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1990
Every baseball player dreams of a second chance – another chance to take another swing at that hanging curve ball ya know in your soul you were supposed to have hit for a home run. . Me, I really did not have any regrets as I knew I gave “the dream” all I had and even went some extra innings. I still made it to Muscatine to play in special games for old George and was actually playing my best ball as my right arm was healthy but at 29 I thought my dream big league dream was dead. I had settled into a nice job in the winter of 1989 and met a beautiful, hard working girl from Cuba who had a great baseball lineage. I had settled into a nice job and was quite content and starting to think about settling down and setting up some roots… Then it happened.
The collective bargaining agreement between major League baseball and the players union had ended and there was going to be another work stoppage as the owners were going to lock the players out of spring training. The owners did not want a repeat of 1981 when the players went on strike because of no agreement and 713 games were cancelled with the game losing an estimated 46 million dollars. This was going to be the 6th work stoppage in 18 years and although CBS and MLB signed the richest TV contract in history it looked like baseball was going to go with replacement players like the NFL did in 1987.
Eddie Einhorn and Geroge Long had become friends as George was the “booker” for many of the “wrestling” matches in the quad cities and Muscatine during baseball’s off season in the early years of ‘wrastling.” . . Mr. Einhorn was Vice Chairman of the Chicago White Sox after years of work as a television executive and a big part of sports television in its infancy and like old George, a guy who knew how to work and promote.
George contacted Eddy about Huckleberry and Dave Clark. I had talked to George over the winter numerous times about the impending strike/lockout and the possibility of using non-union players if the strike lasted. I was adamant that I was not going to cross a picket line as most of the people I knew on the south side were in unions and would resent me for the rest of my life if I crossed a picket line. I did not cross the picket line in 1982 with the Chicago fire department and that was my real dream job. I wanted no part of this billion dollar fight between the players and the owners…
Eddy and George, the great promoters they are hatched a new plan. The White Sox signed Dave Clark to a scouting contract and Dave signed on with the Rattvik Bets of the Swedish Eliteserien. Eddy had another dream to bring baseball to Europe in a big way and old George had convinced him that I might be a guy who could help and Dave had pitched in Sweden before. . George had contacted me in January to start thinking about Sweden and rejoining my old Clown teammate and coach Dave Clark. I had not really talked to Dave much in the past few years as we were two strong willed knuckleheads who clashed in the summer of 1984 when we tried the impossible and kept the Clowns on the road in 1984. Dave called me in March of 1990 and we had a nice chat as we laughed about the past. Dave said this was a great opportunity in Sweden and a chance to give the dream one more shot and he believed in my right arm if it was healthy….Dave was also looking to make a name for himself as a manager now as he had retired from playing. Dave is perhaps the most amazing baseball player/coach I had ever seen and was a hero of mine although on the field we wee kind of polar opposites as because of Dave’s Polio he had to really work at the game. Dave’s philosophy was “bacon and eggs” and somebody has to be the pig and be eaten –me, I was the clown and always trained and prepared hard but never really had that killer instinct.
I arrived in Sweden and it was all I had read about with the advanced social welfare system with little crime and folks living comfortably. The economy was in terrible shape with Prime Minister Carlsson’s cabinet actually resigning after failing to get a majority for its economic reforms. It later was reinstated after it made some changes to the original plan but there were some serious economic issues facing Sweden but that did not affect baseball. Baseball was booming as it was growing and when Dave and I arrived in Sweden we met an enthusiastic bunch of baseball players who really wanted to turn their franchise around. The Rattvik Bets had been struggling and would have been relegated to a lower division in 1990 but two teams in Stockholm combined so the Rattvik team stayed up in the first division.
Dave was even more intense than what I had remembered from 84 and at that time he was the most intense, hardest working baseball players I had ever seen. Now, he was the most driven coach there ever was as he pushed me to be the best I could be… I thought I was in good shape when I arrived in Sweden but after a couple six hour practices with Dave, I realized how far one could push his body.
The baseball was wonderful as although we only had one American and the best Swedish player from the 3-27 Rattvik team the year before had signed with another team, we still became a good team. The Bets really responded to Dave’s coaching and the lads learned to win and clinched a playoff spot by mid season. The baseball was not only great but my social life was also wonderful as Rattvik is one of the most beautiful cities in the world situated on the shores of pristine Lake Siljan. Coca Cola was our sponsor and they had given me a van to tour the country side giving away their product and lots of great stuff so I was meeting people ever day and living the dream. I had met a few girls in Sweden and was actually thinking that Sweden was where I could find my Nirvana.
The target date for my return to the States was mid June after the European Cup of Cups club tournament to be held in Leksand that year where I would meet players and coaches from all over Europe and get my face and name out there. The Chicago White Sox finished the 1989 season with 69 wins and 92 losses and were not expected to compete in 1990 as Oakland was loaded and the Sox were a young team close to coming of age. The Sox were going to move into a new state of the art ballpark in 1991 and 1990 was the last year for the old ballpark built in 1910. A brand new state of the art ballpark was to open in 1991 and the team was going to start a new chapter and end “their curse” as they had not won a World Series since they “threw” the 1919 World Series and 8 players were banned for life.
Everything was going as planned as although my velocity had not returned to where it once was but I was throwing in the mid to upper 80’s so I was just fast enough to dream. The tournament came and Sweden was the dominant team as we easily won as Dave’s drive was contagious and the team from Leksand, which is where Rattvik played its home games and had many of its practices was by far the best team in Europe. Leksand had a lot of guys who would practice with us on the long, warm late May and June nights when we used their field. Dave and I encouraged them as although they were our rivals they made us better as they filled in with our inter squad simulated games. We played Leksand our first series and they swept us so we wanted them to beat all the other teams too. Dave and I would be at the field for our practices in Leksand at 4pm and the sun would stay up until after 10 as we moved into June. Leksand was also prepared by the extremely competitive Eliteserien as the teams from Stockholm and especially those Vikings from Skellefea were great athletes who worked hard at the game and some of their bats were as dangerous as some of those old Viking swords. Baseball was alive and well in Sweden.
Then a funny thing happened at the tournament in Leksand. I had an amazing tournament as Sweden was so dominant that they let me pitch for Switzerland the last day of the tournament as Switzerland had numerous injuries and their American coach convinced all the other teams that I should play for Switzerland the last day of the tournament. I pulled a Satchel Paige and pitched both ends of a doubleheader and hit a couple moon shots as Switzerland won its last two games to finish in 4th place.
Earlier in the tournament, I had met a very passionate father/son from Cologne, Germany as I put on a pitching clinic and demonstrated pitches between games. Joseph Krauss was the umpire representing Germany and he was a good one. He called em like he saw em and there was not an ounce of bullshit in his body. Joseph had brought his son with him to the tournament as Thomas Krauss had just finished up his military obligation in Germany and was on holiday with his dad figuring out what he would do with the rest of his life.
Joseph was one of the most intense and driven men I had ever met and over the last two days of the tournament his mission was to get me to Germany. Thomas was also an extremely passionate young man who loved baseball and five or six drinks past the midnight sun I agreed to visit Cologne before I headed back to the States.
Dave was upset and confused as I explained to him that the White Sox were 45-25 on June 20 and tied for first place with one of the most exciting teams in baseball. I am a fan of the team and I too would be upset if they brought up some guy who was playing in Sweden. Dave was upset as he explained that if I stayed within myself and threw some shutouts at Double A, I would get the call. My reasoning was the team would trade some of their top prospects for experienced pitching from a team out of contention as they owed this to the fans and the political people who built their new stadium.
I also explained that my mom had German roots and had always wanted to visit her ancestral homeland but never got the chance before she died and I thought that this might be my only chance. I also was a political scientist and Germany was the epicenter of great change in the world as a Wall in Berlin was coming down and East and West might become one….This was one of the few times in humanity’s history where maps would be changed and two diametrically opposed forces would come to a compromise without resorting to war. I just wanted to check out Germany and then if things were not cool I would fly back to Birmingham.
Dave disagreed for a few hours but finally smiled as he knew my mind was made up and he asked me if I still had Camillia’s number. We gave each other a man hug as he further reminded me about location, location and location in pitching. The club was also quite surprised with my decision to go to Germany rather than the states but like Dave they all knew I had a clue so they wished me luck as I hopped on a train headed for Cologne to continue my Homeric, Quixotic journey. I felt both glad and sad as I really liked Sweden and the team was really starting to jell and our Junior team was the best in Sweden. We had a couple kids who were really ready to help. I also knew it might take a bit more time for Rattvik to beat Leksand as I was only allowed to pitch nine outs which now had to be completed in three innings so somehow I felt my destiny was in Germany in this historic year for humanity.…
I arrived in Germany and discovered a great baseball city that had two teams in the 16 team Bundesliga, the Cologne Cardinals and the Cologne Dodgers. The rivalry between the two teams was deep in this historic city located on the sometimes raging River Rhine. The Cardinals were loaded with talent and had a good American player/manager and numerous American and Spanish player/coaches who had really developed their German players. Many of the Cardinals had started playing baseball with the Dodgers but jumped to the Cardinals so the rivalry was intense and this looked to be the year of the Cardinal as they had already beaten the Dodgers decisively in their regular season contests. The Dodgers were also a very talented team but lacked some confidence. They just needed a spark to be the best team in Cologne as they were a veteran ballclub.
The baseball was heavenly and my political science education was expanding exponentially as I was the freakin Forrest Gump of espionage. 1990 the cold war was not over and things were happening as wars and rumors of wars were all over. I met a very intelligent and power driven girl from Russia who was teaching in Cologne. She thought I was somebody I was not as I did have a lot of friends as I was a happy clown promoting baseball. I met many people and I knew people who knew people but I didn’t really know nothing. One of the Dodger coaches and former owner of the team was a Lieutenant Colonel in German Intelligence and we played a few games at the Embassy in nearby Bonn where I bonded with a couple baseball brothers after some hard fought games.
That’s about the extent of it though as I was just a guy with a baseball dream and a student of political science and history who had found a paradise with people who were extremely excited about the new political environment and baseball! It was clown heaven as baseball was booming as there were two baseball clubs with many active, enthusiastic and fun loving participants and everybody loved to talk politics too and was so happy with America!
It was a wild ride as my Russian girlfriend kept me guessin and my Dodgers ran the table to slip into the fourth and last playoff spot in the South Division. We then battled our way thru fantastic playoff series wins in Krefeldt and then luckily beat a better Berlin club that was really loaded and had a pitcher named Mortiz who had tools.. Berlin was incredible as the energy of the city and the people I met were invincible.
The Cologne Cardinals had battled thru their playoffs and had beaten the unbeatable Manheim Tornados who had won the majority of championships in Germany since the beginning of 1st Bundesliga baseball and were like the old NY Yankees of the 20’s-50’s. The Tornadoes could beat a team with their aura of invincibility. But this year it was gonna be a city series in Cologne and this rivalry was as deep and delirious as the Cubs-Sox rivalry is in Chicago. The city series coincided with German Unification on October 3, 1990. The finals turned into one of the greatest championships series of all time as it was not about the money or the media induced stardom – it was about the love of the game and true sport and as we played for the pride of this historic city on the sometimes raging river Rhine.