As I awoke this morning, I calmly began stepping through my regular morning ritual. I rolled out of bed. I threw on my robe. I used the restroom. I brushed my teeth. I wandered out into the hallway and peeked into each of the kids’ rooms to make sure they were still asleep. I ventured into the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee. I stepped outside and grabbed the Milburn Gazette from the driveway. As I took a peek at the front page, noting the headlines, that is where my regular morning ritual took a sharp turn. Even though I knew what one of the top stories was going to be, it still set my heart rate into 3rd gear. I gazed at that headline like I had never gazed at one before.
“Mallards Hire Stone Torkelson as GM”
It seemed surreal. It seemed like fantasy. I almost expected at any second to find myself laying in bed, just awakening from what was a beautiful dream. But I was already awake. I was really standing out in the driveway, Gazette in hand, staring trance-like at that headline.
“Put some pants on!”
(Just kidding, I made that part up. My robe covered any unwanted exposure to the world.)
“Mallards Hire Stone Torkelson as GM”
Yes, it really said that. Yes, I was really the new General Manager for my beloved Mallards.
This was a dream that started taking shape twelve, thirteen years ago or so. When my baseball playing career stalled in the minor leagues because of injury (not to mention a lack of any apparent big league ability), my new baseball dream involved taking on the role that my grandfather had worn so successfully years ago.
You see, my grandfather, Studs Torkelson, was the Mallards’ General Manager through what was the club’s most successful era. He helped build and sustain a team that won seven Big Leagues Series titles during his time at the club. Many of the great Mallards of yesteryear played during my grandfather’s time in that office in the cupola of Jacoby Park. Names such as the amazing third baseman Claude Pellechia, his heir apparent at the hot corner, Noe Torres, the inimitable left fielder Jimmie McGuire, thoroughly dominant pitcher Phil Snellbaker. Names that still instill awe and inspire tales of sheer magic from old timers recounting their memories of those incredible days. My grandfather was there. My grandfather either signed them or dealt for them.
And now it is my turn. Don’t get me wrong though, possessing the last name that I do carries some lofty expectations along with it. My grandfather was literally and figuratively a Stud(s). My dad tried to follow in his footsteps, and had some success, but nothing like what Granddad enjoyed. Dad initially tried to steer me into other aspects of baseball after I hung up my glove and cleats. Coaching, managing, radio play by play, Cracker Jack vendor. Some other profession that is part of this game I love so much. But I felt, and feel even more so now, like it is in my blood. This is what I was born to do.
Who are the new Mallards heroes I might help be a part of?
Will I help bring another championship to this city?
I sure hope so.