I guess WHO-TV, channel 13, is doing a good job with its newscasts. At least Tim Gardner of the station tells me so. Here's the unedited quote from Gardner: "The May television ratings have just been released and WHO-HD is now the undisputed #1 newscast at 10 p.m' and in the morning. Channel 13 News at 10 wins with a 25.5 share…a .2 share advantage. Today in Iowacontinues as the undisputed #1 morning news leader by SIX full share points with an incredible 42.9 share. That means nearly 43% of 18 to 49 year olds watching television in central Iowa between 5 & 7 a.m. are watching WHO. Channel 13 News at 6 remains in a dead heat for the top spot trailing by just 2.3 share points."

Chatter Is Baseball's Disappearing Act

By RON MALY

As I keep saying, the longer I live, the less I understand.

On a warm, sunny afternoon  this week, I was watching a high school baseball game with my son and daughter-in-law. 

What I couldn't figure out was that the only noise in the ballpark was being generated by the fans--most of whom were parents, grandparents and other relatives of the players from each team. 


The players and coaches were generally, and strangely, quiet. 

That seemed unusual to me because when I played Kids' League and high school baseball in Cedar Rapids many years ago, there always was "chatter" on the field and in the dugout. 

Coaches and players were always delivering words and shouts of support from the dugout and the coaching boxes to those on their team. 

When a team was on defense, a coach would always remind his players to vocally cheer on the players. 

"Let's hear it out there!" a coach would shout from the dugout when he didn't think there was enough chatter from the catcher and the infielders. "Let me hear some chatter! Make some noise!"

The pitcher was the only quiet guy, but that was understandable. 

He expected his teammates to be cheering him on. 

In the baseball of today, there is silence. 

At least in the games I've witnessed in recent years.

 "Don't they ever say anything out there?" I asked my son.

 "No," he answered. "It's not cool." 

Not cool? 

I think being silent is the only thing that's not cool.

I hear nothing from the coaches in the dugout, nothing from the  coaches at first base and third base, nothing from the catchers, infielders and outfielders. 

I'm not even sure there's any chatter in professional baseball anymore. 

The next time I talk to Joe Giardi and Mike Matheny, I'll ask 'em about that.

In the old days--by that, I mean the really old days--assorted loudmouths in major league baseball would get fights started by insulting players from the other team. 

I don't see that happening at all now. 

My answer to this business of "it's not cool" to chatter in baseball is that football and basketball players do plenty of talking and plenty of downright yelling and screaming at opposing players [and sometimes even their own teammates] during games, don't they? 

Then why not in baseball, too?

Since when did baseball become the silent sport?

Like I said, the longer I live, the less I understand. 

B. J. Windhorst Is a Gamer, and I Hope He's Finally the Coach Who Can Take An Eraser To the Underachiever Label That Has Haunted Valley's Boys' Basketball Program Since 1993

By RON MALY

Hardly a day goes by when I can't figure out something I see in the paper, and today was no exception. 

I saw the story that said B. J. Windhorst will be Valley's new boys' basketball coach.  

Windhorst was quoted as saying, "When you have a position like Valley become open, it's a great opportunity. I'm extremely excited."  

In the last paragraph of the story, it says, "Windhorst did not immediately return calls seeking comment." 

To me, that sounds like either dumb reporting or dumb editing. 

My guess is it's probably both. 

But, like I said earlier, it's something else in the paper I can't figure out. 

All I know is this: I've written plenty of times that the Valley job is very challenging. 

The Tigers haven't won a state championship since Bill Harris' 1993 team did it. 

In recent years, Valley has been an underachieving boys' program, including during the years Jeff Horner was in charge. 

For a long time, it was thought that the best athletes in the huge school played football, not basketball. 

Could be. 

Football coach Gary Swenson has won five class 4-A state championships at Valley. 

Swenson is a wonderful coach, and obviously he's someone who understands Valley and its athletic program. 

The Tigers will be loaded in football again in 2014. 

They always are.

I don't know if they can beat Dowling [or, for that matter, Waukee and Southeast Polk], but they'll be representative, you can be certain. 

In my estimation, Valley is a sleeping giant in basketball. 

I hope Windhorst is the right guy at the right time at 35th and Woodland in West Des Moines. 

I do know he's a gamer. 

I covered him when he played basketball at Drake, and I like his attitude. 

He did a good job when he coached at Southeast Polk, which means he understands the Central Iowa Metro League. 

It's time Valley's basketball program rid itself of that underachiever label, starting in the 2014-2015 season. 

Here it is June 8 and I hear that the second game of the NBA's final playoff round is being played. That probably means that the championship will be decided on about the Fourth of July. Tell somebody to wake me up when the title game is on TV so I can see Michael Jordan make the winning basket. That's the only time I pay any attention to professional basketball.

Most of today was drab and rainy, but a 97-year-old firecracker of a guy injected some sunshine into it on my 32-inch Sony TV this afternoon. Lenny Merullo, the oldest living Chicago Cub to have played in a World Series, sent a charge through Wrigley Field before and after singing "Take Me Out To the Ballgame in the seventh inning. Merullo was a Cubs shotrstop from 1941 through 1947 and played in three games of the 1945 World Series, which Detroit won from the Cubs, 4 games to 3. The Cubs haven't been in a World Series since. The Cubs' 5-2 victory today over Miami was their fifth in a row, but the way they've played most of the season, it may be another century or two before they get to another World Series. Hopefully, Merullo will still be alive when it happens. Merullo was a delight while being interviewed by the Cubs' TV announcers before and after the song he sang with the Wrigley Field crowd. A guy nearing 100 years of age made more sense than Theo Epstein, the Cub president who is showing signs of brain damage these days in the wake of his decision to sign Manny Ramirez to be a player/coach for the Cubs' Triple-A farm team that plays at Sec Taylor Stadium in Des Moines. Merullo's appearance behind the microphone at Wrigley Field could be compared to, say, Paul Morrison of Des Moines, another soon-to-be-97-year-old, singing the Star Spangled Banner prior to a Drake basketball game at the Knapp Center.

Photo courtesy of cubs.com

The Chicago Cubs are such a bad team that even their radio station is giving up on them. That's right, WGN, which has broadcast the Cubs' games for 90 years or so, says it's somebody else's turn to bring lousy baseball over the air to longtime fans of the team. Starting next season, Chicago station WBBM will be the Cubs' flagship station. I don't know if that setup will in any way change what happens to people who want to hear Cub games in places like Des Moines, Cedar Rapids and Timbuktu, but we'll find out. Now, of course, Des Moines station KRNT broadcasts the Cubs' games, via a feed from WGN. I don't listen to nearly as many games on the radio as I once did [hell, I don't even listen to radio much anymore], but I hope KRNT makes a deal with the Cubs' new station next year and in years to come because it's sometimes fun to listen to how the radio announcers describe the comical way the Cubs play. As a kid, I'd try to listen to Cub games from my home in Cedar Rapids. I'd get a crackly sound directly from WGN, and not much else. The Cubs were no better then than they are now, of course. By the way, WGN-TV is also in the process of dumping the Cubs. That also may happen next season. Tough times for the battered old ballclub.

Same old stuff at the paper. As has been the case for the past 15 years, the news is being distributed Pony Express style. Jack Dittmer died last Saturday, and his obituary--all 6 paragraphs of it in small type under the heading IOWA SCENE--was in Tuesday's paper. People at the paper should be ashamed of themselves for short-changing Dittmer, a member of the paper's Hall of Fame. Jack Dittmer, from small northeast Iowa community Elkader, was a rare athlete. The guy was awarded a phenomenal nine letters in three sports at the University of Iowa. Something like that is unheard of now. He also was a major league baseball player for more than 5 seasons. A truly amazing person. I'm very happy I was able to spend a day with him 26 years ago in Elkader. I'm glad I was able to hear him tell his story. I'm glad I was able to write his story.

Here's my 1988 story on Dittmer when he became the 117th member of the paper's Hall of Fame:

By RON MALY

Jack Dittmer

Elkader, Ia. -- When Jack Dittmer was a second baseman for Milwaukee in the 1950s, no player knew him better than Ernie Johnson.

Johnson, a pitcher, was Dittmer's roommate when Milwaukee, not Boston or Atlanta, was the home of the Braves. Because the two spend so much time together, Dittmer said Johnson was his best friend on the club.

Dittmer, 60, now sells automobiles in Elkader, and regularly listens to Johnson talk about the Braves on television. Johnson is a commentator for the Atlanta games carried by cable station WTBS.

"Dittmer was a good, bear-down ballplayer," Johnson recalled when told his old roommate was becoming the 117th member of The Des Moines Sunday Register's Iowa Sports Hall of Fame.

"I don't know how many people realize it, but he also was quite a prankster.

"I'll never forget an incident that happened one night in St Louis. While 'The Star-Spangled Banner' was being played, the stadium lights were turned out. Dittmer than gave Manager Charlie Grimm a hotfoot by setting fire to his shoelaces.

Born in a Small Town

"Grimm let out a yell, saying, 'Dittmer!' when he felt the firse. He knew right away it was Jack who did it."

Small-town Jack Dittmer a hotfoot artist? Jack Dittmer, the kid with the flat-top haircut from Elkader, causing a stir in a big-league dugout? Jack Dittmer, who won a record 12 letters at Elkader High School and a rare nine at the University of Iowa, torching Charlie Grimm's shoelaces during the national anthem?

Well, just because Dittmer was a product of small-town America doesn't mean he didn't know how to have fun in the big city.

***

On a hot, dry afternoon in this picturesque northeast Iowa community of 1,500, Jack Dittmer is as far removed from a major-league dugout or a major-college football stadium as he could be.

His only connections with professional baseball are the telecasts he watches and the occasional games he sees in person in Milwaukee. Every fall, he makes the drive to Iowa City for two or three Hawkeye football games, and he watches most of Iowa's basketball games on TV.

He's still a Hawkeye fan, still knows who's doing what in the National and American leagues.

But today, he talks about how this town he has always called home needs rain. On a typical busy afternoon, he drops off the mail, pays a couple of bills, then makes a brief stop at home. He comes across as anything but a dugout hotfoot specialist as he shows a visitor the baseball caps, autographs in his recreation room.

Braves Dissatisfied

They are reminders that Dittmer was an outstanding baseball and football player at Iowa, and that he spend five years and three days as a major-league baseball player -- four of the seasons with Milwaukee.

Dittmer's first year in the majors was with the then-Boston Braves in 1952. In 93 games, he hit .193. But improvement came quickly.

His best season was 1953, after the franchise was moved to Milwaukee. It was his first season as a regular, and he hit .266, belted nine home runs and 22 doubles and had 63 runs-batted-in.

You would have thought that would be enough to install him as Milwaukee's second baseman for at least several seasons. But that's not the way it happened.

"I think the Braves made a big mistake after that season," Johnson said. "Dittmer had enjoyed a good year, and was only 25 years old. Then, all of a sudden, the club dropped a bombshell and got Danny O'Connell from Pittsburgh. The deal didn't help either Dittmer or O'Connell. Danny played a little more than Jack, but I could never understand why the Braves thought they needed to make a change."

O'Connell hit .279, .225 and .239 in his years with Milwaukee.

Dittmer played in 66 games in 1954 and hit .245. He appeared in 38 and 44 games the next two seasons before winding up his major-league career at Detroit in 1957.

No Bitterness

His final two seasons in Milwaukee he hit .125 and .245. With the Tigers, he hit .227, leaving him with a composite major-league average of .232.

Dittmer spent half the 1957 season at Detroit, then was sent to the minors at Birmingham, Ala. He played for Phoenix in 1958, Seattle and Sacramento in 1959, then retired.

Dittmer displays no bitterness at the way things went.

"I guess the Braves wanted a second baseman who could hit better than .266," he said.

"But that .266 average could make a lot of money for a player now."

We hear a lot about the millionaires who play the game today.

Dittmer wasn't one of them.

"I got a $6,000 bonus when I signed with the Braves," Dittmer said. "The minimum major-league starting salary then was $6,000 a year, and the most I earned was $13,000 in my one season with Detroit."

Dittmer supplemented his income by working for his father at the Dittmer Motor Co. in the offseason. He took over the business after his father died in December 1962. He sold the company in 1985, but still manages the dealership.

***

Although Dittmer came from the corn belt, he said he had no problem adjusting to the fast lane of major-league baseball.

"I was traveling all the time when I played two major sports at Iowa," he said. "Our football team played UCLA in Los Angeles before about 80,000 fans. Being in big cities ans playing in front of big crowds, wasn't anything new to me once I got to the Braves."

Dittmer attended Iowa on a football scholarship, and lettered four times on Coach Eddie Anderson's teams during the 1946 through '49 seasons, playing end. He also earned four letters in baseball and one in basketball before graduating in 1950 with a degree in general science.

Nine-Letter Hawkeye

Surprisingly, he says basketball was his best and favorite sport. But, even in the 1940s, the demand wasn't great for 6-foot 1-inch centers.

Dittmer said the last Hawkeye athlete before him to earn nine letters was Erwin Prasse, who got three each in football basketball and baseball in the late 1930s and early-1940s. Dittmer said no University of Iowa athlete since him has earned nine letters.

That Dittmer played on just one Hawkeye team that had a record above .500, was on no Big Ten championship squads and went ot no bowl games didn't dampen his career.

He was chosen Iowa's Most Valuable Player in 1949, and was in the school record book for a long time as the career leader in touchdown catches with 13. As a senior, he set a Big Ten Conference season record for yards gained in pass receiving with 333.

Dittmer had good hands and adequate speed.

"If the quarterback could get the ball to me," he said, "I could catch it. And if I got into the open, no one caught me from behind."

Despite his light weight (165 pounds), Dittmer never backed away from a collision on the football field. Following a rare Iowa victory over Ohio State in 1948, Dittmer was asked about a run-in with the Buckeyes' 220-pound Joe Whisler.

Although Whisler had steamrolled him, Dittmer said: "Did you see me take him on? I wonder if he's out of the hospital yet."

Dittmer's nickname was Skinny. The years have added bulk to his body, and the nickname no longer fits. He plays an occasional round of golf, and it's his goal to trim a few pounds soon.

He and Darlene, his wife of nearly 38 years, are the parents of three children -- daughters Lisa, 32, and Jan, 30, both of whom are married; and son, Doug, 17.