My email address is stlewisoil@yahoo.com. My initials, st, followed by “Lewis Oil,” the name of my first Little League team on Long Island.
I’ve played fantasy sports for decades and “Lewis Oil” is also the name of all my fantasy football and baseball teams. The first fantasy baseball league I played in was when I was working in local TV in the early ‘90s. We drafted the teams in a conference room (my first pick was Barry Larkin) and as we walked out the door, I distinctly remember that one of the guys, Irwin, said we had to name our teams. His team, he said, was going to be called “Suburban Hardware,” a name he picked because it was his first Little League team. Without missing a beat, I said that my team needed to be called “Lewis Oil.”
There was no computer tracking of the league statistics. We actually took the Sunday newspaper, wrote down the stats for the players on our teams and did the math from the previous week to figure out the standings. At the same time, personal IDs for email addresses were also being born--and I picked “stlewisoil.”
The reason I remember Lewis Oil so fondly was that it was my first Little League team--back before they had t-ball. Kids pitched, kids hit and umpires called balls and strikes. We were coached by a man named Steve, a hot-headed former Marine who worked for the telephone company. (Remember when it was “the” telephone company?) Steve the coach was hardest on his own kids, his son was the best athlete on the team. He was kind to me--and I was the worst athlete on the team. One time, I managed a seeing-eye ground ball that morphed into a home run thanks to multiple misplays in the field. We ended up winning the championship for our age group. We got trophies and blue satin jackets. At the awards dinner, Steve the coach presented my trophy to me and called me the team’s “Slugger” thanks to my one moment of Little League glory. My father picked up on that nickname and called me “Slugger” as a term of endearment through grammar school, high school and into adulthood.
I was reminded of that nickname “Slugger” in the writing of this quiz which has been a personal odyssey of current events, past remembrances and odd confessions--all in this time of the coronavirus pandemic. In Quiz #7, Zoom from back on March 20th, I mentioned that I’d had a hard time sleeping because I had a bad dream about being bullied in high school. Two people picked on that remark which I offered with no context. It was just a fact--and, that night, it was a bad dream.
The first person who was upset about the bullying was our friend Phyllis, a long-time friend of Sara’s who is an outspoken bruiser on Facebook. She says what she means and is not afraid to call anyone out for their bullshit. Two days after that Zoom quiz, on Sunday March 22nd, Sara and I actually saw Phyllis--the only friend we’ve seen face-to-face beyond family and neighbors in the last month. Last year, Sara worked with a bunch of neighbors to organize grass-roots opposition to a plan from PSEG to run high-voltage transmission power lines through town, down residential streets and past schools. They made up lawn signs, held community meetings and met with lawmakers. They eventually won--for now. The plan has been tabled.
The group remains connected on Facebook and one of the organizers put out a call back in March to gather hospital supplies. Her husband is a doctor at a local hospital and they were running out of supplies. We gathered up what we had at the house including a bottle of bleach, half a package of latex gloves and, yes, some protective masks which we’d ordered in February.
Sara and I drove to the woman’s house that Sunday. It was our first trip out of the house together in 10 days. Just riding in the car felt liberating. When we pulled up to the woman’s house, it was set up as a drive-through with boxes on her front lawn for various products. The leftover lawn signs from the PSEG protest were staked in the ground, covered with hand-written signs to indicate what to put in each box. She sat 15 feet back on her front porch with a big “Thank you” sign.
When we arrived, we saw that, quite by accident, Phyllis was getting out of the car in front of us. From our cars and 10 feet apart, Sara, Phyllis and I got caught up. It felt great. When Phyllis turned to me, she wanted to know about the bullying. I told her it was verbal and bad but never physical. When we got back in the car, Sara told me that if I had given Phyllis the names, she would have gone after the bullies even today, 40 years later.
That same week, I spoke to Susan, my sister. As we talked about growing up, she asked me about the bullying she’d read about in the quiz. She’d never hear me talk about it. (Pandemics do strange things to you.) Had I told Mom and Dad? I had not. I just endured it. I went to an all-male Cahtolic high school. I was tall and a dork. Members of the wrestling team started picking on me, mostly hoots and taunts as they’d pass me in the halls. I remember the ringleader most clearly--and I remember the one guy, also named Steve, who always refused to join in with his wrestling friends.
In talking to Susan, I also remembered another part of the bullying story that I had not thought about in years. They called me “Slugger”--and it wasn’t a term of endearment. My father had used the name once in picking up some classmates and me when we’d stayed late at school. One of the kids in the car, who I had considered a friend growing up, overheard it and told my bullies about my father’s nickname for me. I still remember the name of the kid who broke that confidence. I’ve seen him on Facebook and active in alumni events for my high school. I have never gone.
The sad thing is that I got mad at my father for calling me “Slugger.” In high school, it became a source of embarrassment--and then anger at him. I also never told my parents--or anyone in authority--about the bullying. It’s sad what you endure as a child, the secret pains we all carry.
I think it must be a real shitty time right now to be in high school. On one of my dog walks last week, I spotted a bunch of high school kids in a circle at a field. They were on their bikes and mostly keeping their 6-feet of social distance. What must this past month have been like for them?
In the next few months, the Class of 2020 is set to graduate. Losing these last few months when school work doesn’t matter and you’re just looking ahead to college must have sucked, but things don’t look better just yet. With this looming pandemic, graduation--and all the things that normally come with it--are clearly in doubt. Walking on stage to pick up a diploma in front of family and friends? Going to prom? Dancing on a crowded dance floor? Sadly, these things will likely end up being virtual. The only solace may be that this will pass and that we’re doing this so we can all survive.
I know that some of my generation have been posting their high school graduation photos on Facebook as a sign of solidarity with the Class of 2020. I have not done that. With all due respect, I’m not sure how that helps. Perhaps some memories are best left behind.
What did NOT happen?
A. Before home room in my freshman year of high school, I tripped one of the bigger athletes in my class as he walked by my desk. Mr. Ward, my home room intervened. He said, “Thode, try not to be more of an asshole that you need to be.” Sound advice--it also defused a tense situation;
B. Someone challenged my Earth Science teacher, Mr. Coyle, “Why did it rain at my neighbor’s house but not at my house and we live just across the street. His answer, “It has to start somewhere;”
C. My girlfriend in high school was 4-foot-11. I am 6-foot-5;
D. My girlfriend in high school’s father was an FBI agent;
E. In high school, I drove a white Dodge Dart from my grandmother, Adele.
Want the answer?
Answer #30. Slugger, April 16, 2020
If you’re a subscriber, the answer will be sent to you as a separate email when the question is published.
Want more?
Here’s the next quiz in the series: Quiz #31. “It looks weird.”
Here’s the previous quiz in the series: Quiz #29 “These things happen.”
Here’s the first quiz in the series: Quiz #1. Stella and Social Distancing, March 13, 2020
The quiz is explained here: Steve’s Stay-at-Home Coronavirus Quiz.
Here is an archive of all the quizzes.
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Comments, corrections and confessions welcome.
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