When I was five years old and my brother was eleven, I was forced to learn how to play baseball with him. He threw as hard as he possibly could when I was at bat, and on more than one occasion, he hit me in the head with a side armed fast- ball! When I was eleven years old, Franklin started an official little league baseball organization. I have the distinction of being the first player ever chosen. This came after tryouts a couple of nights prior to player selection. When I was twelve years old, we played for the state championship in Louisiana. I also have the distinction of being the "Babe Ruth" of the Franklin Little League! I held the home run record for nearly ten years before a boy who participated in more games as a result of expansion teams broke the record. "Tourette Syndrome" is probably the catalyst that made me excel! Whenever everyone else went home, I just stayed and played ball by myself! I taught myself how to hit a baseball by standing in front of the house, and hitting clamshells with a tomato stake. I did this for hours and hours, and I can't ever remember getting tired of the repetition! My thinking, other than I enjoyed what I was doing, was that if I could hit a clamshell with a tomato stake, then I surely would have no trouble hitting a baseball with a bat.
The season we played for the state championship was quite special. We lost in the state finals, but it was quite an honor to be runner-ups! In the first playoff game, we hosted Jeanerette. As their players arrived, I heard one quite large boy,"Big Joe Grizaffi", remark, " Those fences look awfully close"! His fellow teammate remarked, "They might look close to you, Joe". I was about four and a half feet tall by then, and he looked like he was about nine feet tall. I hit the first home run of the game in the first inning. In the third inning, Louis Hebert, in leftfield and I in center, began to watch the "close fences" seem to disappear. The Jeanerette team hit three home runs in succession. At this point we were trailing seven to three with the bases loaded and nobody out. What a fine time for the coach to call me in from centerfield to relieve the starting pitcher, Nicholas Arton! I walked the first batter I faced scoring another run making it eight to three. However, that was it, as I struck out eight of the eleven batters that faced me! As I recall things now, it amuses me to think that "Big Joe" came up three times, I threw him nine pitches, and he never touched a single one! I guess the fences were a little farther than he first surmised. The score was tied in the bottom of the last inning. Albert Adams was on third and I was on first when the coach called for a timeout. He wanted me to run as fast as I could toward second, stop abruptly, and head back to first. He emphasized that I could not get thrown out, or we would lose the game, as there were already two outs. I did as I was told, and Dennis Aucoin, the Jeanerette catcher, thought he could get me at first to end the game, but I got back faster than he anticipated, and Albert stole home to win the game nine to eight!
Our next game was against Abbeville. I hit another home run and Louis Hebert hit two. We won that game five to four. The state finals were against a giant Monroe team. They just "Barely" beat us thirteen to five!
No story about my baseball career would be complete without talking about "Tommy Randazzo"! If you lived in St. Martinville and your name was Randazzo you pronounced it the way it is spelled. If you lived in Franklin and your name was Randazzo, it is pronounced Randozza. The "Doza", as his friends affectionately knew him, was quite a story indeed! He was the kind of kid whose uniform was two or three shades darker than anyone else's after only the first game! He could throw a baseball farther and harder than anyone else could even imagine. However, it was anyone's guess as to where it would be thrown! So, when you went up to bat against "The Doza", it was a good idea to hang loose! The fans had a way of getting under his skin quite easily, and the more they got under his skin, the wilder he got and the harder he threw! I recall coming to bat against him one night with the bases loaded. I ducked a couple of hard, wild pitches, then I smacked a grand slam home run off of him, as I rounded second I noticed him throw his cap into the dirt! But, "The Doza" and I were buddies so I did not take the gesture personally!
The "Doza" and I were in the same class in the eighth grade. Roger Robinson, a young teacher at the time and also a polio victim, was our teacher. He walked on crutches, the kind that wrap around the forearm, so his arms were his substitute legs. I might add they were just as strong as his legs would have been had he not had polio! As typical eighth graders are likely to do, we attempted to take advantage of his good nature. Our class was isolated on the third floor of the school. Roger kept a three cornered stick which he used on anyone who acted out in his classroom. He would take us out to the study hall, have us bend over a vacant desk, and smack the shit out of our Asses! The "Doza" and I made a game out of Screaming out in Pain! This, of course, was an exercise in futility, because the principal's office was on the first floor, and he probably did not give a damned anyway! I must admit the licks stung like hell, but neither of us would admit to that! I was in the lead for licks received going into the final days of that school year, but in the end, the "Doza" edged me out by two licks!
I recall now that eighth grade was a really good time! During basketball season that year, the "Doza" got a putt-putt motor scooter to transport him all around town. It was as real piece of junk, but it was better than anything I had! One afternoon, following basketball practice, I hurried through my shower so that I could beat the "Doza" outside! When I got to his scooter, I opened the gas cap and pissed as much as I could into the fuel tank. Hurrying not to get caught, I caught my "Weeble" in my zipper, Oh that hurt! Anyway, the next day, I asked the "Doza" how his scooter ran. He said, "It was missing as though he was running out of gas." However when he checked his fuel tank, it was nearly full. He found that peculiar, because he was sure that he only had one quarter of a tank before leaving the gym! I don't think he ever figured out what had actually happened!
Then there was the time when we were playing American Legion ball; the best team in the league was Shell Royal from Lafayette, LA. The "Doza" said to us, "give me one run and I will whip Shell Royal". We gave him a run in the first inning, and they went on to beat us thirteen to one!
The "Doza" decided to come out for the football team when we were freshmen. They gave him the shabbiest uniform I have ever laid eyes on, it was definitely the "Doza's" style! He was to be made into a wide receiver, and his idea of a wide receiver was to go deep and score a touchdown on every passing play! The coaches tried their best to get him to run up field for ten yards, stop suddenly, and break for the sideline to catch a short pass. They tried three or four times, but he was intent on going deep! Finally Mike Simmons, head coach, had Dan Brumfield, assistant coach, stand ten yards from the line of scrimmage. This time when the "Doza" went toward the end zone, he was met by a sudden push by Dan Brumfield, and Mike Simmons hit him on the side of his helmet with the football. The "Doza" turned his equipment in that afternoon, and his football career was over before it had really begun!
The "Doza's" brightest days were behind him as we got out of school! He went to Viet Nam, and when he was called upon to serve a second tour, he went AWOL! Can't really say that I blamed him, but Uncle Sam was not so forgiving! He spent a stretch in Leavenworth, and he told me that he was the "ace" on the prison roster! As a matter of fact, he told me that he could have gotten a "Press-Box Pass" to the World Series games for me if he had only known that I wanted one! The "Doza" later moved to New Orleans, and he returned to Franklin in an old black and white Cadillac. Shortly afterwards he presented in the emergency room at Franklin Foundation Hospital with an overwhelming chest infection. He died a very young man, and the final chapter in the life of one of my most colorful classmates had come to an abrupt end!
My high school days were a good time in my life! Academics I found to be of no great challenge, and sports were a big part of my life. I was the starting Quarterback for FHS for three years. An injury in my sophomore year knocked me out of basketball, and for whatever reason, we did not have a baseball team, so as soon as football season was over, I began running track. I don't know where my speed came from, but I don't think that I ever played in a football game where I was not the fastest man on the field. By this time, I had grown to five and a half feet, where I remain today. I began to experience phonic tics for the first time while playing football. I found that I could not call the plays in the huddle, I just snorted, tried covering up with a cough, and felt very embarrassed. I finally learned to just go up to another back after each play, and tell him to call what I wanted in the huddle. I never had trouble calling the signals at the line, however. I still, at times, have the same problem, when I am talking on the telephone. This happens particularly if I try to read something to someone or simply if I just need to talk to a doctor or nurse about a particularly important topic.
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