The Great Pickoff Play at Third Base by Bob Kaufman

Gary Cole scared the pants off everybody!

Well, that isn't exactly true, nor fair. I should explain.

Gary lived across from the Hein’s a block north of my home on Gulling Street. From everything I remember he was a pretty nice guy.  He was two years ahead of me in school, so I doubt we ever "played together", but I do remember one football game on Gulling street when he kicked a field goal over the power lines...but that's another story.

It must have been the summer of '58.  I was 9, going on 10 years old, in my second year of Little League and had earned a place in the infield playing third base for the Tigers.  Two or three evenings a week we had the wonderful experience of playing ball on the field on the south edge of town surrounded by pine trees so tall that most of the field was in shadows by late afternoon.  A small creek ran behind the fence from center field to right field and then on into town.  I can't imagine a better place in the world for forty or so eight to twelve year old boys to don the uniforms of the Yankees, Tigers or Giants and spend a balmy summer evening playing ball. An occasional trip to the Sierra Valley to play the Sierraville Cubs or the Loyalton Cardinals provided a change in scenery but was no less idyllic than the home games.

Play Ball!

Gary Cole was a Giant.  It said so right on his chest - as if we were clueless and needed a reminder. Over six feet tall at age twelve he was huge!  Pull out the 1964 Pineneedle, his senior yearbook, and you'll see he played football, basketball, baseball and track all four years in high school and was a four-year letterman, probably in all four sports. It was all I could do to keep my 98-pound weakling body in the batter's box when he fired a fast ball from the pitcher's mound just 46 feet away. And it was all our pitchers could do to keep the ball out of the creek when Gary came to bat. The creek angled away from the park from right field to center, so if he pulled the homer to left field we wouldn't have to play with a wet ball.

Conference on "The Mound"

My imagination and memory fail at trying to compose the scenario that placed Gary at third base that evening. His usual presence there was only in passing as he rounded the corner in his typical home run trot. Yet there he was. The only possible way I can figure he was obliged to stop at third base was because we intentionally walked him and another batter or two drove him around the bases.

The Tigers' battery against the Giants was John Work on the mound, and Tom Olsen behind the plate. John threw a couple of pitches to the next batter. Each time, Gary danced several steps toward home, then turned his back to our catcher and walked back to third, strutting just like John Wayne.  Then, after the third or fourth pitch, Tom called a conference at the mound. His plan was to fire the ball to me after the next pitch and we would pick the big guy off when he turned his back.

I was so excited! Imagine me involved in a super pick-off play against the league's most valuable, admired, feared (you fill in the adjective, he was all of those) player. If ever there could be a modern David and Goliath tale, this was it.  We would be the talk of the town for the rest of the summer.  Heck, we probably would become legends in our own time!

We returned to our positions and got set.  John wound up and fired the pitch.

I am certain the Giants won the pennant that year and probably every year Gary played.  Of course, in high school he was on OUR team. He was exciting to watch on the field and on the court.  I think our teams did pretty well the years he played. 

Oh, and The Great Pickoff Play at Third Base, the day we became living legends, the heroes of the Feather River Little League?  Never happened.  John’s pitch was too close to the plate. The batter punched the ball somewhere to the outfield and Gary Cole walked home, strutting just like John Wayne.

Football Action - 1964 Pineneedle

Block 'P' Four-year Lettermen