__________________________________________________________ F A M E F O R U M N E W S L E T T E R N A T I O N A L W O M E N 'S B A S E B A L L H A L L O F F A M E National Syndicated Column (contents are protected) Copyrights(c), NWB Hall of Fame, 1998-2002 TXU877085, TXU959430, TXU973266, TXU013972, TXU986753, TXU949885, TXU004037, TXU146092. Issue Number 00173 __________________________________________________________ Volume V, Number 02 Publisher and Author January 23, 2002 Richard C. Jaffeson Washington, DC HallFame@usa.com http://www.eteamz.com/hallfame __________________________________________________________ 2001 NWB HALL OF FAME INDUCTIONS BALLENTINE, GEYER, AND DIDRIKSON __________________________________________________________ A. COLUMN: LEONAS DE LAS PLAYAS With both eyes gently closed in restful reflection, a faded slight smile signified internal contentment while the rapid movement of thinning gray lashes revealed he was watching a favorite scene of young majestic lionesses at the beginning of another day playing peacefully like kittens in the calm coolness of morning along wide bleached-white beaches on a very distant but never forgotten coast in Africa. The surf could be heard continuously rolling onto the shore, and there was the distinct taste of saltwater spray over the ship's rail and deck. In his favorite dream, he could not discern where the beaches began or ended along this mystical coast with its sandy edges that extended and disappeared beyond perception, but that did not matter. The ship slowly rocked in time with the natural flow of the coastal waters, which at that early hour shifted from sea to shore with the morning tide, and the remembrance of that consistent rhythm brought further comfort to his spirit. On those beaches the lionesses appeared, and the light-brown fur of their wooly coats began to glisten in the rays of the morning sun, so clean, fresh, and pure. The scene was always exactly the same as before. He smiled and watched his pride of lionesses carefully bite, tug at each other, and paw with claws retracted and measured strength. They would pounce and wrestle on the wide sandy beaches. Occasionally, a yelp or low roar would carry across the water over the sound of the surf at the shore and spray on the ship as one of them would nip or slap too hard in their delightful games where no one kept the score. They were like a baseball team, he thought, and assumed the pride was always together wherever they traveled, played, and slept. Time was endless here in his restful sanctuary, and he could visit this scene whenever he wanted and still smell the fresh pine tar and pungent damp oakum from the wooden deck and side planks on the able square-rigger that took him around the world during his youth, which seemed more than one hundred years ago, but that would never be forgotten. In this state, he always remembered, and as long as he could recall this favorite scene his spirit would remain young and strong once more, his confidence would be restored, and that could be seen in the sparkle of his eyes when he was awake. It was the land breeze of early morning that stirred him this and every day, as it did off the coast of Africa in his youth. Back then the breeze brought the richness of the vast interior continent, and his senses could easily discern the mixture of humid vegetation, warmth of decay, and moisture from the daily tropical rain. On that distant coast, he would be up before sunrise and with the diurnal wind to watch this scene unfold. His pride was always there, too. Yes, the lionesses... In his village, as it did every morning, the land breeze moved towards the water's edge from the sugarcane fields across the time-worn dirt paths and out to sea. The predictable current announced to his restful soul that daylight approached, as it would to anyone who knew its movement and lived in places near the sea around the world. This wave of air would proclaim the day before the first rays of light reached over the horizon. Life was about to begin. Although, he did not want to leave his lionesses, he knew that they would always be there again tomorrow morning before the sun would shine on the beaches. "Santiago, Santiago? Estas alli?" There was a slight tapping at the cottage door as Manolita waited for his reply. He stirred, blinked his eyes, sat up, and stretched his back and arms to shake off the cold of morning. He unrolled his trousers that served as a pillow, and walked towards the door, "I am here my Manolita, just a moment. Mi amiga, espera un momento a este viejo." "Tu no eres va viejo!" She insisted, "You are strong as a colt in the springtime, and the wisest of all our fishermen. Tu eres el pescador mas sabio en la aldea." "You flatter me too much, Manolita," he was forced to reply, and as he washed his face in a small basin of water he said only to himself, "There are many more capable than I, but it is true that I am resourceful, know many tricks of the sea, and have much resolve. These are my strengths." "My parents sent me over," she continued, "to see that you are better and well today, and invite you to the Terrace for coffee and breakfast." The Terrace was a small bar and cafe which featured a broad veranda enclosed by a fine wooden rail with open vistas on three sides capped by a peaked roof and was filled with many tables that faced the inlet and sea. In the early morning before their daily tasks, many of the villagers would enjoy fine home-grown Cuban coffee often with thick slices of bread. Afterwards, Martin, the owner, would place bright linen cloths on the wooden tables, increase the prices, and wait for the tourists from nearby Havana to arrive. Manolita carefully did not mention the cause of her concern for Santiago had spent three days previously alone at sea in his skiff attempting to bring in the largest fish anyone had seen in their village. It measured eighteen feet in length, and was estimated at more than 1,500 pounds, but no one could judge the weight for certain. After the sharks encountered his catch, all that remained were the backbone, head, and tail from the prized marlin that had been lashed to the side of his skiff, which he sailed back to the village inlet. His singular struggle with the huge marlin and ensuing bitter battle with the sharks had exhausted him. He slept soundly for an entire afternoon, through the evening, and into this morning. "Santiago, don't go back to sleep on me." She shouted through the loose boards of the closed door. The cottage was more or less a one room shack containing a bed, table, two chairs, and short four-drawer dresser in one corner. For heating and cooking, there was a charcoal pit carved out in a round depression on the floor at center of the room. There was no need for heat because of the latitude, except on the coldest nights in January. Although rusty colored, a solid corrugated tin roof provided adequate protection from the rain. "No, my precious one, I am fully awake and fine. Give me time." He explained as she waited outside, "I will join you and we will walk together to the Terrace and have breakfast on the veranda. First I must find the recent papers from Havana so I can read to you about the baseball. DiMaggio is himself again, and I must learn what he and the Yankees have done while I was at sea." He knew that the great DiMaggio had a bone-spur, which healed, and wondered exactly what that was, and how it affected his game. Santiago suffered many injuries as a result of his life at sea, but never had a bone-spur, and what it was, he had no conception. He assumed it was painful, and had kept the great DiMaggio out of the line-up for several days, thus the Yankees also suffered. After washing he put on a loose-fitting shirt, which although clean and once colorful, it was faded by the sun and patched so many times that if it was unfurled and attached to a staff it would look like a permanent flag of surrender. Santiago opened the front door, and together they walked the short path from his cottage to the Terrace restaurant, and it was well before the time for any tourists. "When I was your age, the great John McGraw would come here and sit on the veranda of the Terrace." Santiago began. "And, I will show exactly where, his favorite table is still there near the telephone, and has not changed. McGraw was difficult when drinking, becoming rough and outspoken. He would talk on the phone and mention the names of baseball players and race horses. We would watch and listen." "Who do you think was the greatest manager," Manolita inquired, "McGraw then or Durocher today? I know that they both came here on their vacations during the winter, and wanted to hire our players but could not. Pappa told me that." He thought for a moment, and responded, "No one can compare to the great McGraw, but that was many years ago, and times have changed. Today I admire Lopez of Cleveland. True, he does not have the best players, but he makes excellent use of the talent he has, and that makes all the difference. I admire his intelligence and resourcefulness! And, he knows when to make the right moves with his players." "I doubt if he, Lopez, would ever visit us here." he continued, "Those days are long gone, and there are no tourists from the States any more. Did you know that his father was a cigar-maker from Tampa? I believe, he would understand us and our village." They reached the veranda, and Santiago selected a table along the rail overlooking the sea. Once situated, Manolita went to see Martin for coffee and bread, and in departing she mentioned, "I will get what we need. Do not worry, we have credit here." And, he began to read the newspapers. "It says the Yankees won, again!" he stated when she returned, "I have faith in the great DiMaggio. True, there are many other players on the team, but his being well brings them all success. He had a bone-spur, but that has healed." Santiago said nodding his head, "Do you know what a bone-spur is?" he asked Manolita. They both shook their heads in unison without an answer. "It is of no matter, he is well again, and can hit the baseball." Santiago continued, "Of all the players and managers, I wish the great DiMaggio would come to the Terrace. We could ask him to go fishing with us. They say his father was a fisherman, and he would certainly understand. Just think if he did go out with us, we would have that to talk about for the rest of our lives, and no one could ever take that away!" He continued, "We will not see any more players or managers from the States down here for games or on vacations, especially since they moved our Sugar Kings from Havana to Jersey City. I do not even know where this Jersey City is. Do you?" "Los Reyes del Azucar were unstoppable and won the International League World Series last year before they took them north. Maybe that was why they were moved, they could not be defeated!" "You remember, don't you, when the trouble started last year in El Gran Estadio de la Habana, it was in all the papers during a July holiday game between the Sugar Kings and Red Wings managed by the great George Sisler. There was gun fire in the stadium, Frank Verdi and Leo Cardenas were hit. The great Sisler vowed afterwards that he would not return to Havana with his team, but arrangements were made to complete the season. Our Sugar Kings were victorious the remainder of the year. You know, I think it was because the other teams' players did not want to get shot." "To open the next season in Havana, el Presidente himself came to throw the first pitch between our Sugar Kings and Red Wings. I saved the picture, and he was smiling. Someone said that the Washington Senators offered him a $5,000 contract to pitch for their team. I wonder what would have happened back then if he had accepted? He still considers himself to be an accomplished pitcher, but I could tell from the photo he holds and releases the ball too high in his right hand. It is too easy to see what he will be throwing. And, I noticed he wore two wrist-watches on his left hand, which is most unusual. Why would a pitcher, or anyone for that matter, wear two watches? We are so poor here, we can't even afford one!" "I could have used a watch when I was at sea with the marlin." This was the first that Santiago spoke of his three-day ordeal with the great fish, and she allowed him to continue. "If I had one, then I would have known what time it was and how long I had the hook in him. True, it would not have changed the outcome, but at least I would have known." "Do you plan to go out today?" she inquired. "No, not today Manolita, my precious one. I have been 89 days at sea, that is enough for right now. Today I shall rest." "If the marlin had been smaller, I might have been able to bring him in, but then the accomplishment would not have been as great. There was no way of knowing. When I first saw him jump, I could not believe my eyes at his size, larger than the skiff itself." "But, you were not defeated by the great fish," she attempted to comfort him. "You were overcome by the sharks, los tiburones." "Yes, that is true. There were too many, and they came by night. I could not defend the marlin, and those sharks eventually won. When they did, I spat out a strange substance from deep inside with a coppery and rusty taste, and never experienced anything like that before. But, I bear them, los tiburones, no ill-will, for it is part of their nature, man or fish must eat to survive and we all take our chances. Alone on the sea, one understands nature better. Reality is exactly what one sees, no more or less, without the myths or illusions found on shore. You must believe in yourself, and what you are capable of doing, for in life there is no one else upon which to depend." They drank their coffee and watched as the other boats departed the inlet for the abundant waters of the Gulf Stream and the sun rose in the east. Santiago, warmed now by the coffee, was still extremely tired from his ordeal. He closed his eyes to rest with the newspaper folded under his hand keeping it from blowing away in the breeze. Manolita had her own daily chores to be completed, and silently departed the veranda. A bus arrived at the Terrace from Havana as Santiago peacefully slept. The tourists noticed the morning tide start to retreat towards the sea and wash the refuse from the inlet's beach, and that morning it also included the remnants of a long great fish. Santiago did not notice for his eyes were closed in reflection, and his spirit and confidence were being restored as he watched another scene on a distant shore off the coast in Africa. B. COMMEMORATIVE BASEBALL BUTTONS Collect your official commemorative buttons with the names of players and managers inducted into the NWB Hall of Fame and annual award recipients. For more information and an order form, please see: http://www.eteamz.com/hallfame C. NATIONAL SKILLS CHAMPIONSHIPS For 2002, applications from participants are due by July 15. Requirements are described on the form, and any regulation field can be used to determine performances. For more information and an application, please see: http://www.eteamz.com/hallfame/formskills D. NWB HALL OF FAME INDUCTIONS For 2002, nominations for Inductions into the NWB Hall of Fame are due by September 30, and can include current or previous players and managers. For more information on nominations, please see: http://www.eteamz.com/hallfame/forminducts E. MVP AND MANAGER AWARDS For 2002, MVP and Manager of the Year nominations are due after the conclusion of the season and by December 31. For more information on nominations, please see: http://www.eteamz.com/hallfame/formsawards F. NWB HALL OF FAME BUILDING CAMPAIGN For more information and fund contributions, please see: http://www.eteamz.com/hallfame/purposes G. TIMELINE January 21, 1899 Lew Fonseca birthdate, MLB player. January 21, 1945 Johnny Oates birthdate, MLB player. January 21, 1957 Geena Davis birthdate, movie actor. January 22, 1857 NABP adopts 9 inning game rule. January 22, 1949 Mike Caldwell birthdate, MLB player. January 23, 1947 Kurt Bevacqua birthdate, MLB player. January 23, 1962 Jackie Robinson elected to MLB Hall of Fame. January 24, 1955 Required 20 second rule for pitchers. January 24, 1968 Mary Lou Retton birthdate, Olympic Medalist. January 26, 1924 Cal Abrams birthdate, MLB player. January 26, 1935 Bob Uecker birthdate, baseball announcer. January 27, 1899 Bibb Falk birthdate, MLB player. January 28, 1847 George Wright birthdate, MLB Hall of Fame. January 28, 1958 Roy Campanella automobile accident. January 29, 1878 Barney Oldfield birthdate, racecar driver. (source of one Walter Johnson nickname) January 29, 1945 Tom Selleck birthdate, baseball actor. January 29, 1960 Steve Sax birthdate, MLB player. January 30, 1918 Barbara Tuchman birthdate, Pulitzer Prize. January 30, 1930 Sandy Amoros birthdate, MLB player. January 31, 1919 Jackie Robinson birthdate, MLB Hall of Fame. January 31, 1931 Ernie Banks birthdate, MLB Hall of Fame. January 31, 1947 Nolan Ryan birthdate, MLB Hall of Fame. H. FAME FORUM RECENT ISSUES The following are the most current issues of Fame Forum. Volume V, 2002 Season Publications Number 02, Leonas de las Playas (confidence), January 23. Number 01, That Was the Year That Was (2001), January 1. Volume IV, 2001 Season Publications Number 34, Hit 'Em One for the Lord (Christmas), December 24. Number 33, Recipes for Success (Fereno), November 24. Number 32, Mitts, Mets, and Mays (Geyer), November 16. Number 31, Bee as in Baseball (Ballentine), October 24. Number 30, 2001 NWB Hall of Fame Inductions, October 18. Number 29, Return to Eden (Pacific Coast), October 4. Number 28, The MVP of MVPs (Presnell), September 14. Number 27, Hall of Fame (short form), September 5. Number 26, Hall of Fame Inductions (form), August 21. Number 25, National Skills Championships (form), July 8. Number 24, The Times Are Always Changing (Senators), June 2. Number 23, From Green to Green (Didrikson), May 26. Number 22, Still the Kid Again (Williams), May 19. Number 21, Who's Gonna Finish Second? (Didrikson), May 4. Number 20, Along the Continental Divide (Borders), April 27. Number 19, Just the Facts Ma'am (homeplates), April 20. Number 18, George's Song (Zaharias and Didrikson), April 13. Number 17, National Skills Championships (form), April 9. Number 16, Diamonds are Forever (relief pitchers), April 7. Number 15, Creating a League of Her Own (Didrikson), March 31. Number 14, First You've Gotta Have Heart (Senators), March 23. Number 13, O'Brien to Ryan to Goldberg (movie review)), March 16. Number 12, Heroes, Role Models, and Friends (teammates), March 9. Number 11, Catching Those Old Linesides (Williams), March 3. Number 10, The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea (weather), February 23. Number 09, The Spy That Shagged Baseball (spirit), February 16. Number 08, Remembering a February Birthday (Anthony), February 15. Number 07, International Fan of Mystery (baseballs), February 9. Number 06, Oranges, Palms, or Grapefruits, February 3. Number 05, Red, White, and Blue Honors (buttons), February 1. Number 04, Our Favorite Filly (Hialeah), January 27. Number 03, Running for the Roses (Florida), January 22. Number 02, Some Like It Hot! (winter training), January 12. Number 01, That Was the Year That Was (2000), January 6. For a complete listing over the last four years, please see: http://www.eteamz.com/hallfame/news I. FEATURES The NWB Hall of Fame offers these programs for participants in regulation baseball with organized leagues. Applications that further describe these programs are available by email. Managers and coaches are encouraged to recommend recognition awards and suggest articles on their team, players, or events. NATIONAL SKILLS CHAMPIONSHIPS Application are available at any time and are due July 15. NWB HALL OF FAME NOMINATIONS Nominations for the NWB Hall of Fame are due September 30. MANAGER OR TEAM AWARDS Manager, coach, or team award requests are due December 31. MOST VALUABLE PLAYER AWARDS Team selections for player MVP awards are due December 31. _________________________________________________________ NATIONAL WOMEN'S BASEBALL HALL OF FAME Richard C. Jaffeson, Executive Director PO Box 15282, Chevy Chase, Maryland 20825 HallFame@USA.com http://www.eteamz.com/hallfame "National Women's Baseball Hall of Fame" is a registered trade name with the State of Maryland. MD672265, October 19, 1998. "National Women's Baseball Hall of Fame" is a Trademark/Servicemark pending with the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office. Programs, articles, and contents presented herein are protected under provisions of the U.S. Copyright Office, Library of Congress. Fame Forum registrations are listed below: TXU877085, TXU959430, TXU973266, TXU013972, TXU986753, TXU949885, TXU004037, TXU146092. Copyrights(c), NWB Hall of Fame, 1998-2002 __________________________________________________________ The National Women's Baseball Hall of Fame, an independent not-for-profit organization established September 1998, is located in suburban Washington, DC. The objectives are to support the achievements of women in regulation baseball, identify individual and team successes, and maintain major records to enable future players to improve performances. Individual capabilities and team participation learned in baseball by positive encouragement and instruction develop character and build confidence. All Americans should have the opportunities to obtain such experiences, as part of enjoying our national pastime, --Baseball. Hall of Fame programs are open to women that are at least 18 years of age with current or previous participation in regulation baseball with organized leagues. Programs are: 1. National Skills Championships conducted in the spring, 2. NWB Hall of Fame Inductions for players and managers, 3. Manager or Coach of the Year or team recognition awards during the fall, and 4. National MVP Awards for the season also submitted in the fall. Contact the NWB Hall of Fame for more information and applications. hallfame@usa.com Complimentary email subscriptions are available on request. ___________________________________________________________