Another true story, narrated by my son, Rod Sitts.
Thought the Twins were a Minnesota Team?
By Herm Sherwood-Sitts
When I was in seventh grade, my sister was in softball, my brother was in baseball and I was in track. That had to drive my dad nut’s trying to get to all the games and meets.
One Sunday night, while my twin brother and I were doing our homework, (that we had procrastinated about all weekend) He broke the following news to me.
“I told our neighbor I would help him finish shingling his roof, so I can’t play in the game tomorrow after school, said Rube: while shoveling in his third bowl of cereal, slopping it onto our math homework. Ya’ see, Rube would do the math homework and I would copy it in return for doin’ the social studies. It worked out great until our first test. What were we thinking?
“Well Rube, give me your uniform and I’ll play for you tomorrow,” I replied.
Rube’s spoon stopped half way to his mouth, with a frown on his face. “What do you know about second base? Besides you don’t even know the signals! Rube grumbled.
“Do I need to remind you? I played third base in little league and I was pretty damn good at it! Second base couldn’t be much different than third and the guy’s can teach me the signals at lunch time, I said.
After a short pause he decided, “OK.”
The next day, I suited up for the Sherburne-Earlville baseball team. We were in the outfield first. The first ball hit to me, went right on by.
“Common Ruben, wake up out there!” yelled the coach. “Get in front of the ball, scoop it up and fire it to first, like I taught you in practice.
The next time the ball came to me, I stopped it, but I threw it right over Dom’s head at first. “I guess I’m a little outta’ practice,” I thought to myself.
Finally five runs and three outs later, we were up to bat. When it was my turn I stepped up to the plate. The first ball flew by at about a hundred miles an hour.
“STRIKE ONE,” yelled the Umpire.
I kicked the dirt a little and stepped back up to the plate. This time I swung and CRACK, I slammed the ball out in right field. As I rounded first I saw him picking up the ball, so I stayed at second base.
Next pitch I stole third, the catcher over threw and I stole home. The crowd went wild! The guy’s were yelling all right Ruben! Yay Ruben! Then Porky yelled… “ Way to go RODNEY!”
The team went quiet… Coach Snyder looked at me with a frown.
“Get over here!” he yelled. Which one are you?
“Rodney,” I replied.
“Take a seat! Do you know how much trouble I could get into?” growled the coach.
I turned and looked at Dad sitting on the bleachers. “I don’t know what the coach is mad about? I made a run! I said with a smile.
The next day when Rube went to practice the coach gave him the brow and a stare.