Post Fourteen - Dixie Chicken - Estacado Heart

Dixie Chicken - Estacado Heart (c) 2013 J. Scott Vernon DRAFT

A military man in uniform will get your attention, especially when that man is an Army general standing in your doorway. Tom Chandler, the legendary Aggie coach welcomed General Schroeder into his cramped office at Olsen Field.

The two had met before when the university's Athletic Oversight Committee welcomed all the Aggie coaches to share information about their respective programs. It was a brief and cordial meeting on a chilly winter day and coach Chandler wore a suit to the meeting. He was uncomfortable and the knot of his tie was a bit big. Its length too short. He preferred wearing a baseball cap and his coach's uniform. The coach didn't often wear a suit and tie. The general struck a commanding presence in his fitted Army Green uniform. His left chest was full of service medals that told the story of his 39 year military experience. It had been years since he was a foot soldier, but he maintained an active exercise regime. He stayed Army ready. He favored a flat top haircut. Schroeder was quick to put civilians at ease with a firm handshake and a big toothy smile. His Texas drawl was smooth, deep and inviting.

On this day the coach was at ease in his practice baseball uniform. His Aggie baseball cap sat on his desk atop a pile of papers. Along the bill were white sweat stains that were inescapable in the oppressive heat and humidity of College Station. Coach Chandler's face was tan from his cheeks to his chin. The crow's feet  around his eyes evident. His white forehead was in sharp contrast to the rest of his tanned face. He spend his days in the sun.

The general was dressed in a more relaxed fashion as well. He had on his Battle Dress Uniform (BDU) - camouflaged fatigues. He too was more comfortable in his BDUs than in his dress uniform, particularly on the sultry days of a Texas spring. The Corp Cadets enjoyed seeing their Commandant dressed in his fatigues.

Schroeder got right to the point. He told the coach about his friend Mace's son Tucker in California. The general didn't expect any special treatment, but asked if the coach had any room for Tucker on his roster if he could get him in to A&M. It was a shot in the dark this late in the process. National signing day had come and gone and the coach had awarded all of his scholarship spots. Coach knew about Tucker. He told Herman they scouted him last year and considered sending him a recruiting letter but changed their minds when they heard UT was after him. Plus, they found a kid in Georgia who was a great shortstop with a big bat. Besides, Austin had more to offer a California kid - bigger city, more bars, faster women and live music - stuff guys liked. He didn't think College Station would be exciting enough for one of those liberals from the west coast. Frankly, the coach was surprised nobody picked up Tucker and that he didn't go any higher in the draft.

"If I recall he was a top prospect and a decent student," said Coach. "Yep, 3.5, 3.6 something like that, put all his marbles in the draft," said Herman, "he'll probably major in farming or ag stuff, he is a farm kid."

"Ok, I'll take a look at him," said Coach, "but no promises."

He was willing to let him walk-on and tryout in the fall if he got into school. There would be no scholarship nor guarantee and he'd like to meet Tucker in person. It would have to happen soon. The championship  playoffs were coming up soon. The prospect of making the College World Series demands the attention of every program in the country during the spring.

Herman said "fair enough."

When Herman returned to his office on the other side of campus,  he gave Mace a call. "Mace, get your ass on a plane and bring Tucker with you. Coach Chandler wants to meet him. He may have a shot." Mace was excited, at least Tucker would be in college and if he'd play to his potential he could earn a scholarship. It was better than going to the West Hills Community College in God forsaken Coalinga. Well almost, it was, afterall, College Station.

Tucker had known his dad was going to call his friend at Texas A&M, but he didn't expect things to happen so quickly. He was just looking forward to the end of the school year. His dad booked tickets on Delta Airlines out of Fresno for the following Thursday.

They flew into Houston Intercontinental Airport arriving in the late afternoon. Years later the airport would be renamed George Bush Intercontinental Airport after the first Bush president, H.W. Bush. They rented a car and drove the 100 miles through Conroe, Montgomery and Navasota. It was a nice drive with lots of trees on the two lane road until they reached Texas Highway 6, a smooth road that would lead them into College Station.

They stayed on the south edge of town and ate BBQ at C&J Barbeque. Mace and Tucker both enjoyed the tender, smokey brisket, a hunk of cheddar cheese and fried okra. The tea was really sweet. There wasn't anything quite like it in California and the BBQ sauce was unique. They were used to dry rubbed tri-tip beef. No sauce.

The next morning they walked around campus until their 11:00 o'clock meeting with the coach. They bought some Aggie ball caps in the bookstore at the Memorial Student Union. It was a warm day and Tucker was dressed in his starched Wrangler 13mwz jeans, brown lizard roper boots and a close fitting white Locoste polo shirt. His athletic shoulders looked wider, his biceps more pronounced. He had a fresh haircut, but his wavy brown hair still touched the back of his shirt collar. A tad long for Texas. His sideburns stretched to the tip of his earlobe. He didn't care for the pearl snap button shirts with the western yokes favored by the "wannabe cowboys" back home at school.  He thought the snuff can ring in their back pockets looked ridiculous. So did the tips of their colorful nylon braided belts hanging down their leg. He figured they were overcompensating for their "smallness." He didn't have the same problem. He wore a three-piece silver and gold western belt set on a brown hand carved leather belt. He dipped Copenhagen when he played baseball, but he didn't want the girls to know. You would not find a snuff can ring in Tucker's back pockets.

The A&M campus was big and Mace was awed by the tradition, history and size of the school. Tucker was more wild-eyed. The Texas girls looked hot and they all said "howdy" to him. He felt more confident as more girls passed. He put his shoulders back a little further each time. Even the guys said "howdy" and he thought to himself, "they don't look like homosexuals." That threw him off a bit. Maybe they were just friendlier in Texas. Tucker knew it was a military school but he was surprised at how many guys were walking around in uniform. The Corp Cadets seemed to be everywhere.

When they got to the Coach's office there were a couple of guys hanging around in the hallway. Coach Chandler greeted Mace and Tucker with a firm handshake and a "howdy." Tucker wondered, "do they all say this?" It wouldn't be until later when he found out that saying "howdy" to folks was an Aggie tradition. They had lots of traditions in Aggieland. The coach talked a while about the baseball program and offered no assurances Tucker would make the team, although he did say since talking to the General, he took another look at their old scouting report. He was impressed with Tucker's numbers.

The Coach called out to the guys in the hallway to come in his office. "Guys, this is Tucker, the shortstop from California.  "Tucker this is Vondale Wilson our leftfielder and Jimbo Collins one of our catchers." They offered a non-committal handshake. Jimbo said, "You can call me Cooter." Again Tucker thought to himself, "And I thought Jimbo as a redneck name, but Cooter takes the cake." The coach had asked them to take Tucker to lunch while he visited with Mace.

Vondale was a big black guy from the Ninth Ward in New Orleans. He had muscles on top of muscles. He was raised by his grandmother and she was elated her "grandbaby" was getting out of the projects. She worried about all the drugs and violence he was subjected to growing up poor. His bat and his SAT score were his ticket out of the hell hole of the Big Easy. Vondale was a smart, polite manchild. He was a junior, majored in Finance with a 3.4 gpa and a .328 batting average. This season he already had 14 dingers, including one 460 feet long. Dressed in black basketball like shorts with "Aggie Baseball" embroidered on the left leg and a black sleeveless workout shirt, he made Tucker look small. He was certain to play pro ball. He would get to "the show." To him baseball was a means to an end, ultimately he wanted to be a land developer back home Louisiana and knew his degree in Finance would come in handy if he signed a big contract in the pros. Vondale was no man's fool.

Cooter was a piece. He had green bug eyes, curly red hair, freckles, a crooked smile and big ears. He was quick to laugh and tell off color jokes. He looked small for a catcher. His Aggie ballcap was pulled down tight and it made his ears stick out even more. He had on grey sweatpants, a wrinkled maroon t-shirt with "Aggie Football" silkscreened on the front in white. It was well worn and the seams were tattered. Cooter was from Mason, Texas and majored in Natural Resource Management. The only resource management he knew was to chum deer with a sack of corn and then shoot 'em from his deer stand tied up in a tree. He liked to deer hunt and hunting was easy in the Hill Country. There wasn't a need to entice the deer with extra feed, but Cooter wasn't the most ambitious of hunters. He liked to laugh and say "I'm a shooter, rhymes with Cooter, I kill 'em, you chill 'em." He had a 2.3 gpa and limited playing time. He was used mostly to catch the relief pitchers in the bullpen. Now in his third year, his prospects of becoming a starting catcher were slim. He didn't really mind. He knew he was going back to Mason after college. He was having fun. His family had a big ranch and conducted expensive guided hunts for legislators out of Austin and bankers from Dallas. In fact, it was a former Aggie in the governor's office that helped get him into A&M to begin with. Aggies help Aggies.

Vondale and Cooter took Tucker to the iconic Dixie Chicken restaurant across the street from campus for lunch. Calling it a restaurant was stretch. It was another Aggie tradition. It smelled of stale beer, urine and grease. It had pool tables and most of the students were playing "bones" - dominoes and drinking Lonestar beer by the pitcher. Jerry Jeff Walker music was blaring through the speakers. They cooked greasy burgers in the back and had a live rattlesnake behind a glass case in the wall.

There they...