Anyone strolling along the Ohio Wesleyan campus over the past few years has probably noticed the new and more recognizable red hats the baseball teams wear, but not everyone knows the story behind them.
OWUâs baseball program is well-known among baseball fans in the U.S. because of alumni like Branch Rickey, who helped his agent, Jackie Robinson, break the color barrier of professional baseball in 1945.
Additionally, Tim Corbin, current Vanderbilt baseball head coach, created an elite program at the Division I college in Tennessee by winning multiple SEC Championships and a National Championship.
But among the OWU baseball program, one name is constantly being thought of and commemorated: Ryan Missler.
Missler, who died in August 2014, left a legacy behind at OWU when he graduated in 1998, going down as one of the best baseball players to ever step foot onto the diamond, according to his former coaches.
The former standout third baseman was 38 when he was involved in the crash that served as a loss to not only the OWU community, but to a wife, kids and numerous loved ones.
After hearing the news before the start of the 2014 season, the baseball team, led by the efforts of head coach Tyler Mott, decided that Missler deserved proper recognition and memorial, so they changed their caps to resemble those that Missler and his teammates wore during his career here.
The hat was red and included a black capital “W” as well as the number “7,” Misslerâs number, which was retired for the remainder of OWU baseball history.
Missler, with a career batting average of .400, falls into fifth place in the OWU record books, as well as holding the record for most home runs in a season.
Though elite, his baseball skills aren’t entirely what compose the many memories he left behind. Missler was an exceptional person, as well as student, as told by his former coaches, including Fody Frentsos, current assistant coach.
Frentsos recalled a specific story, in which Missler brought humor and positivity to a situation involving quite the opposite feelings felt by a teammate and left-hand man, his shortstop. He shined in his leadership skills, by not only his words, but through his actions and never-ending thirst to succeed.
Roger Ingles, current OWU director of athletics, used to be heavily involved in the OWU baseball team, serving as a coach for multiple years. He said Missler always showed up ready to play hard.
“Everybody else kind of followed suit, because you had a guy that plays like that every day,” he said. “It just rubs off on everyone else.”
A player like Missler still serves as a mold for current OWU baseball players.
Justin Dages, senior shortstop, said Coach Mott views the hat as something that needs to be worked for and earned.
“The hat is the one thing that coaches hold back until we pass our fitness test, because of what it represents, which is those we have lost in our program: Ryan [Missler], and now [Brandon] Sega as well,â Dages said. âIt also represents everyone who wore the uniform before us in this program and every time we put it on we play not only for each other, but for all of those who came before us.â
The players understand that the game of baseball goes past the diamond or batting cage by wearing these caps.
When Ryan Missler hit a home run, it went farther than people were ready for.
At home in a practice game, he knocked a ball into the middle of Route 23, a record, then broke it by hitting the ball past 23. At Wittenberg, the ball went far over the fence and hit an oak tree so hard it ripped the skin off the ball.
After a game at Ohio State, which Ohio Wesleyan won, his two home runs made the news on all three channels; radio broadcaster Dave Maetzold described it by saying “this is Ryan Missler, and he hits a missile out of Bill Davis Stadium.”
Against the College of Wooster his sophomore year, Ryan hit a two-run homer, the only score of the first half of the doubleheader, and then his brother Aaron hit a home run with Ryan on base to win the second half 2-1. They advanced to the tournament because of the Misslersâ work.
Ryan and his brother Aaron, who graduated in 1996, were the first brothers to play baseball together for the Battling Bishops. College was the first time they took the field together since Little League.
Ryanâs father Mike managed to get all but one of the home run balls hit by them; he wrote down the distance and date for each and hung onto them.
Last summer, Mike, Aaron and many of the teammates were gathered around this collection remembering him at his wake; Ryan died in a car accident August 9 at the age of 38.
In his three years at Ohio Wesleyan, Ryan set the record for most home runs in a season and tied the record for career home runs, along with setting additional records.
Behind these high statistics was an intense drive to play the best possible game, no matter what.
On defense, he occasionally got an error for not completing a play that was nearly impossible to begin with – but he always tried.
âHe made a play…I didnât know how he even got to the ball and then he threw it and it was a short hop that I basically had to do the splits to get it,â Aaron said; it was one of their best plays together.
âWhen he was out here, he was out here for every pitch,â Mike said.
This included a time when Ryan had accidentally been hit in the head during warm ups; former Coach Roger Ingles (now Athletic Director) wanted to bench him for the doubleheader but Ryan insisted on not sitting out since it would have been the first time missing a game.
Ryan took the field, despite having a swollen, bloody left eye – which he needed most as a right-hander – and hit two home runs in one inning. In baseball, even being up to bat twice in an inning is a rare feat.
âThere was nobody as intense as him,â said Eric Heise (â98). âThat was the thing about Ryan. Whether it was on the field, whether it was in the weight room, whether it was playing a video game, studying…he wanted to be the best at whatever it was.â
âThe more he played, the better he got so after he graduated he became twice the player he was in high school, and he was all-Ohio in high school,â said Tim Saunders, Ryan and Aaronâs baseball coach at Dublin Coffman High School.
But while he was a great player, everyone – from his high school and college coaches, teammates and family members – agreed he was a greater person.
âHis statistics speak for themselves, but what they donât say is what a great young man he was and how much he contributed to the baseball program,â said Pat Huber (â62), a leader in the W Association of Athletics alumni.
In 2008, when Ryan was inducted into the OWU Athletics Hall of Fame in his first year of eligibility, he made a list of teammates he thought deserved the same recognition.
âIf there was a Hall of Fame for being a man, he would have been in it,â Mike said. âHe cared about everybody…we were lucky to have him for 38 years.â
In one game, the shortstop was being heckled by the other teamâs fans and it was getting to him; Ryan just went over to him from third base, put his arm around him and then gave the fans âa shit-eating grinâ as Mike put it.
The fans heckled Ryan instead after that, but he could take it easily and dish it back – not too long after that he hit one of his many home runs.
This dedication to his teammates didnât end after graduation – Ryan was one of seven seniors on the baseball team in 1998 and they were a very close group.
âYou could go six months and not talk to him, you call him and tell him you need him and heâd drop everything and leave,â said Thad Reinhard (â98).
âRyan was my strength, my encouragement, my best friend,â said Heather Missler, Ryanâs widow.
âWe shared a love that some go their whole life in search of.â
After graduating, Ryan spent time in the minor leagues with affiliates of the Boston Red Sox and Cincinnati Reds; he got a tryout with the Reds as a pitcher but pushed himself too hard and blew his arm out.
After that he worked alongside Aaron at their fatherâs irrigation company, which has provided services to many of OWUâs athletic fields. He married his wife Heather and they started a family. Heise and Reinhard agreed his competitive intensity – while always positive – mellowed a lot because of them.
âEvery day he was anxious to get home to be with his family,â Mike said.
âOne of my greatest memories was watching the love our boys, Trent and Caden, had for their dad,â Heather said.
âRyan would walk through the door and the boys would light up with joy by just being in his presence. Ryan was a loving father and husband and he’s missed beyond comprehension.â
Ryan still didnât back from a challenge at times, though – Mike said he helped out on a job at Ohio University on Aug. 5 that was as tough as any theyâd ever done, without any complaint.
The day he died, Ryan was playing a round of golf with Aaron, Mike and some friends. He started out badly, but he didnât care a bit.
Eight months later, many of Ryanâs friends and family were gathered at Littick Field once again, as the baseball team held a special ceremony to the man theyâd dedicated their season to.
Coach Tyler Mott organized the event, held April 18, which included remarks from Mike – who thanked the university, saying Ryan had said he was very lucky to attend OWU, and that this was the highest honor a college could receive – and a cookout led by Mike.
The team also officially dedicated the sign that had been in left field all season, retiring the first number in OWU baseball history.
The team then swept Denison University in the doubleheader honoring Ryan, with scores of 6-4 and 11-6.
But while Ryanâs number was retired before those games, it was not his last game at OWU. His last OWU game wasnât in 1998 either.
David Eastman, the announcer and an assistant professor of religion, said Ryan is now forever a part of the Bishopsâ team since no one else will ever wear number seven.
So as long as the Bishops are taking the field, heâll be considered with them in spirit.
While professional baseball just started their season last week, the Ohio Wesleyan baseball team has been playing for more than a month â and playing very well.
They have a 16-7 record, including a streak of 11 consecutive wins that began March 13 and ended April 6.
Last year the team finished 13-26, second to last in the North Coast Athletic Conference (NCAC) West with a 6-13 conference record.
Right now theyâre at the top of the West at 6-2.
âMost of the team is back, and a lot of the same guys we tried out there last year weâre trying out there this year,â said head coach Tyler Mott. âTheyâre a year older, a year bigger, stronger, faster, more experienced and all of that helps.â
âI think our mindset is a little different…especially new things that coach has taught us that have really paid off,â said junior catcher/third baseman Aaron Caputo.
âOur senior leadership has really stepped up, juniors have even stepped up and even the returning sophomores,â said junior outfielder C.J. Tosino. âThe freshmen that have come in have really seen that and fueled off of that and I feel like as a group we really just came together and decided that we want to do big things this year.â
The team started out shaky, going 4-4 in their spring break games in Florida, but they have been dominant ever since with a 23-3 win over Wabash College and a 22-7 game against Heidelberg University.
Now they are about halfway through their full season and a quarter of the way through conference play, which so far has been four sets of doubleheaders against Wabash and DePauw University.
The Bishops swept Wabash in four games on March 29 and 30, and finished 2-2 against DePauw April 11 and 12.
âI think as long as we keep our game plan and just play the game that weâve been playing this whole year…thereâs no way that we canât have a good chance at winning the championship this year,â Tosino said.
Making a run for the championship was a goal of coach Mottâs, according to OWU athleticsâ preview article, but now heâs focused on winning one game at a time.
â(Our NCAC West position) means nothing right now, you really got to just take it one week at a time,â he said.
The team has had to deal with several games postponed due to bad weather, including snow during their scheduled March 24 home game against Wilmington.
Caputo, an Ohio native, hasnât been bothered much by this though.
âEvery time that we donât have a game, we usually end up having a practice,â he said.
â…We take practices just as seriously as games, we try to get as much done as we can and you got to practice like you play.â
The team has three more weeks of regular season play, with upcoming games against Muskingum and Wilmington this week and two doubleheaders against Denison on Saturday and Sunday.
During their April 18 rivalry game, theyâll honor OWU Athletics Hall of Famer Ryan Missler (â98), who died in a car accident last summer.
The 1970s Cincinnati Reds were one of baseballâs great lineups, and versatile star Pete Rose was one of their leaders. Near the end of Roseâs 26 year career in the Majors â when he was a manager not a player â it was revealed that heâd bet money that his team would win; gambling on your own games is the greatest sin of baseball, ever since the Chicago White Sox threw the World Series in 1919.
In 1989, Rose was given a lifetime ban – barring him from entering the Hall of Fame â which remains today; many such bans are commuted but his has not been. Roseâs supporters and opponents alike believe the leagueâs punishment has been more severe because he denied the allegations for more than a decade, finally coming clean in his 2004 memoir.
He remains under the ban, but on March 16 Rob Manfred, the new commissioner of baseball, gave the strongest sign that it may be lifted, saying heâd consider Roseâs repeated request for reinstatement on its merits rather than rejecting it immediately.
To invert the famous question from the 1919 Black Sox scandal: Whyâd you say it wasnât so, Pete? Whyâd you say it wasnât so?
You had it all; thereâs no doubt you were bound for the Hall for your performance as a player. Two World Series rings with the Reds, more than a dozen league records, a spot on the All-Century Team.
When I was playing as a kid, I took on part of your batting style â not as aggressive running the bases, obviously, but my hitting was similar. I went for finesse, rather than power â I could do just as much, if not more, off a well-placed bunt or line drive as anyone could with a hard hit ball to the outfied.
Heck, sometimes when I knew the catcher couldnât hold on to the ball Iâd let them strike me out, just so I could make a run for it and beat the throw to first. You probably did that at one time or another â probably not intentionally of course.
My main idols were more contemporary Reds with that style, such as Ryan Freel, but before that, when my dad was the age I was then, you were winning pennants for the Reds the same way and thatâs what I heard about.
I want to write this column about why you should be allowed in the Hall, why I think itâs hypocritical for the league to keep you out and not give a similar ban for steroid use, why steroid use is actually worse.
But itâs just not that simple. Thereâs no way to spin this as the league going after you and my Reds completely without justification, even after 26 years.
No matter what else has happened since then, you messed up, and then you denied it, and no amount of bravado or tearful apologies will change that. This isnât a David and Goliath, Reds versus establishment, fight. Itâs about what you did â to your legacy, to yourself and to our team.
I canât just rally around you blindly as if you didnât let us all down too. You let the fans down, you let the organization down, you let your teammates down.
You realize that, at least by now â just look at your roast five years ago, when you broke down and admitted what youâd done to everyone else, to the game. But holding it in a casino? Really? How was that a good idea? How have a lot of the things youâve done since then been a good idea?
This may not be completely fair; you showed a lot of signs of gambling addiction back then. But if you had to put down money on the games, you could have retired and then done it the next day. You knew the rules, you knew what you were doing. Whyâd you do it, Pete?
Howâd you get to that point? Howâd the game get here, now?
My brother was a big fan of Sammy Sosa; loved to see him play for the Cubs. Well, Sammy Sosa put cork in his bat and used it against the Devil Rays. Sure, he said he only used the one in a game by accident; that it was meant for batting practice. Sure, all his other bats were clean. But still, corking a bat was just as clearly against the rules. Whyâd you do it, Sammy?
And then there were the steroids. Why, oh, why did that happen, everyone?
In 2005, Jose Canseco said on 60 Minutes that around 80 percent of the players were using performance-enhancing drugs. Scores of stars â including Sosa, Alex Rodriguez, Barry Bonds, Mark McGwire â all got caught using them. None of them have been banned; if they are the Hall of Fame may have a missing gap when no one, or very very few, from my childhood was deemed worthy.
I can rant at you, Pete Rose, all I want, but itâs not just about you; youâre just a stand-in. This is about one of my favorite sports, the ball games I grew up watching.
Baseball was the national game for so long; we reflected the spirit of America. Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig, symbols of resistance in the Great Depression. Jackie Robinson and Satchel Paige and Josh Gibson and so many others, ushering in civil rights.
But somewhere between those glory days and now, we lost all that. ESPN said on March 19 that baseballâs not dead; itâs struggling but has a lot left to hang onto. But all they talked about was the money.
What about the publicâs trust? What about the publicâs interest?
We were the national pastime, and that used to mean something. Somewhere, somehow, we lost all that, and itâs a lot more complex than just one manâs gambling or a whole bunch of men and their steroids.
I still want to see Pete Rose in Cooperstown; I still will watch the games come Opening Day this April, when I can.
But the more I write this the more I realize things just arenât the way they were anymore, when the game I grew up with was so simple and idealistic.
Maybe it never will be again.
Maybe it never was.
It still made for some great memories, though.
Whatever happens to the fate of the sport, or Pete Rose and the Hall, at least weâll all still have that.