The story of Benicia High School’s league title-winning 1961 baseball team
INTRODUCTION
A POINT TO REMEMBER AND UNDERSTAND when reading this story is that I realize much of what is written here reads as “me, me, me.” It isn’t meant that way, but I can only use the sources I have. In writing this history, with comments, of Benicia High School’s championship baseball season of 1961, I referenced articles from five different newspapers: the Prowling Panther (the original Benicia High student newspaper, now defunct, replaced by The Paw), The Benicia Herald, The Benician (defunct), the Vallejo Times-Herald and the Vacaville Reporter. Anyone questioning the facts presented here has access to the same research sources. Another, supplemental source is the statistics I kept as a teenager — just as many youths have always done, and always will do — during the seasons I describe.
I’ve tried to be informative and all-encompassing, giving credit where credit is due, and simply tell the history.
PRELUDE
WHAT IS NOW THE SITE OF BENICIA CITY HALL was once Benicia High School. That edifice of learning closed with the Class of 1961. The last championship won by Panther students was in varsity baseball that year.
Four starters on that team were seniors who had been varsity performers since their freshman year. Two met in kindergarten and joined the other two in the sixth grade. They played together in grammar school games, summer league games and high school games.
They were, in alphabetical order, Dean Croney, Steve Flick, Jim Garrett and Fred Haderman.
In that championship season, except for one game, all of the varsity home games were played at what is now known as Fitzgerald Field. Back then it was referred to as the City Field, the City Diamond or the City Ball Park. The junior varsity played all of their home games on Sanborn Field, where the post office now stands. The varsity played one game there that season because City Field was unplayable.
City Field looked nothing like it does today. It was enclosed with a wooden fence with missing boards. That made for easy entrance at center field when we walked there from the high school for practice or a game. In right field, just to the left of the foul line, the fence was missing three boards side by side. That made it easy for the retrieval of a home run or foul ball to that side of the field. I’ve been told the originator of that specific right field opening was an outfielder who ran into the fence years before, but I have no proof. It makes for a good story.
By the summer of 1961, prior to the start of the Benicia Merchants semipro season, a cyclone fence was installed around City Field. The field itself was built on salt marsh dirt. The ground was hard as a rock after it dried from the winter and spring rains. Soon, after it had been dragged and pulverized so we could play on it, the surface kicked up a powdery dust.
Game socks weren’t cut high then. When the white under-sock we all wore was removed, it was clearly seen where the dust had contacted the moisture of our perspiration. Front and back were almost crescent-shaped images from City Field soil.
The only place on the field that had ground cover was in the left field corner area, extending a little toward center field along the fence line — a mixture of salt marsh grass and crab grass.
If long and hard rain had been accompanied by a high tide, the field was invaded by salt water from the Carquinez Strait. A drainage pipe ran from the strait under East H Street to empty out directly behind the third base dugout. The combination of rain and high tide meant water would follow one of its basic principles and flow downhill. Depending on the amount of sunshine in the days that followed, it could take about two weeks for the field to become playable. The flooding problem was solved many years later by the installation of curbs along the field area on East H and East Second streets, and by improved drainage, which was installed partly as a result of the mobile home park being built.
Prior to the mobile home park’s construction, the only domicile in that area was a two-story frame home almost directly across East H Street from the field’s parking lot. The field still gains and retains rainwater for a time, and it always will because of its depression, which is close to sea level.
Today I see kids with all the personal accoutrements they feel, or are told, a baseball player must have. In the time of which I write, nobody had their own game bat. The school provided five bats. Bats didn’t get broken often. If a bat was broken during a game, and it was the bat you used, good luck. You picked up another piece of lumber and kept playing. The bats and the catcher’s gear were carried in an ex-military duffel bag. That was our team equipment.
Each of us had his own glove and used it for many seasons. I purchased my Wilson model Lou Boudreau glove at Fitzgerald’s Hardware Store for $10.15. I used that glove on 11 teams over the years, from the sixth grade through high school. It was a fine glove. It made some nice catches.
Each of us was issued one game uniform, made of light wool, and a pair of game socks. We purchased our own baseball cap. We were also assigned a pair of sliding pads, thin cotton pads that tied in the front and were designed to protect the outer upper thigh area. They protected against abrasions, but not against bruises. Our practice uniform was a pair of football practice pants and a green, long-sleeved pullover that resembled the top of a pair of “long-johns.”
FOUNDATIONS ESTABLISHED
STEVE FLICK AND I MET AS CLASSMATES IN THE KINDERGARTEN located on East Fifth Street across from the trailer court. The auto parts store wasn’t adjacent to that site then. The building that now houses it was constructed as the site of King’s Market. That business had been relocated from the opposite side of East O Street when the building of the freeway began.
From kindergarten, I attended Highlands Elementary School. Shortly after I completed the fifth and final grade level at that school, Robert Semple Elementary School opened.
The play field at the former Highlands Elementary has long been Duncan Graham Park. Homes sit on land where first- through fifth-grade classrooms once stood. In a small world, Mr. Graham was the algebra teacher at Benicia High for some of us. Some of those with whom we would later become teammates attended Mills and Mary Farmar elementary schools.
The sixth, seventh, and eighth grades were taught where the Benicia Unified School District offices and Liberty High School are now. Sixth grade found Dean Croney, Fred Haderman and I in the same classroom, a circumstance that continued in the seventh and eighth grades. Flick was in another class at the school.
There was a unity of progression with a number of the students. Along the way, we joined others with whom we would play on grammar school, summer and Benicia High teams.
PRELUDE TO VICTORY
THE FIRST ATTEMPT AT ORGANIZED BASEBALL FOR SOME OF US came when we were around 10 years old. I, and some others, lived in federal housing on what were the original Larkin Drive and Semple Way streets, Woodbridge and the Highlands area.
Some guys got together in the neighborhood and decided to start a baseball team. Our mothers dyed white T-shirts green and that, jeans and tennis shoes was to be our uniform. I was volunteered to ask the father of one of our female classmates if he would coach us. He politely declined, and the “Our Gang” concept of our early baseball glory ended.
There were some pickup-type games between two churches one year, but it didn’t go further than that.
The next closest organized play for those who would later be teammates at Benicia High School was a city summer recreation team that mainly consisted of very different age ranges, four or five years apart. The few games were in Vallejo, the East Bay and San Francisco. The young guys didn’t play much, but shagged a lot of balls in practice.
In grammar school, we were only allowed to play softball on the school grounds. Little League started in Benicia the season after most of those of us who would graduate with the Benicia High Class of 1961 were over-age.
The first truly organized baseball, for those of us who would play in the championship game and graduate together, was in Peanut League in the 1957 season. The team, the Cubs, was coached by Al Ribeiro and sponsored by Allied Products Company. That company was located on First Street at the building area now named The Tannery, and which now has a brick facade.
We played league games with teams from Vallejo and practice games with a team in Martinez. Vallejo had baseball leagues for boys long before Benicia, and our team’s inexperience definitely showed.
I hit my first home run in organized baseball against the Martinez team, over the left field fence. That day Flick’s father gave me a ride home from the ferry slip, and my father was sitting on the front porch. From the automobile, Steve’s father said, in reference to me, “He hit a home run.” In the near-distant future, the connection with the home run and my father proved ironic — that first one and, years later, the last.
In those early days we had to play in the 14- to 15-year-old bracket of the league. One source I’ve read stated boys in that level against whom we played were as old as 16. Ribeiro had hoped to have a team in the younger, 12- to 13-year-old bracket, but there were not enough boys of that age level in Benicia interested in playing. Because of that, some of us were 13 playing against boys 14 or 15 or even 16 years old. That age difference in athletics is huge during that period of physical development.
Croney, Flick, Haderman and I were regulars on the team. Mid-season, Ribeiro withdrew the team from the league because we were much younger as a team than any other team in the Post 550 Division of the league. He had us play independent games against teams closer to our age level.
The next summer there was no team in Benicia for which boys of our age could play. Flick and I played for the Vallejo Moose that summer, the only boys from Benicia to do so.
It was a sad state of affairs that we had to go to Vallejo to play baseball. But we played well, and we were both named to the All-Star team. I have been unable to locate Flick’s statistics for that summer season, but I batted .350, had 19 runs batted in and scored 11 times. We each were learning more about the game of baseball.
The summer of 1959, Benicia again had a Peanut League team. It was named the Machinists and was coached by Ray Macht and Al Casagranda. Our gray uniforms with red trim were new and were topped with a red cap with a white “B” on the front.
Playing against Vallejo teams, we finished third in the league. In our last game, we upset Al’s Sport Shop, 4-3, forcing them into a one-game playoff against the Vallejo Police team, which Al’s won. Our game was a no-hitter, with Flick relieving Dennis Veien with two out in the sixth inning when wildness allowed Al’s to score their three runs. In that game Flick and I were the leading hitters with two hits each. My triple in the third inning drove in two runs, and then I scored.
Flick was our leading pitcher with five victories. Flick, Gary Harty and I were named to the All-Star team. Harty batted leadoff in the All-Star game and got two hits in three at-bats and also had a walk. I batted fourth and was 0-2 with two walks. Flick pitched part of the game and was 0-2 at the plate.
Flick was the team’s leading hitter at .411; followed by me, .372; Harty, .361; Wentworth, .314; Don Leary, .300; Veien, .275; Haderman, .250; Ron Meyers, .153; and Ben Heitz, .111. For some reason, unknown to me, Croney did not play summer baseball.
In one victory at Wilson Park in Vallejo, Flick and I each went 4-6 with two triples, four runs scored and six RBI. We each saw the ball very well that afternoon.
In a 5-4 win against the Vallejo Police, I was the first batter in the last of the seventh and doubled. Harty drove me in for the winning run.
In perhaps a case of irony, we defeated the Vallejo Moose the first time we played them, and they forfeited the second time we were to play.
Walking into the Benicia High locker room after that summer season to dress for the first practice of football, Coach Phil Goettel asked, “What did you hit in summer league?” I replied, “I hit .372, but it was only summer league.”
With words I’ll always remember, that longtime teacher-coach-mentor replied, “.372 is good in any league.” Coach Goettel knew and understood sports and followed and supported the progress and exploits of Benicia High’s athletes.
As freshmen, Croney, Flick, Haderman and I became members of the varsity baseball team at Benicia High coached by Barney Corrigan. Croney and Flick became starters early on and won their varsity letter. Haderman and I didn’t see the field very often.
We all started learning more about the diamond that was our home field and about some of the individual opponents we would play against for four seasons. In the late 1950s and early 1960s, Benicia High School had two main rivals: a non-league opponent, the St. Vincent Ferrer of Vallejo Hilltoppers, and a league foe, the Vacaville High School Bulldogs. Each season we played those teams home-and-home and each game drew large crowds. There were some highly interesting games in football and basketball, as well.
As sophomores, Croney and Flick continued to shine, and Haderman and I received more playing time. That is, I received more playing time until teacher and coach icon Corrigan kicked me off the team. Mid-inning in an away game toward the end of the season, I got our first hit. A few minutes later the inning was over and I came to the dugout to get my glove and go out to my position in center field. Coach Corrigan met me as I approached the dugout and told me he was replacing me.
I not so calmly expressed my opinion that he was in error since I had just gotten our first hit. He informed me that I was incorrect in my presentation of my view and that I was no longer on the team.
I waited for the team to get back from their next game, and when Coach Corrigan walked past me he said, “We could have used you out there today, Jimmy.” We both had a degree of Irish temper and each regretted what had occurred during the previous game.
Flick had a great sophomore season, hitting .423 and being named to the All-League team at first base. In a 5-4 loss to Vacaville, Flick had a three-run homer in the first. In the last of the seventh, with one out, Harty walked and scored on Haderman’s triple. It was a prelude to our games against Vacaville in the championship season.
Croney had a good season, including being the winning pitcher in a 3-2, 10-inning game against Dixon. Flick doubled in the 10th and scored the winning run on an over-throw. Croney threw a 4-0 win for the last victory of the season.
As juniors, Croney, Flick, Haderman and I were all starters. Croney was the starting pitcher and switched off with Flick at first base, Haderman played third base and I was in center field.
We defeated Vallejo 8-7 to open the season. Flick pitched the first four innings and Croney finished the game. We scored six runs in the fourth on hits by Harty, Flick, me and Croney, whose hit was a triple. Croney had two hits in that game. Ron Meyers and Mike Wentworth got the other hits. The game was played at Wilson Park in Vallejo and was cut to six innings because of darkness, but it was still the first time in four years Benicia had defeated Vallejo.
Some of us thought we would win the championship that season after defeating traditionally strong Vallejo. That didn’t happen, but the situation reversed the following season.
In our first game against rival St. Vincent’s of that 1960 season, things didn’t turn out well. We lost 5-1, with Haderman getting the only hit.
About half the team also competed in track that season, with meets on Wednesdays and Saturdays and baseball games on Tuesdays and Fridays. It was a small school then, and “double duty” was common.
To partly tell of the athletic ability of guys on the team, and the need for a small school to have them participate in more than one sport, I’ll give reference to that year’s league track meet. As listed in the Prowling Panther edition of May 13, 1960, the following baseball players participated: in Class “A,” Flick in the high and low hurdles, Gordon McGuirk in the 220-yard dash, Garrett in the 100-yard dash, and Garrett (trackman Charles Kimble), Flick and McGuirk (or trackman Bob Hodges) in the relay; in Class “B,” Haderman in distance events and Harty in the high jump; in Class “C,” Veien in the sprints. Folsom High School won the “A” and “C” championships and Vacaville won the “B” title. Haderman and Harty went on to the Sub-Sectional qualifying meet. Harty tied for fifth in the high jump.
In baseball, things got better in 1960 with a 9-5 win over Rio Vista. Flick, Veien and Croney combined for a three-hit pitching performance. Ernie Adams had two hits, including a double. Veien, Harty and I also had a double and Haderman hit a single. The decades-long battle with Vacaville teams continued, but though we out-hit them they defeated us 6-2 on their field. That would definitely change when we were seniors.
In a 6-1 victory over Lincoln, Flick had two singles and four runs batted in. Croney pitched a four-hit game and didn’t give up an earned run. The only extra-base hits for us were doubles by Kirk McClain and me.
In the game we had to play at Sanborn Field, Folsom defeated us 5-1. We only had four hits, with Flick and I getting two each, and I scored our only run in the seventh inning.
The next week we lost to Vacaville in eight innings and then defeated Lincoln. Croney pitched a three hitter in the win and Harty, Flick and I had two hits each and McGuirk got one.
The next week we lost to Galt and defeated Davis for the first of two times on the season. The first Davis win was 9-2 with Frank Pinkham, Adams, Haderman, Sonny Barrett, Flick and I getting hits, Adams’s being a triple. I drove in four runs and scored one. Pitcher Jerry Antoni only gave up five hits.
Following that Davis game, we lost to Folsom again with Flick, Harty, and I getting the only hits. Folsom went on to win the championship. The second Davis game was a 2-1 pitching gem by Croney, who only gave up four hits. Barrett had two hits that game. We scored our final run when Croney scored as their shortstop made an error on Wentworth’s grounder.
We lost the Alumni Game that season, 6-4. I tripled home Pinkham and Adams in the first inning, and we scored two more in the fourth when walks to Croney, Harty and Wentworth loaded the bases and Barrett singled. The game was tied until the eighth inning when Rolland Van Blaricom led off with a triple. Then two outs were made before Bill Smothers walked, and both scored on back-to-back singles by Jim Stubblefield and Larry Lemos.
Flick had another fine year of hitting with a batting average of .400 and was named the team’s Most Valuable Player. I was named Captain. At this time I have no information available on who from our team was named to the All-League team, but I’m sure Flick was, at least.
THE CHAMPIONSHIP SEASON
FOR THE SENIORS, THE 1961 SEASON DIDN’T BEGIN AS IF we would win a championship. We lost the first game to Vallejo, 15-0. Their three pitchers threw a no-hitter. Three on our team had just finished the basketball season and another was ill, so some guys played positions they would not normally play.
We played teams from as nearby as Vallejo, Crockett, Fairfield (Armijo) and Vacaville, and as far away as Galt and Folsom. But that year we only won one pre-league game, defeating John Swett, 6-2, as Flick hit a double and a triple, I doubled, and Wentworth, Adams, Kermit Schimpa and Veien singled.
Our team struck out too many times and our pitchers gave up too many walks. Still, we defeated Armijo 8-1 in Benicia after losing to them in Fairfield. Croney hit a bases-loaded double and Adams and I got two hits each.
Things started changing with the first league game, a 6-1 victory over Folsom High School. Flick was the winning pitcher. Harty and I were the leading hitters, with one of my hits being a triple.
Then there was a tough 7-5 loss at home to St. Vincent’s and upset road losses to Folsom, 6-5, and Galt, 7-1. But we were pretty much off and running after that.
Against St. Vincent’s, we scored three runs in the first inning. With two men out, Harty doubled, Flick walked, and I hit them both home with a double down the first base line. Then I scored on a single by Croney. In the third we scored two more times after Harty got on base because of an error, and I hit a second double that scored him. Then I scored on a sacrifice by Haderman. We only had four hits in the game
St. Vincent’s scored an unearned run in the fourth. We were ahead 5-1 at the end of five innings but we made four errors in the sixth, helping them score four more times. In the last inning, two more errors by our team gave St. Vincent’s two more runs and the win. The ball went “clang” a few times when it hit Benicia gloves and some throws were air-mailed to bases that day.
That game was a defensive disaster. It would have been our fifth consecutive win. I got two hits and Croney and Harty had one each.
The Folsom loss that followed saw the winning run score in the last inning on a hit, an interference call and an error. We were ahead 4-0 at the end of two innings. We had won four in a row before that. Veien, Adams, Haderman and I got the only hits.
The first time we played Folsom was at City Field and we beat them 6-1. I think travel affected each team that year. There were long bus rides. Flick pitched a two-hitter, Harty had two singles, and I had a single and triple.
We bounced back from the loss to Folsom by defeating Davis at home, 5-1. In the first game with Davis we’d defeated them 4-2 with Croney, Flick, and Schimpa getting our only hits. Flick pitched a one-hitter and struck out six in the second Davis game. He hit two doubles, one of which scored two runners. Schimpa started the sixth inning off with a walk. Adams then beat out a near-perfect bunt, followed by Harty’s single, which scored Schimpa, and Flick’s double, which scored Adams and Harty. Then Flick scored on a wild pitch.
In the first inning of the second Galt game, their batters hit four consecutive pitches off Croney, a triple and three singles. They scored six runs that inning. Then Flick relieved Croney and held Galt to two hits. The only hits we had were singles by Schimpa and Haderman.
The first time we played Galt was in Benicia and we won 4-1. We were behind 1-0 in the fourth inning and Croney relieved Flick. The bases were loaded and Croney struck out the next batter to end the inning. In the bottom of the fourth, Croney singled Harty home. In the fifth inning Adams and Haderman scored on Jim Callison’s single. In the sixth inning I got my second hit of the game on a deep ball to center field and came all the way around to score the fourth run.
THE CHAMPIONSHIP GAME
THE STARTING LINEUP FOR THE CHAMPIONSHIP GAME AGAINST VACAVILLE was Kermit Schimpa, right field; Ernie Adams, left field; Gary Harty, shortstop; Steve Flick, first base; Jim Garrett, center field; Dean Croney, pitcher; Fred Haderman, third base; Jim Callison, second base; and Mike Wentworth, catcher.
To set the scene for the championship game, the first meeting of the two teams was in Benicia and we won, 7-3. It was a chilly and windswept afternoon and it looked as if it might rain.
We went ahead 2-0 in the second inning, but Vacaville tied the game in the fourth. Then we scored once in the fourth and four times in the fifth.
The team had only three hits, but stole five bases that game, which helped put runners in scoring position. Flick, Schimpa and I got the only hits, with Flick’s being a double. He scored in the second inning on a beautiful squeeze bunt by Haderman. Later Flick doubled in a run. My hit drove two runners home. Ben Heitz and Harty also sacrificed runs in.
Along with bases-on-balls, sacrifices and some good base running, we made the three hits count. In the fourth, Harty moved into scoring position by stealing second. In the fifth we stole two more bases and scored four runs on two hits.
Vacaville’s varsity baseball coach was also their varsity football coach. In football, we had defeated his teams for the championship the last two seasons. At City Field, the visitor’s dugout was on the first base side. While I was standing on first base starting to take a lead to steal, the opposing coach called out to his first baseman, “Half that bag belongs to you and half to Garrett.” I had never before received a compliment such as that from an opposing coach.
The field at Vacaville where we played that championship game did not have dugouts. The teams sat on benches behind the screened area of the backstop. It also had no fence from the first base line directly across the field to left field.
Croney was the winning pitcher. He gave up six hits while striking out three and walking two. Flick relieved Croney in the last inning.
In the championship game we again scored seven runs, but the way we did it was different.
We were down 5-2 entering the seventh inning, having scored our two runs in the fifth. In the final inning we scored five times. Vacaville scored once more in the final inning, but we won the game, 7-6.
In that final inning, Haderman knew the infield was playing back and laid down a perfect bunt to be safe at first. Always an intelligent ballplayer regardless of the sport, he then made another fine “heads-up” play that was highly instrumental in winning the game. When the batter following Haderman struck out, the second baseman turned to the outfield to tell the outfielders the number of outs. Haderman then sprinted to second, setting us up for another run.
Croney, Flick and Schimpa had two hits each in the game. One of Flick’s hits was a triple, and Croney and Garrett each had home runs. My home run went to left center. Harty had a single and Wentworth hit a triple.
Ron Minamide had three of Vacaville’s hits, including a triple. Their second baseman, Larry Krannichfeld, had two solo home runs. Those two home runs went with almost laser-like precision to right center field, where there was no fence. By the time I got to the ball and it was relayed home, Krannichfeld had scored. Had we been playing at Benicia those two hits would have been singles.
My first time at bat, I was called out on a pitch which to my dying day I will swear was low and outside. As I sat on the bench I started calling the pitcher Rag Arm. I did it enough that it drew the ire of some fans sitting behind us. They started throwing pieces of hard candy at me, with pretty good accuracy. I told Coach Corrigan what was happening and my opinion of the action. He immediately stood up and told the crowd to knock it off and they did. Hitting a home run later improved my attitude.
The important fact in telling of that championship game isn’t the inning-by-inning account. It is to demonstrate our will to win. For the four seniors, it was the culmination of dozens of school and summer team practices and games by guys who had known each other most of their lives. The game, or any of the games, could not have been won with those four alone, but looking at the history, they were the key. In the championship game, they each contributed to victory. They were each all-around athletes and competitors who always played to win.
The following season, the varsity baseball team won only five games. I believe that strongly demonstrates the importance of the four players — Croney, Flick, Garrett and Haderman — to the baseball program. It was an importance shown in sports in general at Benicia High School in the ensuing years.
AWARDS
BARNEY CORRIGAN GAINED THE HONOR OF BEING NAMED THE COACH of the championship team. It was his last championship. I’m proud to have been a member of that team, to have been coached by him for four years in baseball and three in football, to have been a colleague, to have known him for decades, and to have been a friend.
Croney, Flick, Haderman and I were named to the All-League team. Flick and I were unanimous choices. The only other unanimous choices were Vacaville pitcher Gil Lopez and outfielder Ron Minamide.
We only averaged 4.4 runs per game that championship season, but we usually found a way to win and that is the bottom line.
Flick was undefeated as a pitcher in league play and Croney had two defeats, but they were a fine high school combination.
Flick was a left-handed pitcher with a screwball and Croney was a right-handed pitcher, and both had a good fastball. Again, when Flick pitched, Croney played first base, and when Croney pitched Flick played first. Among his skills as a baseball player, Flick was an outstanding defensive first baseman.
Two infielders made double-digit errors for the season, but they fielded a lot of balls — and those fields on which we played weren’t what kids play on today.
They and the others came through when it counted most. I was lucky enough to not have made an error that season, but all I had to do in center field was run and catch or retrieve balls and throw to an infielder. I didn’t have to worry much about bad hops.
We finished the season with 12 players. Those receiving awards of a Block “B” or a star, signifying a second award in any sport, were: Ernie Adams, Jim Callison, Dean Croney, Steve Flick, Jim Garrett, Fred Haderman, Gary Harty, Ben Heitz, Kermit Schimpa, Dennis Veien, Mike Wentworth and Jim Wilson.
Dean Croney was selected as the team’s Most Valuable Player and I was named Captain of the championship team.
Flick led the team in hitting average for the season, as he had the previous two seasons, though his average fell to .305. Harty led in runs scored, with Flick and I tied for second. I had the most hits and runs-batted-in.
Haderman and Wentworth led the team in number of bases-on-balls received, and Flick led the team in stolen bases.
As egotistical as this undoubtedly reads, the key to that championship season was the play of, in alphabetical order, seniors Dean Croney, Steve Flick, Jim Garrett and Fred Haderman. We had basically played together since the sixth grade, on school teams and summer teams. As noted, we didn’t always all play together, but nonetheless those four players were the key. That was demonstrated by the All-League selections our senior year.
A huge factor in the success of those athletes, and thus the teams on which they played, was their all-around athletic ability. Included in that was the fact that each of us could run — demonstrated by the number of doubles, triples and steals we had. It is also demonstrated by the honors we were awarded. All except Croney ran track at least one season.
Flick broke the existing Class “A” record in our junior year in the annual gym class octathalon competition by scoring 2,590 points. Haderman was third in the Class “B” level with 2,080 points and Harty was fourth with 2,060. I don’t have my results for that year, but the following year I finished fifth in Class A with 2,335 points.
Instead of track, Croney was an All-League quarterback as well as being named All-League in baseball.
Flick was an outstanding high school athlete. He was an All-League selection repeatedly in football and baseball, and was a record holder in the high and low hurdles, as well as the starting center in basketball as a senior, the only year he played that sport. As a junior he was named Captain of the track team as well as the Most Valuable Player in baseball.
Garrett had a good youth athletic career, with many fine memories.
Haderman was a starter on two varsity football championship teams, one in varsity baseball, one in Class “B” basketball, and was a champion 1,320 and mile runner. As a junior he finished third in the Block “B” Marathon and second as a senior. He was captain of the track team as a senior.
Sadly, I know of some of my teammates from that championship team who have passed.
A FATHER’S LOVE
MY FAMILY LIVED ON EAST G STREET ABOUT A BLOCK from City Field. My father had suffered some strokes and walked with a cane after having to use a wheelchair, but arrived at each home game. He got there early and sat right behind home plate. Once when I came to bat he said, “Steak or beans, kid.” He meant his words in jest and support. More times than not, the meal was steak, but I’ve always enjoyed beans.
Many times in life I have been too hard-headed and stubborn; I think I got that from my father. An example: Once I was running to second base to break up a double play. The shortstop was on a direct line with me, and I definitely broke up the double play. He fired the ball toward first base just as I was starting my slide, but the ball wound up hitting the left side of my forehead and taking off like an escaped convict.
I immediately got up and jogged to the dugout. It occurred to me that I did not have my cap. I looked up and there was my father standing at the end of the dugout.
He asked, “Are you OK?”
I said I was, not really understanding the love a father had for a son, along with being too hard-headed and stubborn.
He then asked, “Then why didn’t you pick up your cap?”
The youth sitting in front of him did not have an adequate answer. I wasn’t hurt, wasn’t embarrassed, and I understood that I had left my cap on the field. Somehow, it hadn’t seemed as if I needed to retrieve it.
As I walked down the hallway toward the front door to leave for school the day of the championship game, my father called out, “Hit a home run today.” As you have read, I was lucky enough to do just that.
A function was scheduled for the Block B Society, the Lettermen’s Club at Benicia High School, the next day. As the president of that organization, I was obligated to attend. It was a Saturday, and my father had been admitted to a hospital in Vallejo the day before. Family members drove others of us to the hospital. I visited my father as long as I could and then departed for my obligation. I didn’t know he was going to die soon, but I understood things did not look good.
The next day the annual Alumni Game was to be played. I didn’t get a chance to visit my father. I never heard his voice again.
The Benicia Herald printed the following about that game: “Centerfielder Jim Garrett put on a sparkling defensive show for the Panthers catching everything hit in his direction except one drive off John Galvan’s bat. Galvan socked a tape measure blast in the 7th clearing the right field fence by 30 feet.”
John was a fine all-around athlete, perhaps better at baseball than any other sport. Later — small world — he and I were colleagues for years at Benicia High School.
Early in the Alumni Game I hit a double. On a following hit, I scored from second base and did not slide. I regret that I hurt the catcher, and hurt him severely, but he was blocking the plate and didn’t have the ball. I had always been taught that the base paths belong to the runner. I reached over and tagged home plate with my right hand and went to the dugout. Some people around town were not happy with me after that.
In the early morning darkness of the next day, my mother woke me and said, “Your father has died.”
Three days before, we had won the baseball championship and I hit a home run, just as my father requested.
BALL, BAT AND GLOVE
By Jim Garrett
The ball, the bat, the glove.
Treasured friends of youth.
Thrown, swung, and held,
In baseball there was truth.
Each with the other, never alone,
Horsehide, white ash, and leather.
Practice, game, or casual play,
A threesome blended together.
Honesty of the game,
The throw, the hit, the catch,
Part skill, part growth, part luck,
On grassy field or patch.
Fond thoughts of times,
With others, simply the same.
Victories and defeats, golden times shared.
Teammates together, for love of the game.
James M. Garrett has lived in Benicia for more than 65 years. He retired after a career of teaching at Benicia High School. He is the author of “Benicia and Letters of Love” and “The Mansion Stories” and the compiler of “The Golden Era,” a history of Benicia High School football from the 1948 through 1960 seasons. Contact him at Jgstoriesnpoetry@aol.com.