It was late in the summer of 1992 and the summer baseball league was almost over and we were playing in a tournament in Oak Grove, Missouri. The tournament was double elimination so we had to lose twice to be out and go home. Our team had beaten all the others so it came down to one game between us and a team from St. Joseph, Missouri. We had to beat them once more to take first and move on in the state tournament. The first championship game turned into a loss for us, but it wasn't over yet because it was our first loss so we had to play them again for first place. This is where it all came out, our talent, our hard work, our will to win.
All of my buddies from summer baseball were on the team we had put together: David Peterman, Chris Zeller, Elliot Jackson, Mike Kolen, Shawn Bergman, Dennis Lawrence, Brad Quick, Toby White, and my cousin, David Maynard. This team was special because it was the first time most of us had ever played together. We had the talent; we worked hard; and we damn well had the will to win. Our coaches were Bill Bergman and Dave Peterman--two men whom we had played for before so we knew what they wanted from us.
As the game started we took the lead quickly. Brad Quick was pitching the game of his life, even though the game before he had taken a line drive to his face which broke his jaw (although he would not find out that fact till later in the week). All of us were fielding and hitting like we should have been. Then came the top of the 5th inning. The score was 5-4, our lead, with one out and man on third. Brad checked for the sign, then threw the pitch. The batter knocked it out to shallow left center. Being in right field I ran to back up our center fielder, Mike Kolen, when suddenly I saw him and my cousin, David, the shortstop, collide with David falling quickly from Mike's elbow. As Shawn Bergman, who was playing left field, ran towards Mike to back up his catch, he saw the same thing I did. My cousin was kneeling with his face in his hands. As he looked up at Shawn and me blood oozed out of his mouth with his two front teeth laying in his hands and part of his tongue hanging from the rest. An ambulance was called and my cousin was taken away.
After that inning and the replacement of Maynard with Dennis, the score was 5-5. The next inning each of our teams scored one making it 6-6 as we went into the last inning. After two errors by Dennis, the new shortstop, the team from St. Joseph took a two run lead as we went into the bottom of the seventh inning.
The inning started off real well with Brad hitting a double and putting himself in scoring position. The came Dennis Lawrence. When he came up to bat and hit the ball, I don't know how far he hit it. I just knew he hit it far. Our team jumped as it flew over the fence and into the parking lot. Once the field umpire waved the signal for a home run we all ran to home plate to congratulate Dennis. Then suddenly the home plate umpire yelled to the field official telling him it bounced over, giving Dennis only a double and keeping us from tying the game. I didn't understand how the home plate umpire standing several hundred feet away could see better than the umpire standing in the outfield. As it seemed to get worse the next two batters flied out, but at least Dennis was able to advance to third base.
Standing in the on-deck circle, I didn't realize what the two outs ahead of me had meant. But as I walked towards home plate I listened to the crowd and my teammates. I was our only chance to at least tie the game and give us another chance to win. Looking down at Bill Bergman I heard nothing he said for my mind was elsewhere thinking about what would happen if I made the last out and sent us home disappointed. As I dug myself into the batter's box trying to show no fear, I could hear nothing. Everything seemed to go silent. It was the pitcher and me. One of us would fall while the other triumphed. The first pitch went by--ball one! The second pitch--ball 2! The third pitch I fouled out of play. The fourth pitch--I fouled behind the backstop. The fifth pitch--ball 3! The count was now full and as I looked the pitcher in the eyes I could see fear. He was afraid and I was afraid. All I needed was one ball and I could walk to first or I could get a hit and score Dennis.
The sixth pitch came, and I fouled it down the 3rd base line almost hitting Dennis and our coach. The seventh pitch I fouled off over the fence by first. (God, the pressure was incredible!). I could not lose the game for us. I would feel so ashamed if I did. The next pitch I fouled behind home plate. But as I turned around I watched the catcher back up, throw his mask off and look to the sky with his glove open. As I watched it come down I knew it was over. Then I saw it bounce out of his glove and land behind him. I could not believe this was happening. A few more foul balls went by as the pressure of striking out or making any out grew inside of me. Then that last pitch came. I stood there and as it went by I felt it touch the sleeve on my jersey--ball 4! I did it. I outlasted him. 'Oh, my God!" I thought to myself as I trotted down to first with all the noise of people screaming overwhelming me. Then came Mike Kolen. He now had the pressure of the game riding on his shoulders. I felt so relieved. A few bad pitches and I was standing on second base. But then Mike hit it and it sailed towards center field causing everything to grow quiet. I took off running knowing if I scored the game was over and we would win, but as I rounded third I saw that it was caught and that was the last out.
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