Huba Johnson and other baseball stories

I don't have a lot of summer stories to tell about what went on in town because our family moved to our summer home on Portage Lake in Boot Jack.

The following story line could have happened in early fall or late spring of the school year about 1952.

 What happened next?

There were eight bars on our end of town if you count the "315 CLUB" where Bob saw Huba that morning while delivering the Milwaukee Journal. What happened next was a spontaneous event that boys can invent as things go along. Someone went in the saloon and brought him out to the sidewalk. One of the boys yelled, "Huba, throw a few pitches for us". There was no ball, so he would have to pretend it. I quickly ran a ways down the sidewalk and crouched down in the catcher position. Another kid took the position of batter, but there wasn't any bat either. Someone ran behind me and acted as umpire. A couple other kits were the fan hecklers and now the game started.

Now, Huba's face turned cold serious as he looked in for the "sign". Then he went into the "stretch" and then the "pitch". He seemed to stumble a bit after that as he was a little tipsy by now but he stayed on his feet. The umpire yelled "strike" and I threw the pretend ball back to him. We managed to get about eight pitches out of him. Huba was getting his baseball legs back and really enjoying him self. The umpire gave him a full count of two strikes, a couple foul balls and three balls. One of the hecklers yelled, " Huba, the bases are loaded and you gotta get him out". The last pitch was a swing and a miss. The umpire said, "Three strikes and your out." Huba then gave us all a look with a big smile, waved his hand and went back in the saloon. That event gave us a big thrill and we still tell the story till this day.

 Holly Jean (Anderson) Mc Cullgough?

The late Holly Jean was my first cousin and I didn't know she was a locally famous pitcher (I left home 50 years ago) in the "fast pitch" womens baseball league. I'll write more on her when I fine the material.

 A Bob story

Us younger kids didn't have much pocket money as we played soft ball with quite wornout balls. One way to get a better soft ball was to hang out at the man's fast pitch soft ball games in the evening. A couple boys would stand behind the back screen and retrieve balls that went over the fence and throw them over. Every now and then, there would be a ball they just could not find, that is until after the game and everyone left.

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