Spring Break
Dave's Place - Playing baseball with The Banana Man
David Cordill
Issue date: 9/29/08 Section: Sports
Now in this case, grandpa didn't have to construct anything extraordinary because he already had a mitt he said I could have. True to his word, he did.
The trouble was the glove was tmade for Bigfoot.
I could scoop out a low throw from the shortstop and not realize I had the ball in my possession until I got home later that night.
The Banana Man and Jumpin' Joel were probably in their mid to late-twenties at the most. I'm not sure if they got conned into coaching the team, but the owner of the radio station was the team's sponsor.
They weren't what you would call civic leaders or members of the Rotary Club. They were a couple of happy-go-lucky small town DJs with, I imagine, a few recreational substances at their disposal.
Parents did not know what to make of them. One of them showed my mom his appendix scar at the county fair and told her it "happened in 'Nam."
Neither of the two seemed to be uptight about winning or overly concerned with run production, defense or any other fundamental of the game. But they acted like they were having a good time and it rubbed off on the rest of the team.
Once, after a rare win, The Banana Man had all the players come up to the station so he could put us on the radio. Everyone was really excited because KDKD reached out all over the county. It was a pretty big deal to us.
I had gotten a couple of timely hits in the game so instead of introducing me as "Slim" on the air, he called me "Boog Powell" after the power-hitting Orioles outfielder of that time. And I remember feeling really good about that.
It wasn't the same as being called Bob Allison, but it's still a memory I treasure.
dcordill@unews.com
The trouble was the glove was tmade for Bigfoot.
I could scoop out a low throw from the shortstop and not realize I had the ball in my possession until I got home later that night.
The Banana Man and Jumpin' Joel were probably in their mid to late-twenties at the most. I'm not sure if they got conned into coaching the team, but the owner of the radio station was the team's sponsor.
They weren't what you would call civic leaders or members of the Rotary Club. They were a couple of happy-go-lucky small town DJs with, I imagine, a few recreational substances at their disposal.
Parents did not know what to make of them. One of them showed my mom his appendix scar at the county fair and told her it "happened in 'Nam."
Neither of the two seemed to be uptight about winning or overly concerned with run production, defense or any other fundamental of the game. But they acted like they were having a good time and it rubbed off on the rest of the team.
Once, after a rare win, The Banana Man had all the players come up to the station so he could put us on the radio. Everyone was really excited because KDKD reached out all over the county. It was a pretty big deal to us.
I had gotten a couple of timely hits in the game so instead of introducing me as "Slim" on the air, he called me "Boog Powell" after the power-hitting Orioles outfielder of that time. And I remember feeling really good about that.
It wasn't the same as being called Bob Allison, but it's still a memory I treasure.
dcordill@unews.com
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