Toledo players celebrate after beating Pe Ell-Willapa Valley, 4-1, to win the State 2B Baseball Championship on Saturday afternoon at Ed Wheeler Field in Centralia.
Moments before the first pitch of the biggest game of their lives the Toledo Indians burst forth from their dugout in a clamoring mass of unbridled enthusiasm and youthful bliss. Grabbing the five-gallon lid from a bucket of baseballs the team embarked on an impromptu round of long-toss ultimate frisbee on the manicured grass of Wheeler Field in Centralia.
To an outside observer that carefree exhibition may have seemed out of place and ill-advised for a team with a state championship game looming large. That person would be sorely mistaken though. That’s because the 2016 rendition of the Toledo baseball team was, well, unique to say the least, colorful to put it mildly, and comically eccentric to put it perhaps more accurately.
After their 4-1 victory over Pe Ell-Willapa Valley in the state championship on Saturday there was certainly no room to argue with the Indians’ work hard, play hard approach.
“These guys are screwballs and as a coach you can either put the screws on it and say we’ve got to be real strict, or you can just let them go,” said Toledo coach Jeff Davis.
Davis’ preference is obvious after only a short time around his ballclub. “I want them to be loose,” confirmed Davis. “It was all good positive synergy.”
Davis said that he allows his players to express themselves more or less how they see fit. “I allow the backwards hats at practice, so long as they are working,” explained Davis. “But they know which way the bill goes on gameday.”
Toledo’s championship baseball squad with the rare camaraderie even has a special moniker for their raucous ensemble. The call themselves “The Brotherhood”.
To be clear, The Brotherhood was not forged overnight, or even during the rapid fire succession of just one highly successful high school baseball season. Instead, The Brotherhood was formed over many years, dating all the way back to their collective little league days for many of the key cogs to the championship roster.
“We’ve played together since we were very little and most of our parents have been involved for a long time,” explained the always cordial and good natured Wes Kuzminsky as he basked in the championship glow.
Connor “Corndog” Vermilyea was more specific with his praise, calling his father Nate, and Kevin Korpi, father of Toledo shortstop Kolton Korpi, “the best baseball coaches Toledo has ever known.”
“They’ve been pulling us around since we were six,” explained the one they call Corndog. Vermilyea noted that whenever he and his teammates’ youth teams would lose, which wasn’t very often, his dad would gather the squad for a postgame talk and tell them not to sweat the small stuff and to be sure to learn from their mistakes.
“You’ll make that play in the state championship game your senior year,” said Corndog, quoting his father. The younger Vermilyea said he never gave those words much credence until he hoisted the championship trophy overhead on Saturday. “I guess he knew what he was talking about,” noted Corndog.
The Brotherhood bond was even more pronounced for Wes and Jackson Kuzminsky. The real life brothers served as Toledo’s starting battery in the championship game with Wes on the mound for 6 ⅓ innings of work and Jackson donning the tools of ignorance behind the plate.
“We have two people really get us going,” explained Jackson, who his peers call J-Kuz. Jackson pointed his finger at Alex Bacon and Corndog as the two savory named straws that stir the championship team’s drink. J-Kuz noted that his brother and Kolton Korpi usually wound up the butt of the jokes, but he says they are used to the ribbing by now and have grown particularly immune to the onslaught.
Noted drink stirrer, centerfielder Alex Bacon, said the pregame festivities for Toledo manifested themselves in many different iterations depending on the situation. “Sometimes it’s frisbee. Sometimes we just sit in the dugout and crack jokes,” explained Bacon.
Like J-Kuz, Bacon listed Wes Kuzminsky and Korpi as typical targets for the team to playfully bash on. “But they take it so well and dish it right back,” added Bacon, who said the dugout and school bus roast sessions are great for keeping the atmosphere light, and appropriately game-like.
The elder Kuzminsky, Wes, noted though that sometimes the midgame vocal eruptions, especially those emanating from rumbling Mount Corndog, are somewhat out of place. That doesn’t mean that the Indians and their faithful don’t appreciate the levity. “When they would get runners on first and second with no outs Corndog would yell, ‘ULTIMATE!’ just to keep things loose,” noted Wes.
Perhaps the best example of the unorthodox approach utilized by Toledo’s championship baseball players comes from a quick-mart variety vignette from before their penultimate showdown with Pe Ell-Willapa Valley for the 2B title. On that overcast morning Corndog took a mountain bike cruise through the quiet streets of his hometown in order to procure a hot counter burrito and a bottle of mountain dew to stoke the championship fire that burning inside his belly.
When Corndog emerged from the store with a bottle of high octane soda in his grasp a Toledo fan several generations his senior chided him for imbibing in the sugary syrup before such an important game. Quite the contrarian, Corndog was unconvinced by the well-intentioned advice from his Cheesetown elder. As such, instead of putting down the bottle of good ol’ Mountain Dew he went back inside and purchased another bottle, came back outside and then promptly chugged them both, presumably to the incredulous chagrin of the Toledo faithful within eyesight.
Hours later, once Corndog had entered the game to pitch and secured his second consecutive pop-fly out to put a bow on Toledo’s 2B state baseball championship run, it is safe to say there were no longer any doubters or second guessers left in the ranks of Toledo Tribe supporters.
In the heady moments immediately after the Indians clinched their title, while the players writhed in a celebratory dogpile in shallow centerfield, Toledo Mayor Steve Dobosh postulated the most honorable invitation imaginable to the young small town heroes. “I think they’re gonna lead the parade at Cheese Days,” said Dobosh with a grin stretching from one ear to the other.
If that spontaneous parade plan comes to fruition this summer it will surely be a sight to see. Afterall, The Brotherhood of Toledo baseball has already proven that it knows how to entertain the masses with their combination of talent and hijinks. It’s likely that their marching formation will leave a bit to be desired though. But that’s just how The Brotherhood rolls. They like to keep it loose.
