The Legend of Tink Larson

If you look closely on the front page of Friday's Post Bulletin, you might find a small, simple section titled "Tink Larson returns to coaching this spring." It goes on to say that Larson is the 12th winningest coach in Minnesota High School baseball history with a record of 400-265 and that he will be taking over for Todd Mann, who is also the school's athletic director. There's nothing wrong with the article. It's all factually accurate and fair. But it's grossly incomplete. To compensate for what it lacks, I'll share with you the Legend of Tink Larson. I don't know it all, but I know enough. Here is what I know.

The Legend of Tink Larson started long ago, well before I was ever born. My dad used to relay stories of Tink's greatness on the diamond when he was just a high schooler playing in Kasson. As with any good legend, Tink's began because he was the best at what he did. He dominated the competition. But that's where many great legends end. Tink's is just beginning.

At some point, Larson moved to Waseca and made it his home. He developed their baseball program into what it is today. Yes, he has 400 high school wins under his belt, but that says nothing about the fact that he coached the town's VFW, American Legion and amateur teams too. In the same year. And those are only the ones I know for sure. Think of the time Tink spent at the ball park coaching four teams. Four hundred wins? That's nothing. That's not even the tip of the iceberg. The guy probably has a 1,500 if you count them all up.

With all the time that would take, it's not surprising that Tink adopted the field like a son (by the way, his real son Mike is a major league scout.) He spent countless hours manicuring the outfield, grooming the infield to perfection. There's even a rumor floating around that when his dog died, Tink buried it behind home plate. The dog was aptly named Killebrew.

Somehow, Tink finds time to be everywhere that baseball is. More than once when I was playing baseball at Iowa State, I saw him standing by the dugout during batting practice. He couldn't get there early enough, or stay late enough, for his liking. Any year the Rochester Royals amateur baseball team makes the state tournament and Waseca is eliminated, the Royals use Tink as a "draft pick" just to have him and his experience in the dugout.

But every legend has a truly mystical aspect. Some story that people will hear years down the road and brush off as exaggeration. Tink's mystical story is that to this day, he still plays ball.

I don't know how old Tink is, nor do I want to wager a guess. But he's older than my father, and my dad is 57. Tink doesn't play every day. He's not even a regular substitute. But when his amateur team is short on players, don't expect them to forfeit. Expect Tink Larson at first base. And he's not an easy out at the plate. He might be an old man of 60, but the kid can still hit.

Add all this up, and you get a legend. The Legend of Tink Larson. And it will live on. Through stories told over beers while the lights still illuminate baseball fields in the hours after a game. One of those fields will undoubtedly be the ball park in Waseca. It already has a sign over the entrance that reads, "Tink Larson Field."