This much is true. I hit a home run.

For years, Kevin Sweeney, the retired editor of The New Ulm Journal, wrote up New Ulm’s St. Patrick’s Day celebration. It was his way of poking fun at the dour Germans who surrounded him. 

Kevin reported on true events, like New Ulm’s few Irish gathering at a bar. Then there were less-true events, like dressing Herman in green and music by the O’Concord Singers. Readers were warned to believe his reports “at their own peril.” Consider this column in that vein. 

In thinking about my upcoming 50th class reunion, it occurred to me that this would be the 50th Anniversary of My Home run. That is capitalized. In my small life, it was a large moment. 

The spring of 1974 was rainy. The first game for Sleepy Eye St. Mary’s was delayed until April 16 at Comfrey. Coach Moe Moran had me batting seventh and playing left field. It was the kind of thing you do for a senior who played six years of school ball despite little evidence of talent. 

In the movie Field of Dreams, Ray Kinsella says, “There comes a time when all the cosmic tumblers have clicked into place, and the universe opens itself up for a few seconds to show you what’s possible.” That day in Comfrey the cosmic tumblers aligned. I hit a home run and a double. The headline in the Herald Dispatch read, “Knights Win Opener 6-2 On Krzmarzick’s Bat.” 

You must understand how unlikely that was. I represent a thin sliver of baseball players between those who are good and those who are smart enough to quit. We are the players who made the indistinguishable outs and unspectacular plays. 

My hitting a home run and a double was the blind squirrel and the nut. Mediocrity had it’s day in the sun. The common man was uncommon. It was proof writ large that anything can happen. And don’t most of us wake up each day hoping anything will happen?

Then it hardly ever does? 

As fate would have it, it was 10 more days till we played again. That was enough time for a mythology to develop that said I was good. Moe had me batting cleanup at our next game. What followed was what statisticians call regression to the mean. Unlikely or extreme events are likely to be followed by likely events. In brief, I mostly sucked after that. 

Now, some less-true things. After the centennial of Babe Ruth’s visit to Sleepy Eye, it made sense to keep that distinguished committee of civic leaders, corporate heads, and captains of industry together to plan for the 50th Anniversary of my home run. (Well, a few of us had a beer together.) 

The first task was to seek corporate sponsors. This was easy; who wouldn’t want your business associated with such a prestigious event?

Schartz Farms, Inc. signed on at the Gold Level. John Shwartz was in right field that day in Comfrey. If Schwartz Farms signed on, we agreed to tell everyone how good John was. Look for the Official Bacon of the 50th anniversary celebration. 

Miller Sellner Implement was next to sign on. Nine of my cousins work there, so they could hardly say no. As a special during 50th anniversary week, Miller Sellner will be offering $10 off the purchase of the new AF11 combine. Since they retail for over half a million dollars, you’re going to want to take advantage of that. 

Randy’s Drug is on as a silver level sponsor. Randy Armbruster actually pitched for Comfrey on that fateful day. To his credit, he pitched three scoreless innings before the Comfrey bullpen imploded. “Army” got me out once before my historic blows. 

“Army” is annoyed that I keep bringing that game up. He was a really good baseball player who hit a lot of home runs. But alas, it’s all about timing and self-promotion. Look for Randy’s Drug to offer specials on headache medication, to help Randy get through the Week. 

Planning for the 50th anniversary parade was going well. Bands, floats, dignitaries, clowns in little cars, and a marching cat brigade all agreed to take part. Unfortunately, the DOT would not let us close Highway 14 as it becomes Main Street. 

So, parade participants will have to wait for a red light at 4 and 14 to stop traffic. Then they’re going to go really fast to the east before the light turns green. It should be exciting. The pace will slow when they turn onto First Avenue. Things could get confusing though as they try to figure out whether to follow the city’s or the county’s stripes. All of us in Sleepy Eye have been doing that while hoping to avoid a collision. 

Next up was planning for the 50th anniversary concert. In keeping with the spirit of my home run, it made sense to feature a one-hit wonder. A very few of you might remember “Seasons in the Sun” by Terry Jacks, which was briefly a hit in the spring of 1974. 

“We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun.” 

How perfect is that! Unfortunately, plans for Terry’s short concert had to be scrapped when we realized all the places I hung out in 1974 are unavailable. The Orchid Inn, George’s Ballroom, and the Gibbon Ballroom are not currently hosting music. Or anything else. 

A slightly younger Wayne Pelzel was my first base coach on that glorious day. Wayne is now mayor of Sleepy Eye. Perhaps some sort of proclamation growing from that odd circumstance is forthcoming? 

There will be bus tours from Sleepy Eye to the Comfrey Ballpark. You’ll be able to stand in the batters’ box and imagine scorching one over the left field cable. Yes, cable. In 1974, there was no fence. Only a cable about two feet off the ground. That has led to disputes among baseball historians. Someone told me my double was really a home run, and someone else said my home run was really a double. Along with the question of  whether Babe Ruth called his shot in the 1932 World Series, it is one of the great mysteries of baseball. 

The bus will stop at the Comfrey Bar and Grill where Leon will be offering a Randy’s Homerun Special. You’ll be able to order anything off the menu for regular price, and they’ll throw in a glass of water. For a small upcharge, they’ll make that a beer. 

All of this might or might not be true. It is true that I hit a home run. And it is true that I’m going to celebrate that at the Sleepy Eye Brewery next Sunday, April 14th,, from 3 to 6 p.m. If you want to join me, I’ll tell you how mammoth my home run has grown to be in 50 years’ time.

— Randy Krzmarzick farms on the home place west of Sleepy Eye, where he lives with his wife, Pam.