From David Mills

Although Willie was a full year older than me and his brother Marc, he could usually be seen around our little league baseball team when practicing or playing a scheduled game. (I say little league but our ages were nearly 13/14. our skills were a good deal better than that, more like a "pony" league just before high school).

Mr. Baronet coached our team. Any one can do the real young teams, but at our level it requires a person to have either playing experience at a high level or be very familiar with the game in its advanced form. Mr. Baronet possessed both qualities and he could teach. Willie, being a year older, couldn't play for our team but he did help his dad out, especially with the pitching crew.

I'm tellin' you that at some point or another all of the Baronets must have been pitchers. At our level, young pitchers could start to throw some "junk" and if they were well coached and were just simply talented they could have a pretty diverse pitching layout. So in summary, between Willie,his dad and Marc, I was exposed to some pretty good talent and coaching.

I'm not sure if it was because I hung out with Marc nearly everyday of that summer, or if Mr. Baronet saw some potential in me, but he decided to let me take a crack at "pitching". Me, well I was fair in the field, with some speed, but could barely hit. But I was Marc/Willies' friend so he (coach)usually put me in the game somewhere.

Willie and Marc had worked with me on the fundamentals and even taught me a rudimentary form of a curve ball and a slider. (Willie, do you remember the "slurve" Marc used to throw) Well game day came and I was put on the mound in my first (and last) start as a pitcher. I was nervous!!

So onto the mound I go and the very first batter I hit in the head with the very first pitch!! He gets first base and is licking his wounds. Coach Baronet told me to calm down and throw straight pitches.

The next batter steps to the plate and I go into my windup. Throw, uhggg! I hit him too. In his ribs! At least I did it on the second pitch. He had to duck the first one. By this time the players in the other dugout were begging to chant me pretty heavy and and I clearly heard some comments from the people is the stands.

Coach Baronet walked toward the mound with a quirky look on his face. He is generally a nice man, tall and lean. So his look as he approached me spoke volumes.

He said he would leave me in for one more batter but that I must simply let him hit the ball or anything but do not hit this next guy and put him on base. Two batters, two base runners, and there were no hits and no walks!!

Then as the third batter was being pushed out of his dugout to face me, something happened that I will never forget. Willie Baronet brings out our catchers gear (remember Will Stoneceipher) and tells the next hitter he had better put it on. The people in the stands bust out laughing. All of my team mates in our dugout were laughing. And as I looked toward coach Baronet, hoping for some comfort and encouragement, he was laughing the hardest of 'em all. It was terrible.

Now I may not be relating the details as they actually occurred but that is not important. In my mind's eye this is how things went down that day and that is good enough.

Sincerely, David C. Mills