If either you are familiar with the state of Washington or have followed my posts in linear fashion you will know by know that the eastern part of the state is ruled by agriculture. The predominance of communities are small towns centered around serving the many rural farms in the area. Many school districts have to sprawl across multiple towns in order to be efficient. So it is with Almira/Coulee-Hartline.
Stretched across 20 miles along US Highway 2, ACH is anchored by the towns of Coulee City (home of the high school) to the west and Almira (with the middle school) to the east. Sandwiched halfway between is the tiny community of Hartline. With a population of 180, Hartline is nothing more than a wide spot in the road with little more than a gas station and a cluster of grain elevators. The old Hartline school building ceded its home as ACH to Coulee City in 2008, converting into a community building with the old gym now serving as a port office. Hartline does, however, provide one important (and glorious) contribution to the ACH district – home of the well-cared baseball and softball fields.
From my games at Tri-Cities last night I made my way to Moses Lake to crash overnight once more with Tom and Jill, then made my way out in the morning for my final eastern Washington stop. I was intrigued to see what I would find in this tiny farm town. Would it be like Colton, adjacent to the highway and carved out of a multi-purpose use? Would it look like the field I saw in Endicott, quirky and cozy? Nothing prepared me for the reality.
The game will still over an hour away but the field was buzzing with activity. ACH has long been a power at the 1B level, and the community pride showed in every way. The grounds were immaculate and tucked in a perfect position to enjoy views from every angle. Looking out to over the left field fence I saw acres and acres of farmland, freshly plowed and ready to explode with grain. Over the right field fence was the clutch of tall grain elevators, the closest thing to skyscrapers in this section of the state. The bleachers were well-cared and were already filling with locals looking forward to enjoying a Saturday afternoon of cheering their local boys on.
This was actually my second assignment with Central Columbia Basin and Mike Rhoades. He sent me this assignment originally, but reached out to me to see if I could help cover a double header the Saturday before as he was short-handed. Since that assignment was not “official” (and nothing of note, really) I didn’t blog it. I knew Mike’s dad well from my earlier days at the state, as Ed had preceded me as the state UIC. It was hard to believe that it had already been over a decade since we lost him. Mike and I shared storied about his dad as we prepared for the first game.
I had the plate for game one and was eager to see what awaited. I had already made the mental note to switch from the high-powered talent from last night to the likely lower level that awaited me here. As it turns out, there wasn’t a switch large enough.
The opposing Odessa Tigers went down in order in the top of the 1st, which I thought bode well. ACH put up four runs in the bottom, and the difference in talent became evident early on. It wasn’t until the bottom of the 2nd that I saw just how large the gulf was. Odessa managed to scratch out an out early on. And then the wheels fully and truly fell off.
I’ve seen games before where a team falls into a funk and struggles. For Odessa, this was epic. Their pitcher was incapable of getting the ball close to the plate. Walk after walk, hot batter after hit batter, error after error – Odessa could not scrape out a second out. Several times they looked close, only to bobble it away. Eventually (and mercifully) ACH managed a third out, and we moved to the third inning.
The third was more of the same. A change on the mound didn’t make much difference. By the end of the third inning ACH had mounted a 22-0 lead. After Odessa went down without making any noise in the top of the fourth, the coaches corralled Mike and me.
“We know that state rules say you have to complete five to make it a legal game. But we won’t have any pitching for the second game if we keep going. Is there any way we can just call this one?”
In my time as the steward of the game for the state, my tenet has always been “what’s best for the game.” Yes, I am an advocate for the rules. But there is nothing to be gained from putting these kids through more misery. “Yep, let’s do this. If the state objects, I’ll take the heat.”
Game two was even worse. As I watched the poor Tigers defensively all I could think of was the early scenes in the movie “The Bad News Bears.” These poor kids may have known how to play baseball, but they left it all on the bus today. Slow rollers went between legs. Pop flies missed gloves by several feet. At one point the shortstop finally fielded a sharply batted ball and gave it a toss to the second baseman for what should have been an easy force.
Emphasis on should have been. The poor second baseman reacted as though he was being attacked by a swarm of bees, slapping his glove ineffectually at it.
I felt genuinely bad for these kids. At one point the coach was trying to give his pitcher a pep talk, and I gathered the infield around. While I typically am against coaching as an umpire, everything about this game called for “whatever it takes.” As the infield were gathered, trying to figure out how to stem the onslaught, I gave them a few pointers. Get yourself into ready position – don’t just stand around. Keep your glove on the ground so no balls go under it – it’s okay if it bounces up into your body. Most of all, play for pride and honor the game with your best effort. I was thrilled beyond words when the shortstop finally fielded a grounder hit his way and fired it to first for a rare putout.
In the end, that one out didn’t matter. ACH went up 38-0 with two outs in the second, in spite of trying everything from batting with their off hands to swinging at balls outside the zone. The ACH first base coach lamented that there was no rule as in softball, where the runner could be called out for leading off. Finally, they waved the white towel for Odessa. With a runner on 3rd base (who would have represented the 39th run) ACH’s coach instructed him to steal home. By walking as slowly as possible. The Odessa pitcher looked astonished, then finally figured it out. He walked up to the base runner, tagged him, and I called a nonchalent (and relived) third out.
The 3rd and 4th innings proceeded in the same manner, and Odessa didn’t even pretend to be offended. I think they wanted it to be over just as much as everyone else.
I felt such mixed emotions throughout the contests. This setting was exactly what I dreamed of – an idyllic park in the middle of sweeping farmland. It was a true picture of Americana. On the other hand it reminded me that one of the beauties of baseball was one of its vulnerabilities. The game is built upon the premise of evenness. There is no clock – the defense will eventually prevail.
Today that was not the case. The second game ended 38-0, and I’m sure if we continued as before ACH could have put up 100. I felt genuinely bad for Odessa, and hoped that this outcome would not relegate them to the same fate at St. John-Endicott, who closed up shop for the 2026 season.
I said my goodbyes to Mike and packed up for the trip home. I immensely enjoyed my swing through the eastern part of the state and had so many great memories to sustain me. At the same time I missed Wendy and was looking forward to getting back to my own bed.
The pace back home was relaxed and unhurried. I soaked in the ambiance of the drive along highway 2, which would take me all the way back to Lake Stevens. After I left the little watering hole in Coulee City where Mike and I reflected on the game, his dad, and our respective careers, my phone started blowing up. Apparently a situation happened in Yakima involving an assistant coach who went out of control, and I was asked to weigh in on the rules implications. One thread involved my friend Steve “Hilgy” Hilgendorf and a mutual friend from Wenatchee, who knew some of the folks involved in the incident. As I was passing through Wenatchee at the moment, we chatted about such banal things as local ice cream and barbeque along with the situation. It was fun and friendly, a great capper for my trip home.
As I descended from the west side of the mountains my cell phone entered signal range again, and I saw I received a text from Hilgy to call him ASAP. Assuming it was about the situation, I started with light-hearted banter. I could tell from his response there was something more. Much more.
“Timmy, I just got a text from (our mutual friend) Tom’s wife. It said that Tom ended his life today.”
