The first time Grandpa met Coach Jim Mallon,
he tried to coerce him into offering Danny a baseball scholarship to
Southwestern. The attempt was not successful but Danny wanted to play for Southwestern
so that’s where he went. It was a good thing. Coach Mallon was not only an
exceptional coach but he became a good friend to our family. He passed away on
February 26 of this year; Grandpa remembered him and told me about his memorial
service:
The boys knew when
Coach Mallon was ticked off at any big mistake done either offensively or
defensively. You could really tell when he would kick the dirt real hard, or
when he got back in the dugout and kicked the chair in there so hard that it
bent the hound out of it.
One time I saw him
walking toward the north side of the dugout at the old stadium, where there was
a real large two and a half foot long very, very old RC Cola thermometer. Whatever
took place that angered Coach Mallon—as he came to the dugout, he reached out
with his fist, hit that RC Cola thermometer, broke it, and somebody said, “Do
you know that was an antique thermometer still in good shape?” He said, “Well
it ain’t no more.”
Another time he had a
real problem with a call made by the home plate umpire. He and that home plate
umpire met at home plate. While that home plate umpire was talking, giving his
spiel for why he called what he did, Coach Mallon was continuously dragging up
dirt with his feet and he dug enough dirt while that umpire was talking to
cover that umpire’s shoes and home plate. The audience got the biggest laugh
out of that one.
Someday, I’ll need to
have a visit with Ms. Jane Mallon to point out different items that Coach Mallon
brought by in the years past wanting some explanation for “What was this, what
was that used for?” If I didn’t recognize it immediately, or wasn’t too sure, I
had a good story for it. Over time, Coach Mallon recognized some of those
special stories. He always talked about them. Coach Mallon did leave some of
his old relics with me—some I display in the office of the shop today. A few
weeks before he died, he brought a plow nut. As they got in the truck to leave
the shop, Dennis, who helped him with different things, asked Coach Jim if he
was satisfied with my explanation. He said, “Hell yea, is there a better
one?”
Just recently Dennis came by and said, “I’ve
been going through Coach Jim’s personal belongings and the so-called artifacts,
antiques, and tools and I’m going to bring them out here to you because you’re
the only one that has not only expressed an interest in them but knew what they
were used for and the colorful explanations of their use, whether factual or
fictional.”
Having talked about
some of Coach Mallon’s ways of handling things, the inevitable sad story was
that Coach Mallon died. Friends and family of Coach Mallon had a memorial
service on the baseball field at Southwestern University where he coached for
32 years. For four years, from 1980 to 1984, he coached Danny and quite a few
other boys who I remembered when they came to the baseball field to reminisce.
Some I recognized; some I didn’t.
It was a bright,
sunshiny day appropriate for a game of baseball. It was quite an impressive way
that Southwestern went all out to honor this famous baseball coach. There were
boys in baseball uniforms at all of the major entrances to Southwestern,
directing traffic toward the parking lots. At the parking lots, golf carts
picked up the visitors and brought them along, inside the left field fence,
along the dugout, along third base. Boys stood at attention outside the dugout in
their uniforms. I spoke to each one, asked them where they’re from—answers were
from all over the country—and told them this is a day they will certainly
remember.
After we were seated behind
home plate facing a podium by the pitcher’s mound, the memorial service opened
with a special prayer by Weldon Crowley, Professor Emeritus at Southwestern
University and a friend of ours. He asked us all to please stand and take our
hats off. The National Anthem played solely on a trumpet as we all faced the
United States flag as it was raised to the top of the pole and then brought
down to half-mast. He then asked everyone to be seated and had some special
words. A soloist sang “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.” The song “Amazing Grace” was
also sung. After which, a few words of wisdom came from Professor Crowley about
the side of Coach Mallon that everybody knew about.
It was said that
once, when the team lost, someone asked the coach, “Well, what did you think
about the team’s execution?” Coach Mallon’s answer was, “I was all in favor of
it.” At another point in time, Coach Mallon was going to see how quick-witted
the boys could be and said, “In today’s game, we’re going to reverse the
signals on odd innings.” The third inning came up and one of Mallon’s players
called time and walked toward the third base coach’s box where Coach Mallon was
and said, “Coach, this is the third inning isn’t it? Well now Coach is it odd
or even?”
After the laughter, a
very close friend, Doctor Pearce, came to the podium. He said he had visited
Coach Mallon, who gave him a poem that he wrote. This poem was entitled, “We
Never Even Met”. It referred to twenty some odd years ago when a person had
donated a kidney to Coach Mallon. This poem was about one minute in length. It
told of his appreciation to be able to live an additional twenty some years
with that stranger’s kidney. Quite a tear-filled audience was listening. It was
also quite impressive when the audience was asked to remain standing as the
family and the honorary pallbearers, including my son Danny, left the baseball
field and went on their way to go to the gymnasium across the street where the
family received people. During the time that they were leaving the baseball
field, Weldon Crowley suggested that there wouldn’t be a better time to sing
“Take Me Out to the Ballgame”; the audience fell into rhythm and sang it
joyfully. My son Danny spoke at the reception. Danny and Jeff Livin were two
boys from the 1980 to 1984 baseball team who were honorary pallbearers.
On Facebook, Danny
shared a special post that brought tears to my eyes and Grandpa’s when I read
it to him: I want to say something special about my coach and friend, and every
thought and word just leads to another great memory of fun, laughter, hard work
and hard play. The emotions of the game, the battles, the victories, the
defeats… they simply all add up to great memories in the game of baseball and
more importantly in the life lessons taught by Coach Jim Mallon….thanks my
friend…your legacy lives and the stories will not be forgotten because we love
to tell them over and over again… Our prayers are with Jane and family, God
Bless
