New Posts from Tim Sommer's Book.

[weams]

http://forum.orioleshangout.com/foru...20#post2684520

It got moved and I think some folks did not see it.

[oldpro56]

Thanks Weams! The response here has been immediate. I want to keep this thread in front of everyone in order to share the stories, both from the book and those I compose that didn't make the final publication.

Tim

[oldpro56]

For those who got lost in the shifting of the original thread, The Legend of Steve Dalkowski



Posted with permission of Orioles Hangout publishers
portions originallyseen in The Legend of Steve Dalkowski thread
found in Orioles Talk forum




BEATING ABOUT THE BUSHES

Few little boys have a chance to realize their dream of playing
professional baseball. Fewer yet ever experience the thrill of
wearing their own custom fitted uniform in a major league spring
training camp. “Beating About the Bushes” allows the reader to
ride the emotional wave of my eight year career starting with
the realization at age 12, I was the “big fish in the small pond”.

The 60's were the beginning and end of the age of innocence for
many facets of life. Professional baseball players still played for
the love of the game and not money. Today's average major
league player makes more in one game than the average yearly
wage for a player in 1960.

For a decade I was both a player and scout in professional
baseball. This provided a broad overview for the playing and
business side of baseball and how little control a player had
over his destiny. By maintaining contact with teammates who
chose to enter management after their careers, I was able to
follow the evolution of the game.

“Beating About the Bushes” takes the reader back to an era
where life was much simpler. It was possible to buy a cap gun
along with caps to play cowboys and indians without fear of
legal entanglements.

Tim Sommer
APBPA Life member#3322
AVAILABLE @
www.buybooksontheweb.com (excerpt available)
www.amazon.com
www.barnesandnoble.com

Personalized copy-PO Box 26094
Prescott Valley, Az. 86312-$15.00-shipping incl.


TimS123@aol.com

[weams]

For those who got lost in the shifting of the original thread, The Legend of Steve Dalkowski



Posted with permission of Orioles Hangout publishers
portions originallyseen in The Legend of Steve Dalkowski thread
found in Orioles Talk forum




BEATING ABOUT THE BUSHES

Few little boys have a chance to realize their dream of playing
professional baseball. Fewer yet ever experience the thrill of
wearing their own custom fitted uniform in a major league spring
training camp. “Beating About the Bushes” allows the reader to
ride the emotional wave of my eight year career starting with
the realization at age 12, I was the “big fish in the small pond”.

The 60's were the beginning and end of the age of innocence for
many facets of life. Professional baseball players still played for
the love of the game and not money. Today's average major
league player makes more in one game than the average yearly
wage for a player in 1960.

For a decade I was both a player and scout in professional
baseball. This provided a broad overview for the playing and
business side of baseball and how little control a player had
over his destiny. By maintaining contact with teammates who
chose to enter management after their careers, I was able to
follow the evolution of the game.

“Beating About the Bushes” takes the reader back to an era
where life was much simpler. It was possible to buy a cap gun
along with caps to play cowboys and indians without fear of
legal entanglements.

Tim Sommer
APBPA Life member#3322
AVAILABLE @
www.buybooksontheweb.com (excerpt available)
www.amazon.com
www.barnesandnoble.com

Personalized copy-PO Box 26094
Prescott Valley, Az. 86312-$15.00-shipping incl.


TimS123@aol.com

Have you continued to sell a few copies by posting here? Just wondering.

[oldpro56]

Yes, and it's been fun. I've been contacted by email, books have been purchased on Amazon and I can see the ranking get better or I'll open up my mailbox (used only for the book) and there is an order.

[oldpro56]

Amazon just ran out of stock on my book. Thanks to all. The publisher usually replenishes in just a couple of days.

Tim

[Can_of_corn]

You need to push for an Ebook version. I requested it for the Kindle on Amazon's page.

[oldpro56]

You need to push for an Ebook version. I requested it for the Kindle on Amazon's page.

I just emailed Infinity Publishing about this. I'll let you know what they say.

Tim

[Can_of_corn]

I just emailed Infinity Publishing about this. I'll let you know what they say.

Tim

Good, I am a heavy reader and have not purchased a physical book since getting my Kindle last year.

[oldpro56]

This story did not make my book.

The 1964 Midwest League season came down to a one game playoff between our Appleton club and Clinton, Iowa, respective winners of each half. I went for Appleton and Willie Hooker pitched for Clinton. Hooker had gained some publicity earlier in the season after being arrested for firing his derringer at flies on the walls of his hotel room after a night of partying. Willie's record for the season was 11-4 (1.21 ERA) primarily as reliever in 46 appearances. In fact in his 10 year career he only started 7 times out of 391 games. I was 13-2 (2.20 ERA) and only 3 games were in relief for my 22 games.

We won the game and the title (I got the win) and prepared to get on the road as quickly as possible for the long trip back to Appleton. We hadn't even discussed any method of celebrating since our arrival wouldn't be until about 8 in the morning back at the park. But the 200+ cars that had come to see our game had other plans for us. The caravan stopped at the first opportunity to buy cases of beer and these fans loaded our bus for the return.

The bus that had been assigned to transport our club all season was of early '50's vintage and had no restroom. We became skilled at whizzing out the door with J.P. Wernemuende driving with one hand on the wheel and the other on the lever holding the door open. On this trip, the first 10 or 12 cars had to endure various liquids coming at them from both doors and windows with the need to operate their wipers quite often.

Somewhere in the middle of the night we were stopped by a Highway patrolman who only knew he saw a bus holding up a very long line of cars. Since the interior lights were on, it appeared to him there was mayhem since everyone was behaving in a manner not associated with normal bus travel. After he boarded and found out why we were celebrating he left with a grin on his face and his congratulations to us.

Just on the outskirts of the city a pillow fight broke out and feathers were everywhere. One player was assigned to wipe the windshield from the inside so our driver could see to find the park. When we arrived there were several hundred fans at the park along with several fire trucks. Plans had been made to have a victory parade from the park through downtown Appleton. The parade was canceled for fear we wouldn't be able to hang on to the trucks because of the condition we were all in. But, the Appleton Foxes went down in the history books for winning their first Midwest League Championship and I was the MVP of the game.

[weams]

this story did not make my book.

The 1964 midwest league season came down to a one game playoff between our appleton club and clinton, iowa, respective winners of each half. I went for appleton and willie hooker pitched for clinton. Hooker had gained some publicity earlier in the season after being arrested for firing his derringer at flies on the walls of his hotel room after a night of partying. Willie's record for the season was 11-4 (1.21 era) primarily as reliever in 46 appearances. In fact in his 10 year career he only started 7 times out of 391 games. I was 13-2 (2.20 era) and only 3 games were in relief for my 22 games.

We won the game and the title (i got the win) and prepared to get on the road as quickly as possible for the long trip back to appleton. We hadn't even discussed any method of celebrating since our arrival wouldn't be until about 8 in the morning back at the park. But the 200+ cars that had come to see our game had other plans for us. The caravan stopped at the first opportunity to buy cases of beer and these fans loaded our bus for the return.

The bus that had been assigned to transport our club all season was of early '50's vintage and had no restroom. We became skilled at whizzing out the door with j.p. Wernemuende driving with one hand on the wheel and the other on the lever holding the door open. On this trip, the first 10 or 12 cars had to endure various liquids coming at them from both doors and windows with the need to operate their wipers quite often.

Somewhere in the middle of the night we were stopped by a highway patrolman who only knew he saw a bus holding up a very long line of cars. Since the interior lights were on, it appeared to him there was mayhem since everyone was behaving in a manner not associated with normal bus travel. After he boarded and found out why we were celebrating he left with a grin on his face and his congratulations to us.

Just on the outskirts of the city a pillow fight broke out and feathers were everywhere. One player was assigned to wipe the windshield from the inside so our driver could see to find the park. When we arrived there were several hundred fans at the park along with several fire trucks. Plans had been made to have a victory parade from the park through downtown appleton. The parade was canceled for fear we wouldn't be able to hang on to the trucks because of the condition we were all in. But, the appleton foxes went down in the history books for winning their first midwest league championship and i was the mvp of the game.

mvp...mvp...!

[oldpro56]

from my book "Beating About the Bushes"

THERE WERE NO STEROIDS

The 1960’s were an extremely explosive period in our history producing a deep division between leaders and youth of this country. The Vietnam War was viewed by many as being senseless and catalyst for change in many areas. Music shifted overnight from rock and roll to songs of protest.

Rioting in the streets was seen by the world to be illustrative of the “Ugly American” and memories of this carry over to this day in many countries. The use of drugs turned from experimentation with marijuana to hard line addiction. The demographics of our prison system changed also and drug offenders increased dramatically as they continue to do so with moral, legal and economic questions.

I can honestly say for the years I played (1963-1970), I only witnessed the usage of “greenies”. Drug usage wasn’t even mentioned in inner circles and there were no veiled references either. The sport of baseball seemed to be insulated as far as I could sense though living in California several off seasons made me aware of how much the general public was participating.

The term for the pills came from the color of the most commonly prescribed diet pill on the market at the time. Today this is known as “speed” and abused by many. Every clubhouse in 1969 had a direct source and ours in Elmira was no exception. Almost always any club’s supply came from the team’s doctor.

It was viewed as a performance enhancement for those who burned the candle at both ends, fitting the description of most professional athletes enjoying life to the fullest without regard to their future. I had no intention of ever taking greenies until an all night sortie caused me to reconsider. There was no way I would be able to stay awake for the entire game and it would have been embarrassing to fall off the bullpen bench.

[oldpro56]

a continuance of THERE WERE NO STEROIDS


“Ball Four” was a bombshell book published in 1970 setting the precedent for tattle tale writing within sports. The author, Jim Bouton, was a veteran pitcher picked up by the expansion Seattle club after a career pitching for the New York Yankees.

His book chronicled a major league season for the first time from an inside perspective giving the average person an accurate and shocking insight into the abnormal life of a professional athlete. There were no punches pulled and many heroes were shown not to be the deities created by the media, but human beings with many faults. This was accomplished without any of his teammates having knowledge since Jim kept notes on a small notepad and, when questioned as to what he was doing, offered evasive and bizarre explanations.

When “Ball Four” hit the market, everyone I knew rushed out to buy. It was interesting from our perspective because anyone who had been in the game could identify with situations or actually knew one or more of the players Bouton had written about.

I noted early in the book a mention of greenies and their use by the Seattle players. Bouton said the club was running low and since management had denounced them, the supply had to be shipped in by players from other organizations. I was cruising through the book astounded to be reading all the inside tidbits. Then, on page 211, I became involved.

“At dinner Don Mincher, Marty Pattin and I discussed greenies. They came up because O’Donoghue had just received a season supply of 500. “They ought to last about a month,” I said. Mincher was a football player in high school and he said, “If I had greenies in those days I’d have been something else.” “Minch, how many major-league players do you think take greenies?” I asked. “Half?, More?” “Hell, a lot more than half, he said, “Just about the whole Baltimore team takes them, most of the Tigers, most of the guys on this club. And that’s just what I know for sure.” There it was out in the open for all to see.

[weams]

a continuance of THERE WERE NO STEROIDS


“Ball Four” was a bombshell book published in 1970 setting the precedent for tattle tale writing within sports. The author, Jim Bouton, was a veteran pitcher picked up by the expansion Seattle club after a career pitching for the New York Yankees.

His book chronicled a major league season for the first time from an inside perspective giving the average person an accurate and shocking insight into the abnormal life of a professional athlete. There were no punches pulled and many heroes were shown not to be the deities created by the media, but human beings with many faults. This was accomplished without any of his teammates having knowledge since Jim kept notes on a small notepad and, when questioned as to what he was doing, offered evasive and bizarre explanations.

When “Ball Four” hit the market, everyone I knew rushed out to buy. It was interesting from our perspective because anyone who had been in the game could identify with situations or actually knew one or more of the players Bouton had written about.

I noted early in the book a mention of greenies and their use by the Seattle players. Bouton said the club was running low and since management had denounced them, the supply had to be shipped in by players from other organizations. I was cruising through the book astounded to be reading all the inside tidbits. Then, on page 211, I became involved.

“At dinner Don Mincher, Marty Pattin and I discussed greenies. They came up because O’Donoghue had just received a season supply of 500. “They ought to last about a month,” I said. Mincher was a football player in high school and he said, “If I had greenies in those days I’d have been something else.” “Minch, how many major-league players do you think take greenies?” I asked. “Half?, More?” “Hell, a lot more than half, he said, “Just about the whole Baltimore team takes them, most of the Tigers, most of the guys on this club. And that’s just what I know for sure.” There it was out in the open for all to see.

Did you feel that Greenies were similar to steroids in their effect on how the game was played? Or just a way for someone who was out all night to get it together to play the next day

[oldpro56]

It was viewed as a performance enhancement for those who burned the candle at both ends, fitting the description of most professional athletes enjoying life to the fullest without regard to their future. I had no intention of ever taking greenies until an all night sortie caused me to reconsider. There was no way I would be able to stay awake for the entire game and it would have been embarrassing to fall off the bullpen bench.

Secretly, I slipped back to the clubhouse unseen by fans by going underneath the right field stands. Since it was mid-game I could go directly to the large glass jar where the pills were kept, out in the open for all to use. The recommended dosage was two but since I was near collapse, four seemed more appropriate to solve my problem. The return trip to the bullpen took less than two minutes, but I could feel the drug’s effect taking over.

Our field lights started increasing in intensity as my pupils dilated and it became impossible to sit for more than a moment or two. I started pacing back and forth from one end of the bullpen to the other just as big cats do in a zoo. This drug lived up to the reputation as everything sped up around and within me.

Suddenly, the signal from the dugout came to start warming up because our current pitcher was in trouble and I was going to be in the game. There were no telephones at this level so hand signals were required. Mine was hands raised with thumb and forefinger placed together indicating round eyeglasses. It was normal for me to take only a few pitches to get loose and this night was no exception. Harry Bright summonsed me and I came running at full speed. This should have been a tip off since I always walked in from the pen.

Harry handed me the ball and returned to the dugout totally unaware of what he left standing atop the mound. When I finished warm ups there was no doubt in my mind I was the fastest pitcher ever to play the game, including Steve Dalkowski, There was a question as to why my catcher hadn’t gone back to the locker room for extra padding in his glove.

The first signal was for a breaking pitch but that didn’t suit me. The next was for a fastball and this was what I had been waiting for. I wound up and threw a pitch that should have been leaving vapor trails, it was thrown so hard. The batter took a swing and pulled the ball out of the park foul. This had to be a fluke since nobody could get his bat around fast enough to do what he had done. I repeated the pitch with the same results.

My mind now understood what was happening and I struggled to pull myself together. There was real fear as to what this drug had done to my thinking and coordination. Somehow I got through the inning with no damage to the score or myself and made a vow to never try this again. This was a promise I kept and no one ever knew what I went through this night.

Weams-Players viewed greenies not as a performance enhancer but something to bring them back to life after a hard days night.