Oregon 59ers

Month: November 2018

Ballpark Memories of the Portland Mavericks

Sports History

When I was a young boy, my father took me into the city to see a baseball game. It was Portland’s Civic Stadium, the year was 1973, and the team was the Portland Mavericks. Over the next few years, we would see several more games and, while my memory can’t differentiate one year from another, there were several memorable moments.

The first, of course, was experiencing the crowds, the smells, and the feeling of space as I sat in a stadium for the first time. It is interesting that the smell of mustard, hotdogs, peanuts, and quite frankly people (this was the age of tobacco usage) overshadowed individual strikeouts, defensive plays, and scores in the mind of a child.

Nonetheless, there were a number of memories that stuck with me about the Mavericks and Portland Beavers of my youth:

  • The announcer calling “Terry T-bone Jones!” and “Here Comes Reggie!” when two of our better batters would come up to the plate.
  • Seeing the ball get stuck on the Jantzen Swimwear three-dimensional model in left field. That, by the way, is a ground rule double.
  • In different games, watching Luis Tiant and Jim Bouton pitch, and Willie Stargell knocking a home run onto the deck of the Mac Club.
  • I remember seeing actor Kurt Russell playing for the team.
  • I remember seeing a foul ball sizzling toward us and break the ankle of the woman in the row in front of us. It was a reminder to keep my eyes open and pay attention at all sporting events.

The banner pictured above is a memento of that time. I believe I have others as well and will post them as I go through the junk pile we call the garage at our house. Just kidding, we keep an immaculate house. Just kidding, the truth is somewhere in between.

An unlikely history buff

Human History

I’ve never avoided history but, for many years, history avoided me.  I’d say the highlight of my grade school years was visiting the living history of Chief Lelooska.  I still remember the aroma of cedar and fire smoke and the songs and the stories.  Outside of that, I probably learned most of my history and civics through Schoolhouse Rock.

In junior high, my history teacher was a coach who was more interested in coaching than history. In high school, I  unintentionally avoided history altogether.

In community college, my history teacher was more interested in baseball stories than in history. I learned a little bit but, considering I was taking a full year of history, I didn’t learn much.  The less I attended class, the better my grades became.

There were a few years after college where I worked minimum-wage jobs before I finally made a living wage. Since I didn’t make a lot of money, I got my entertainment from reading books purchased at a used bookstore complete with cat.

It was there that I found the book, Sarum, which was a historical novel following a family from Neolithic times to present in England. That kindled a spark within me that would lead to a greater interest in human history.

Marrying into a family whose roots run deep in the state of Oregon and well before its founding brought me fully into the fold. Not only did I have to keep up at the family dinner table, but I found myself more and more intrigued with how we all got here to where we are today.

Not everything I learned was complementary to human nature, but striving for the truth of what happened and how people acted proved worthy of my inquiry. I’ve read books about the Oregon Trail and John Jacob Astor’s party who came out West as well as historical fiction such as Don Berry’s Trask novel.

My in-laws have history dating back to French-Canadian fur trappers and interactions with the local Kalapuyan original people. It is a rich and rewarding experience to learn about their history. It makes me think about my own history and I am only now “putting out the feelers” on my own experience.

I thank you for visiting this page and hope that your rich past becomes an experience that is a source of pride for you, if it is not already.