The Scout Never Called: Growing Up in Competitive Sports

On this episode of Our American Stories, Roger Rench shares with us some memories of his time playing various competitive sports throughout his life that are sure to put a smile on your face.

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:10):
And we returned to our American stories. Up next, we'll
hear from our regular contributor in Iowa, Roger Wrench. He's
here to share with us some memories about his time
in competitive sports, the good, the bad, and the ugly.
Take it away, Roger.

Speaker 2 (00:28):
I think it was around fifth or sixth grade when
my interest in sports began, and that interest would grow
into a lifelong love. Before that, I was a chubby,
clumsy kid, not very fast or strong, and in the
summer between sixth and seventh grade, I shot up six
inches to six feet tall, dinned out and got pretty

(00:51):
strong and coordinated. I went to Grace Lutheran School, and
we had a great sports program and a network of
Lutheran schools in Kansas City in eastern Kansas. I played
flag football and basketball, and I was the star center
on our team. I also liked baseball, and the summer
after seventh grade, my mom signed me up for Little League.

(01:12):
At our first practice, I didn't recognize a single face.
Not only was I the new kid, but the rest
of them had played together for years. The coaches had
coached them since they were little. I was a rookie
on a team of experienced stars. The next summer, I

(01:32):
played in a different league on a team with friends
from my school, and I had the opportunity to shine
as one of our two starting pitchers. I had never
pitched before, but I had this wicked curveball that couldn't
be hit. It moved about a foot and as the
batters would see it coming at them, they'd back up
off the plate, afraid to get hit. Then it would

(01:52):
curve back over the plate, often for a strike, and
I got dozens of strikeouts that summer, and it felt
great to be a star again and be able to
show what I could do. In ninth grade, things changed
as I went to public school for the first time.
I went from a small private school with about eight
kids in my class to West Junior High where I

(02:13):
had hundreds of classmates. And when it came to sports,
I was in the big leagues now, with a lot
more competition and bigger, faster, and stronger athletes. First came football,
I wasn't very fast, but I could catch anything thrown
near me. I was tall at six foot two, so
they put me at tight end. I was also the

(02:33):
punter and could kick it at good forty yards pretty consistently,
and I have two standout memories from that season. The
first happened at practice one day and I must have
dropped a pass, flubbed a punt, or did something else
to upset the coach. Because we had this drill where
one guy would line up against two other guys and
try to fight his way through. Coach called my name,

(02:54):
and then he called the names of the two biggest
and meanest guys on our team to double team me.
Charles was the toughest guy on our team and could
not the snot out of people, and James was our biggest,
heaviest guy, and I knew I was gonna get killed.
So I did what any scared, skinny string being would

(03:15):
do in that situation and got creative. When we lined
up and Coach blew the whistle, I dove straight down
to the ground in the space between them and tried
to crawl through. Now, when we did this drill, the
whole team was watching, and boy did I earn the
comedy laughs for my efforts. The coach even enjoyed the entertainment,
but unfortunately he made me do it again and faced

(03:38):
my fear, and this time Charles and James were licking
their chops to get to me. I prepared for launch,
and sure enough, when they hit me, I went flying
in the air about ten yards straight back. I think
I still have a bruise of my behind today from
that hit. But you know, I have to thank my
coach because I figured if I could survey that hit

(04:00):
from those two monsters, I didn't have to be afraid
of anything on the field. My other memory was in
a game where we were playing a team that was
beating us bad. We were backed up to our own
ten yard line and it was fourth down. Time to
punt again for about the six or seventh time that game.
So I came out to punt and I'm standing right
on the end zone line. James was lined up behind

(04:23):
the line of scrimmage to block anyone who would try
to get through and block the punt. They hiked me
the ball and as I stepped forward to kick it,
James is backing up and I kicked the ball right
into his backside. It bounces back into the end zone
and the other team recovers it for a touchdown. Despite
that moment, I really enjoyed my first season of tackle football,

(04:46):
and it prepared me for the basketball season, where I
tried out, made the team and played with some of
my football teammates. My basketball experience was quite different. We
had eleven guys on the team and they were all good.
I was the eleventh guy, odd man out, so at
practice where we went five on five, I didn't even
get enough court time to learn the plays. We were

(05:07):
good and won the city championship, so I did get
to play in a few games where we had a
big lead, but every day I mostly just sat there
watching at practice. I felt left out and I didn't
think the coach liked me. In the middle of the season,
I made one of the worst decisions of my life.
I quit. I didn't go to practice, and I didn't

(05:27):
go talk to the coach. I just didn't show up.
I let my teammates down, I let my coach down,
and I let myself down. Quitting like that felt horrible,
way worse than any feeling of being left out. But
I did it, and I learned from it. I made
a decision later never to quit anything just because it

(05:48):
wasn't going my way. That decision has served me well.
In high school, I expanded my sports repertoire. I played
football for a couple years and that led to testing
another sport. The first day of football practice, our coach
made us run a full mile into high heat in humidity.
It was about one hundred degrees by the end of

(06:09):
the first lap. Several of our speedy players passed me
and were way ahead, but as the run went on,
I passed them all back and ended up finishing first,
about a half lap ahead of the next guy. That
raised some eyebrows among my teammates and also my coaches,
and one of them said to me, that's impressive. You

(06:30):
should try out for the cross country team. So the
next school year I did just that. I ran well
and made varsity. But in practice, after we'd go out
and run several miles, which I loved, our coach made
us go over to the track and run quarter and
half miles, several of them again and again, and I

(06:51):
hated it. I couldn't see any point to it since
we're running a three mile race in competition. I completely
lost interest, and before the seat and started I talked
to the coach and told him thanks, but no thanks. However,
I loved long distance running and kept doing it each
day on my own, and forty four years later, I'm

(07:11):
still doing it every day. In nineteen eighty, I went
to Saint John's College in Winfield, Kansas, a small school
with only about three hundred students. At Saint John's, I
played baseball my junior year. We only had one catcher,
so in practice I started warming up our pitchers and
ended up becoming our backup. My shining moment came when

(07:33):
we traveled to Atchison, Kansas for a weekend baseball tournament
hosted by Benedictine College. The first night, our starting catcher
went out and had a little too much fun missing
the curfew, so our coach sat him on the bench
for the next game, and guess who got the start
at catcher. I didn't expect that and was a little nervous,

(07:54):
but I was also excited now. That game was against
the host team, Benedictine, and on their team were a
few of my teammates from that first little league team
I played on in Kansas City. Also in the audience
that day was a pro scout checking out the small
college talent. So the game started and it was pretty close.

(08:16):
I didn't do anything spectacular, but did my job okay
until about the fourth inning when the ball was popped
up now you know how when a ball is popped up,
the catcher will throw off his face mask, look up
to try to find the ball, and then run over
to catch it. Well, I threw off my mask, and
then with my other hand, I threw off my catcher's

(08:37):
mit too. A few seconds later, the razzing started, first
from a few of my friends on the other team
who knew my name and were shouting it out of
their dugout along with their jokes. Then one of my
own teammates brought down the house when he shouted for
everyone to hear hey rogers, next time throw the shin guards.

(08:58):
Both dugouts in laughter. It was embarrassing, but I had
to laugh too, so slowly picked up my face mask
and my glove, looked over at their dugout and then ours,
then bowed before my audience. Some of them even stood
and cheered. Needless to say, I never got a call

(09:21):
from that pro scout despite blowing my opportunity to get
called up for spring training. Sports and athletics have always
been a big part of my life. Along with running,
I bike ride every day and lift weights two or
three times a week. I always wanted to stay in
shape to keep up with my kids, and I played
all kinds of games and sports with them growing up,

(09:44):
and now it's my grandkid's turn. In my lifetime, I've
played many sports and games. I've experienced both the thrill
of victory and the agony of defeat, along with a
few humorous and embarrassing moments. Sports has helped me make friends,
learned work, and kept me in good physical shape. I'll
keep running and playing as best as I can for

(10:06):
as long as I can, and if I die doing it,
it will be with a big smile on my face.

Speaker 1 (10:16):
And a great job on the production by Madison and
a special thanks to Roger Wrench reminding us why we
play sports, and it's for the fun, it's for the bonding.
In high school, I was a captain of my basketball team.
We had a good team and I wasn't paying attention.
We won the tip. I got the ball, raced for
an easy layup in the other guy's basket. Two points

(10:36):
for the other team, wrongway. Habib was my name for
the next two years. Roger Wrench's story here on our
American Stories