the outfield, pivoted and threw one of our faster runners out at home. Leo was impressed and said, “Phil, I think I might try you at pitcher one day. How would you like that?” I said sure, I just wanted to play. I thought he meant I would practice pitching the next few practices and he would evaluate me.

In our next game we were up by a few runs but our pitcher started the fourth inning by walking two guys. Leo walked out of the dugout and waved to me. I came running in from left field towards first base. Neil played first and pitched; I assumed he was going to have Neil pitch. No. Leo caught me and said he wanted me to pitch. Hey Coach, can’t we talk about this? Leo smiled at me. You’ll be fine Phil. Just throw to the catcher’s mitt.

I got an 0-2 count on the first batter. That was the highlight of my day. I hit him in the head to load the bases. Walked the next guy to bring in a run. I did not retire a batter, and gave up the lead before Leo did have Neil pitch. That was the end of my pitching career, it’s a shame too because even though I’m over 60 I bet I could help the Cubs. They are always looking for a good lefty.