On one clear evening in Anchorage in 1990, the light was sensational. I love dugout scenes. No one is paying attention to me and the candid poses of the players are interesting, especially the positions of several of the players' arms. This was also a great team and even better guys to spend a summer with. We had about six players from Texas. They were the nicest, most respectful guys I've ever coached. It took about half the summer to get them to stop calling me "sir."