Rockville Centre American League Champs, 1968

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With names like Cullinan (4), Murphy (3)  Murray, Meehan, and Britt, the team sounded more like it was from Dublin than Rockville Centre, New York. The coach was Mr. Cullinan, who was a very good coach, very nice, never yelled, was easy to approach, kindly, and threw the ball in batting practice so that it could be easily hit. He looked to me like the erstwhile President Kennedy. 

Baseball at that point was a more dominant sport at that time, it seems.  Basketball was the other big sport in Panama City. Our team was called Gem Cleaners. Occasionally the owner of Gem Cleaners came to a game or to the yearly little league banquet. No one really knew what his role was. The idea that someone had to fund or sponsor the team was pretty much beyond us.  He seemed more of an intruder or an oddity when he did make an appearance, though he was helping make it all possible. 

For years afterward the store had team pictures on the wall and the owner--his name never really registered--kept the photos on the wall in a prominant place. But after seven or eight y ears, the team photos on the wall were relegated to a box which he obligingly pulled out.  Eventually, whomever managed the business seemed somewhat irritated at being interrupted when asked where the team pictures were. Probably the ownership had changed hands.

This was the year I decided to wear glasses. Previous year, in the outfield, I could see the batter somewhat blurrily.  In the outfield,  it was usually uneventful and did provide the opportunity for  optical experiments. If the skin on the sides of the eyes were pulled slightly, sight would improve--perhaps changing the angle of the lens in the eye. Possibly. Also, if I blinked in a certain way,  y, vision would be corrected for a few seconds, then revert back.  Wearing glasses probably did improve the quality of the game, but it was a long process.  Bottom row on the end seems a metaphor for my importance of the teams championship that year.

Every one of us, except the individual  behind me, went to parochial school.  He had an English surname instead of an Irish one, and was Protestant.  That made him a bit of a novelty.  I spent much time with him, at his house, traveling to various sightseeing resorts.  He was a very spirited child, excellent on the sting ray bicycles that were the style at that time, and had the best bat on the team--very lightweight and also rather long for our standards--31inches.  His family were very nice cohesive, and very good to me. Unfortunately he perished in a gun related incident in his twenties.  But as this picture shows, we were happy then. We were not sullen kids. We actually enjoyed the experience. Rockville Centre was big into sports, but it would have been extremely uncool for a parent to harass a child, or be too competitive.  There was also a Major League in town--with the usually older and better players.  That is what we aspired to.

From the point of technique, the photo is interesting. Some time must have been taken to create rows of approximately same height players. Given that ADHD was generally untreated in those days, that all of us posed formally shows some degree of discipline.  The little league logo, bats crossed with a glove, is in front, somewhat displaced. Perhaps the photographer shifted us over to avoid a telephone pole protruding from the back. Also notable is that the coach chose of a photo were he has his eyes closed.   At some level, he had to decide which photo to use, and chose one that, even if it did not present himself in the best  light, presented the players well.  Only a few shots were taken. Even a formal photographer back then would only shoot three or four shots.

I am a bit of an outlier, sitting lotus style, perhaps a sign of enlightenment to come.  


Incidently, Doris Kearns Goodwin,  the Presidential Historian who wrote the currently popular book on Lincoln wrote a book about Rockville Centre, Wait Til Next Year.