Run Over by the Wagon

I enjoyed those few months in Stanton, but by that time I had received my draft notice and I knew I would have to go into the service in October so I was trying to savor my time while I could.

It was summer and in those days all communities had a town baseball team. Richie Ashburn of Tilden and Wahoo Sam Crawford were products of that system in Nebraska. Having done some dramatic work in high school and college, I fancied myself as a sports announcer. So I handled the mike at most Sunday afternoon games.

I don’t remember any memorable games, but I do recall a trick I played that could have cost me a black eye. One hot August Sunday the visiting team had an overweight catcher who made it to first base on what most players would have stretched into a double or triple. He was obviously laboring in the heat when he trotted to second as the next batter walked.

When the runner reached the mid-point between first and second, a dog walked by me in the grandstand panting in the heat. I put the mike to the dog’s mouth and the resulting “pant, pant, pant” was transferred in the crowd’s mind to the laboring runner. The player glared up at me but his anger must have subsided because he didn’t seek me out after the game. Maybe his team won.

I had one other experience, again involving alcohol, that has shaped my actions over the years.

A printer was employed at the paper who Jim had rescued from “demon rum” and kept on the wagon for a number of months. Perhaps because his mentor was gone and a 21-year-old was in charge, the printer fell off the wagon.

I came back to the shop about 8 p.m. on Wednesday after the paper had been mailed and found our printer sitting there drinking peach brandy. Why that particular variety of booze appealed to a recovering alcoholic I don’t know, but in my young and inexperienced mind, I thought I would use psychology on the old fellow to get him back on the wagon.

I thought if I would be a good fellow and have drink with him, I could cajole him and get him home without further damage. It didn’t exactly work that way. I was an hour late to work the next day with a terrific hangover and the printer didn’t show up for three days!