THE SEASON

Center fielder Gordon Barna       "Go big Red!" bellows a scruffy old man wearing a paddy cap and standing behind the Manville bench at LaMonte Field on a crisp afternoon in mid-April. "Bring em home, Barna," clamors Coach Martin with three quick claps, one for each runner on first, second, and third base.      Our tall center fielder Gordon Barna had been a clutch hitter since stroking several home runs in our Little League all-star championship run five years earlier. Gordon's jocular verbosity had gotten him into periodic fist fights with teammates, but his consistent strong play kept him in the starting lineup for Bound Brook football, basketball, and baseball.      Our western neighbor liked to beat Bound Brook about as much as we strove to topple the wealthy township schools of Somerset County. Manville was another industrial town on the banks of the Raritan River, though trading asbestos at Johns Manville for our aniline dyes at A...

Coach Arnie Martin       "Watch his move, Bates," booms diminutive manager Arnie Martin from the third base coaching box after I tap a drag bunt to start our second game of the season. "He does it in reverse," expounds first base player-coach Tom Moriau as I take my lead, planning to draw a throw or two from the Immaculata pitcher before stealing second base. "Back!" "Where did that come from?" I groan trudging to the dugout after being picked-off for the first time since sophomore year.      This was an inauspicious start to our first road game of the season against a top ranked team in Somerset County. Immaculata was a regional school that siphoned players from surrounding Catholic dioceses include the twin boroughs of Bound Brook and South Bound Brook. The players exuded a confidence that we Brookers interpreted as the arrogance of the privileged. We hated them.      As the lead-off hitter, I made a point of getting on base to start a...

Rob Corsini making a throw in front of the ivy-covered right field fence      “Hey Rich hey Rich, hum fire hum fire, hey Rich hum fire hum fire,” I chatter from shortstop as our lanky pitcher takes the stretch position to hold the Dunellen High School runner on third base with two outs in the top of the seventh and last inning. “All right Jeskie,” calls catcher Matt Vischetti pointing an index finger down toward the right-handed hitter’s feet. Hmph he groans delivering the pitch and the batter strokes a hard grounder to the left side of the soggy infield.        It had been such a rainy April that our opening day game at LaMonte Field had already been postponed twice. Much is made of the home field advantage and baseball statistics barely bear it out. The home team wins fifty-four percent of games, an advantage attributed to lack of travel, a home crowd, and batting second for a last shot at winning. What mattered more to us players was knowing the q...