Laos Books

This one was for Tom Harding.

The boys – his boys – in black and orange uniforms will tell you.

As will acting head coach Alex Zachwieja – or “Coach Z” as he’s called since his last name gets butchered more than 60 pounds of beef.

Yep, this was for Harding – the grandfatherly head coach of the Honaker baseball team who looked frail and tired as he walked into the “Highlander Suite” next to the press box behind home plate in the sixth inning.

Yes, this was for Harding – the Robert E. Lee lookalike who wields a baseball bat instead of a saber and rides the pine, not atop a steed named Traveler.

It’s why Cory Brown waited near the third-base line. Jersey still on. Cap still affixed to his head. Eye-black beaded up with a salty swill of sweat and tears. Brown’s eyes – red and wide. His smile – big and bright. Waiting, just waiting for Harding to make his way through a human hallway of hugs.

Slowly walking. The small steps of a coach tired from surgery, a night in the hospital and a long drive that got him to the ballpark as the sixth inning started Saturday.

And there waited Brown. Patiently. Not pushing his way through, saddled behind Honaker fans of all shapes and sizes, every one of them gently hugging Harding. Some lightly patting his back.

One, Bobby Miller, placing his cheek upon the coach’s and saying into his ear, “Love you, buddy.”

Another, holding Harding as close as he could and burying his face into the coach’s chest before the fan broke down, his head bobbing as he cried.

“You earned this coach,” he said.

And Brown still waited.

“This is a dream come true,” said the Tigers third baseman.

Brown was the first to whip off his glove and fling it toward the ground after the final out.

The first to chuck his cap into the sultry sky.

“The first one to tackle [pitcher Chaz] Miller,” Brown said. “And the one on the bottom of the dog pile.”

The weight of 16 other players on top of him.

“It was awesome,” he said. “Just awesome.”

Jordon Dye topped the pile. The last man on after running to the dugout and making sure Harding, standing on the steps and smiling, got his hands on the game ball. The catcher, seconds later, flung himself into the air and reached the top.

Much like Honaker and its coach of 41 years did Saturday.

The coach who nearly missed the moment with chest pains Friday morning and surgery later that day.

“I looked over toward the dugout and saw [Harding],” Dye said. “And saw him smiling real big.”

When the interviews were over and the trophies handed out, Dye sighed, wiped tears from his eyes and looked over at Harding, who was still working his way through the mass of hands near the third-base line.

Back toward where Brown waited. And waited.

“I have nothing but tears in my eyes,” Brown said.

Finally, the No. 21 found his coach and pushed himself away for a second to take him all in.

Coach smiled.

Brown began to sob, tears streamed down his face. Then he swallowed Harding in a hug, and his voice muffled against his coach’s chest, he said it.

“This one’s for you.”

It was.