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Spring is in the Air

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Ruth Ryan

Ruth Ryan

Ah, spring, when a young man’s fancy turns to love. In the Ryan household, our thoughts always turned to baseball in the spring.  Even as early as late January, our family would start helping Nolan get ready for spring training by playing catch with him in the yard.  Part of the 80 acres where we lived in Alvin was turned into a practice field with a backstop, and the kids and I would take turns playing long toss or taking batting practice with Nolan. There were a few minor injuries such as shin bruises or bumps on the head. I once had the wind knocked out of me from a wayward throw when I wasn’t looking.

The Ryan kids were always involved in organized sports, and because of the length of Nolan’s career, I ended up coaching some of their t-ball and Little League teams.  In my very first game of coaching the 8 and 9 year olds, I was anxious to make a good impression.  When our first batter swung and missed at strike three, the ball got by the catcher and rolled to the backstop.  I hollered for our batter to run to first base.  He looked at me rather quizzically and just stood at home plate.  When I hollered at him again to run to first base, the umpire kindly called time and walked over to inform me that the kids were not allowed to run to first on strike three.  Right off the bat (so to speak) I was embarrassed, but the other coaches and parents were nice and helpful. I enjoyed every minute that I spent with my kids and their teammates.

However, I must admit that there were a few trying times with parents.  I’m sure that any of you moms or dads that have ever coached your child’s team will know what I mean. Sometimes a parent would want a child to play more often, to play a different position, to practice five times a week instead of two and so on and so on.  Advice was freely given, but I just wanted to keep it fun and to let everyone play.  As long as the kids showed up for practice, they played in the games.  Hopefully those kids learned some fundamentals of baseball, got some fresh air and exercise and enjoyed themselves.  I always laugh when I think about coaching my younger son and daughter’s t-ball team.  As soon as the game was over the kids would ask, “Did we win?” and “Do we get a snow cone?”  “Yes” and “yes” were always my replies.

I guess there were “parent problems” even when Nolan played Little League in the 1950s.  My Dad was an umpire then in Alvin, and my sister and I used to go to the games because there was nothing else to do in those days.   One mother in particular was always yelling and getting into arguments. Her voice got on everyone’s nerves.  While reminiscing recently with my parents, I asked them if they remembered this loud-mouth mother. My mother said, “You know, Ruthie, that’s the reason I gave your Dad a record player to take to the Little League field, and I told him to play music over the loudspeaker in between innings. I thought that the music would calm people down when it was hot and tempers were flaring.”  I couldn’t believe that was my mother’s idea, and it worked very well.  I can still hear Henry Mancini’s version of The Pink Panther over the loudspeaker.  I was lucky to have such excellent role models, and I am proud to say that my dad was instrumental in the integration of Alvin Little League.

Before Nolan and I moved from Alvin to Georgetown, I was outside playing tennis one day (on the court that used to be the kids’ practice field).  A young man and his wife drove up the driveway and got out of their car.  ‘Hey, Mrs. Ryan. Remember me? I was on the pee wee baseball team with your son when you coached us. Do you remember when you took us all to an Astros baseball game and then let us spend the night at your house?’  (There’s no way I could forget that night, I thought to myself.)  ‘Of course,’ I replied.  ‘That was a lot of fun.’ To my surprise, he said, ‘Yea, I was so disappointed when I woke up the next morning and went downstairs to your kitchen.  I just knew that you would be fixing us all a big hot breakfast, but you just gave us some waffles and cereal and then we had to go home.’  Gee, and I was hoping that he would remember me as having a positive impact on his life.  Guess I should have fixed scrambled eggs and bacon.

Editor's Note: Ruth Ryan is a contributing writer for The Buzz Magazines and wife of baseball Hall-of-Famer, Nolan Ryan.

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