Remember when

Baseball is a game of dreams. And when you're talking about those playing at lower levels with aspirations of reaching the heights, not many of those dreams come true.

But baseball dreams come in all sizes and shapes. And they're not restricted to those in uniform. That's one of the facets of the sport where fan participation is allowed. And fans tend to embrace favorite players, no matter what level of play is involved.

All that said, West Texas has had plenty of fields of dreams through the years. Odessa was home to numerous minor league teams through the years, but none since the Odessa Dodgers of the Sophomore League in 1959 and 1960. Midland has had a Texas League team since the early 1970s.

Of all the players who took the field in both places, you can count on both hands the number who went on to stellar careers in the majors. Willie Stargell played briefly for the San Angelo Pirates and is the only alumnus of the Sophomore League to be elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame. One of his fellow members of the elite group, Bruce Sutter, pitched for the Midland Cubs. A couple of other possible Hall of Fame candidates who played in Midland include relief pitcher Lee Smith and outfielder Joe Carter.

Odessan Mike Gazella, who played on Odessa's minor league team in 1955 and eventually settled here for a career in television, puts it bluntly: "Down here, very few people that played in our leagues made the major leagues."

But consider another product of those Odessa Dodgers and what baseball brought him. Young Gilbert Vasquez filled a small but vital role for the last teams to play in Odessa. He was the Dodgers shoeshine boy. He'd hike over to American Legion Field from his North Ranchito home to perform his duties. "I was paid something like 50 cents per player per week," he recalled.

But the job had perks. Dodger Dick McLaughlin, a lefty like Vasquez, gave the kid his first baseball glove, which he used for years.

Vasquez grew into a pitcher's role at Odessa High School, then took his act to Odessa College and finally Texas Tech.

He said his early exposure to baseball, literally at ground level, "helped me build my character, knowing what teamwork is."

He still gives credit to his mentors, those who coached him along the way - Bill Herron, J.E. "Coach" Pressly, Carl Beard and Tech's Kal Segrist.

And he remembers what he calls his "little claim to fame." When Tech was playing a doubleheader against the University of Texas, the pitcher who was supposed to start the first game came down sick. So Vasquez was moved into the spot against James Street, better known as the quarterback who had brought UT a national championship. Today he's known as the father of Houston Street, a big league relief pitcher of note. Anyway, Vasquez pitched well, but lost 3-0 because Street hurled a perfect game. "To this day, my wife calls me the perfect loser," he says with a chuckle.

After college, Vasquez had a chance to pursue a pro career, but he and his wife, Adela, already had a daughter and made the decision to come back to Odessa to become teachers. They both rose through the ranks of Ector County Independent School District. Today he's assistant superintendent for human resources, thanks in part to the education that baseball helped him achieve.

Consider others who labored in obscurity as members of the Midland minor league franchise. In 1977, a 24-year-old played 88 games, had one home run and batted .275. After that season, he decided to give up baseball and go to law school. It was a wise decision. Today, he's Scott Boras, the man who helped Alex Rodriguez get the biggest contract in baseball history. He's the agent of the superstars.

And then, when Midland changed affiliations and became the Midland Angels in 1985, a scholarly looking guy who didn't fit the baseball stereotype served as the manager for the first two seasons. Joe Maddon has done all right for himself since, notably as the skipper of last season's Cinderella team, the Tampa Bay Rays.

So in West Texas, like most everywhere else, the definition of a baseball dream team lies with the beholder.