Go Home!

That's what Judge Cullen Christensen told me one day. I had reported for work even though I was a bit under the weather. I mentioned to Zola, his clerk, what a kind man Judge Christensen was. "He just doesn't what you to get him sick!" she offered. "Go home" was the gist of the signal I received from the third base coach one day. I was a about a 150-pound high school freshman. My Church softball team was in an area tournament in Colorado. I was on third base, no one was on second. We either had one or no outs. The batter hit the ball straight to the first baseman, and I was surprised when the third base coach (Gordon Pierce) sent me home - - I'd been a football player since age 7, and had relatively little interest or experience in baseball and softball. I hesitated. Then I ran for home. Waiting there with the ball was a catcher who seemed to outweigh me by about 30 to 50 pounds. He seemed more than a little surprised when I did the only thing I knew how to do - - I ran him over. He stumbled and fell into the backstop, dropping the ball. I started walking to the dugout, where my teammates were going nuts. Lance Pierce, Gordon's son and a very competitive high school junior, had the presence of mind to tell me to go back and touch home plate. If I recall correctly, that may have been the winning run. The other team protested vehemently, arguing that what I had done had to violate one rule or another. I suppose the umpire must have had little sympathy when he took a look at me - - maybe he thought the catcher should have been able to have taken care of himself.