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Former Town Ball Player Chronicles Its History
Tom Melchior was born in Belle Plaine, Minnesota in 1936. His family moved to Gaylord, and then to Garden City where Tom played youth baseball and his first two years of high school ball. In 1952, the family returned to Belle Plaine for Tom’s junior and senior years. During the summer of his junior year, Tom began his amateur career as a shortstop for the Carver Black Sox.
After graduating, he joined the Belle Plaine Tigers for three seasons. In 1954, Tom enrolled at St. John’s University, where he was a four-year starter as an outfielder, and co-captain as a senior. After his junior year in 1957, he was hired as the Benson Braves player-manager for one season.
After graduating college in 1958, Tom played one year for the Le Sueur Giants. He then taught in New Prague in 1959 and played for the New Prague Robins. He spent 1960 in Puerto Rico, teaching and coaching at Colegio San Antonio Abad before returning in 1961 to teach in Montgomery. He played for and managed the Montgomery Redbirds for two seasons. In 1962, Tom began a 31-year teaching career at Burnsville High School, including a decade as the baseball coach. He was named Minnesota Teacher of the Year in 1971 and retired in 1993. Shortly thereafter, he became one of the first inductees into the Burnsville High School Hall of Fame.
After accepting the post in Burnsville, Tom and his wife, Sue, settled in rural Shakopee, where they raised their three children, Paul, Marty and Meg. Tom finished his playing career with the Shakopee Indians in 1967, and by the mid-1970s, he retired from high school coaching. Tom then coached a Shakopee Babe Ruth team from 1976-1981.
When Tom retired from teaching, he began a second career as an author and regional historian. In 1997, he published “They Called Me Teacher,” which recounts the history and stories of Minnesota’s one-room schoolhouse teachers. The book won the 1997-98 Merit Award from the Minnesota Independent Publishers Association. This was followed by a memoir, “From Both Sides of the Desk” and “Never Forgotten,” which chronicles stories of World War II veterans.
By the late 1990s, Tom’s focus was back to his first love, baseball. Over the next decade, Tom researched and interviewed dozens of former amateur baseball players from the region. The result was “Belle Plaine Baseball: 1884 – 1960,” and later, “Scott County Baseball.” These books detail the rich history of townball in Scott County. Both titles sold out their first printing and have been widely used by other researchers, writers, and fans of Minnesota’s amateur game. Tom’s endeavors, on and off the field, have positively influenced the lives of thousands of Minnesotans including his family and friends, his students, and generations of baseball players, coaches and fans.
In 1948,
We roamed all day
without a care,
And never thought of
fate.
When we the boys
of summer played,
So many years ago,
The sun burned down
on sandlot fields,
The pace of time was
slow.
We played where
grass would never grow,
Sometimes on city
streets.
We had no cell
phones way back then,
But we knew when to
meet.
Our caps were flat
with bills that crowned
With logos of
favorite teams.
They played on
diamonds far away
Where we just played
in dreams.
We lugged no big
equipment bags
To carry all our
stuff.
Just a bat and a
trusty glove,
We thought it was
enough.
We never wore those
shoes with spikes.
Our pants were Levi
jeans.
We rode our bikes to
pick-up games.
We were a motely
team
When we the boys
of summer played,
The basepaths
were not lined.
We had no way to buy
the lime.
No batters’ box
you’d find.
When we the boys
of summer played,
There was fire in
our eyes
Lightning shot from
finger tips,
And home plate was
the prize.
No umpire ever
called a pitch.
Arbitration
was our game.
We could argue with
the best
My gosh,
how we complained!
No parents ever
bothered us
Or organized our
play.
We
were the ones who ruled the game
And frolicked
time away.
When we the boys
of summer played,
We hit line drives
with glee.
We scooped up every
hot ground ball
With spirits wild
and free.
We dug right in for
every pitch
And waved our trusty
bats.
The pitchers seldom
threw a strike
And whizzed
some past our hats.
One day we rode to
Arlington
To play a Series
game.
Balloon tires
crunched the gravel road,
Singing out our
fame.
We taped the bats to
handle bars.
Our gloves all hung
there, too.
We played four
innings; then we fought.
’tis the best that we could do.
When we the boys
of summer played,
Our heroes were Ted
and Joe.
They hit homeruns we
read about.
And put on quite a
show.
Our favorite bat was
Louisville
Slugger was its
name.
Robinson swung a
hefty log.
Duke Snider gave it
fame.
We had no TV games
to watch.
We turned the Plilco
dial.
Play-by-play from
distant parks
Made summer nights
worthwhile.
Where have my
boys of summer gone,
Who once stood
strong and tall?
In old age now I
often think
Were they ever
here at all?
Those years slipped
by, so now I dream
Of games I played
with friends.
Some now play
among the clouds.
Where games will
never end.
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Dave “Greek” Wagner
*NEW* Minnesota Amateur
Baseball Hall of Famer
