Our little junior pony ball field had just been finished. To celebrate the opening we were to have Satchel Paige come, in 1961, at the age about 60(?) to open the ball field in Rockford, Illinois. I was going to be a major league ballplayer, that's all I knew, and here we were on a warm, sultry summer night ... having our ball field opened officially by the legendary Satchel Paige. Only I didn't know much about Mr. Satchel Paige. Only thing I knew, for sure, was he had a fascinating name and he was supposed to be some kind of pitcher. Well, I learned both things to be true!
As I arrived at the new ballfield west of Rockford, Illinois, I made my way around the back of the stands, among the trees still standing as a reminder of the truly natural setting of our new field, sparkling with new lights having just been installed that day. I got a glimpse of an older black man changing clothes. At first I didn't think that much about it, then it hit me ... it was Mr. Satchel Paige, ledendary black pitcher, first black pitcher to pitch in the big leagues, changing from his "civvies" to a baseball uniform.
I'll never forget how the memory of seeing him has remained with me ... forever. It gives me chills down my spine, today, some 41 years later, to think about what I saw that evening. The stands of our small, but formidable, junior pony field were filled. Probably 500 people or so, a lot for that time and place, were on hand to watch Mr. Satchel Paige pitch. As he went out to the mound, I noticed he wasn't going anywhere near the 45 foot mound we used; nor the 54 foot mound used by the Pony League. No, he was going way behind both mounds, behind even the 60'6" distance from home plate ... used by major league pitchers. He pitched to batters from a spot about half way between the pitchers mound and second base.
The rest of the evening I was enthralled to see this older negro gentlemen, who I had only a little earlier seen changing from baggy pants and a large, somewhat loose fitting, white shirt with a straw hat into his baseball uniform. He came out to the diamond, spoke to the crowd for a few minutes, encouraging all to give for the benefit of the junior basebll programme, And then, the moment we all had been awating for, Mr. Paige wound and threw a wicked fast ball past the startled hitter. The crowd was both exhilarated and star struck at the same time. Mr. Sathel Paige, whatever age he was at the time, had arrived ... for us, his fans. I was made a fan of his forever that evening.
Later, after regaling us with some baseball exploits and the "glories" of Negro League baseball ... we went home. We went home knowing we had witnessed something special that night. As I left the Roy Gale parking lot, at the age of 12, I kept seeing Mr. Paige changing from baggy pants to baseball uniform, then coming on the field, smiling and waving to the crowd ... and then doing what he had done for likely 45 years of his life ... winding up and mowing down the batters. He was some pitcher. It was some memory. I shall never forget that night, nor the memory of one of the finest pitchers in history ... Mr. Satchel Paige.
» Steven Amidon is a writer and retired school teacher now living in Vancouver, British Columia (Canada) played organized baseball from the age of 5 up through university level at Whitewater State University, Whitewater, Wisconsin. The closest he came to his childhood dream of playing major league baseball was having 11 major league scouts come to his Pershing College (Nebraska) game in 1968. Norm Siebern was one of the scouts.
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Copyright © 2002 by Steven Amidon. Posted October 14, 2002.
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