One evening in late May of 1962 I had gone with my Dad to watch an amateur baseball game at Island Park in Windom, Minnesota. I had just finished my freshman year of High school and about one week earlier I had played my last game of the high school baseball season (Minnesota high schools sponsor a spring baseball season in April and May). As a freshman I had played centerfield that season on the varsity baseball team, which sounds impressive until you realize that Heron Lake (my hometown) was, and is still, a relatively small community and the junior class that year was completely devoid of athletes. I don’t remember how many seniors we had, but the majority of the team was made up of freshmen and sophomores. We didn’t win a lot of games, but we did have fun. At least, I know I did. I loved baseball and I had come to love playing centerfield. At that time in my life I still had dreams of making it to the big leagues someday, and in May of ‘62 I thought I was on my way.
Early that evening I noticed that Dad was talking to a man that I thought I had seen before back in Heron Lake, but I didn’t really know. A little later my dad and the man walked over to where I was sitting and my dad introduced him to me. His name was Don Steen. Dad said he was the coach of the Heron Lake American Legion Baseball Team. Don shook my hand and told me that he had been watching me play that spring and that he was impressed with the way that I played centerfield. He asked if I had planned to play legion ball, as he would like to have me patrolling centerfield that coming summer. Being a farm boy back in the ‘50s and ‘60s I hadn’t even been aware that Heron Lake had a Legion team. I’m not even sure that I knew what American Legion baseball was, but I did know that I loved playing baseball and if this was a chance to play all summer long, I was all for it.
That was my introduction to Don Steen, a man who was to have a profound influence on my life. I played Legion Ball for Don for the next four years. From Don I learned many things. Always pay attention, always give your best effort, always run all out to first base, even if it’s a pop fly on the infield because you never know if the ball will be caught, never give up on anything, always throw to the right base, keep your head in the game, and, if you make an error, strike out, or make a bone headed play, “keep your dobber up!”
That was Don’s favorite expression. “Keep your dobber up”. It meant shake it off, stay positive and keep your head in the game. Just think about the life lessons that can be learned from those four little words.
When I turned 18 and graduated from High School my American Legion playing days ended too. I was off to college that year with plans and dreams to become a teacher and a coach. One early spring weekend during my freshman year of college I ran into Don and as we talked about my future coaching aspirations he asked me if I would like to consider taking the job as Heron Lake City Recreation Program Director in the coming summer. It would involve leading the town’s kids in various activities each day, including coaching the “mites” and “midgets”, Heron Lake’s version of Little League Baseball. He told me that he thought I would be a perfect fit for that job and he emphasized that it wasn’t just because I wanted to be a coach, but it was also because he felt that I had the right maturity and sense of responsibility to handle the job. I was pretty shy back then and I had never had anyone tell me such things. In retrospect, I think Don had the ability to see something in me that, up until then, had been hidden from everyone else. Don promised to give me as much help and advice along the way as he could, but the day to day job directing the program was mine.
He also told me that he was going to make me a co-coach of the Legion team, which he did. There were several times those two seasons when Don would say that he couldn’t make a game or practice due to other commitments and I would have to run the practice or manage the game myself. That always made me a little nervous because a number of the kids that I was coaching in Legion Baseball had been teammates of mine just a year or two before. Again, thinking back, I know that Don did that on purpose to just give me those experiences. The confidence that he showed in me by doing that was priceless. No one before that had ever put so much trust in me.
Eventually I graduated college and came back to Heron Lake in the summers and played on Heron Lake’s newly formed Amateur team, the Heron Lake Lakers. I never had enough confidence in my ability to play college baseball, so I never tried, but when the Lakers were formed I felt like giving the game a try again after four full years of not playing organized baseball of any kind. The first time I stepped into the batter’s box in a Laker’s game I recalled everything about what Don Steen had taught me about hitting. Hold the bat at about chest level, not too high, only big strong big leaguers can hold the bat high, keep your weight evenly distributed, keep your eye on the ball, when you start to swing stride toward the ball with your lead foot, shift your weight to the back foot, level swing, try to hit it up the middle. On the second pitch that I saw I hit a line drive past the pitchers ear and into centerfield. That was my welcome to Amateur baseball. I played two and a half seasons with the lakers and hit over .300 each summer batting lead-off and playing mostly at 2nd base. A younger, faster guy was now patrolling center.
Early in that third summer I decided to go to grad school and eventually met my wife, got married and never played baseball again, but I would see Don from time to time when I’d get back to the Heron lake area. The last time I saw him he was in his 90’s and in failing health. I was at the reception after my Nephew Logan’s high school graduation and Don and his wife, Laura (who had been my 7th grade English teacher) were there. I spent some time talking with them and had a chance to tell him what he had meant to me. I told him that he was the best coach I had ever had in any sport. That, though he had been a stickler for details and had been intense and demanding, he had also been positive and encouraging. I also told him, that at a time in my life when I needed it most, he had encouraged me, supported me and believed in me. I let him know how grateful I was for that and I am equally grateful that I had that chance to tell him so.
Don passed away due to complications of heart failure Wednesday night, at the age of 93. Since hearing that news it’s been hard for me to “keep my dobber up”, but I’m giving it an all out effort and I’m trying as hard as I can.
Early that evening I noticed that Dad was talking to a man that I thought I had seen before back in Heron Lake, but I didn’t really know. A little later my dad and the man walked over to where I was sitting and my dad introduced him to me. His name was Don Steen. Dad said he was the coach of the Heron Lake American Legion Baseball Team. Don shook my hand and told me that he had been watching me play that spring and that he was impressed with the way that I played centerfield. He asked if I had planned to play legion ball, as he would like to have me patrolling centerfield that coming summer. Being a farm boy back in the ‘50s and ‘60s I hadn’t even been aware that Heron Lake had a Legion team. I’m not even sure that I knew what American Legion baseball was, but I did know that I loved playing baseball and if this was a chance to play all summer long, I was all for it.
That was my introduction to Don Steen, a man who was to have a profound influence on my life. I played Legion Ball for Don for the next four years. From Don I learned many things. Always pay attention, always give your best effort, always run all out to first base, even if it’s a pop fly on the infield because you never know if the ball will be caught, never give up on anything, always throw to the right base, keep your head in the game, and, if you make an error, strike out, or make a bone headed play, “keep your dobber up!”
That was Don’s favorite expression. “Keep your dobber up”. It meant shake it off, stay positive and keep your head in the game. Just think about the life lessons that can be learned from those four little words.
When I turned 18 and graduated from High School my American Legion playing days ended too. I was off to college that year with plans and dreams to become a teacher and a coach. One early spring weekend during my freshman year of college I ran into Don and as we talked about my future coaching aspirations he asked me if I would like to consider taking the job as Heron Lake City Recreation Program Director in the coming summer. It would involve leading the town’s kids in various activities each day, including coaching the “mites” and “midgets”, Heron Lake’s version of Little League Baseball. He told me that he thought I would be a perfect fit for that job and he emphasized that it wasn’t just because I wanted to be a coach, but it was also because he felt that I had the right maturity and sense of responsibility to handle the job. I was pretty shy back then and I had never had anyone tell me such things. In retrospect, I think Don had the ability to see something in me that, up until then, had been hidden from everyone else. Don promised to give me as much help and advice along the way as he could, but the day to day job directing the program was mine.
He also told me that he was going to make me a co-coach of the Legion team, which he did. There were several times those two seasons when Don would say that he couldn’t make a game or practice due to other commitments and I would have to run the practice or manage the game myself. That always made me a little nervous because a number of the kids that I was coaching in Legion Baseball had been teammates of mine just a year or two before. Again, thinking back, I know that Don did that on purpose to just give me those experiences. The confidence that he showed in me by doing that was priceless. No one before that had ever put so much trust in me.
Eventually I graduated college and came back to Heron Lake in the summers and played on Heron Lake’s newly formed Amateur team, the Heron Lake Lakers. I never had enough confidence in my ability to play college baseball, so I never tried, but when the Lakers were formed I felt like giving the game a try again after four full years of not playing organized baseball of any kind. The first time I stepped into the batter’s box in a Laker’s game I recalled everything about what Don Steen had taught me about hitting. Hold the bat at about chest level, not too high, only big strong big leaguers can hold the bat high, keep your weight evenly distributed, keep your eye on the ball, when you start to swing stride toward the ball with your lead foot, shift your weight to the back foot, level swing, try to hit it up the middle. On the second pitch that I saw I hit a line drive past the pitchers ear and into centerfield. That was my welcome to Amateur baseball. I played two and a half seasons with the lakers and hit over .300 each summer batting lead-off and playing mostly at 2nd base. A younger, faster guy was now patrolling center.
Early in that third summer I decided to go to grad school and eventually met my wife, got married and never played baseball again, but I would see Don from time to time when I’d get back to the Heron lake area. The last time I saw him he was in his 90’s and in failing health. I was at the reception after my Nephew Logan’s high school graduation and Don and his wife, Laura (who had been my 7th grade English teacher) were there. I spent some time talking with them and had a chance to tell him what he had meant to me. I told him that he was the best coach I had ever had in any sport. That, though he had been a stickler for details and had been intense and demanding, he had also been positive and encouraging. I also told him, that at a time in my life when I needed it most, he had encouraged me, supported me and believed in me. I let him know how grateful I was for that and I am equally grateful that I had that chance to tell him so.
Don passed away due to complications of heart failure Wednesday night, at the age of 93. Since hearing that news it’s been hard for me to “keep my dobber up”, but I’m giving it an all out effort and I’m trying as hard as I can.
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