The Burnsville Buccaneers

Over 30 years ago I participated in what I have long called the greatest game I've ever coached in. Many of you have read about that game which took place in Rapid City, South Dakota in 1994. In telling that tale I tried to take you, the reader, through the game with me as though you were a member of my coaching staff. Earlier this month I had an experience which reminded me of The Rapid Game more than any other since. So grab a clipboard and come along with me as I take you through the events of a recent game.

My coaching career came to an end in the summer of 2001. Not long after that my career with the Minnesota Twins came to an end and baseball was the last thing I wanted to think about. My 2001 team was basically the Burnsville (MN) high school girls varsity team. I wasn't retained because, as is often the case, I didn't have a player on the team and one of the fathers would take the helm of the team in '02. I'm sure the position had been promised to him before I was informed that I was free to go. But that's how it goes. 

Coaching didn't really appeal to me for a number of years. But this year was different. I knew that given my length of service at my airline, I would have five weeks of vacation with which to work. Sitting in my living room, with my dachshunds Shea and Honey upon my lap, I pondered what, if anything, should I do with this bounty of potential free time. I then heard a voice from above belonging to my late wife Bryn. She told me to do something that I really love and that's coaching and teaching baseball. So I got online and looked up the Burnsville Traveling Baseball program. I must've seemed like an unexpected gift at this point. I asked to work with a group between the ages of 12 and 15 and was assigned to an A-level 13-year old team. A team that almost didn't exist until they found a 12th player to fill the squad. There was a wide range of talent through the roster. One player, whom I could tell is a natural athlete, had never played organized baseball before. But that added to the challenge which I was up for. 

While we were officially known as "Burnsville White" I chose to give us the unofficial nickname of the Buccaneers, robbing from a defunct minor league team in Salem, North Carolina back in the '90s who had the same color scheme that we had. Also, the font of our last names on our jerseys matched those of the Pittsburgh Pirates. Get it? Pirates=Buccaneers. I never actually explained that to the players-because they're thirteen years old. I was actually old enough to be the grandfather of my players. 

We won our first game and then things went off the rails, sorta. We ended up with a league record of 2-10-1 and a record of 6-16-1 overall. We did qualify with a good enough record to host a playoff game in round one. July 7, 2025 vs the Jordan Hubmen. That's when the Game of The Year took place.

The visiting Hubmen (I know not why they are referred to as the Hubmen) got out to a 3-1 lead after the opening frame. We were tied at 5 apiece after two innings and we even led after the third inning by a 7-6 score. It was a nail-biter through six as the score read 8-8. Jordan put together a 4-run inning in the top of the 7th and we had but three outs left to score four of our own just to keep things going. 

When the game first started we were playing under brilliant sunshine with just a hint of clouds beyond the right field fence. But the winds started to pick up and before long the clouds had dimmed things considerably. So when we came to the plate we were not only chasing the Hubmen but daylight as well. We actually had to delay the game by about 10 minutes as a rainstorm came through. When we finally got back to playing and the game had a score of 12-8. 

I rounded the team before our first batter approached the plate. I told them that we were not going to quit and to have confidence in themselves, because I had confidence in all of them. These were words which I had told them all season long and it was necessary now as it had been all season. 

Our half of the 7th started as Alex Bazella reached on an error by the shortstop. With one out Ryder Buffington singled hard to the right of the third baseman who made a sweet backhand but had no play at first. With runners on the corners Clint Hagemann doubled to the left center field alley to score two runs. With the score now 12-10. Oliver Alvarez then crushed a pitch to two hop the right field fence scoring Clint and we had the tying run just 75 feet away from home plate. Asher Willrodt then singled to center and we were tied at 12. Trevon Kovarik and Cameron Brown each walked to load the bases and I could practically taste the win now. But baseball is a very humbling game. The only thing that could really halt this rally would be an inning-ending double play. Kenny Gonzalez stepped to the plate and on the first pitch he hit a comebacker to the pitcher who threw home for the force and the catcher then had the presence of mind to continue the play and throw the batter out at first. Just your basic 1-2-3 twin killing, executed to a level higher than this year's Colorado Rockies. I got back to the dugout , sat at my usual spot on the end of the bench, shook my head in disbelief and exclaimed, "You've gotta be kidding me!" So, off to extra innings we go.

Jordan managed to get a run in their half of the eighth, so we needed to score and score quickly because the weather was not on our side. It was now getting to the point where the balls, which were no longer the pristinely white Diamond brand orbs we started some 2 1/2 hours earlier, were getting tougher to be seen by all involved. Neill Park does not have lights and that fact was probably going to have some bearing on future events. 

Kenny Gonzalez started the inning as the extra-inning runner at second base. He stole third and then Wyatt Brinkman walked to put runners on the corners. Gianni Tovar popped out to the catcher who made a really nice play. But the top of the order was coming up and I was sure that we were going to complete this comeback. Axel came up and singled on a blooper over the infield as Kenny G scored to tie it. With Wyatt on second base Max Ahern cracked a ball between the left and center fielders which I knew would fall safely because not only I not see it, I was pretty sure that the center fielder couldn't see it either. I darn near threw out my arm waving Wyatt home with the winning run. The jubilation on the faces of the players and my coaches was all I needed to see. Unlike the Rapid City when I was in the middle of the celebration at game end I chose to let everyone else do the celebrating whilst I stood back and enjoyed their moment in the quasi-sun. 

It was the highlight of our season. I hung out after everyone had left and there was very little light left to look out upon the field which three months earlier I had never been on. I recalled how much I had enjoyed this experience and how much I had missed teaching this game that I love so much. Our season ended a week later down in Owatonna but the memory of that evening in Burnsville will keep positive feelings in my head and heart throughout the winter months. 

That was fun. That was fun. 

Hulk Hogan & Me

It has "been a minute" since I last wrote a new blog entry. I know I have fans who enjoy my writings and hope that some day I may write a book. I have not dismissed that as a possibility. But I bring to you my latest personal tale and hope that you enjoy it. 

Many of you know of my past history of being at certain places at certain times. More than one person has referred to me as "the sports Forrest Gump". I get that reference even though I have never actually seen that movie. (Totally true. I've also never seen "Titanic". Why? I'm a history buff. I know how it ends! But this is an event which took place over 35 years ago and has been told to virtually no one. But now I am going to share it with you, given recent events.

WWE, an organization headquartered in my hometown of Stamford, Connecticut awarded its Wrestlemania for 2025 to T-Mobile Arena in Las Vegas. The Twin Cities had hoped to host at U.S. Bank Stadium in downtown Minneapolis. But instead they will host SummerSlam 2026. And now you know the impetus for what triggered me to write my latest blog entry.

When I first arrived in Minneapolis in 1988 I started a full-time job at Dayton's Southdale selling home electronics. Southdale Mall, for those of you who may not know, was the first indoor mall in the United States. (My time there could serve as the background for another new blog entry). But I also found part-time employment for Sims Security based out of St. Paul. Sims did ushering at many different venues such as the Metrodome, Mariucci Arena, Williams Arena, State Theatre, Orpheum Theatre and the St. Paul Civic Center. I had seen WHA hockey games on tv from the Civic Center when I lived in Stamford. I always remembered they had clear boards on the rink which I years later I discovered to be because the seats on the sides did not come up to the boards, thus fans seated in the seats set back 4-6 feet from the ice would totally lose track of the puck unless the boards were transparent. 

I signed up for the minimum number of events required each month in order to maintain my employ with Sims. On one of my first Civic Center assignments I chose to work WWF (now known as WWE) professional wrestling. The date was June 23, 1989. 

I showed up ready for the night's events in my grey pants, white shirt and obligatory red sportcoat with black tie which we all wore unless we were working a rock concert or something like that. I checked in at the usher's room and got my assignment from my supervisor, whom I think may have been one Angela Lillie, who is a great lady and my longest-tenured Minnesota friend.

I was going to be on the floor for most of the evening which was cool, considering I would be standing out like the proverbial sore thumb. The undercard matches involved names like Mr. Perfect (real name Curt Henning, a Minneapolis native), Jimmy "Superfly" Snuka and Koko B. Ware. The final match of the night pitted arch rivals Randy "Macho Man" Savage (who was born Randy Poffo and was a former catcher in the St. Louis Cardinals minor league system) versus Hulk Hogan (born Terry Bollea).

Somehow I was chosen to escort Mr. Hogan to the ring from the staging area some 100 feet or so from the ring to ringside before the match began and then walk him back out at the match's conclusion. 

When the time arrived I made my way to the area just in front of the curtain which shielded the fans from seeing the evenings participants before they made their way to the ring. Moments later Hulk emerged from behind the curtain and looked up and  around the arena to get a sense of the raucous crowd inside. At 6'7" he towered above me by six inches and even though I didn't follow wrestling I was amazed at the physical specimen this dude was. 

Just before the p.a. announcer started his introduction, I looked up at Hulk and said, meekly I'm sure, "You ready?" He looked down at me, grinned and said, "Let's do this, brother!" as only Hulk Hogan could. I walked him to the ring making sure that no one breached the stanchions which kept the fans away from making contact with the wrestlers. I got him all the way to the ring and then I took a route away from the ring as to stay out of the way of Randy Savage and Miss Elizabeth and their ushering escort. 

At the conclusion of the match I followed Hulk to the curtained area where after his loss he turned right and headed toward one of the locker rooms. I was still behind the curtain when Randy and Elizabeth came through the curtain. They turned left instead and shortly after they did Randy stopped and yelled back to Hulk, in that familiar voice which for years told us to "Snap into a Slim Jim". "Well, see ya on the bus!" And that was the moment my long-suspected theory about pro wrestling crystalized to become the truth as I'd imagined always to be. It was all a show. A show that would become incredibly lucrative to its participants for the next 3 1/2 decades to this day.

The St. Paul Civic Center was demolished a few years later and in its same location sits the Xcel Energy Center, home of the National Hockey League's Minnesota Wild. I frequent this building some 20-30 times a season because I still have season tickets to the primary tenants. There's a good chance that "The X" will be known as the Grand Casino Arena come September, but the echoes of the story which I just told you are just loud enough for me to recall it by a different name in a different time.  

RIP, big guy.