by Clyde Whitaker

With the Detroit Tigers close to gaining a playoff berth at this time, it brings back to mind my playing days, pitching for our beloved Stockbridge Panthers and my time spent pitching in the semi-pro Jackson Recreation League.

Growing up outside of Munith and surrounded by farmland, I practiced my pitching at home on my homemade pitching mound, throwing fastball after fastball through an old tire that I had hanging on a rope from our old pear tree. I didn’t throw many curveballs through the tire, only fast, faster, and fastest fastballs!

We also had a small orchard, with a few apple trees that always dropped tons of apples on the ground. My dad tasked me with the pickup of the apples so that the mower wouldn’t be throwing them all over the yard.

Naturally, I made a game out of this, taking the apples over near the road then proceeding to throw them as hard as I could against the trees, watching them explode every time they hit a tree. That was fun!

Growing up, I was lucky to have two great baseball coaches, Ron Driscoll and Larry White. Pitching on the varsity team, I had Coach Driscoll for my sophomore and junior years and Coach White for my senior year.

Coach Driscoll really taught me how to pitch. I always thought that pitching meant throwing it as hard as you could, but Coach Driscoll said that eventually, the hitter would time your pitches, so mixing up the speeds of the ball would throw the batter off. He was right.

Under their guidance, I was a two-time unanimous All-League pitcher in the Ingham County League. My league record was 8-0 my junior year, and 6-0 my senior year. I had another three non-league wins, including a no-hitter I threw against Chelsea my sophomore year, to finish my career with a 17-3 record.

After high school, I attended a Los Angeles Dodgers tryout camp in Coldwater. I was 21 years old. I tried out as a pitcher, along with about 30 other guys, all of us standing around until the Dodgers scout (all decked out in a major league uniform and holding a clipboard) called out our names.

Well eventually the scout called out “Clyde Whitaker” and I went and got on the pitcher’s mound. It was a nice mound and I was throwing to a pretty good catcher, but one not as good as my old catchers, Jeff Adams, Ralph King and Dave Chrisinski. The ball popped as it exploded into the catcher’s mitt (I loved that sound).

After about five minutes of throwing fastballs, changeups, and curveballs, the scout came over to me, holding his clipboard and said the words I was hoping to hear, “You have a major league fastball.” Naturally I was very excited but I tried not to show it. The scout said he wasn’t sure of the actual speed of my fastball. “Ninety miles per hour, plus or minus,” he said.

The scout then told me that he wanted me to go to another camp they would be having in Kalamazoo, where I would throw again and have my speed measured by a Jug gun, commonly called a radar gun. 

What happened next I still regret. I told the scout, “If I have a major league fastball, why don’t you sign me now?” I was 21. I didn’t go to Kalamazoo. Young and dumb.

As I look back on the life I’ve had, a beautiful loving family, a wonderful wife, a son that gave his life in service to our community, grandkids that are the best, a Stockbridge community with the key to my heart, I can see it all worked out in the end, my destiny.

What will be your destiny?

Clyde Whitaker is a 1973 Stockbridge graduate. He and his wife, Mary, raised four children in Stockbridge, and they still reside in the Stockbridge area.

Photos provided by Clyde Whitaker