Many of the young boys who played American Legion baseball for Kenny Page are grandfathers now. Others are nearing their 50th birthdays.

Some of their names might surprise you.

Mark Buhler, who was just named to replace Sandy Praeger in the Kansas Senate, was a Lawrence Legion Hawks outfielder.

Tom Jennings, the guy you see on all those carpet commercials on Sunflower Broadband, pitched for Page. Threw a no-hitter once, too.

Tom Patchen of Patchen Electric was a hurler on Page’s 1962 American Legion state championship team.

Frank Smysor, a Lawrence insurance agent, was an outfielder.

Larry Dillon, an airline pilot who still lives in Lawrence, was a catcher under Page.

Halley Kampschroeder, a Lawrence attorney, was a pupil. So was Mike Browning, a former Lawrence High division principal.

Lee Ice, who runs the city’s youth sports programs, didn’t play for Page, but was a batboy under him. Ice’s late father, Al, succeeded Page as the Legion Hawks coach in 1973.

Bob Stanclift, who runs the city’s adult sports programs, played under Page. So did Dirk Wedd, Lawrence High’s football coach. Wedd was a catcher in the late 60s.

“Kenny was really the first person who taught me how to play the game,” Wedd said. “He really did a great job of teaching baseball the way it was supposed to be played.”

Page, who died Wednesday at the ripe age of 90, coached the Legion Hawks in 1959 and again from 1961 until 1972. During that span, the Hawks went to the state tournament 11 times, winning two state titles, finishing second three times and third four times.

No Lawrence Legion team has captured a state title since Page’s 1964 team.

“He expected a lot out of you,” Wedd said. “He didn’t raise his voice that often, but when he did he was capable of a lot of damage.”

Once, Wedd recalled, the Legion Hawks blew a lead in the ninth inning against Hutchinson and the normally placid Page was peeved.

“I never saw so many batting helmets fly,” Wedd recalled. “I was 16 years old and I was scared for my life.”

Page, who never married, was devoted to coaching baseball and running his gas station and liquor store — both now gone — near the corner of 23rd and Iowa streets.

“Before road games, players and their parents would fill their cars up at Kenny’s station,” Wedd said. “He’d never charge us. The amount of money he spent on Legion baseball was probably astronomical.”

When Page retired from coaching, he spent as much time as he could traveling all over the country to attend — you guessed it — baseball games, both in the major and minor leagues. I would run into him from time to time and he’d tell me where he was headed next, or where he had been. Sometimes we would compare notes.

Page began coaching baseball during World War II, guiding the 55th Artillery Division in the Philippines. After his discharge, Page returned to his native Neodesha in southeast Kansas and coached Ban Johnson ball and semipro teams until 1957 when he moved to Topeka and began coaching Legion ball.

“At first,” Page told me several years ago, “I didn’t think I’d like Legion ball, but once I got into it I liked it better than anything I’d ever done.”

His first Topeka team, featuring a future major league outfielder named Ken Berry, knocked off Lawrence, which had a pretty good player named John Hadl, for the state title in ’57.

Page took over the Legion Hawks in 1959 but moved back to Topeka in 1960. Then in 1961 he came back to Lawrence, coached for 10 straight years, took a sabbatical in 1971, returned in ’72, then turned the program over to Al Ice.

I once asked Page to name the best player he ever had. He wouldn’t do it, but he confessed his fondness for Gary Ray, a catcher on his ’64 state championship team who had to give up baseball because of a heart ailment.

“Gary would have gone all the way to the major leagues,” Page told me, “if it wasn’t for his heart trouble.”

Page probably had some affairs of the heart over the years, but he never walked down the aisle.

“The worst thing I’ve ever done is not get married,” he told me. “But if I’d gotten married I’d never have been able to manage a ball club. My wife wouldn’t have let me.”

In Page’s book, marriage would have been bigamy. He was already wed to baseball.