This one’s for you, Howard Shaw, Sr., Mickey Shaw, and my other dear teammates.
I grew up in Hackensack, a northern New Jersey suburb of New York City. My dad loved baseball, and I caught the bug early. My first organized baseball experience was in the local Pee Wee League for eight- and nine-year-olds. In my second season, we were coached by Howard Shaw Sr., whose son Mickey was eight years old and in his first year on the team.
I played pitcher and shortstop. I wasn’t a bad hitter, but I excelled at defense. I loved playing shortstop.
My Pee Wee League team. I am the tall kid, second from the left in the top row, just to Coach Howard Shaw’s right. His son Mickey is the small guy second from the right in the top row.
When I advanced to Little League for 10, 11, and 12-year-olds, Mickey again joined my team in my second year, and Howard again became my coach. I was still a pitcher and shortstop and hit pretty well, but I was better known for my defense. I remember overhearing an opposing coach say, “That kid gets everything!”
I also remember that during practice, Coach Shaw hit me one ground ball after the other when I was getting some work in at third base. He kept hitting them harder and harder, and I kept fielding them. Finally, he whizzed one that got by me and yelled with a laugh, “That one moved you!”
I progressed to play junior high and high school baseball and American Legion and Connie Mack baseball in the summers. In the latter league, I reunited with Coach Shaw. Mickey was on the team, and his dad coached the squad. I was still the shortstop.
I didn’t make the varsity in high school until my senior year. Mickey made it as a junior, so he and I were teammates again. Mickey played third base, and I was short. Our coach was Dave Seddon, one of our high school history teachers and a great baseball man.
I have always been a bit high-strung, and I was nervous about assuming the role of the starting varsity shortstop. Early in the season, my nerves began to result in costly errors. Sensing my discomfort, Coach Seddon made a bold move. He moved our junior second baseman, Tommy D’Arminio, a tremendous hitter on the varsity since his freshman year, to shortstop and me to second base.
I had a stronger arm than Tommy, but he was highly steady as a fielder. And playing second base took the pressure off me, so I performed well there. Tommy was named first-team All-County shortstop that year, and I was selected as the first-team All-League second baseman. Our team won our league and finished with an overall record of 26-6.
Tommy, Mickey, and I played on Howard Shaw’s Connie Mack team the summer after my senior year. The team was pretty much our varsity squad. Coach Shaw put me at third base, so another fine second baseman and solid hitter, Michael Gnerre, could play second base. Mickey played first base, and Tommy was at short. We were a very solid infield, and after winning our league, our team competed in the North Atlantic Regionals.
Tommy pulled a muscle in the first game of the Regionals, which we won. The injury limited his range, so Coach Shaw immediately put me at shortstop for the next game and Tommy at third.
I don’t know if Coach Shaw knew about my early struggles at shortstop during my senior year, but he had seen me play that position since I was nine. Whether it was the confidence he showed in me, the beautifully manicured field in Ridgewood, New Jersey, for the Regionals, or the excellent weather for the next three games we won, I played the best shortstop of my life.
I felt totally at peace out there. On a soft ground ball that rolled past the pitcher to his right by the fastest man on the opposing team, I charged it and knew I had to get rid of it quickly. I still don’t know how I unloaded it so fast, but I got him out by a whisker, keeping a significant threat off the basepaths.
Later in the tournament, a runner on second, with nobody on first and less than two outs, made the classic mistake of trying to get to third base on a ground ball in front of him. I fielded it cleanly. Tommy wisely retreated to the third base bag, and we threw him out, ending another threat.
Coach Seddon attended all those games, and I’m sure he was pleased to see me back to my best as a shortstop.
By the fifth and final game of the tournament (we won them all in the double-elimination setup), Tommy was well enough to return to shortstop, and I went back to third base. That win earned us a summer trip to the Connie Mack World Series in Albuquerque, New Mexico.
That was a thrill, especially as we won the first game in the bottom of the last inning. We trailed 7-2 and came back with six runs after we had two outs. I had one of the hits in the rally. We lost the next two games in the double-elimination tourney, but our second loss was a 5-4 defeat at the hands of the eventual National Champion from Dallas, so we acquitted ourselves well.
The 1971 National Connie Mack Championship
But the thing I remember most from that summer is the trust that Howard Shaw put in me, a trust born of his coaching me since I was a Pee Wee Leaguer.
Trust builds confidence, and it sure worked for me.
I love reading this newsletter since I also played baseball at Hackensack during the same years. However, do you know my participation in football and wrestling? I stopped playing baseball after my sophomore season. The names mentioned bring me back to my time at Hackensack. I made a good choice since I received a full scholarship to Marshall University. I even wrestled at the varsity level during my freshman year. Keep the letters coming!