by nohesitation » Tue Jun 09, 2009 9:04 pm
He’s that guy sitting in the back row, with the swimmers trench coat, gloves and sunglasses, and his hood pulled over his head. He is as strong as an ox, but direct and friendly: He played in the minor leagues as a catcher until his thumb injury.
He has four daughters, all played softball. He has been coaching travel ball for 30 years. He has granddaughters in every division. Two of his daughters are coaching travel. His wife left him years ago because of softball. He rarely shaves. He owns a 1984 porche, red, in fair condition. He works out of his house in sales.
He lives in a two-story tract house in Orange County. The front of the house has a cracked stucco wall, leaves everywhere, with the grass un-cut. Entering his house all you see is boxes: unused uniforms, visors, coaches’ jerseys, sales brochures. As you pass the living room and enter the family room, the first thing that hits you is the glare from the three large rolling marking boards labeled “Jackee 96” , “Emma 95” and “ Sophia 94,” his three granddaughters in travel. There’s an old TV set in the corner with some cooking show on, an old leather couch with a large coffee table, papers everywhere, a laptop, an ashtray, and empty beer bottles.
“I have been loving you too long to stop now.” Otis Redding