I didn’t always feel this way. Growing up in the 1950’s in rural Minnesota basketball and football were the sports that I first came to know and appreciate. My father’s interest in sports was boundless and, like all young boys are prone to do, we followed his lead and became interested too. I remember vividly each Saturday in the fall listening to Golden Gopher football games on the radio and, in the cold winter months sitting around the kitchen table at night listening to broadcasts of the Minneapolis Lakers or the basketball Gophers. These were the big three of Minnesota Sports at the time. In the 1950’s there were no Minnesota Vikings and Gopher football reined supreme in the fall. The Laker’s wouldn’t move to Los Angeles until 1960 and, as the sole professional sports franchise in the state, they were a very big deal down in southwest Minnesota. In our house, at least, the basketball Golden Gophers were just as highly esteemed, if not more so.
As essential as following the exploits of the Gophers and Lakers were for me and my dad and brothers in those days, still nothing could come close to the anticipation and excitement of the State High School Basketball Tournament in late March. We followed the reports of the regional tournaments and poured over the Minneapolis Tribune sports section during the week leading up to the tourney, familiarizing ourselves with the names of the teams, players and coaches that would make up the eight elite teams that would play on the raised court of Williams Arena on Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights. For us this was the ultimate sporting event and for three nights each March everything was put on hold while we listened to the broadcast of the State Tournament.
It was during these years that I began to dream the dreams of all boys. To be the star! To some day play in the state tournament and then, later, run wild on the thick grass of the old brick house, Memorial Stadium, scoring touchdowns for the Gophers or dazzling the basketball crowd at Williams Arena while wearing the Maroon and Gold.
Never, during those years, did I ever dream of playing baseball. Baseball was a minor, very insignificant, sport, I thought. My older brother and I did have a baseball or two, and a bat. He had a catchers mitt and I a glove (for you Dodger fans, it was a Carl Furillo model) and we would play catch sometimes. I didn’t really enjoy it. The ball hitting that glove stung my hand and if the throw was low and you didn’t catch it on the bounce you were liable to end up with a bloody lip, or worse. No, baseball wasn’t for me.
Lot’s of kids at school always seemed to be interested in the World Series in the fall, but I only had a moderate interest. I knew the names of the Major League teams and who a few of the players were but the fall was for football not some silly game played with a bat and ball.
One day in October of 1960 I opened the pages of the Tribune sports section to read the latest Gopher football news and there on the front page was a headline story about the Washington Senators moving their franchise to Minnesota. My reaction? Hmph, why is the Gopher football news on page two?
The newly named Minnesota Twins opened the 1961 season in New York and defeated the vaunted Yankees 6 to 0. I was mildly interested. After all, this was a Minnesota team. My loyalty to the state of Minnesota required that I at least show some interest, even if this was baseball. I had read about the team prior to the start of the season trying to familiarize myself with the names of the players and trying to get inspired enough to care, and I did care enough to think that it was nice that the team had won their opening day game against the Yankees. “Nice” is word that perhaps adequately sums up the mildness of my “passion” for this new sports diversion that had come to our state in the spring of 1961.
It has been said that people's lives can be changed in an instant. Something of major significance can, out of the blue, just happen and when it happens your life is changed forever. For me it happened on an April Sunday afternoon in 1961. April 16 to be exact. The Twins, who had won two and lost one in their first three games of that first season, were in Baltimore to play a double header against the Orioles. We had all gone to church that morning and after dinner my dad sat down in his recliner to watch the baseball game. I decided that I would try to watch the game too. The state basketball tournament had been played a few weeks before and with no basketball or football to watch I was going to be bored anyway….might as well be bored watching a baseball game.
Being the visiting team, the Twins came to bat first. The Oriole pitcher that day was having a hard time throwing strikes and he walked the Twins young shortstop, Zoilo Versalles to start the game. That was followed by another walk to center fielder Lenny Green. I’m pretty sure that about then I yawned and thought how boring this game of baseball is. Watching the pitcher and the catcher playing catch just didn‘t compare to the exciting action of a basketbal or football game. I was not impressed. How can people watch this stuff? When the third batter, Don Mincher, also drew a walk I was ready to go outside and watch the dandelions grow, and then up to the plate stepped this big guy named Bob Allison who the announcer said had been a star fullback at the University of Kansas in his collegiate days. I remember thinking that if this guy had been a football player then I’d better stay and watch until his at bat was over. A football guy at least should be worth watching. Good decision. I don’t remember what the count was on Allison when it happened, but all of a sudden the big guy put a swing on the ball that sent it soaring high and deep into the left field stands! The announcer, probably the legendary Ray Scott, proclaimed “A Grand Slam Home Run for Allison and the Twins lead 4 to 0!” And back home in our living room on a farm in southwest Minnesota, a fan was born. To solidify the deal, Allison hit another homer, a solo, in the 6th inning and the Twins won 10 to 5.….and I was hooked. To this day I still believe that the most exciting thing in any sport is a grand slam home run!
I’ve been a huge fan of the Minnesota Twins ever since. Bob Allison was my first baseball hero and he soon was followed by a young left handed pitcher named Jim Kaat. Over the years the list of the names of my favorites has gotten quite long. There was Killebrew, of course, and Oliva, Carew, and Versalles from those early years. I predicted back in 1981 that the core of young players coming up through the farm system were going to be great, maybe even World Series great, and in 1987 Hrbek, Gaetti, Puckett, Viola and others proved me right. I’ve experienced the joy and satisfaction of the winning seasons and the misery and bitter disappointment of the losing ones. But I’ve been loyal to the cause since that glorious day in April of 1961.
In Florida today the sun must be shining. The sky is blue and the grass is green at the Lee County Complex in Fort Myers where the Twins will gather for spring training. Next week a passerby will, no doubt, hear the sounds of a bat on a ball and of a ball being smacked into a leather mitt, and feelings of happiness and hope are sure to fill his heart. The 2014 baseball season is just around the corner. Life is good. Play Ball!
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I enjoyed reading this, Dane. I'm not quite sure when my love for of baseball started, but there's a good chance that it occured in the fall of '87.
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