Brooks Oosterhout isn’t a household name, but in certain corners of the world—small-town Pacific Northwest baseball circles, a handful of local record stores, and the archives of a defunct indie film festival—he’s something close to a legend.
The garage had a single window that faced a dying apple tree. Brooks kept a glove on a hook by the door. Not for nostalgia. He said it was to remind himself that some things end without closure. brooks oosterhout
And every once in a while, a kid on his team would ask, “Coach Brooks, were you ever really good?” Brooks Oosterhout isn’t a household name, but in