Monday, October 18, 2010

The Back Stop Was My Day Care Center

Riding on IH 10 West of Beaumont you will see a magnificent new football complex.  Amid some controversy, the football stadium and natorium was included in a rather large bond issue to build new schools for the school district.  The stadium was named to honor the school superintendent.  It is officially known as the "Carroll A. "Butch" Thomas Educational Support Center".  It is now called "The Butch" by some.  Reflecting on the name decision to call it an "Educational Support Center" took me back to my youth and our "Support Centers"

For a group of boys growing in the 1950s all that was needed was a baseball, a bat and enough gloves for half of the kids.  In our day we always managed to have a baseball.  It was  brown from repeated use and sometimes the threads were breaking or coming unwound.  One bat was available, maybe two.  They both probably had some small nails where they had been broken.  Alvin Stephens had the best bat.  George Fortune got some gloves from his Uncle the Coach and several of us would provide the balls.  The baseballs also had many scratches from repeated foul balls hitting the asphalt or shell roads or striking the back stop.   You could play baseball without a backstop, but it was not desirable.  Without one the game slowed down as we had to stop and retrieve errant pitches and fouls that would otherwise be contained by the back stop. 

The boys of Highland Ave. were fortunate.   We had a back stop.  It was located on the school grounds of C.W. Bingman Elementary school where most of us were students.  It was this back stop that served as the focal point from the time we were nine or ten years old until we got too big to play on the improvised diamond.  We never had enough for two nine player teams, but had enough to play.  We had to improvise some rules like; no right fielder therefore any ball hit there was foul.  The bases were bare spots in the dirt. Close calls were mediated in a fair manner such that a dispute never interfered with the game. 
There was a core group of boys; Bobby Katz, George Fortune, Bobby Kinnear, Buster Coats, Alvin Stephens, myself and my little brother, Chub, that would assemble at the backstop every day during the summer.  A few of us would make phone calls to try to get others to play.  Many mornings I rode my bike about two miles to pick up Don Ray so he could play with us.  Others made phone calls and often Russell Reich, Andy Moorefield, Johnny Richardson and James Kelsey would play.  There were others from time to time, but you could usually count on 10 to 12 each day. 

Each game would start with the traditional team selection.  The game couldn't begin until the dew had evaporated from the grass or the ball would get soggy.  We would play until there were too few of us left to conduct a game.  From the back stop we would usually ride our bikes to Jones 7-11 or Mazzu Bros Gulf Fillin' Station for a Mr. Cola or Grapette or some other real cold beverage.  We would buy some baseball cards and chew the bubble gum.  We were either Yankee or Dodger fans and emulated our favorites. I was Roy Campanella, George was Duke Snider and so it goes.  The next day it was meet at the back stop and do it all over again. 

The funny thing is I can't remember ever asking permission to go to the backstop or it never occurred to me that my parents might disapprove.  In the summer they went to work and we went to the school grounds.  Baseball was our baby sitter and the Back Stop was the Day Care Center. 

It was at the Back Stop that we developed our social skills.  We were competitive and wanted to be the best.  We learned that you must compromise or seek consensus to have a good game.  No one person was always right.  No one got into trouble. You needed everyone to play as fielding two teams was more important than  skill levels.  No adult supervision was required.  It was baseball and the rules of the game were all that was needed.  That is where we learned to play and respect the game.  It was FUN!

None of the gang made it to the majors.  In fact, only about half of us even played in high school.  But of the names I can recall there are five Engineers, a CPA, A journeyman Electrician, two educators and several that I have lost complete touch.  All have lived successful lives, raised families and been contributors to society.

Out of curiosity, I recently decided to check out the back stop.  It, or a replica, is still there.  Right on the corner of S. Kenneth and Winfree.  However, I don't think that it gets much use as a Day Care center anymore as what used to be the field is now  a parking lot. 

The Back Stop

Maybe "The Butch" will develop young men and women in it's role as an Educational Support Center, I dunno.   What I do know is The Back Stop and others like it all over the country did just that.
It is on that note, that I am leading a campaign to name the back stop pictured above as the   "George Wayne "Buddy" Fortune Back Stop and Day Care Center". "The Buddy"

2 comments:

  1. Jim, this is your best blog post yet. I agree with everything you have said. Your son and I also had this privilege down at the ole' Bevil Oaks First Baptist church, and the swimming pool. I think that style of freedom died with us. The 24-hour news cycle, blonde-dead-girls, and sex-offenders have ruined growing up for all future generations.

    Keep up the great work, Jim. Steven R.

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  2. Although I was a few years behind your group, we had the same experiences at the same locations. I grew up on Winfree ST. and we would even haul the lawnmower from the house and mow an infield to play. Summer was for baseball, flies and skinners if you didn't have enough to play a game, football in the fall, and basketball sometimes on the old asphalt court that had shell in it and would eat the hide of a basketball, and the bottom of your Converse Allstars or you US Keds if you had a pair. We would walk or ride over to Mazzu's for a drink of cold water at the outside fountain. If you had a few cents to spend we might stop in at VJ's. Great times and great place to grow up. David Travis

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