The Finale: If You Want to Coach High School Baseball You May Have to Jump Through Some Hoops First...
I was excited to start my new teaching job at Tri-County. On the first day, I was handed two very thick three-ring binders full of plumbing curriculum, the size you'd see at the parts counter at a car dealership. Each one contained dedicated curriculum for Sophomore and Junior classes, which I'd be teaching. Each section was labeled by week, so there was no floundering.
At Southeastern, the kids decided what they wanted to do, and as long as they completed the prerequisite to that project and the instructor signed off on it in the student's workbook, they could do whatever they wanted. At T-C, my entire class did the same shop project, and I could dedicate my lesson to that specific project. It was much better.
I got to know the kids really fast, and they seemed to like me. Changing schools was a good move, and the extra $15,000 helped with the family budget.
There were several football players in the shop and a few baseball players as well. Dan was a junior, and he played both. He was a great kid and a class clown. I didn't know what "crop dusting" was until I had Dan as a student. His flatulence could clear out an area of the shop in a hurry.
Dan was clearly one of my favorites, but when he fucked up, I had to hold him accountable…
Getting a coaching position in high school sports is very political. The Athletic Director has to like you, and the Principal has the final say. So, if you want to coach, you have to kiss a few rings and jump through some hoops first.
When the baseball coaching positions were posted, only one spot was up for grabs, and that was freshman. I didn't mind; in fact, I was excited to work with the younger kids who were playing high school baseball for the first time. I knew I could help them a lot.
Of the candidates, I was easily the most qualified. But, when the position was awarded it wasn't me who got it. It went to a guy who had worked at the school in security for 25 years and stepped up to coach freshmen baseball a few years ago when no one else wanted to. He announced he was retiring at the end of the year and that he wanted to coach freshman baseball one last time. The AD gave it to him, and I was the odd man out…
As disappointing as that was, I understood the AD's decision and figured it would give me more time to spend with my own three boys.
The baseball field at Tri-County was just below a driveway that wrapped around the back of the plumbing, electrical, and HVAC shops. I'd take a seat on the grass outside the plumbing shop and watch a few innings of the varsity baseball before I headed home.
It was a weird field that was probably squeezed into the only available spot when the school was originally built back in 1977. The right field fence couldn't have been more than 240 feet away, which is closer to Little League distance. The fence remained shallow until it reached a spot in right centerfield where it grew to an acceptable distance for high school baseball. They put up a pole at that point, and the ground rules, as explained to coaches, were that anything hit over the fence to the right of the pole, no matter how far, was a ground-rule double. It was like playing sandlot on a makeshift field. Although it seemed odd to me, everybody was used to it.
The only game I went to that I stood behind the backstop instead of watching from behind the plumbing shop was against Southeastern. As close as I had become with the kids at T-C, I still looked forward to seeing the kids from Southeastern, especially the ones I coached.
When the yellow school bus arrived and the bi-fold door opened, I moved closer to watch the kids get off. Coach got off first and gave me the "Mussolini Snarl" which made me chuckle. I was so over him. Each kid gave me a low, inconspicuous wave and a smile as they got off and headed to the field. It was tough, but by then, my heart was with T-C…
Dan was T-C's starting shortstop. He was really good, but he didn't have the range Alejandro had. Alejandro resembled Ozzie Smith and Dan, Cal Ripken. Dan had a great arm from deep in the hole, and for this game, he was on the bump for T-C.
I was shocked when Alejandro put on the gear and went behind the dish to catch. Coach took him out of shortstop and turned him into a catcher, which in my opinion, was a mistake.
As much as I didn't like Coach, T-C's coach was equally arrogant and displayed many of the same qualities as Coach. He was another varsity baseball coach who was full of himself. I could see it a mile away.
At one point, with two runners on and only one out, Dan was in a difficult spot. Bryce came up to the plate. When I was at Southeastern, I was the Hitting Instructor for all three levels: freshman, JV, and varsity. Bryce was a sophomore then and a big kid with a big bat and an excellent glove at the corner infield positions. I urged Coach to bring him up, but he wouldn't, maybe because it was my idea.
Dan fell behind in the count, 2-0, and as he stood on the mound and got his signal from the catcher, Bryce started wiggling to distract him. T-C's coach got pissed and yelled out, "What do you think this, fucking Little League!"
Bryce called time, stepped out of the batter's box, and gave T-C's coach a long hard look. Bryce was a big boy. Six-two, 230 lbs. He got back in the box, and Dan threw a strike that was in Bryce's wheelhouse. I never saw a high school kid hit a ball that far. It landed on the roof of the HVAC shop, some 350 feet away, but because it was to the right of the pole, it was ruled a ground-rule double. It had to be the longest double in the history of high school baseball.
Standing on second base, Bryce stared in at T-C's coach, grinning from ear to ear. And good for him!
The next inning, Dan came up to the plate with no one on and two outs, and he got one in his wheelhouse and drove it to the deepest part of left-center, just to the left of the pole, for a solo home run. He ran the bases with a big smile on his face, and after he touched home, he headed to where I was standing and said, "Mr. Levine, you're going to all my games. That was my first home run!" I yelled back, "I got kids of my own, Dan. I can't be at all your games."
I can't even remember who won. I think all the kids did, and the two coaches were the only losers.
I stood by the bus as the Southeastern kids got on, and they all said, "Good to see you, Mr. LeVine." Of course, Coach got in his final "Mussolini Snarl" before he got on the bus. I never saw him again.
A few years later, after Coach retired from teaching, a new AD was hired at Southeastern. The first thing he did was fire Coach. Then he took over as head football coach himself.
Coach was hired to coach football at another high school and another one after that, but he wasn't the coach they all thought he was.
I never coached baseball again, little league or high school. I remained focused on teaching plumbing.
Several years later, I got a call from Dan. He wanted a review class because he was going for his Journeyman Plumber's license. I was partnering up with another plumbing instructor at the time and doing 6-hour review classes. The problem was that Ron always cut the classes short, ending with, "You guys seem to know everything pretty well. I don't want to confuse you, so we'll end it here." It was always a couple of hours short of the six hours the kids were paying for.
We held the classes at Ron's house so it was his rules, a lot like "anything hit to the right of the pole…"
As Dan was leaving, I could tell he was disappointed, just as I was. I caught him before he got in his truck, and I told him to call me before the test and that I'd give him 2-3 hours of my time for free at my house to make up for it.
Dan called a few weeks later, and we set up a block of time one Friday night, after work, from 6 to 10. I prepared for it, drilled him, and pretty much exhausted all the code questions I knew would be on the test.
At 10:00 p.m., Dan was standing at my front door, ready to leave, when I asked him when he was taking his Journeyman's test. He said, "Tomorrow morning at 9:00…"
I was shocked. "You should've told me, Dan. I would've had you out of here earlier."
"No, Mr. LeVine. That was my plan. Review with you till 10:00. Go home. Sleep. Wake up and take the test while everything is still fresh."
"Well, Dan, you better call me afterward and tell me if you passed." He said he would.
Late Saturday morning, my phone rang. It was Dan. He passed the test and became a Journeyman Plumber!
That was the best ending I could hope for…
(Dan is married with a beautiful daughter, and he owns and operates his own Plumbing & HVAC Company)
And in the end…
*All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental…