So, here is my alternate reality. The date is December 19th, 1993. It's my birthday and I'm 23 years old. I'm graduating from the University of Missouri with a degree in History and a minor in Physical Education, and I have no clue what I'm doing with my life. It's like the end of high school all over again. So, I get a job delivering pizzas and wait for an opportunity to come my way. Fortunately, it doesn't take long. The baseball coach from my high school alma mater has moved on, leaving the school in the middle of the year for greener pastures. The school is in a tight spot and my phone rings.
"Allan. How would you like to become the manager of the high school baseball team?"
Go back to my hometown? Eh. Not exactly what I had in mind. Little town of 1300 people that I "escaped" from when I went to college, never to return to, or so I thought. But, it's a job, and it's a hell of a lot better than delivering pizzas. So, I pack my bags and make the four hour drive back to my hometown of Sarcoxie, Missouri, with all of the hopes of a young man starting out on his own in his first career job. Where will it take me? Well, I don't know that yet. Maybe the Majors, or maybe unemployed. Who knows? Maybe I'll end up being a high school coach for life, although I really hope not. Let's find out together, as we go back in time and rewrite my life's story.
The state of Missouri, like many states, has high school teams broken up into various levels, 1A-4A. There are nearly 500 teams in all, with 16 districts at each level. Sarcoxie is 2A, and that's where I'll begin. This dynasty will have the entire 1994 MLB baseball world, the NCAA, and Missouri high school baseball. It's enormous, I know. What can I say? Either go big, or go home. Well, which is what I do. I move back home to live with my mom and brother. My sister is still in college, so the house will be a little quieter. But moving back home? Ugh. Not what I had planned, but it's free and my mom is more than happy to have me back in the house. As is my little brother, who is 11 years younger and looks up to me. He's getting ready to turn 12 soon. And he's a handful, but all in all, a good kid.
I always enjoyed my home. Older home, built in the 1930's, and it had style. Character is what you call it as you get older. Wonderful four bedroom, two and a half bath house. Dining room had a nice bay window. The den had a wood burning stove. My room was upstairs, first door on the right. I spent a lot of time in that room, playing Strat-O-Matic baseball or football, while listening to music. Whenever I got in trouble with mom, she'd always send me to my room. Little did she know, that's exactly where I wanted to be. The window looked out over the covered front porch and down the hill where the road s-curved around the church near the house. I learned how to replace the glass in that window as a teenager, when I threw a notebook across my room in a fit of anger. Just my luck, the notebook hit the window and crash....there went the glass. Got into even more trouble for that. I had to walk to the local hardware store, carry a new piece of glass back, and pin and caulk the thing into the window frame. A fine punishment, if you ask me, since it taught me a skill while also teaching me a lesson.
It's January of 1994, and my house is on the opposite side of town as the high school. It’s a mile away and it takes me about 15 minutes to walk. Although, it's winter, so I'll just drive my good old 1964 Ford Falcon. Modified wheels and sound system. Man, I loved that car. Should have never gotten rid of it in real life. I never had a car in high school, so it feels a little weird as I drive into the parking lot for my first day. The administrators and teachers are the only familiar faces I see. All of the students are strangers. I don't know if that makes this new job easier or not. For now though, there's not much to do. It doesn't feel much like work, hanging out with the other coaches and "teaching" study hall and P.E. But hell, at least it's a paycheck, and the work doesn't feel like work. That’s about to change, because baseball season is right around the corner.