Donald E. Pelotte graduated from Eymard Seminary in the 1960s. A member of the Abenaki tribe, he became the first Native American bishop in the U.S.

Please note that I resisted the temptation to mention the Cleveland baseball team in this comment.

Fast forward to 2016, when the Chicago Cubs won the World Series. That's baseball in a sentence.

Priest: Son, have you been entertaining impure thoughts?
Boy: No, Father. They have been entertaining me.

Wow, these fellows sure don't look happy about it! Except for one fellow in the top row, nary a smile among them (and one small smirk on his right). Are they emulating the big boss in the middle?

No wonder I stopped going to church, though I was not Catholic.

Both seminaries closed in 1965-66.

I'll keep further wise remarks to myself

You don't see a lot of people wearing neckties while playing baseball anymore.

That priest reminds me of Fr. Aylesworth when I was growing up in the land of long ago. He was friendly enough when he wasn't on the clock for the Big Guy. But whoa unto anyone straying from the str8 and narrow. Once my parents with children in tow made the cardinal error of arriving at Mass just as Fr. A was finishing his sermon, which he interrupted to announce to the entire congregation... "Ah Mr. and Mrs. C-, having arrived after the reading of the gospel, I look forward to the pleasure of your company at the next Mass." Mom was so mortified she insisted on going to St. Ambrose in the next town over for almost two months after that. On another occasion he was training some of us kids as altar boys. This being when everything was done in Latin, one of the boys said he didn't think he was smart enough. Fr. A looked at him hard and replied " every half wit and derelict in the Roman Empire could speak Latin fluently. So there is no reason you can't." Once during Mass when the altar boys were supposed to be reciting a lengthy prayer called the Confetior I mangled a couple of words and I can remember like it happened ten seconds ago. Fr. A's head snapped around and he gave me a silent glare clearly intended to turn me into a pillar of salt. He never said a word to me but that look will stay with me until they drop me in the ground.

On the upside Fr. A a very Irish sense of humor and it was said he made the best gin and tonic in town. He died in the 1960s and some said it was Vatican II that did him in. Oddly this photo made me very nostalgic for a world and people now long gone.

What a heartbreaker for Don Bosco. They scored 3 runs in the bottom of the ninth to tie the game, then they lost in the 12th. Oh well, them's the breaks. By the looks of Father there in the center, I suspect there wasn't much chewing, spitting and cussing on the St. Eymard bench.