Monday, October 9, 2006

Johnny Bardelli and The Oregon Coast

I played American Legion baseball 1970-72 for the Kellogg-Wallace Miners. The 1971 team is picture above. I look at this picture andI don't see a lot of joy. I am in the front row, third from the left, and while I don't look miserable, I'm surprised that neither I nor my teammates seem particularly happy. It's not like we have our game faces on, either. We look scrawny, undersized, not very intimidating. We lost a lot of games in the summer of 1971. Coeur d'Alene, Sandpoint, teams from Spokane with names like Banner Fuel and Simchuck's Sporting Goods, Moscow, Missoula, all beat up on us pretty good. I'm thinking that each of us, posing here in the southwest corner of Teeter's Field, the concession stand behind us, looks out on our field of play and is embarrassed that unlike the other places we played, our field has no turf. It's a dirt field. We called it Astro-dirt. What did those Spokane teams think? What did teams touring around North Idaho and Western Montana think, when they came from The Dalles or Lake Oswego or Lake Chelan, and arrived in Kellogg? The air, even if it was clear, always held at least the aftertaste of sulfur dioxide. The hillsides were scrubby, tiny pines stunted. Most of the hillside was bare. Did these teams look at the Coeur d'Alene River, grey with pollution, and wonder about our lives in this Valley? Did they laugh? Were they frightened? I've never known what they thought.

These thoughts jumped around in my head two days ago while I was at Haceta Beach on the Oregon Coast with my dog, Snug. I thought back to 1970, my first season playing American Legion. The previous year, Kellogg-Wallace had a stellar team, but Valley legends like Danny Carrico and Grant Julefs and Al Fulton had graduated from high school and we weren't nearly as strong a team as they'd been. Our coach was a firey man, Johnny Bardelli. Bardelli loved an aggressive style of baseball. He loved well-conditioned players who could take an extra base on a ball hit to the outfield, loved hit and runs, stolen bases, strong defense, and, above all, alertness. For Johnny, baseball was about getting an edge. He loved to pick at our opponents, bait them, and, if he had to, he'd punch someone out, an opposing coach, a parent, anyone.

Johnny was a high school English teacher. It was on his recommendation that I read Upton Sinclair's "The Jungle" that summer. He was a Wallace native, but had left the Valley to teach in Astoria, Oregon. Consequently, when we gathered for preseason training, Johnny wasn't back from his job yet and his brother, Fred, guided our team. We won some games with Fred and then won some games when Johnny returned. But somewhere, things went sour. Maybe if I think more about it, I'll figure it out.

Here's what I know. Johnny had put together an ambitious schedule of games for our team. Because several players, Jim Byrd, Starr Kelso, Rick Gilles, and others were returning from the terrific team the year before, Johnny thought we'd be pretty good, too. So he scheduled a road trip to Oregon and southern Washington. We travelled to The Dalles, Yakima, Lake Oswego, and ended our trip in Astoria. We lost every single game on this trip. Every game. It was a disaster.

But, when we travelled to Astoria, we took a trip to Seaside, then a small, unassuming town, and I saw the ocean for the first time. I wasn't prepared for its grandeur. I gawked. The sounds of the waves bellowing from what seemed like miles out silenced me. While Jimmy Byrd scraped out a confession of love for Natalie Wood in wet sand, I tried to take in the ocean. I never wanted to forget it. Later, while in graduate school, I would read Moby Dick where Herman Melville refers to the ocean as a wilderness and I know now that that's what I experienced at Seaside. I was looking out at a wild, untamed, howling, powerful, humbling wilderness. I felt the same way watching Snug gallop after seagulls and splash his way a few yards into the tide.

Johnny Bardelli was a self-righteous man. He was one of those coaches who lectured us about the value sports had to help us deal with life outside the fields of play. He also hated to lose. When we returned to Kellogg/Wallace, one of the American Legion officers gathered our team in the stands at Teeter's Field and announced that Johnny had quit as our coach. He also announced that the trip scheduled for Montana where we were going to play Missoula, Helena, Great Falls, and Butte/Anaconda was cancelled. Self-righteous Johnny, as I remember it, didn't have the decency to face us. He couldn't tell us the truth. He never said: "I'm too impatient and proud and front-running of a coach to shepherd through a tough year. I'd rather quit on you than suffer with you." He just disappeared.

I was never serious about baseball or any other athletics again. I played. But, mostly I played the part of a clown, doing anything for laughs and mocking myself for being a crappy player. Before Johnny Bardelli quit, I'd had dreams of being on a great team and learning how to play scrappy, agressive, hard-nosed baseball. With his departure, those dreams vanished, but not the Oregon Coast or the Pacific Ocean. It has remained a powerful source of constancy and an embodiment of eternity in my life ever since. Not so, Johnny Bardelli. He quit.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Dear Bill:

I appreciate what you have written, Bill, and I have come to an understanding what impact Legion Baseball had on your life.

I recall you as a great prospect and looked forward to serving as your baseball manager had I been treated fairly by the Kellogg American Legion headed, primarily, by Ray Chapman.

I wanted to create a baseball program equivalent to teams in Lewiston under Dwight Church, and American Italian [Gonzaga Prep] under Ernie Pupo.

As you may recall, Kellogg did not have a high school baseball team as did Coeur d'Alene, Moscow, and Lewiston. Consequently, those areas were ahead of Kellogg or Wallace when the Legion season began after school was completed in June.

When I was teaching at Kellogg I sought to establish high school baseball so we would not be so far behind other schools when American Legion Baseball started thereby rendering Kellogg-Wallace-Mullan capable of providing competition to anyone in the Pacific Northwest.

I was told by the Kellogg Principal and Superintendent that we could not do so "because it was too expensive." I loved baseball and was not satisfied with the answer given. Undaunted, I offered to purchase all the equipment and uniforms out of my own pocket. I was told to "forget it and don't bring it up again."

When I was hired as the Legion coach by John Beckwith in 1965, I took over and combined the cities of Wallace, Kellogg, and Mullan into a single team. At the time, the Legion teams out of Lewiston, American Italian (Gonzaga) and Coeur d'Alene were playing 40 to 50 game schedules. I knew to be competitive with those teams that we would have to make some drastic changes.

Accordingly, I embarked on changing the traditional 15 game schedule that Kellogg and Wallace played into a 60 to 70 games a season as part of the makeover.

Initially, I was paid $100 to coach for approximately 4 months. This was increased to $200 for the next 2 years.

However, coaching was only the beginning. I wrote a letter to the Kellogg American Legion --- following the successful 1967 team that went to the State Playoffs defeating Moscow and Boise before losing to Lewiston in the championship game --- that I needed community help if I was to continue to be the Legion coach in 1968 it being my desire to not return these boys to the State Legion Championship but to win it.

As a coach, I had written instructions as to what my responsibilities consisted of as the "coach." I was assigned the task of purchasing equipment, arranging for financial assistance through local business to provide additional income above the meager amount being paid by the Kellogg American Legion, arranging to drag and water the field including providing equipment to do so, being in charge of the concession stands during the ball games, arranging for the selling of tickets, being responsible for the turning of the cash receipts to the American Legion, arranging for transportation when we traveled, handling all the scheduling and a myriad of other matters.

I was sick of doing all this and when I married in 1967, I forewarned Ray Chapman that this could not go on indefinitely. I also forewarned the American Legion that if it wanted me to produce a team to compete with the programs producing in Spokane, CDA and Lewiston, I would do it but I would not go through what I had to endure in 1966 and 1967.

I have a copy of the letter that I sent to Ray Chapman expressing my total frustration and disatis-faction with the inability of the Kellogg American Legion and the Bunker Hill Mining Company to back me up in this endeavor. I had numerous meetings with Chapman about my frustrations.

After we returned from the western swing that you described, I was not upset about the defeats --- not one iota. We were a young club with few veterans from the championship team of the prior year and I knew there would be growing pains. We played teams from Yakima, the Dalles, Astoria, and Lake Oswego and we were competitive despite losing those games.

I met with Ray Chapman after we got back from this swing westward. I asked him if I was going to get the help I needed and was told that there would be no changes. Consequently, I resigned and contrary to what you said about not meeting with the team, I did meet with the team at the first practice upon our return and expressed to them so of the reasons why I was being forced to resign. I have no recollection of why you might not have been there and I am sorry you were not there as I thought a lot of you. I specifically recall your great speed.

I told the team that sometimes in life these things happen and we move and make the best of it to everyone's satisfaction. I wished the team well.

All in all, coaching American Legion Baseball and working with the young boys who gave their all was one of the great adventures in my life. To the contrary, working with the likes of those authori-tarian naysayers who I had to answer to still rankles me to this day for I know where that program was headed as anyone with a sense of logic and understanding.

You young men were getting exposed to a side of baseball that was being played on a first class basis and mediocrity would not be accepted by me in terms of the style of play and effort being given on the field and during our practices. I wish I could say the same about the Kellogg American Legion and the Bunker Hill Mining Company for they wanted to see gold on the field without having to make the essential sacrifices in producing it.

Thanks for the memories, Bill and I trust life has been relatively good to you. I hear from a lot of the former Kellogg-Wallace Legion Players of those wonderful teams.

My best to you,

John A. Bardelli

Rick Wainright said...

I enjoyed reading your account Bill. But our 1970 team won a lot of games including against the Spokane teams. I have kept all the clippings. John did not coach in 1971. I came back from college to play since my birthday left me eligible and the coach's name was Chet Dickey. I played a few games but found him a poor substitute for John and you are right, the team was pathetic. I lost interest early. But the 1970 team was pretty tough with Kelso, Blum, Gillis, Marconi, Woolum, Dorendorf,
Wainright, Knott, Byrd, Twidt, and Watts.
But the 1969 squad was legendary: Deroshia, Juelfs, Carrico, Marconi, Calahan, Fulton, Gillis, Kelso, Gallagher, Wainright, Byrd, Blum, Chavez, and Wellman.
I thank John Bardelli for the important part he played in my life. I passed on a lot of the skills, strategy and toughness he taught me to my own sons. I coached for many years and could always hear his voice in my ear.

raymond pert said...

Rick,

Man! Hearing from you made my night. I can't tell you how often I think about you and stuff we did around Kellogg and the golf course and playing ball.

I hope I was clear in this piece that the picture is from 1971 but Bardelli coached us in 1970 until he left us.

Did you read John Bardelli's response to my post? He straightened out some things I got wrong and I wrote about that in another posting, on November 3, 2006. I accept my errors in that post.

I know we beat one Spokane team.. Simchuck's I think...you pitched a no-hitter.

If you come back and read this comment, email me:

billy1227@gmail.com

I'd like to write back and forth.

Rick Wainright said...

Marc Dorendorf emailed me about your blog and it brought back lots of great memories. Kellogg was a great place to grow up. I have traveled the world and it is amazing what a great education we received in that little valley. That was largely due to people like your mom, who was one of my favorite teachers ever, even though she taught me in second grade. I spent a lot of time at your house with your family and I also have great recollections. I have a great Bardelli story for you that you might not remember. We were on the Oregon swing. I think it may have been Lake Oswego. They had a catcher that all the scouts had come to see. I was pitching and the first two times I faced him I struck him out. However, in the last inning I got a fastball up over the plate and he broke a 1-1 tie with a huge walk-off homer off me to beat us 2-1. He hit the ball a mile. John had constantly told me to keep the ball down. After the game John said I was out of condition and made me run wind sprints. I had thrown a complete game 3 or 4 hitter, but he was pissed at me because of one bad pitch. It was funny, but I became a very tough and successful coach and that image
was always in my mind.