Giving Directions

Sometimes we’d have to do things outside of the expected. Directing traffic out of stadium parking lot sometimes was one of those jobs.

Hiram Wilkinson was a coach that I report to for three years and I owe that man a lot – especially in the imagination department. He has since passed away. All in all, a genuine gentleman if I ever met one. In my opinion, he could’ve made in the Affiliates and even in the Majors, but elected to stay with the Independent business.

As I mentioned he had an imagination that wouldn’t quit. A group of friends and I were recalling the man during our coffee spot at the Dunkin Donuts up the street and his handling one such night in the parking lot and traffic exiting onto the city street.

One of the coaches busted the zipper of his fly right after the game. We didn’t bring a change of clothes because we didn’t have the use of the stadium’s shower facilities at the time, so we rode our bus back to our motel, where we changed there.

In any event, the coach who busted the zipper on his fly was a stout individual and the busted fly was really noticeable. We also needed every coach, except assistants, to take up a station in the parking lot to direct traffic.

Somehow, Hiram got a roll of reflective tape and asked that everyone stick a strip right below the belt line, along the fly. His thinking was, if everyone had it on, it wouldn’t be so noticeable on the coach who had the busted fly. Made sense to me.

We stuck that reflective tape everywhere so it wouldn’t be so noticeable on the fly. We stuck that tape on the arms, the front, the back – everywhere.

The night was hot and very humid. The reflective tape stuck well just below the belt, but further down the curvature of the uniform trouser, mixed with the humidity, gave the tape a curlicue end – at the place where a guy doesn’t want a curlicue.

It seemed like every other smart mouth leaving the parking lot asked which way? We were pointing with our arms one way – to the street, but the reflective tape lower down had the curlicue sending people in a different direction.