I’m just wondering what Dwight would think

I enjoyed a game recently at Harris Field on the campus of Lewis-Clark State. The American Legion team, the Lewis-Clark Twins, was playing in a tournament game in the Dwight Church Tournament.

I wondered what the man the tournament was named after would be thinking if he were in the stands watching.

Would it be the fact the Twins stopped wearing short uniform pants, a tradition he started in the 1960s and which lasted for decades? Would he comment on the “hustle” of the home team, harking back on the years his Legion team was known as the “Hustlin’ Twins”?

He might comment on the fact a pitcher allowed a hit on an 0-2 count, or the ninth batter got on base via a walk. During the game, I can still hear him say, “Let the ball hit the bat,” on a bunt attempt. “Just throw strikes,” to his pitcher who had a six-run lead. Also, many other one-liners that we, on the bench, were privy to. Sometimes he would visit pitchers on the mound, walking with his elbows outstretched, and say a few words, choice ones indeed. There were times after he departed the discussion and headed back to the dugout, the pitcher would turn to the catcher and ask, “Any idea what he said?”

But that’s what made Church so special in our eyes. It was the goal of most valley baseball players to one day make the “A” Legion team, as it was known then — to play for Dwight (we didn’t call him Mr. Church) and the Twins.

As a pitcher for Church in the 1970s, we had the mentality of finishing the games we started. There was no pitch count back then, though Dwight and assistant Jim Minnette kept pitching charts. I remember a regular-season game when I had a rough start at Yakima.

The Beetles were the usual postseason rivals for the Twins, and even regular-season games could get competitive. Down 7-0 in the third inning, Dwight came out for a “talk.” As an 18-year old know-it-all, I didn’t pay any attention to him. As he left the mound, I said, “You got to move the outfielders back!” He did a 180, about 6 feet away and came back on the mound. “Hell,” he said, “they are straddling the fence now!” That was the end of the conversation, and my day. We lost big.

After the game, we loaded up in vans to head back to our hotel. I happened to be in the van Dwight was driving. Before he put it in gear, he turned around and called out to me, “Grubber, I got the game ball for you.” That kind of puzzled me, and he tossed me a ball he had found somewhere that had been run over by a lawn mower. It was mangled. With

a toothpick in coach’s mouth, along with a sly smile, we drove off. I still have that ball, as a reminder to move forward in life, learn and not look back.

That was Dwight. If he’d been at the Legion game the other night, I would have again shared that story with him. He would have remembered, and still smiled.

During the game, he might have remarked at how few players were in uniform. For sure less than 18. That is the magic number we knew from the age of 15. As players, we knew only 18 players “made” the Twins every year. At that time, it was rare for 15-year-olds to make it. If they didn’t, they had to play in the Babe Ruth league. At ages 16 and 17, if you did not make the cut, you played on the “B” Legion team, the Cubs. Eighteen-year-olds who did not make the Twins roster at that time played in the Senior Babe Ruth league, or just went to work.

I would have shared with Dwight my feelings as a 17-year-old. After a year on the Cubs, I thought I had a good chance to be a Twin. At that time, the names of the players from each team were printed in the paper. My brother, Wayne, brought the paper to me, and as I looked for my name, I found it ... on the Cubs again. To this day, I have a scar on my right hand from where I punched a hole in my wall. That is just how much we wanted to play for the “A” Legion. It took a while to realize that, at least, I was still playing baseball that summer — for a team that would win a “B” Legion state title.

One year there were so many players that turned out to play, the Legion committee formed a second “B” team called the Suns. It hired Lewiston High School teacher Jay Henry from his summer job as a house painter to coach the Suns. They were really never referred to as the “third” team, or as players who didn’t make the cut, but everyone knew it. But, in a season I still think would make a great movie, the Suns won the “B” Legion state tournament. I got a first-hand look that year as the Suns’ bat boy. What an interesting team, a team that melded together through fistfights and a lack of a schedule to finish on top.

Church was the athletic director at LHS when Jay Henry coached different sports. I’m sure they talked about the Suns a lot. During Church’s career, the Legion committee was made up of a few dozen people. They made the decision to finance a third team. The committee during Church’s time was a steady group of backers who spent a lot of their free time getting sponsors and raising money for the program.

I’m guilty of not putting much back into the program after my playing years, and am happy for those who have. Right now, there appear to just be a few very hard-working people doing the job that needs many more hands to keep this program alive. Players now have to pay to play, either by their own funds, selling season tickets, or by holding raffles and auctions.

I wonder if Church would draw certain conclusions about a lack of commitment to the program from those who played, or just by fans to get involved. You always see some parents of current players helping out, but when their sons are gone, so are they. I counted less than 50 people at the Twins game I attended, less than if just parents and siblings were there.

This is a program that in 1973 hosted the American Legion World Series. Somehow, 4,000 fans jammed into Bengal Field one night to watch Puerto Rico defeat Memphis in the title game.

I guess there are just so many alternative activities now that occupy our time. Families working many hours that don’t always coincide with game times. There are more boating opportunities. The finale of “The Bachelorette,” or in my case, Mariner baseball on television summon our attention. Maybe blame global warming, brewfests, Netflix or something else that keeps us away.

Church might wonder why all the top high school baseball players aren’t on the field. Besides finances, two- and three-sport athletes who have college ambitions start focusing on one sport. AAU and summer football camps take precedence over participating in summer baseball.

The rift between Lewiston and Clarkston hasn’t helped. I will totally agree that Church, being the LHS baseball coach, maybe favored his players when it came time for the cuts. There are still some who think certain players should have made the team, albeit mostly parents. To see the valley root as one again would be great to see, and create more interest. Even an annual high school series between the teams might help.

I know times change, and believe me, I am probably more guilty than most former players of not supporting the Twins. Usually I will make it to a couple of games per year. It’s not that expensive — $20 gets your family in for all the Cubs and Twins regular-season games. They have won five state championships, and have made it to the Legion World Series twice since 2000.

I believe Church would recall some highlights. Maybe the state championship teams he played on in the late 1940s, or the four teams he coached to the American Legion World Series. Would he mention Clarkston’s John Gosse, who won 42 games in four years, or Lewiston’s Tim Kampa, who had 38 pitching victories in three?

Maybe he would recall the game where his pitcher, Sam Canner II, threw 19 innings in a 1-0 loss, only the third defeat in Canner’s 32 decisions. Which team would Church say was the favorite of his more than 20 state champions? Or which team survived the test of an 80-game schedule the best?

He might mention some of the players he coached on the “A” team for four years, as he did from 1939-42. Steve Arnold, Dale Callahan, Jerry Chavez, Garry Jones, Bruce Kipper, Matt McLaughlin, Chuck Miltenberger, Jim Minnette, Jim Smith, Gosse, and Canner II.

As the recent Twins game ended, I sat in the stands for a few moments, and watched a few fathers, coaches, and others prepare the field for the next game. I remembered how important the little things in baseball were to Dwight. Raking the dirt the right way, straight foul lines down the basepaths, watering down the dry spots, moving the runner, taking a pitch, the hit and run, and taking extra bases. I wondered if fans were talking about the game, where to eat, or what they recorded on TV. After games, Church had postgame huddles, but not to yell at us — rather, to remind us of the next practice or game time.

He would have the “rookies” load the bat bag, other players double-check the dugouts for equipment, and pitchers run laps after a game. When we won, running was fun, and even after a loss, at least you were sweating with friends. But we played baseball that day, and it didn’t matter how we did, we played baseball. And it was fun. I have the baseball that proves it.

Thanks to Dwight and all those who have kept the Legion team alive since 1939. The team has recorded almost 3,000 wins, and let’s hope for a lot more.

Grubb is a local sports historian. He can be contacted at statmandenny@gmail.com.