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Sports


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This rite of passage involved a right,
​a left and another left 

It was rush hour in a small town.

I waited for the only other moving car to find a parking place and then I parked mine.


I was hungry and there was but one eatery open—a bar. I walked in. Hamburgers were being made. There was enough grease in the air that I gained two pounds by inhaling deeply. I ordered a burger. The bartender told me that for an additional $1, I’d get a flyswatter. 


The man seated next to me was welcoming. He had that old-man smell, which a man of any age can acquire unless he bathes regularly in AXE body spray.


He told me he’d stopped at the local hardware store, but both employees were on a cigarette break. He’d stop another day. There were 600 people in his town before the hardware store opened. Now the population was 600 and a hardware store.


He admitted he’d used the flashlight in his cellphone to look for his cellphone. “Welcome to my age,” he laughed uneasily. He talked of other rites of passage from his life.


On my way home, I thought about his stories and my mind dragged one of my rites of passage from the mists of time. It was the year my neighbor Crandall’s nose glowed. A firefly had flown up it. I’d witnessed history in the making. 


The boys around my age in our farm neighborhood had all obtained bicycles. The bikes gave us the means to explore and spread our mischief. There was a rumor that the bicycles had kickstands, but we never used one. We either tipped a bicycle on its side or jumped off it, allowing the bike to go on by itself until it hit something and stopped.


We rode uphill and we rode downhill before we pulled alongside an old bridge and looked down at the river. We were performing
primitive streaming. 


It was then and there we’d decided to do a frightening, but we hoped fulfilling thing. How do males know when to do something stupid? It’s instinctual.


It was a state law that every farm driveway had to have a dog at the end of it—usually the size of an NFL linebacker that didn’t conceal its hatred of bicyclists. One place had what I called a hot dog because it was a wiener dog. He was underslung, but being built that way did nothing to curb his hostility. The little demon could nip me on the ankle only when I hit the lowest point of my downstroke on a pedal.


A neighbor’s lifestyle had reached mythical proportions. I try not to judge others in a way that I’d never want to be judged. He had his ways. We all have our ways. One thing I could say was that no one ever called him canine-free. I knew he’d had 40 puppies on his farm at one time. I was told he had 75 dogs at minimum. There were stories of his dogs chewing tires flat and chasing bicyclists across three states.


We were going to ride past his driveway lined with boy-eating dogs, most of which were part alligator. It’d make men of us. We were eager to become men because it was hard work being boys.


As we climbed onto our bikes, I said, “Let’s saddle up and ride, pilgrims.”


I’d watched too many cowboy movies.


We rode like the wind. We’d been taught moderation in all things, but that didn’t apply when riding past snarling dogs with drool strings longer than we were tall.


The dogs saw us. We saw the dogs. We were mysterious knights riding trusty steeds. The mongrels were protecting their territory. It’d be a rumble on the gravel that future generations would speak of while gathered around campfires.


We rode toward the hounds, knowing they might be Sirens luring land sailors to their doom. In the blink of an eye, we had ridden to beat the devil past a dangerous driveway and suffered no casualties. 


It was both a happy ending and a significant rite of passage. We emerged from that experience as mature and accomplished men.


Not really, but we had three of the boys place in the Tour de France while riding 3-speed Schwinns.


​©️Al Batt 2023

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1. Name the New York Mets relief pitcher who tore his right patellar tendon while celebrating Puerto Rico’s win over the Dominican Republic in the 2023 World Baseball Classic?

2. What 2000 Kentucky Derby winner was sold to a breeder for a record $70 million?


3. Name the left-footed punter who played for the Green Bay Packers (1983-84) and Minnesota Vikings (1987-89).


4. Racecar driver, designer, engineer and inventor Bruce McLaren hailed from what country? 


5. In 1919, the Houston Buffaloes became the first minor league team to affiliate with a Major League Baseball club when they made ties with what team?


6. What boxing manager and trainer handled the careers of champions Floyd Patterson, Jose Torres and Mike Tyson?


​7. What trophy is awarded annually to the most outstanding college football player who began their college career as a walk-on?

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1. Edwin Diaz.

2. Fusaichi Pegasus.


3. Bucky Scribner.


4. New Zealand.


5. The St. Louis Cardinals.


6. Cus D’Amato.


​7. The Burlsworth Trophy.

© 2023 King Features Synd., Inc.
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Telegraph-Herald Sports Editor Jim Leitner’s excellent article on the recent passing of former Dubuque Packer baseball star “Deacon” Jones rekindled wonderful memories for yours truly. Jones passed away in mid May at age 89. He’s the only player in Midwest League history to hit .400. 

In the mid 1970’s, I was three years into my sports broadcasting career, having taken over for KDTH radio Hall of Famer Gerald “Red” McAleece, a pioneer in covering live sports events with his play-by-play wit. The “Ole Redhead” covered the Midwest League Class “A” Dubuque Packers in the 50’s and 60’s, as did Pat Fleming who I broke in with at Petrakis Park on 4th street, ultimately sharing play-by-play responsibilities with Fleming’s son, Tim.


I had the pleasure of interviewing Deacon Jones a couple times on his swings through Dubuque when he served as hitting coach for the Houston Astros and San Diego Padres. Jones had an engaging personality, loved talking to the media and more so, the fans. His big broad smile fit well with his relaxing approach to the game. He told me he was always comfortable in the batters box and conveyed the how and why to the talent he tutored, including former Astros Hall of Famer, All Star and Dubuque Packer super star Terry Puhl. Puhl played one season with the Packers before hitting the fast track to a 15 year major league career. Deacon Jones positively affected many young players during his lengthy stint in professional baseball. We were blessed to have Jones and General Manager Johnny Petrakis put Dubuque on the baseball map, along with many others, including local talents Mike Weeber and Mike Fleming. 


I’ve said often the last fifty years, that calling professional, college and high school baseball games in this town has made me a much more prepared and better play-by-play talent for Hawkeye football and basketball. With 20-30 seconds between pitches and endless rain delays, this great game forces you to develop a personality and imagination.


​Red McAleece once told me, “Son, when calling a game, you better have a sense of humor if you want to keep your audience, because there will be days when you get your _____ kicked!” Red was right.

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Grandpa’s Helmet was Worn by One of the Four Horsemen!

Maury, Grandpa heard a TV sports analyst commenting, recently, about great college football traditions. When he mentioned the four horsemen of Notre Dame, (ask your dad about them) I immediately thought of you because it caused me to think of a grade school memory which I think you’ll enjoy.

During the “roaring twenties” (mom & dad will explain) the Notre Dame football team had, probably the most famous backfield ever, called the “four horsemen.” One of them, the fullback, was Elmer Layden, who after his playing days became the football coach at Loras College in Dubuque (then Columbia) for a short time.


When Grandpa was in seventh grade in 1937 our grade school football coach was Fr. Albert Hoffmann. (He later became the “most decorated chaplain” of WWII). He “made me” his quarterback and gave me a book to read with the title “How to Play Quarterback”! He gave me an oral test (yes, Maury, on a Saturday morning!) to check on how much I had learned after reading it. Apparently I passed!


Fr. Hoffmann was a friend of the athletic director at Columbia College (his alma mater), who informed him that Elmer Layden, after leaving Columbia, left behind the helmet he had worn when playing for Notre Dame. When Fr. Hoffmann learned this he arranged with the athletic director to loan our football team the use of this helmet for the football season. As our coach, he told us that after every game he would name the most “outstanding player” on our team and that player would have the honor of wearing Elmer Layden’s helmet in the next game! Grandpa received that honor one week the following year when I was in eighth grade!


To this day Grandpa remembers how Fr. Hoffmann, our coach, used this to motivate us and how it felt wearing Elmer Layden’s helmet in a football game! Maury, hope you enjoyed this.


​Much love, Grandpa

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