A lot of people I know are retiring these days or at least talking about it.  That’s not surprising since I and most of my friends are in our mid to late 60’s.  Retirement used to be something way down the road.  Well, “way down” has come a lot closer.  Thinking about this topic has me wondering about the whole idea of “retiring a number.”  Can you do that?  After all, how do you count to 100 if you don’t have a 22.  In fact, you couldn’t even get to 24 much less 25, 27, 30, 36, 42 or 44.  But in baseball you can retire a number and back in July of this year, the San Francisco Giants did it again. This time they took number 22 out of circulation and placed it on display along with all those other numbers of Giant greats. *

No Giant will ever wear 22 again because of one particular ballplayer; William Nushler Clark Jr. who wore the double deuce with distinction through eight memorable seasons.  Known as Will the Thrill or just The Thrill, Clark was a throwback, old school if you will, who played the game with passion and enthusiasm, full of confidence and swager.  He rescued a floundering franchise beginning with his first at bat when he hit a home run off of Hall of Famer to be, Nolan Ryan.  Clark was the heart and soul of a Giant team that went from 100 losses in 1985 to the post season in 1987 and all the way to the World Series in 1989.  

The exploits of Will Clark are well chronicled, and the honor is richly deserved, but I want to turn my attention to the notion of retiring a number.  What if you could “retire the numbers” of the men and women who impacted your life.   My list would include teachers, preachers, bosses and colleagues, and without a doubt my high school baseball coach.  I don’t remember the number* that Terry Christman wore as coach of the Crestmoor Falcons, but I rarely watch a ball game that I don’t think of something that I learned from Terry.  He taught me more baseball in two years than I learned before or after.  Even now I can see his head shake in disbelief when teams played the infield in way too early in the game.  “Don’t they think they can score one run!”  

Terry’s experience in pro ball in the New York Mets organization as a pitcher, position player and manager were already mostly behind him by the time he was the coach at Crestmoor High School in San Bruno, California but we were the all the richer for his experience and his stories.  Terry is the consummate storyteller, and he had and still has a wealth of material.  Not only that, but he also genuinely enjoys people, and you can’t help but know that when you are in his company.

If you found yourself sitting on the bench with Terry as your coach it was like receiving an advanced degree in the game of baseball.  He could start out pretty agitated about something happening on the field, like the first baseman holding the runner on with the bases loaded rather than playing behind or in front of the runner.  After an initial strong and often salty reaction, Terry would take the time to make sure you understood why.  It was like it mattered that you learned the game which meant that he thought you might actually get on the field.  Even more, it communicated that you mattered.  If you listened carefully, you would begin to understand how to pitch with two strikes on the hitter, what it meant to get your pitch to hit, and why you NEVER made the first or final out of an inning at third base.  

Terry knew the game and he could teach it.  Case in point – he taught me how to bunt.  I ended up getting nine bunt singles my senior year in college and hit over .300 – lesson learned!   Those who played for Terry were the beneficiaries of good instruction and excellent drills.  I was not even afraid to bunt with two strikes.  Terry would talk about getting your head right in there so you could see the ball.   I once bunted a ball on a squeeze play right off my nose which might be a little extreme, but I never thought much about it.  I was confident that I could put the bat on the ball and get it down on the ground.  Suffice to say that I am still shaking my head when I see major league players who can’t do the things Terry taught us to do.

We often worked on executing rundown plays and the method Terry taught us is as close to foolproof as you can get.  I taught it to lots of kids that I coached in Southern California, Portland, Oregon and Wenatchee, Washington.  Watch the next rundown you see in a big-league game and see how many throws it takes to get the runner.  More than two or three?  They need to talk to Coach Christman.

Every practice was put together like the lesson plan of a master teacher.  My sister had Terry for her World Geography teacher in ninth grade.  It would be fair to say that his teaching skills did not show as well in the classroom as on the diamond.  However, on the field with a vast storehouse of baseball knowledge and experience at his fingertips, he made practice both fun and productive.  There was not a wasted minute and if you’ve played baseball you know that is rarely the case.  Things have changed for the better, but back in the 1970’s batting practice with one guy hitting and everyone else shagging was all too typical.  Our practices were designed to allow us to learn and improve both as individuals and as a team.  I almost always stayed afterwards to work on some aspect of the game.  Often Terry would stick around as well and throw BP which once I got older and had my own family, I recognized the sacrifice that represented.

Terry loved the game, and it came out in a number of ways.  He was intense and he wanted to win but he made it fun.  Whether it was a bunting drill or taking batting practice there was usually a contest involved.  Even conditioning and baserunning made you forget the pain as you competed in some kind of fashion.  He taught us the game of FLIP which I have passed on to every team that I have coached.  Terry had a deep appreciation for the game and a respect for its traditions.  His experience in professional baseball meant that we were learning from someone who had actually reached the level where he was getting paid to play baseball.  For high school kids that was our dream and he had lived it.  He knew the standard of excellence required to make it to the top and he was committed to passing on to us as much as we wanted and were ready to receive.  I can honestly say that because of what I learned from Terry I rose to a level greater than my talent would have predicted and went on to play four years of college baseball. 

Will Clark in his speech surprisingly had some good things to say about Candlestick Park where he played his whole career as a Giant.  Fans of the Giants in the last century remember “The Stick” and the miserable place it could be to play and watch a ball game.  Wind, fog and cool temperatures were the rule, and it took until Roger Craig came along as the Giants manager to convince the team to embrace Candlestick as a competitive advantage.  Crestmoor High School, only 15 miles south of Candlestick sat on a hill completely exposed to the prevailing west wind that blew in from left field.  It was arguably every bit as windy as Candlestick.  In fact, we even had a game WINDED out.  It was blowing so hard that it was impossible to hit a fly ball to left field and even the ground balls were visibly slowed by the force of the wind.  

Yet, Terry knew what Roger Craig knew.  We could complain or we could turn the conditions in our favor.  No one wanted to hit in the wind and cold and our pitchers learned to pitch with confidence to teams that would have preferred to sit on their team bus than in the dugout.  They came to the plate more concerned about how cold they were than on hitting the ball.  We would have all preferred to play in better conditions, but Terry helped us learn to make the best of a tough situation.  It was a lesson learned on the ball field that in the words of Will Clark “made us the adults we are today.”

The life lessons did not end on the field.  I remember a game that we lost and one my teammates made a comment about “getting his two hits.”  He should have turned the volume down.  Terry heard him. Suffice to say that none of us ever made that mistake again.  Baseball is a team sport played by individuals and Terry helped us learn that truth.  Much of life is played the same way.

I realized that my baseball playing days would be numbered so I began to consider a career as a teacher and coach.  Two words stood out to me, competency and concern.  I came to believe that in teaching and coaching, in fact in whatever I would go on to do, these qualities would be the foundation of success. Competency is critical to enable you to do your job well, and genuine care and concern for people allows you to share what you have to offer.  Terry modeled this on the baseball field, and it has made a difference in how I have lived my life.  

I have stayed in touch with Terry over the years.  Back in 1999, it was the Giants last year at Candlestick, I took my wife and 2 young boys to see one more game at the ballpark I’d been going to since I was eight years old.  It was a pilgrimage of sorts.  I had to go one more time and my boys had never been.  Terry and his wife Jan had us to dinner the night before.  He showed the boys his World Series rings that he had received from the A’s and the Giants for whom he had thrown batting practice over the years.  Terry was still throwing batting practice** for the Giants and he got us tickets for a couple of games.  He arranged for the boys to get some autographed baseballs.  Needless to say, it was a special experience.

Terry and I talk by phone at least a couple times each year.  We’ve talked about the Giants and controversial umpire calls.  I asked him about players who have passed away like Tom Seaver and Bob Gibson and of course he had great stories to tell.  We grieved the loss of a teammate and friend who died before his time. I’ve heard about Terry’s grandkids and he has shared in the joy of our first grandson who will be two this December.  I believe God brings people across our paths; some people call it coincidence – I think it is much more. People like Terry are a gift that can’t be measured by any modern day analytic.  I know that my aging memories only capture a part of Terry’s influence on my life and since I can’t retire his number, I just display this bat above my office desk. *** 

Thanks Terry!

* New York and San Francisco Giant numbers that have been retired:

 3  Bill Terry                  24 Willie Mays              42 Jackie Robinson

 4  Mel Ott                    25 Barry Bonds             44 Willie McCovey   

11 Carl Hubbell             27 Juan Marichal           XX Christy Mathewson     

20 Monte Irvin              30 Orland Cepeda         XX John McGraw

22 Will Clark                 36 Gaylord Perry           XX—did not have numbers

** Former SF Giant beat write Henry Schulman writes about Terry who wore number 59 when throwing batting practice for the Giants.  And by the way, he threw great batting practice to the teams he coached and freely dispensed all manner of hitting tips and instruction!

https://www.sfgate.com/sports/article/GIANTS-CLUBHOUSE-He-ll-Be-Pitching-In-At-3008893.php

*** Before aluminum there was wood and since wood would break, we would seek to fix them with nails and glue.  This was one of Terry’s bats that met that fate   It serves as a great reminder of some very fond memories.