CHIEF AND THE HALL OF FAME

 The first time I ever met Dwight Smith was at a Karns vs Doyle baseball game. I’d ridden with the Pioneers on the bus and sat in the dugout with the team. Several of the Doyle players were in my English class, and I’d promised to watch them play. I didn’t know at the time, but I was about to meet one of the “true characters” in the Knoxville area.  

The game hadn’t been going long before a skinny, “bird-legged” man came tearing out of his dugout to dispute a call. Dwight was infamous for crawling all over every umpire when he thought a wrong had been done to his team. As he squalled out at the injustice, the coach jutted out his chin only inches from the umpire’s face, put his hands on his hips, and stuck out his elbow until his arms resembled chicken wings, and stood in a ready-to-fight stance. I looked at Bobby Campbell, the Doyle coach, and muttered, “What a jerk!” Bobby replied, “Nope, That’s just Dwight being Dwight. 

My next encounter with the Chief, a name either he or his players bestowed upon him, was in the faculty dining room at Karns High, where I had moved to teach. Dwight and a table of coaches were eating and talking, and they invited me to sit with them. The man was in the middle of some kind of argument with Ernie, another coach. Suddenly, Mount Dwight erupted, and I thought punches would begin raining down any time. However, in another minute or two, everyone was again sitting at the table and having a good time as if nothing had happened. 

Dwight Smith became one of my best buddies at Karns. The common thread was baseball. I liked the game; Dwight loved it. I could sit and listen to him tell stories and give tips forever. His players didn’t feel the same. Chief would begin practice in the gym during cold weather. Teams assembled at one end and waited for him to come out. Then the talk began, and more than once, Dwight rattled on for 45 minutes or more. He’d talk about techniques or personal skills, and then he’d switch to a long discussion about his philosophy on something and always included personal events to prove his points. Some players nodded off and had to awakened to begin practices. 

Those daily sessions could be brutal. Boys ran and batted and defended, and Dwight managed to critique any player on the field, especially when a mistake was made. Yelling at players was part of his instructional method. The man also used sarcasm to deliver his displeasure with a play or an at-bat. Today’s players can’t take what Dwight and other coaches of his era gave out at practice. However, the instruction stuck, and his players developed into some of the finest athletes on a baseball diamond. What Dwight did was chew players behinds out, but at the end of the growling, he always put his hand on the backs of their necks and gave them squeezes or slapped the butts to let them know he loved them. 

Saturday, January 22, Dwight Smith was inducted into the Tennessee Baseball Coaches’ Association Hall of Fame. The event was held in Franklin, Tennessee. A dinner marked the end of the weekend coaches’ clinic. At that time awards to state champions and outstanding players were passed out. For me, the highlight of the day was knowing that Dwight had been inducted into something that gave him the recognition he wanted and certainly did deserve. It was confirmation that he was one of the best baseball coaches in the state. 

Dwight Smith’s impact on players has been tremendous. Even younger players have come to appreciate Chief and his yelling, complaining, and storytelling at summer baseball camps. College coaches have come to work with those young players because they are friends with Dwight. After those camps, as well as after practices and on weekends, I can see in my mind a bird-legged, hairy chested man raising a cloud of dust as he raked the infield. Dwight has done it all and loved every minute of it.  

Over the past few years, Dwight has faced some health issues, and his strength has been sapped enough for him to use a walker. He speaks slower now, and perhaps that’s a good thing; otherwise, he might still be talking to Saturday’s crowd. How important has Dwight Smith been to baseball and to his teams? Ask the nearly 20 former players who took a Saturday to congratulate their favorite coach for being inducted to the Hall of Fame and for the things he did to help them become better men. We should all hope to have such an impact.  

Dwight, you deserve being inducted in the HOF. My final hope is that beside your name is a photo of you wearing those shorts and socks you loved so much. Congratulations friend! 

VACUUMS

 Daddy never taught us boys how to build anything, fix plumbing, or work on a car. Mother didn’t either, but she made sure her three sons weren’t dependent upon their wives to clean house. For as long as I can remember, we did that. One of the biggest jobs was vacuuming. I’m an old man now, and I still break out the vacuum when I clean house. The appliances have sure changed over the years.  

The first vacuum I used was a strange contraption. It was round with a removable bottom. A rubber gasket circled the bottom in which water was poured. No wheels on the bottom made picking the clunky machine up and carrying it from room to room a necessity. What we boys hated was being the last person to use the vacuum because that boy had to take the bottom off again and pour the putrid water from it and rinse it out.  

When that one died, Mother bought an aqua-colored Electrolux tear drop shaped vacuum. All the attachments were on the top of the cannister, and it rolled with ease on three wheels. At first, we boys enjoyed the new vacuum, but eventually, the newness gave way to the boredom of spending every Saturday morning cleaning house. That blue Electrolux had a sturdy motor; Mother still used it long after we boys had gone to college and work and had married.  

Amy and I had an upright vacuum. I hated the thing because it was big and bulky and difficult to maneuver around furniture and from room to room. At some point we bought a cheap vacuum that was tan and white and had the shape of a spaceship. It swallowed dirt, dust, baby powder, and Barbie pieces. I’m not sure, but I think that the motor burned up from using the thing to clean up sawdust and sheetrock dust during one of the house additions/renovations we undertook. 

The best decision we made about house cleaning was installing a built-in system. With several hook-ups throughout the house, the vacuuming job became much easier. One was in the garage, and I could clean car interiors without lugging everything out of and back in the house. We even had a slot in the kitchen that allowed us to sweep the dirt into the system. The 20-foot electrical cord and hose make moving from room to kitchen to den a breeze. 

The other day Amy decided that we need something to quickly vacuum a room or other space So, we are buying a Shark Stick. I’m not sure where we’ll store the thing, and I can only hope that my wife will show me how to use it. Keeping up with technology is important when it comes to vacuums.  

My prayer is that I have plenty of time to use this new vacuum and the built-in one. I never want to live in an assisted living facility where someone comes in to clean things. For 60 years, the vacuum is tool with which I am most skilled. I’d like to say it’s the hammer, but I’m better at cleaning up sawdust than making it.  

THINGS AREN'T MUCH BETTER

 Well, I certainly expected some good things, or at least better ones, to come with the new year. However, fate, karma, the good Lord, or something made the decision to keep things going the same. It’s been a long stretch for even the strongest optimist.  

Millions of us nervously waited for the Covid 19 vaccinations and boosters, and we faithfully stood in lines or reserved dates to receive them. About 62% of Americans have been vaccinated. That means 4 out of 10 folks are in danger of contracting the latest variant of Covid19: Omicron. Although some break-through cases have appeared in vaccinated individuals, the majority of infected people haven’t been vaccinated. Right now, our country is seeing record hospitalizations and new infections every day. This is year 3 of this pandemic, but some folks just haven’t gotten the message yet.  

Yesterday, a report indicated that our carbon emissions into the atmosphere rose 6% last year. I can understand that such increases were going to happen as more people ventured out of their homes and back to work and to stores. Still, we are poisoning the air that we breathe and the atmosphere that protects us. My greatest concern is that our attention to cleaning up this earth will wane. That means some people alive today will find new beaches closer to home as sea levels rise. Killer storms will continue to descend on communities and destroy homes, businesses, and lives.  

The U.S. finally exited a war that had dragged on for 20 years. Yet, before we could take a deep breath and let out a long sigh, Russia amassed its troops and war machine around Ukraine. Putin then began threatening with a list of ultimatums that neither the U.S. nor any other NATO nation was going to accept. The Russian leader seemed to be just out of kilter enough to be willing to start another war just to regain the power once held by the Soviet Union. The world might be witnessing the return of the Cold War.  

Inflation is slamming our economy. Citizens see it clearest in the soaring prices at the gas pump. Even more shocking are the prices at the grocery store. They keep climbing, and families are cutting items from their normal diets because they can no longer afford to purchase them. Even items such as Coke and Pepsi are raising prices by whopping amounts.  

When inflation is controlled, the sure bet is that prices at the pump and in the aisles won’t drop. Once businesses gain a hold on higher prices, they are hesitant to lose gains to give customers a break. Any increases workers achieve in pay are gobbled up by soaring prices on necessities.  

Our government is still as divided as at any time in history. Parties refuse to work together to solve problems. Instead of working on problems, representatives choose to fight any idea the opposition suggests. More important to them is whether they can win re-election. “To hell with the citizens” is their mantra. Loyalty to a person or party provides safety for their positions. In the meantime, democracy swirls around the bowl.  

So little is needed to make this year a good one. Vaccinations will relieve the crunch on the healthcare system. Standing strong against a dictator requires calling his bluff and seeing if he will endanger his country should he push war. Freezing prices for 90 days will help families to stretch their paychecks until prices are rolled back. As important as anything is our work on electing persons who are more interested in caring for citizens than their personal wealth and success.  

I hope we see a sharp turnaround so that by summer we are once again the shining beacon on the hill and the country which others look to for guidance. We shall see soon enough because the years seem to fly by. 

THE STRESS OF WAITING

 Remember this time of year when you were a child? How much more excited could you have been to know Santa was going to visit and leave presents? Another time to remember is that last day of school before summer vacation. The arms of the clock crawled around its face. We couldn’t wait and grew surly when things didn’t happen on our timetables, Impatience begins at birth when babies squall for the bottle and rarely ebbs as he ages.  

These days, we’re more impatient than ever before. Thousands of families order food from restaurants for their supper. Parents and frazzled with all the things that require their time, and the children are constantly hungry, especially before they attend a practice or rehearsal. If that food arrives just a minute late, folks are angry blast delivery workers at the front door. Schedules explode and stress levels rise.  

In years gone by, consumers placed orders with companies for items. Then they waited for the product to arrive via the mail or some delivery company. Frustrated customers might call the company to check on an order’s status. Still, we had a bit more patience and realized that, in most cases, our lives weren’t adversely affected by that delivery. 

Thanks to such companies as Amazon, delivery times are usually within a couple of days. When our merchandise fails to be sitting on our front porch on the second day, our tempers flare. We ordered those “things” with the promise that they would be delivered on a specific day. If they don’t, we’re ready to sue the entire world. Never mind that most of our online orders are things we want, not things we need.  

For some of us of an older generation, writing letters was something we enjoyed doing. Like birthday cards with notes and signatures, they were personalized and meant more to folks who received them. Having someone to write back thrilled children because they rarely, if ever, received any mail. 

In our busy world, few people take the time to write a letter. Sure, the prices of stamps have been inflated so much that mailing letters just isn’t worth it. Most folks communicate through emails. I admit that I do it. Doing so is much easier, the cost is nothing, and the message arrives immediately. We can carry on “in-real-time" conversations with folks across the country by texting from our phones. Yes, it’s convenient, but I still miss the personalized touch of a letter. 

The same is true with cell phones. They allow us to talk with people anytime and anywhere. For some reason, our phone calls have become overly important. In a time before these cursed things, we would listen to the message left on the recorder after we arrived home, and before that, we didn’t know anyone called until they did so again and told us.  

I haven’t figured out why all of us are in such a hurry. Life is a race when it should be a stroll. Our patience would improve if so many of these timesaving devices didn’t exist. I carry a phone in my pocket every time I leave the house. The only folks who call me are Amy, who might need me to run an errand while I’m out, my son Dallas, who just wants to chew the fat, and companies that are concerned that my car’s warranty has run out. I’d rather sit back and slow down for a while. Life is much more enjoyable that way.