Back in the spring of 1990, I had the honor to have coached fifteen young men who played for the Jamestown High School Red Raiders Baseball Team.

At that time, we had the privilege of calling what was College Stadium back then (now Russell E. Diethrick Park), our home field, which was a privilege and a curse. First, being able to play on a professional, Minor League field in a beautifully maintained stadium is/was a dream for any baseball player who loved playing baseball, and our athletes were some of those players. It was motivational for our players to play in this jewel of a minor league facility, and you could tell they didn’t want to give a poor showing when we played our games there. The situation was, though, that opposing teams seemed to play a little better when they got to play there, too, as they seemed to be a little more motivated playing in our facility.

There was something about the ’90 group that made me think about baseball in this area, and as I thought, I recalled the days of our youth, when kids were on sandlots during summers, playing pick-up baseball games, playing real games with enough players for two teams, or variations of the game using the mound as first base, or ghost runners, or playing games of 21 (catching a fly ball being worth five points, a one-hopper worth three points and fielding a grounder worth one point, and the first one to 21 would then get to hit the balls to those in the outfield.) We also played a version of Home Run Derby too. I recalled my days playing sandlot baseball, where at the end of the day, my baseball glove hung on the handlebars of my bike, so I always knew where it would be when I needed/wanted it.

As I thought about all this, it occurred to me that the JHS team of ’90 was one of the last groups of kids who played sandlot baseball throughout summers off from school. Why did I think that was significant? Playing sandlot baseball, put the hands of the game in the players’ hands. They made their own coaching decisions, learned how to umpire the game without verbal or physical altercations, they learned about small ball and the art of bunting, which is almost non-existent in even Major League Baseball, where players are making millions of dollars and can’t (actually won’t) learn how to bunt to help their team, or have a productive at-bat when they are in a small slump. Kids who played sandlot baseball knew how to bunt, and they were their own coaches doing it.

The JHS team of 1990 prepared as a team, worked as a team, and played as a team. They won as a team, and they lost as a team. They were like kids on the sandlot, deciding how they were going to play themselves, and owning that. They seemed to buy into our philosophy that when they took the field, no matter which players were out there, they played as our best nine (nine players playing as a group, together), not our nine best (nine individuals just playing for themselves, worried about their personal stats.) It seemed to work out well. We qualified for the playoffs, and we reached the Sectional Final against the Number One Team in WNY, who had a player that major league scouts were looking at ahead of the upcoming MLB Players Draft.

In that Sectional Championship game, we went up 5 – 0. We had one of the three starting pitchers in our rotation that season on the mound (we didn’t have one better than the others, we had three with different talents and the ability to each throw multiple pitches well), so we could never say any of them was our best pitcher.

In the 5th inning, the top-ranked team in WNY scored two runs and had two runners on with nobody out. I called time-out to go over bunt defense, and first and third defense, in case they tried either or both strategy that inning. Before I reached the middle of the mound, I heard our pitcher tell the rest of the infielders that they weren’t going to score another run that inning. It was one player taking the leadership role, and the others confidently listening and readying themselves to carry out their part of that mission. The next three consecutive batters went down (pop-up, strikeout, and ground ball), and they finished off the 5 to 2 win and earned the Sectional Title.

Next, were the Regionals, and we were facing an Ithaca squad we knew very little about. We played at Dunn Stadium in Elmira, another minor league ballpark, but this one, having been in existence for many years, had park benches in the very small dugouts, and a nostalgic outfield fence to go with it. Not knowing what we were up against, the pre-game pep talk was basically, we need to do the things we do well on offense and defense, executing, as best we could, what we’d been doing all season to get where we were. It was a tie game until the 4th or 5th inning, when we had two runners on, and our shortstop laid down a perfect bunt that the third baseman fielded and threw over the first- baseman’s head rolling to the wall, scoring two runs with our shortstop reaching third base. He eventually scored and we held on to take the Regional Championship by three runs and qualify for the State Final Four.

Next stop, Central NY, the Little Falls area, where the games were scheduled. We were paired in the Semi-Finals against Section II Bethlehem. I called the Post Journal’s Terry Heslink, and he gave me what he knew about them, but unfortunately, we couldn’t solve the strong southpaw we faced, and we were eliminated from competition.

As we met before heading back home, I told the team that they could, and should, all be proud of the fact that though we didn’t win the big prize, they were, and always would be, the first baseball team to get that far in JHS Baseball history. Today, individual banners hang in the JHS Gymnasium, each listing years of respective sports teams who’ve reached states. The 1990 JHS baseball team is recognized on the baseball banner.

So, as I’ve done every fifth year since the Silver Anniversary of the success of this team, I send congratulations to players Jeff Bloomquist, Marty Boscarino, Mike Cady, Mark Grice, Mike Grobaski, Jay Henry, Curt Illig, Scott Larson, Steve Neubauer, Aaron Scoma, Sascha Staritz, Tim Strickland, Todd Terwilliger, Chris Vullo, and Mike Whitehead, Assistant Coaches Craig Holcomb and Brent Brown, our guys in the press box, Chad Chiffin, Matt Weimer, and Bob Payne, and Groundskeeper Tom Casler, on your being the first, and these 35 years later, the only, team to have reached that milestone, thus far.

Thanks again, for the forever memories I have of your including me on that great baseball ride.