Student-Run Softball Made for Super Memories
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I went to Ann Arbor Huron High
School, considered by every objective source to be the greatest high
school in the history of the universe. And one of the things that made
it so great when I was there was an intramural softball league.
Maybe your clearly inferior
high school had one, too. But the IM softball league at Huron
was created and run entirely by students – the burnouts, no less.
That meant the adults, perhaps wisely, wanted nothing to do with it.
So the burn-outs got the park
permits – God bless ‘em -- and every clique had a team, from the
guys in auto shop to marching band. They gave their teams names
like the Extra Burly Studs, the Master Batters and – yes – the ‘Nads.
If you pause to think of their cheer, you’ll get the joke.
My buddies and I failed to
get a team together our junior year, but our senior year, we found inspiration.
Most of my friends weren’t playing spring sports, so we came home
every day after school to catch "Leave It To Beaver" re-runs
on channel 20 – on something called UHF. (Kids, go ask Grandpa.)
Come softball season, we were
moved to build a team around that very name: The Cleavers. But if we
were going to face battle-tested squads like the All-Star Rogues and
the Ghetto Tigers, we knew we’d need an edgier name. And that’s
when we came up with – yes – the Almighty Cleavers.
You know, to instill fear in our opponents.
You can imagine how well that
worked.
Our next stroke of genius was
our uniform: we each got one of our dads’ undershirts, then used a
laundry marker to write one of the characters’ names on the back:
Ward, Wally, Eddie – we had ‘em all. Now all we needed were
ten more players.
No problem. Once word
got out about our hardcore name and unis, people flocked to our team,
even a half-dozen women. None of the other teams were co-ed, but there
was no rule against it – because there were almost no rules.
That’s what you get when you play in a league founded by burnouts.
We didn’t just expect to
lose. We were built to lose. But we didn’t care.
In fact, that was our team motto: “We Don’t Care.” Whenever somebody
was seen running too hard or – god forbid – sliding into home plate,
we started our chant: “We Don’t Care! We Don’t Care!”
The girls could play wherever
they wanted, and nobody was allowed to yell at anyone, no matter how
badly they screwed up.
It probably helped that, like
most teams, we brought cooling beverages to each game, be they “jumbos”
of Goebel’s. “torpedoes” of Colt 45 or, for big games, an actual
quarter barrel of Stroh’s Bohemian Style. We’d set it up right
at the corner of Huron Parkway and Fuller, with Lord knows how many
teachers, parents and police officers driving by. No one cared.
Yes, I know we were being stupid
and illegal, but you have to remember this was at a time when Huron
had a smoking lounge for students, Ann Arbor had a five-dollar pot law,
and the Almighty Cleavers were probably on the conservative side of
things. Okay, on a very relative scale. And all of it might
explain why I can’t recall a single fight among the twelve tribes
that played. (Take that any way you want.)
But what I saw next defied
explanation: Against a bunch of guys who clearly wanted to beat us,
our coed squad won the game. And then, another. And another.
It was incredible. Once the
girls realized they weren’t going to get yelled at, their Inner Softball
Players came out – and before we knew it, we finished the regular
season at 9-2, in second place.
Well, our magical season had
to come to an end, and it did – with a playoff loss to the always-tough
Junior Junkies. Even more heartbreaking, actor Hugh Beaumont, who played
Ward Cleaver, died the week before, prompting all of us to draw black
armbands on our sacred jerseys.
But then, something even stranger
happened. The mother of one of our founders happened to be the president
of the American Psychiatric Association, so reporters were always calling
her up to get her expert opinion on this or that. When an Associated
Press reporter asked her about violence on television, she finally said,
“Well, it can’t be that bad. My son watches ‘Leave
it to Beaver’ every day with his buddies.’”
It just so happened the reporter
was a big “Leave it to Beaver” fan, and voila! All of a sudden our
team was on the AP wire, in the Detroit News, the Detroit Free Press
and featured in TV Guide, for crying out loud.
My grandparents, in from Eastern
Canada, must have been completely confused – or simply assumed all
American teenagers appear in national stories for playing IM softball
as a rite of passage before graduating. But the unexpected attention
wasn’t the point.
I don’t know if I’ve ever
had more fun playing anything than I did playing intramural softball
that spring. No parents, no umpires, no rules except most runs wins
– and win or lose, get over it. “No One Cares!”
It was low-rent, small stakes,
and big, big fun – because it was ours.
I don’t think kids today
have any idea what that feels like.
Copyright© 2011, Michigan Radio Follow me on Twitter: http://twitter.com/johnubacon
The Almighty Cleavers had it over on the first softball team I played on at the age of 18. They (We) were called the Castros (after the dictator). Our uniforms consisted of green army field ball-like hats, Houston Astros orange striped jerseys with the letter C sewn in front of the "Astros". Some of the fellows wore baseball pants, while others wore fatigues. I had put the memory of that team into the deep recesses of my mind. However, your story flushed the memory out into full view. I must end my blogging now for a shower and many sessions with a therapist! Thanks!!
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Mr. Watts,
Let me just say this: I hope none of the former members of the Castros ever run for office -- especially if there are pictures. Well, at least not in this country, anyway.
Fun story.
-JUB
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Hello John,
What a great blog! It brings back memories of games (sports and others) that were not supervised by adults and we made up the rules. Nothing but fun, and the only bloody noses came from falling down or getting hit by a ball...no fights, no anger, just fun. I think we have become too specialized and too serious for our youth.
Thank you for a great blog!!
Jerry G
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Thanks, Jerry!
Loved those days, and the easier way of doing most things. Of course, there is no way students could do this today -- let alone conceive of it! -- but perhaps that is not a bad thing after all. I would hate to have to refrain from driving from 5-7 p.m. on Tuesdays and Thursdays every spring just to avoid those damn high school kids leaving their ballparks!
-JUB
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As a member of the "Studley Dudleys", 78', I also played in "the league". Our squad, with a star studded line-up that included, Tim "Rocky" Stapleton, Co-founder, Doug "Wheezer" Enck, Co-founder, Jim "Nate" Shipman, Roger "Earl from Dixboro" Black, amongst others I can't remember at the moment, finished the regular season undefeated. We had high hopes going into the Championship game, a close contest, that ended in a bench clearing brawl. We were ahead at the time, and justly declared the Champs!
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Mr. Hooker,
Ha - great stuff! Amazingly, I know everyone on that list, all friends, and even inherited Roger Black's bucket when I made the Huron hockey team the year after he graduated. But you didn't leave your name -- the only rule of this site, one I'm forever having to remind myself to enforce!
Amazed how many Rats have responded to this. I have not heard of another school that had something like it. Also surprised how many of the team names come back to me -- including yours.
Of course, my idealization of the league -- that we were all too tipsy to fight -- apparently is dispelled by your account of the '78 title game.
I'm sure you all have the trophies from your title on your mantles, and the accomplishment listed on your curriculum vitaes. As you should.
-JUB
p.s. Nagging questions: Who started the league -- the burn-outs? When? And when did it end?
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My rookie year in the league,'77, I played for the Burnouts. It was mostly a senior laden roster with names like Pete Mirages, Walt Wunsch, Corky Bunch, Brad Durbin, and others. I guess I was viewed as one who was most likely to carry on the legacy the following year, but "Free Agency" was discovered that summer, and Stroh's played a pivotal part in my decision to take my talents to the Studley Dudleys.
The league was loosely organized by a teacher at Huron at that time. Bob ? maybe. Tall, mustache, maybe a government teacher. Not sure when the league started, but it was a blast.
Rob DeBrooke (rules compliant signature)
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The description of that teacher sounds a lot like Mr. Stielstra. I remember being in his class that involved reading the newspaper a great deal.
Our team was the '80 All-Star Rogues, a group that continued to play successfully in the city league for a number of years after graduating from the intramural league.
There are a lot of familiar names in the previous comments. It appears that we all have similar fond memories of this league; although John's recollection of those times was filtered through a few cups of beer, it seems to be remarkably accurate.
Jay Woods
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Mssrs. DeBrooke and Woods,
Rob, I recall reading about your move to the Studley Dudleys -- covered by the local paper (yes, kids, we had one back then). Your decision to take your talents to a new franchise was very controversial, of course, with your press conference covered by the major sports cable outlet at the time, which wouldn't exist for two more years.
Mr. Woods, you are correct to praise me for recalling my favorite season -- or really, anything that spring. It might be my single greatest intellectual feat.
Fun to see how many people -- who can barely recall their third kids' name -- can summon these memories like it was yesterday. Must mean something.
-JUB
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I try to tell my kids how back in the late 70's and early 80's we played ball, whether softball, football, basketball all day. With as few as 3 players. With 3 players we would take turns being all time pitcher, or all time quarterback and play 1 on 1. Those were the days.
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Awesome!
One of these days I'll have to write about Three-Man Baseball: pitcher, hitter, and one fielder, who covered the half of the field the batter declared was fair, and you had to get to second base for a hit.
Back when men were men, of course.
-JUB
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Ah, remember it well. A 1/4 barrel on 2nd base. What an experience. I played for the Sophomore Mafia and loved it.
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Bill,
The best part was, I'm sure, either team could drink from the keg.
Illegal and stupid, perhaps -- but you have to appreciate the spirit of the times.
-JUB
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Hey Bake, it's your god-daughter, again (aka "Ward's" daughter. At least you didn't get kicked off the team! Technically I got cut... Tomato (tom/ay/to) Tomato (tom/ah/to). Oh, and I do know what "Leave it to Beaver" is!!!!!!
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The Mighty Jane Writes Again!
Ah yes, Ward himself. We all tried to pick characters that fit our personalities, more or less. And your father shared Mr. Cleaver's calm, steady maturity -- most of the time.
As for me, I was in homebuilding at the time - and loved it -- so picked the name Andy Hadlock, a drunken carpenter who appeared in only one episode. And you can keep your comments to yourself.
I am turning this manuscript in for good in six days! Then, Uncle Bake will resurface and return to his Godfatherly duties.
-JUB
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Classic! Still laughing and remembering the era.
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Bake- getting caught up on your blog now that I am back from Europe and living in Norcal. As a loyal teammate of the Almighty Cleavers, what a great chance to reminisce! You forgot to mention our appearance on the John Kelly show, Kelly & Company....when Jerry Mathers (the original "Beaver" on Leave it to Beaver) appeared on his show we decided to make the trip to Detroit and showed up with an commemorative "Almighty Cleavers" t-shirt. I had the privilege of being picked from the audience and presenting him with his honorary jersey. I am sure my Mom still has the tape of the show (granted it was Betamax, so good luck finding a VCR to play it back).
See you at the 30th reunion...I will bring picts of my son "Yost", who is a hockey goalie.
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