Batter up … pt. 1

“I cannot control the truth of death, whatever my desperation. I can only make certain that those moments of my life I have remaining are as rich as they can be.”

Drizzt Do’Urden (Icewind Dale Triology, The Halfling’s Gem)

My enthusiasm for the sport of baseball was not passed down to me by my dad, an uncle nor a family friend with a passion for the game. I find this regrettable because, like being able to change the oil, fix a faucet or make the world’s best lasagna, an appreciation for and understanding of baseball is best acquired as an apprentice. When baseball finds you that way, you know the answer to, “What team do you root for?” You can probably score a game, neatly crack peanut shells and have nostalgic memories of being handed a hot dog with mustard, wrapped in aluminum foil, by the really loud guy tromping up and down the stairs. I came to baseball as an adult, and, although I can score a game and have eaten my share of peanuts and hot dogs, I still haven’t acquired a special affinity for any one team. My journey took a different route. In Batter Up … part one, I’ll tell you about the most influential of the factors that has led me toward claiming my place as a fan.

Ted Smith, zikhrono livrakha, started work at the UO Libraries in March of 1994, and over the years, we became fast friends. Ted was hired as the Documents Librarian, and, while we connected as library professionals, I came to know and regard him as a baseball super fan. Ted had a deep and abiding love for the game, and, typical of those steeped in baseball lore, he knew its history, the players, who was in the Hall of Fame, the stats, etc. Over the numerous coffee breaks we shared, we played the “World Series Game;” I’d throw out a year, and Ted would tell me the teams that played and who won. I fact checked him on my phone, always marveling at the accuracy of his answers. My memory for facts and figures is abysmal, so this parlor trick never ceased to amaze me.

Ted rooted for the Atlanta Braves, the Houston Astros and above all his beloved LA Dodgers. I learned early on that bringing up the New York Yankees was apt to trigger an avalanche of scorn, so it only made sense to do so when I wanted to get his goat. Ted had amassed an impressive collection of baseball cards, took his family on baseball vacations and joined me in the delight we shared when the University of Oregon decided to bring baseball back as a Division 1 sport. From 2003 until 2009, Ted served as the Commissioner for the Eugene Fantasy Baseball League (more on that in a later post). Ted christened his fantasy team, “Teddy’s Ballgame,” and he was always in contention to win the League trophy. Along the way, Ted and I decided to join the Northwest Chapter of the Society for American Baseball Research (SABR), and we attended a number of Chapter meetings together. Ted made sure to pass along his love for baseball to his sons, Colin and Trevor, and eventually I joined the party.

More than perhaps any other sport, baseball lends itself to the pursuit of research owing to the immense amount of data generated and religiously tracked. Encompassing all the major movements and issues of our times (e.g., industrialization, war, depression, civil rights, labor disputes, performance enhancing drugs, etc.), baseball serves as a lens through which one can understand our national identity and trace the growing pains of the country. Hitting upon the idea that we could work the American pastime into our work as librarians, Ted and I developed the curriculum for a baseball research course. Offered as a Freshman Seminar at the UO, an elective for first-year students, we taught the 3-credit class during the springs 2003, 2005, 2007 and 2009. Seeing the word “baseball” in the course catalog, eager freshmen always filled up the class within the first five minutes of open registration. It was kind of sneaky of us, but it proved to be a great way to introduce basic research strategies and concepts using a framework in which the students never had any trouble coming up with a topic they wanted to investigate. After all, what freshman is going to sign up for a class called “Library Research?”

Experience in teaching the course led to writing an article that now resides in the library’s repository–Scholar’s Bank–as well as a presentation at the annual conference of the Oregon Library Association on the topic of “Take Me Out to the Library.” We also collaborated with our colleague Blake Scott to mount an exhibit that highlighted baseball materials available in the library’s collections and in the University archives. The exhibit featured a research project undertaken to discover the secrets of a ball
autographed by a barnstorming team of Major League players on October 6, 1932 at Devil’s Lake, North Dakota, provided a history of varsity baseball at the University and paid a tribute to baseball fans.  A portion of the exhibit is archived online.

In 2008, Ted and I applied for and received a grant from the National Endowment of the Humanities to bring the traveling exhibition, “Pride & Passion: The African-American Baseball Experience” to the library. Upon acceptance, Ted had the privilege of visiting the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, NY to learn about our responsibilities in relation to hosting the exhibit. One such obligation was to organize several community events, so we invited two distinguished authors to come and present lectures. Arnold Rampersad, Stanford, spoke about his biography of Jackie Robinson, and Lee Lowenfish presented his book entitled, “Branch Rickey: Baseball’s Ferocious Gentleman.” Owing to the success of the course, we also received inquiries from other from interested parties. At one point, an executive from the Society of American Baseball Research (SABR) approached us about creating an online version of the class. We worked up a syllabus and even shot some video, but project was never brought to fruition. Along the way, we were also able to help author, David Surdam, with his research for the book “The Post-War Yankees,” which was published in 2008.

Over the years that we taught the class and interacted with our students, Ted and I also started building a first-rate baseball collection. Emboldened by the fact that we had students researching the sport, Ted and I purchased numerous books for the library collection. By 2005, an analysis of regional library baseball collections revealed that the UO Libraries could lay claim to the biggest and most in-depth set of baseball resources in the Northwest. We declared victory.

This blend of personal and professional interaction drew Ted and I closely together. We felt blessed to have crossed paths and to have fallen into a dream scenario in our work. Yet, an ominous cloud hung over the years during which we cultivated our friendship. In December of 1998, Ted was diagnosed with lymphoma–a disease that would steadily progress over the next eleven years and eventually claim his life. Two stem-cell transplants, cataract surgery, a collapsed lung, a zillion trips to the doctor, never-ending tests, scans and multiple sets of chemotherapy sent Ted to the hospital a number of times over that period. His body began to age and weaken under the constant bombardment of treatment that sapped his immune system and slowed his steps to the point of near crawl. Multiple times during the spring terms when we taught our course, I received messages from Ted that he would not make it to class. I soldiered on, once through a session on baseball statistics, a subject on which I normally deferred to my more knowledgeable partner.

At the beginning of December 2009, I went to the ICU at Riverbend Hospital to sit by Ted’s bedside knowing that his chances of leaving this time were poor. Because of his compromised immune system, Ted had contracted H1N1 and was succumbing to pneumonia. He lay in bed with a breathing mask over his face, making conversation nearly impossible. When I left the room, joining other friends in waiting outside, we tried to comfort each other, knowing that our dear friend was slipping away. On December 3rd, I got the word that Ted had died of respiratory failure. To this day, I can still access the feelings of loss that I felt so keenly in that moment.

The memorial service for Ted was held on December 11th at the church, Valley Covenant, where he had attended with his family. Although I’ve concentrated on Ted’s love of baseball, his faith in God was equally strong, and this greatly influenced his outlook on life, helped him endure the decade of illness and provided comfort and reassurance as the cancer brought his life to a close. I like to envision him in the Elysian Fields calling balls and strikes behind the plate on a beautiful summer afternoon.

As a tribute to Ted, another librarian, Paul Frantz, and I took over the planning for the exhibit and even made a road trip to Helena, MT to collect some Jackie Robinson memorabilia that author and baseball aficionado Craig Wight generously lent to us for the event. We also taught the baseball research course in 2011 and again in 2013, and savored the privilege of having Ted’s youngest son, Trevor, take the class in his freshman year at the UO. Finally, Paul and I worked with several other colleagues to celebrate Ted’s legacy by naming the library’s baseball collection in his honor. A plaque was designed and mounted in the library stacks and a gift fund was set up in Ted’s name to facilitate the ongoing development of the collection. On December 22, we held a dedication ceremony with Ted’s wife Kathy and his two sons in attendance.

Knowing Ted was a great privilege. He enriched my life in so many ways, but his most enduring gift was taking me on as a baseball apprentice. I am a fan today because of Ted, his great love for the game and his willingness to share it with me.