Charlie Spikes

Have you ever heard the name? I imagine you would only know the name if you were a fan of the Cleveland Indians in the mid-70s. Although he played for Cleveland, Detroit, Atlanta, and the dreaded and oft-hated New York Yankees during that decade, he really only had two almost-good years--1973 and 1974. Having had 23 and 22 HRs during those two years, which led the team (neither George Hendrick, nor the coolly named Oscar Gamble did better), Charlie then evaporated into relative obscurity.

However, for me, he was more than a man with two decent years.

In 1973 my family moved to Bedford, Ohio, a suburb of Cleveland. I was nine years old. For the next six years of my life, I spent a considerable amount of time with a cousin who indoctrinated me in the world of professional sports--football, basketball, and, mostly, baseball. It's not that I had never seen professional sports before (my father was a huge Boston Celtics fan, and I cannot tell you how many Sunday afternoons were spent with the Celtics on the television and my dad sleeping in The Chair), but my cousin played a part in instilling in me an absolute LOVE for the game.

The previous summer we had lived near Springfield, Ohio. I played on a little league team in Christiansburg, Ohio. We wore yellow hats. I watched bugs and birds in right field.

In Bedford I played on baseball teams, too. In fact, I distinctly remember being put on an all-star team one year. I had been a second baseman all year, but I ended up playing left field for a bit in that game. One memory I have of those years of little league in Bedford was the time I raced behind second base to catch a pop fly, leapt, and fell on my shoulder. I cried. I can't even remember whether I caught the ball.

In my first year as a little leaguer in Bedford, we were given a choice on what we wanted to make our team name. We choose to be called the "Spikes", because Charlie Spikes was currently The Man. In fact, some called him the Bogalusa Bomber. I have no idea what that means, meant, or from whence it came. Ah! Google rules. He was from Bogalusa, LA.

In fact, here's a good little bio, along with pictures of the baseball cards from his two best years:

http://aardvarktradingco.wordpress.com/2009/01/29/the-%E2%80%9Cbogalusa-bomber%E2%80%9D/

To my ONE fan on this site, I've ordered a little something (used) from Amazon. I hope you enjoy it. If it's a worthy read, let me know.

I Love Baseball

The other day my family and I were driving to see my daughter at college. My wife and I were talking about one thing or another, when a mini van drove by on our left. We have some fun reading other people's license plates when we are on the road--typically pointing out ones that are particularly amusing. This one, though, wasn't going to be interesting to anyone but myself in our van. The first three characters were "CEY". My mind jumped backward about thirty years in only a heartbeat.

I pointed out the license to my non-baseball-loving wife. I told her this guy played third base for the Dodgers during a few glory years. He played with one of the longest running infields in the history of the major leagues.

She just looked at me. For a moment.

Then she said some things I had not thought of ... ever.

"You really ought to write about baseball. You love baseball. You always have. You enjoy writing. Why not combine the two and do something fun with it? Even if it's just a blog."

I had to think about that. What man doesn't want his wife to kindly encourage him to think about, write about, do something more with something that he loves? I always like talking about politics and religion, but baseball? You kidding?

Ron Cey. Third base. Los Angeles Dodgers. Played with Steve Garvey, Bill Russell, and one of my early favorites--Davey Lopes. They really were the longest running infield ever in baseball. That's something. I never did get why Bill Russell made it into this mix. I know he was a good fielder, but did he own a bat?

I'll have to look up some things. I'm sure Russell couldn't have been the lifetime .168 batter that I think of him as, but he never was very good with one. Still, there he was. (Okay, I looked up some things since writing this. The most astonishing fact of all is that he led the NL in intentional walks in 1974!!! What?!?! A lifetime .263 hitter whose greatest HR year was SEVEN??? I'd guess that he batted eighth--right in front of pitchers.)

I was never a Dodgers fan. I'm not really a big fan of anything that comes from Los Angeles... except, maybe, the Angels of today. But, the year that I became a fan was 1975--and Andy Messersmith was in the headlines.

My love for baseball started with the Cleveland Indians. I was living in a suburb of Cleveland, and spent a good bit of time with a cousin whose family had been in the Cleveland area for longer than we had. They were die-hard fans. I learned about baseball from this cousin and his dad. I heard about Herb Score, Bob Feller, and all the old greats.

Most importantly, though, I started listening to baseball games. Every game night, my older brother and I would have the Indians on the radio. We'd set the radio to shut off in 30 minutes. The game wouldn't be over when it went off, so we'd have to turn it back on and set it for another 30 minutes. We would listen as our favorite players would play ball. John Ellis, Buddy Bell, Duane Kuiper, Rick Manning, Don Hood.... all of the old Indians.

More on the Indians another time...

I love baseball. The numbers, the old names, the radio games... I love baseball.