Star Tribune from Minneapolis, Minnesota • Page 45

WELCOME TOE-TOWN SUNDAY, JULY 19 1998 STAR TRIBUNE PACE C13 ii ruuiue uaii; juu iidvc iu iiavc pauciiuc. But you still live and die with it, every night." Larry Corrigan, minor league fields coordinator -y. 'bCLQ a i All 4 llj 1 1 PfW-, he I m- Ai V'. jJ r-j Continued from previous page Mains calls Twins baseball "a service to this community. We're just trying to break evea" The team usually draws a couple of hundred fans; Mains proselytizes.

Recently he has been heartened to see a few single parents bringing their children to the games. "This is my home," Mains said. "I'm concerned about the spiritual well-being of the people here, but I'm also concerned about the type of entertainment we provide. "As far as service and character, I don't think you could find a better place than this ballpark. We're friendly and 'have quality people here, and now we are trying to entice our community to join us." And Mains is off, to organize a group of children to run the bases.

The regulars Ralph is 75. He has been hanging around the ballpark for 25 years, berating umpires, shaking his fists at opponents, creating most of the noise in this serene setting. When Ralph, who is mentally challenged, gets overheated, Mains, who has named Ralph "assistant to the president," will tell him, "Ralph we need to take care of something," and lead him to another section of the park. Larry (Mo) Riddle is 49. He has been hanging around the ballpark for 25 years, wiggling his fingers to cast "voodoo" on opponents, kicking trash cans in the clubhouse while giving pregame pep talks to the Twins, dancing in the aisles between innings.

Mo, who has Down syndrome, has the run of the ballpark, like Ralph. "We have the San Diego Chicken call and say he'll entertain for $5,000," Ray Smith said. "We say, 'We've got two people more entertaining than Restovich didn't know how to race. If you don't have a fancy scoreboard to entertain the fans with, you have to improvise. Here, stadium workers run outside of the fence with cutouts to simulate a horse PHOTOS BY BRIAN PETERSON jf vnvmn I I Tim Sturdy, a pitcher from Albuquerque, N.M., shaves In the locker room before a game Friday night against Pulaski.

"A lot of these kids are away from home for the first time, experimenting with girls and drinking. It's a good thing they're in a nice town like that." Gene Larkin and runs errands, like buying the paint to redo the Twins logo behind home plate. Regardless of the action on the field, the ladies' loudest cheers are reserved for Smith, who still sprints from the dugout to coach third base. Major League Baseball recendy mandated upgrades and changes in all minor league ballparks. The team in Bristol spent $350,000.

Kingsport built a new stadium for $3.5 million. Elizabethton was given $17,000. "And rightly so," Smith said. "There are other priorities in town." Smith, with help from Rantz and the Twins, stretched those dollars to expand the clubhouse, improve the lighting and realign the bases. Free labor provided by townspeople made that possible.

"It's funny, my first baseball was from Sears, and it had Harmon Killebrew's name stamped on it," Smith said. "So, of course, he became my first favorite player, and I began following the Twins." Now Smith carries on the E-Town Twins tradition. His wife paints the outfield signs for free, of course and Smith scrambles around all day, trying to get the ballpark ready. "There are lots of quality people here," Smith said, before excusing himself to check on the PA speakers. The adopted son Ray Smith, who played for the E-Town and Minnesota Twins, managed E-Town from 1987 to 1994, winning four division titles and manager of the year awards.

He worked for the city, so he would use his vacation time to take road trips. When Dugger retired, Smith took over as both parks and rec director and team general manager. Smith was born and raised near San Diego. After signing with the Twins, he was playing shortstop at Class A Visalia. "I had a little arm strength, but I didn't have a good feel for it, and I tended to clear out the people behind first base," he said.

"We led the league in lawsuits filed. So Mr. Brophy and Mr. Rantz said, 'We better move him behind the Smith learned to catch in Eliza-bethton, and made it to the majors. When his playing career was over, he remembered Elizabethton.

He figured he and his wife had moved 35 times in his first seven years in pro ball. "We liked the area, and we had maintained our friendships here," Smith said. "We also decided we didn't want to raise our little girl on the West Coast." Smith became the E-Town manager in '86. Thirteen years later he helps groundskeeper Willie Upchurch drag the infield he rented a two-bedroom apartment with three teammates. "One of them, you would have thought was God's gift to baseball," Puckett said.

"All we heard every night was how good he was. He never made it, and neither did the other guys." Puckett called his apartment "The Roach Motel." "When we react to them at first. "I felt bad laughing, but you realize that we're laughing with them, not at them," he said. "And they enjoy the attention. "Mo asks for money for his birthday every day.

In the outfield, you can hear Ralph, and you get distracted because you're laughing. Next thing you know, the ball is flying over your head." Dugger still has his "Mo Knows Baseball" T-shirt. An article on Mo from the local paper hangs in the clubhouse. "Mo and Ralph are a part of Twins baseball," Mains said. The watchers On a recent weekend, the stands behind home plate at O'Brien Field became unusually crowded.

Along with pitchers from both teams holding radar guns and charting teammates' efforts, there were four Twins officials general manager Terry Ryan, director of baseball operations Rob Antony, Rantz and Corrigan. They all make separate treks through the minors, and just happened to land in the same place at the same time. Corrigan is easily the most demonstrative of the four. He will grab a glove four hours before the game and teach the correct way for a second baseman to receive a throw from left field. He will sit in the coaches' quarters after a game, consulting with pitching coach JimShellenback.

"You've got to stay positive," Corrigan said. "I've been saying that for years, but I really had it drilled into me one day. I came by a field arid saw one of our players strike out on a pitch out of the strike zone, and I jumped him. Later, I found out he had homered and singled in his first two at-bats, then I go and destroy him. "Stay positive, that's the mantra." It's a tall order some nights.

Rookie ball is ragged. Restovich almost got caught by the old fake-to-third-throw-to-first pickoff move, which never works. One night, a Twins player drew a bases-loaded walk to win a game, and headed for the dugout before Restovich sent him to first to make it official. "It's rookie ball; you have to have patience," Corrigan said. "But you still live and die with it, every night." Miss Jane 2) There is no swagger in rookie ball.

The players say "Yes, sir" to their superiors, and call the ladies who run the ballpark and take in players "Miss Jane" and "Miss Virginia." Actually, there are two "Miss Janes" Jane Crow, who takes tickets, and Jane Hardin, who runs I the concessions. Both have attended the workouts and, later, picnics during which the townspeople choose players to house. "I'm the cashier at City Hall," said Jane Crow, whose husband, Bill, is the scorekeeper and former president. "Joe O'Brien asked me if I would be the cashier at the ballpark. "That was 25 years ago, and I'm still doing it.

You have to love baseball." Jane Hardin, like Jane Crow, has taken in dozens of players over the years. "I cry like a baby when they leave," she said. "I have seen very few I wouldn't want in my home." This year, Hardin told infielder Kyle Hawthorne, "Four dogs, one cat, a bath and a half. If you can put up with us, we can put up with you." She had a boarder. Hardin's ties to the team were strengthened in 1990.

"My father died," she said, "He played ball with Carmon Dugger, and he coached Little League for years and years. Being here, well, I feel like a part of him is here." The alums Dugger has watched Puckett, Neagle, Larkin, Hrbek and Gary Gaetti play for the E-Town Twins. He has seen Dwight Gooden, Gregg Jeffries and Greg Maddux play for other "Appy" League teams. "If the Twins had kept what's come through here, they would have won three or four World Series," he said. Puckett played in E-Town in 1982.

He was the only player from his team to make it to the bigs. "I was low-maintenance back then," Puckett said. "I made $600 a month, and I was just happy to be playing. After taxes, rent, groceries and the phone bill, I was down to $25. Playing for free and loving it." Puckett didn't stay with locals; moved out," Puckett said, "the roaches moved in.

We kept the cleanest house, but it didn't matter. We'd come back and flip on the lights, and those roaches would be partying." Puckett ate a lot of homemade hamburgers and called his mom collect. He and teammates walked the five blocks to the ballpark, and were happy the return trip was downhill. "I had my own shoeshine kit and I did my own shoes, too," Puckett said. "I needed them to last I couldn't afford any more." Larkin remembers coming home after games and finding that Dykes had prepared a four-course meal for himself and teammates.

"She did everything but wash our clothes," Larkin said. "We even gave her money to buy our groceries. We still exchange Christmas cards." Many rookie-league players are fresh out of high school. Larkin graduated from Columbia University. "I felt like a big brother down there," he said.

One 17-year-old teammate soothed his nerves before his first professional start by drinking beer. Larkin cleaned up the resulting messes and helped him to the park. "He made it through about the third inning, then got shelled," Larkin said. "I don't think he made it past rookie ball. A lot of these kids are away from home for the first time, experimenting with girls and drinking.

"It's a good thing they're in a nice town like that." Uliil limn I HI, I 1 1 I II ilillli I if In Johnson City, players get ready outside the visitor's clubhouse, a small brick building roar right field..