Fielder’s Choice

Coaches yelled a lot back in the late 1970s – including Richard Franks.

He was my high school baseball coach at Hamilton, Ala., High School, and also my B-team basketball coach.

At times, I didn’t like him.

Like the time we were going up against rival Haley - ville, Ala., on the road. I was playing third base.

One of the opposing players hit a very high pop-up in the area behind third. I didn’t call it. I thought I heard my teammate at shortstop call it – from behind me. It dropped.

Coach went crazy. It was totally my fault – the worst of any mental error I ever made while playing the sport. But at the same time, I didn’t want the chewing.

Coach had his more gentle side, too. He liked to cut up with his guys, and the good times far out-weighed the notso- good ones.

Most of the time, I liked him. He cared about his players. He always had our backs.

Overall, it was a lot of fun playing for Coach Franks.

And of course, after I graduated high school and looked back on my baseball-playing days, those loud words of instruction or correction from Coach Franks were not so bad either. I needed them.

My baseball experience in my high school years is something I have cherished all the way to almost age 60 – with wonderful teammates being atop the list.

Some really fond memories came from a trip to Boca Raton, Fla., one summer for a team camp. I actually rode in the car with Coach. It even had a sunroof. And he drove fast, too. We had a blast.

We all left Florida sunburned and improved baseball players.

About three weeks ago, Coach Franks contacted me on social media. He asked about the 1977 team. I was a sophomore on that Aggie squad.

He requested my mailing address and said he would be sending me a prize.

I eagerly waited.

In the meantime, I sent him a note back – “I appreciate you, Coach. I took my share of ‘chewings’ on the field and on the court, but those experiences and your encouragement made me a better, stronger person.”

It took a little longer than expected for the package to arrive. I would often ask Pam, who typically gets the mail, “did it come today?”

Erin actually was the one to find it in the mailbox last week, and she brought it to the office so I could unwrap it.

Inside was a baseball signed by all the members of the 1977 Hamilton Aggie baseball team and Coach Franks. Looking over the names made me smile.

He also included a golf ball signed by John Daly and a golf tournament pin. Coach Franks walked 18 holes with Daly in early May – keeping his score at the Regions Tradition Golf Tournament.

Later that day I sent him another note.

“Coach, I got the prize(s) today and found my name on the baseball. Thanks a bunch! Take care!”

A bit later, he responded – “Hope you enjoy – always one of my favorites.”

Coach Franks, even though I didn’t really realize it at age 16, was one of my favorites, too.