"He rounded third and he's heading home"

TOTS Senior Baseball Network

The Tucson Old Timers (TOTS) lost a shortstop today a 1 p.m.

Ed Rife, 77, passed away.

Nancy Rife, Ed's wife and best friend, sent a message to all the TOTS this afternoon. Her closing sentence said it all, "Ed rounded third and he's heading home."

Playing baseball with the 60-and-over TOTS, the oldest organized baseball team in the country, is an honor and a privilege for the author of this blog. Year in, year out, I take the field with my teammates as we spend a good part of our golden years together on the diamond at Udall Park.

We have our own park. The sign above the backstop says so -- Home of the 60-and-over TOTS.

Sometimes, the final score is meaningless, even though we battle for the win, every time out.

I marvel at the play sometimes, the backhanded stabs, the running catches and the final lunge at first base to beat out a slow roller. But what I marvel at the most is the men who play alongside me -- every single one of them is a Hall of Famer in my book.

Ed Rife was -- and will always be a TOTS Hall of Famer, but he was the only TOT, the only member of the organization, who was inducted into the Greater Akron, Ohio Sports Hall of Fame in 1987.

Ed played ball since he was knee high to a grasshopper. He developed a fluid motion at his shortstop position which was a pleasure to watch. He never hurried a throw, always played within himself and made the play time after time -- even at the age of  76.

And talk about a sweet swing. A lefty, Ed was just as calm at the plate as he was on the infield. And, was he ever patient at the plate! He told me once, "I never swing at the first pitch."

The Akron Hall of Famer, played in the Men's Senior Baseball League World Series, just a year ago. He pitched the final two innings and saved the game that put our team into the playoffs. I should know. I was there, right behind him at third base. I never wanted to win a ball game more than I did that day. It was Ed's final tournament, final senior World Series...his last hurrah.

Nancy told me a few months ago that they shared their life together for more than fifty-seven years. She witnessed every ball game he played in, every scoop he made in the infield and every perfect throw he made to first base -- from high school, to college, to semi-pro ball...wherever...and whenever Ed played, she was there.

Ed's memorial service will be held Wednesday, Sept. 3, at 1 p.m. at  the Adair Funeral Home, 1050 N. Dodge. The TOTS will be there to say 'good-bye" to "Mr. Smooth".

Photos above: Mr. Smooth himself, Ed Rife.

Photos by: Lloyd Barzell



Remembering Ed, from the blog
of Conrad Royksund

Ed Rife: Better Than We Were

It is the experience of most of us
that some people are just better at doing things
than we are. Ed Rife was like that.
He played baseball as if it were a skill
as ordinary as walking, and sometimes
he wondered why most of us
had so much trouble walking.

It did not happen often, but sometimes
he wondered out loud, and when he did,
most of us concentrated on the basics:
things like learning how to walk,
or paying attention to how many
outs there were, and when not to bunt.
And to ourselves, we wondered why
Ed made it look so easy.

He didn't attack a pitched ball.
He met it with grace and a swing
that was not something added on:
it was part of the arch of the line drive,
part of how he turned to first;
part of how he knew what would happen,
and whether it was possible to take two.

Maybe Ed was born that way.
Maybe he got to Carnegie Hall by practicing.
Whatever it was, it was something lovely
when Ed picked up a ground ball
and turned to first in one easy motion,
and when he did, we said, "Damn
he makes that look easy."
And we promised ourselves that
we would pay more attention,
and try to become better than we were.

Some people do things better than we,
and maybe we do somethings well, too,
but rarely with the easy grace of Ed,
looking down part first, as if he already knew
what he could do; while we
tried to become better than we were.