My First Crush was Buddy Bell

My First Crush was Buddy Bell

By Carie Juettner

Photo courtesy of Carie Juettner, adapted by Scott Bolohan

I was born into a baseball family—
Big League Chew and rally caps,
shagging balls at my brother’s practice,
selecting my first wooden bat.
 
I collected binders of baseball cards
(the Texas Rangers were my team),
tracked red dirt throughout the house,
ground grass stains in all my jeans.
 
I learned how to oil a glove
and wrap it up in rubber bands
around a ball, tucked safe inside,
to mold the leather to my hand.
 
My love of baseball didn’t end
at cards and bats and peanut shells.
When I was seven, my heart swooned—
my first crush was Buddy Bell.
 
His golden locks and golden glove
were equally impressive to my gaze.
I scooted close to the TV
as my third baseman made his plays.
 
But nothing beat the Friday night
in August, 1984,
when I attended my first Rangers game,
and my little baseball heart just soared.
 
At Arlington Stadium, the Rangers’ home,
our seats were on the first base side.
I grinned from ear to ear to see
my baseball cards all come alive.
 
There was Mickey Rivers and Charlie Hough,
Tom Henke and Gary Ward,
Larry Parrish, Pete O’Brien,
and, of course, the player I adored.
 
The Brewers were our guests that day,
and they showed off at their at-bats.
By the ninth, it was 6-1,
and Texas had the losing stat.
 
But the Rangers turned their hats around,
got two runs and three on base,
so they were only down by three
when Buddy Bell came to the plate.
 
There are few moments in baseball lore
more suspenseful than this scene:
bottom of the ninth, two outs,
bases loaded, down by three.
 
It’s a lot of pressure on a batter
to find himself in such a jam,
but Buddy Bell came through that day—
he won the game with a grand slam.
 
We stayed until the players left
to meet my hero in the flesh.
He autographed my baseball card
while I just beamed with happiness.
 
I still have that baseball card
and the program from that epic game.
I saw the Rangers play some more,
but no experience was ever the same.
 
I played softball myself for years—
mostly short and second base,
and my attention turned to other guys,
who stole my poor third baseman’s place. 
 
But my first love did leave a mark
upon my heart, as time did tell.
I still remember when I was seven,
and my first crush was Buddy Bell.


Carie Juettner is a middle school teacher and the author of The Ghostly Tales of New England and The Ghostly Tales of Austin. Her poems and short stories have appeared in publications such as Ember: A Journal of Luminous Things, the Texas Poetry Calendar, and Daily Science Fiction. Carie lives in Austin, Texas, with her husband and pets. To learn more about her, visit cariejuettner.com.

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