GALVESTON — Patrick Schoenvogel pounded the numbers on his cell phone furiously, sending text messages to anyone who could spare a dollar. Norma Villarreal crumpled the loose-leaf piece of paper in her hand, where she wrote down notes and ideas. David Hernandez paced up and down the bleachers, constantly loosening his tie as the late Thursday afternoon sun beat down on the Ball High baseball field.
The parents of the Galveston West Isle All-Star team desperately wanted to celebrate at the team’s weekly meeting. Just two days earlier, their 13- and 14-year-old sons captured the Junior Baseball East Texas State Championship in Tyler.
Instead, tension and nerves thicker than the late July humidity filled the stands. They tried to determine how to send 11 kids to the Junior League Baseball Southwest Regional Tournament — District 14’s first since a group of 10-year-olds accomplished the same feat in 1995 — to Midland.
Melody Fabian read the list of options: flights for $300, plus a rental car at $30 a day; a charter bus for $9,700; hotel rates came to $75 a night. The estimated cost for each player came to $1,000 for transportation, stay and food. And that was a low figure.
“There’s no way we can afford this,“ Hernandez said. “We can’t even afford furniture for our houses — if we have houses.”
While their parents dealt with the adult issues, the members of Galveston West Isle descended the bleachers to the diamond. It’s where they go to feel comfortable, to get away from the tribulations that invade daily life on the island.
Five of the 11 players aren’t living in their former homes due to Hurricane Ike. Some are with relatives, while others moved to new houses. Several no longer go to school in Galveston. They’ve been displaced to Dickinson and Santa Fe.
D.J. Enriquez lives in League City, 30 miles from Galveston. He and his parents drive more than 90 minutes for practices.
Enriquez wouldn’t play anywhere else.
“These guys are my buddies, who I grew up with,” he said. “I want to play with them.”
The players didn’t bring their cleats, gloves or bats, for some the only possessions they have. So they dug up a tennis ball and found a wooden bat in the car. Batting practice was on.
Reminders of the hurricane surround the field. Debris and tree limbs scatter beyond the left field wall while Federal Emergency Management Agency trailers stand across the street from first base.
But the diamond, with its familiarity and perfect dimensions of 90 feet between bases and 60 feet, 6 inches from the pitchers mound to home plate, provides a safe haven. It’s their shelter.
“I would rather be on the baseball field than just about anywhere else,” Jose Perales, nicknamed “Big Cat” because of his size, said. “Baseball is life, and the field is where I belong.”
The field, unlike most places in these children’s lives, has presented few challenges. West Isle has dominated opponents so far, going 9-0 in district, sectionals and state. They’ve outscored opponents 114-33.
The one close call for West Isle came in the semifinals of the state tournament. Down three runs to Sinton in the final inning, West Isle rallied for four. Three of the runs came with two outs.
A couple of walks, base hits and stolen bases brought the deficit to one. Then a hit-by-pitch tied the game before Nick Orewiler won the game with a sharp single to left field on a 1-2 pitch.
“This team is a different group of kids,” coach Ryan Orewiler, Nick’s father, said. “They really care for each other, work together. The three-hole guy bunts, if we need a grounder to the right side to score a run, it happens. And that can be rare for kids this age. It’s hard to understand the sum is greater than the parts.”
It hasn’t been as smooth off the field. Besides each family’s personal issues, the team has dealt with a plethora of setbacks.
The team’s playing field was unavailable, submerged in 15 feet of water after the hurricane. FEMA trailers stacked a few feet apart consumed the other junior league diamonds.
Ball High donated its field to West Isle. It worked for practices, which had to be held on Sunday afternoons at 4 p.m., the hottest part of the day.
Games were another story. West Isle was forced to play all their home games, with the exception of three, in Santa Fe, 18 miles away.
“All that, it was hard for the kids, but I think, made us stronger,” Orewiler said. “I mean we had some kids lose their lunch at practice, but when it was 100 degrees in Tyler, our kids were fresh and comfortable playing on another field. The other teams weren’t.”
The team’s concession stand — a chief source of revenue — has been broken into five times.
“I guess someone really likes Big Red,” joked Schoenvogel, referring to the soft drink.
Humor is just one of myriad ways parents deal with the stark reality: they’ve raised just $2,200 and the regional tournament starts in six days.
Others pace nervously while some shout out suggestions — carwash, box lunches, liquor raffle — with optimism.
Yet everyone is an agreement on one thing — getting these kids to Midland. The parents gaze out onto the field and watch their children find joy in playing baseball with a tennis ball. Smiles are seen, and laughter can be heard.
Baseball is a blessing, the one thing that provides stability and normalcy.
“Nothing has been normal for these kids in a year except baseball,” Villarreal said. “It’s why we come here, why we fight for them to have this chance and why we buy them equipment.”
Which makes the trip to Midland, no matter the cost, worth every penny.
Those interested in helping the West Isle team go to regionals can contact Kathy Orewiler at rorewiler(at)comcast.net or Melody Fabian at 409-354-6955.
