My entry into Minor League Baseball came during the Second World War, just before D-Day 1944. There were only eleven Minor Leagues in operation at that time, including the independent Mexican League. By 1948, the year I left the Cubs organization, the minors had fifty-two leagues in operation, from Class-D ball all the way to triple-A. There were 5,000 Minor League players assigned to the teams in these leagues. Shortly after graduation from DePaul University, I signed a contract with the Chicago Cubs on the recommendation of an old Cubs fan, William K. Fred, who had seen me play sixteen-inch softball in Chicago's Windy City League. He told Jack Sheehan, the director of the Chicago Cubs Minor League operations, that he thought I would be a good prospect for the Cub organization. Sheehan agreed to give me a tryout. He called and asked me to come down to Wrigley Field early one afternoon when the Cubs were in town. I reported, and he showed me to the Cubs locker room and had the club houseboy provide me with a uniform. The Cubs were finished with their batting practice and were taking infield. The outfielders were catching fly balls and throwing to different bases. I was told to go out there and throw in with Andy Pafko, the great Cubs center fielder. I caught some fly balls and threw to third and home, did some wind sprints, and it was time for the game to start. I came in, took my shower, and reported to the Cubs office. After I talked to Jack for a bit, he proceeded to tell me that he thought I might have some possibilities and, if I agreed, he would sign me to a Cubs contract and have me report to their Class-D Minor League affiliate in Tennessee at a magnificent $100 a month. I went home and talked to my parents, who consented to let me play, and I signed. It was early June, and Minor League teams had been in operation since May. I packed my bag and went down to Union Station and bought my ticket for Erwin, Tennessee. Jack Sheehan had already advised Jim Poole, the Cubs manager in Erwin, when I would arrive and had assured me that I would be reimbursed for my fare. Since gloves were not used in Chicago Windy City Softball, it was necessary for me to purchase a glove. Baseball gloves, during this period, were not oversized and in the form of first basemen's mitts as they are today. My glove was small and did not have any form of connection between the fingers. Upon my arrival, Jim met me at the station and asked if I had any preferences as to where I would like to room. I said as long as it was clean, I didn't care. He took me to a little old cottage, just down the main street in town, and introduced me to the owner. The owner proceeded to tell me the room rent would be $2.50 every two weeks and I would be sharing the room and double bed with someone else. That someone happened to be a left-handed pitcher by the name of Ed Van Nordheim, from Lincoln, Nebraska, a nice enough guy, except that I soon learned he passed wind more than anyone I ever knew-especially at night in bed. Jim Poole told me they had a game that night and I was to report to the ballpark clubhouse for an early-afternoon workout prior to the game. Jim was a former Major League first baseman who played a short time with the Philadelphia Athletics from 1925 to 1927. He also played a number of years in the Minor Leagues. His nickname was Easy. However, I soon found out he would not be easy with me. When Ed and I got ready to go to the ballpark, I put my spikes, glove, jockstrap, sanitary socks, and T-shirt in my bag, and we took off. Well, the park was something to see! The old Works Progress Administration had cut this diamond out of the side of a mountain, and the left-field wall happened to be part of the mountain. The infield was hard clay, with no grass. The lights, if you can call them that, would have to go a long way to compare with those I played under in my Windy City softball days in Chicago. …
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