It was the summer of 1952–I was almost 11 years old. Dad told us we were going to see the St. Louis Browns. I didn’t know anything about the Browns. We arrived early because Dad wanted to see batting practice and walk around the park. He told me he had something special he wanted me to see. He took me down to the Browns bullpen area in left field and I saw something I wasn’t expecting to see. There was an African-American ball player leaning back in a big backyard lounge chair. As we got near, Dad said, “There he is son…that’s Satchel Paige. He’s one of the greatest pitchers the Major Leagues has ever seen.”
It was in the late spring of 1959 in Barlow, Kentucky. Word got around that an All Star Team was being formed to play against Satchel Paige and a team of Cubans. I was chosen to play 2nd base and batted 5th. Satchel was pitching and they got us out 1-2-3 in the first inning. The 2nd inning they scored a couple of runs and then we came up to bat. I had never batted against a man who played in the majors and I had never batted against a Negro pitcher. I noticed that it didn’t look like he was all that fast but his “motion” was hard to read. I walked up to the plate (I was left handed) and dug in. Four pitches later, I struck out. I remember ridding home in the truck that night with my Dad. I was down because we got beat and also because I had struck out. After a long silence, my Dad turned to me and said, “Son I’m so proud of you…you were struck out by one of the greatest pitchers the Major Leagues has ever seen—the great Satchel Paige.”
