Pain still cuts last Wisconsin baseball team 33 years after program's demise (2024)

Ross Kopfer knows all about facing head on life's unforeseen obstacles.

Decades before he would have to fight for his life in the wake of a tragic car crash, he was forced to make a "leap-of-faith" decision on his life's trajectory before his final year of college.

For Kopfer and his teammates on the final University of Wisconsin baseball team, the program’s abrupt end in the spring of 1991 blindsided them with one of the most decisive crossroads of their lives with little warning. How those players reacted to the university’s decision has come to define the men they’ve become today.

It forced Kopfer, then a starting outfielder, to make an early decision between continuing to follow his big-league dreams or taking a more secure path into the job market.

“I had a lot of communication with professional scouts at the time and there was really a big decision, do I value my University of Wisconsin business degree more after three years or am I going to make this leap-of-faith transfer somewhere to try to attempt a career in baseball. Well, that’s a tough decision for a 20-year-old at the time to make," he said, "and I chose, as much as I had developed, it’s still a long shot to make a professional career.”

The need to make that difficult choice seemed to develop in the blink of an eye.

“Around spring break, we heard on a Monday rumors that the athletic board was having a meeting to discuss dropping some sports due to some financial difficulties within the athletic department and it all happened really quick,” Kopfer said. “There was a meeting, and the next thing you knew they were considering dropping the program.

“Meanwhile, we’re still trying to go to school and go on the road and play baseball games. But obviously that was weighing pretty much on everybody’s mind so it was difficult to concentrate.”

The Wisconsin athletic board’s decision left Kopfer questioning his place at the university.

“Shock comes to mind, and disappointment and betrayal,” said Kopfer, now a managing director at Baird Private Wealth Management in Oconomowoc. “Really, you start questioning, 'Why did I come here?’ and 'If I would’ve known this, I could’ve gone somewhere else.’ So, the loyalties toward the university and who you’re playing for on the front of your uniform comes into question, which certainly isn’t going to help your performance.”

Said outfielder Jason Beier, then a redshirt freshman: “When we first heard the news, I think we were all in a little bit of denial. I was thinking about this earlier, all the stages of grief we probably went through. First it was, 'Ah, it’ll never really happen.' But then it became more and more real as more and more meetings were held and there was nothing (we could do).”

Beier, who currently serves as the interim associate vice president of online learning for the University of Wisconsin Extended Campus, said the players tried their best to help work out a solution to the funding shortfall.

“We had the Dugout Club, who had enough money through their fundraising activities to fund a season for us, to try to find a way to make something work. No one was hearing that," Beier said. "No one was having that. And there was certainly anger, as you can imagine.”

Those funding efforts ultimately proved fruitless, with the Badgers playing their final game May 10, 1991, at Guy Lowman Field near the shore of Lake Mendota.

Wisconsin cutting baseball left players with tough decisions

The university’s decision threw a wrench in the plans of Badgers players who had their eyes on reaching the big leagues.

Kopfer had seen his professional prospects rise during his time with the Badgers, but the decision to end the program before he could compete as a senior required him to explore his options sooner than he had expected.

“I was a three-year starter, and still academics was always going to be No. 1 for me,” Kopfer said, “but I had had a successful three-year career and my junior year, I would say from a baseball maturity and my skill level, I became somebody who was looking at the next level because all of a sudden I had gotten my power stroke back and I had come a long way in those three years to the point where if this keeps progressing this way, professional baseball is a definite possibility."

With one year of baseball eligibility remaining, Kopfer said his older brother had encouraged him to follow in his footsteps by transferring to Minnesota, while a former high school teammate attempted to lure him to play football at Iowa, where he would’ve had two years of eligibility on the gridiron with the Hawkeyes. In the end, he put his education first and completed his bachelor’s degree in finance at Madison.

“It’s unfortunate that I had to make that decision at that time, but that’s what I chose,” Kopfer said.

He was not the only Badgers player left to consider his options, with former teammates echoing the chaos that enveloped the program after it was cut.

Prospects of playing professionally were also at stake for second baseman and leadoff hitter Tom O'Neill, whose junior season ended when he etched his name in Badgers history by recording the team’s final hit.

“I had scouts talking to me about possibly getting drafted and playing and I would’ve stayed at Wisconsin,” O’Neill said. “It was all kind of surreal, if I wasn’t gonna get drafted, ‘Where am I going to go next year?’ Because I wanted to play baseball, not just at a collegiate level, I had plans to go elsewhere, up and beyond.”

O’Neill ended up transferring to Northern Illinois for his final season of eligibility. He was selected by the San Francisco Giants in the 27th round of the 1992 MLB Draft and played four years in the minors.

He maintains Wisconsin cutting baseball stunted his progress.

“Without a doubt,” O’Neill said. “Because there were scouts talking to me the day of the draft, ‘Hey, your name’s on the board, we’re looking to take you,’ and ... without the option of coming back to Wisconsin to play, I think it kind of affected my draft status and the money and all that other stuff.”

For senior pitcher Mark Hamilton, the termination of baseball ended up having less of an impact on his future, but it still left a bad taste in his mouth.

“I was somewhat fortunate in that it all occurred during my senior year,” Hamilton said. “It certainly tarnished and distracted from what should have been a special year, and I left with some bitterness, no doubt.

“I had been dealing with injuries and, though the Texas Rangers had inquired as to my plans, I let it be known that I'd be attending law school the next year and was calling it quits as to any furthering of my baseball career. The experience had soured me on baseball somewhat.”

Could Wisconsin baseball have been a Big Ten contender?

The program also failed to realize its full potential as Wisconsin athletics had a resurgence a few years later.

“We had some talented freshmen on that team that went on to play minor league baseball," said O’Neill, who now runs a landscaping company while also working as a college basketball referee. "Some really good pitchers that moved on to other Division I programs. We probably had, I bet you, 12 guys go to other Division I programs from the team that were successful. At least four or five kids were drafted, at least.”

Kopfer went a step further to say that the improvements of the football and basketball teams only would have benefited Wisconsin baseball players.

“Once Wisconsin turned things around and there was more money, you see it across the board,” Kopfer said. “The facilities went up, it’s easier to recruit. There’s no reason (Wisconsin) couldn’t have competed with the Minnesotas and the Michigans for the best kids in the area and the Midwest.

“Especially with the rise in talent in the state, there wouldn’t have been any excuses or reasons that they couldn’t be in the top half of (the Big Ten) every year. There’s no doubt in my mind.”

Beier stressed that it wasn’t just the Badgers’ talent that made their future bright, it was the bond the team built off the field that made the 1991 team feel special.

“There was a lot of camaraderie on the team, there was lots of joking,” Beier said while singling out Kopfer’s personality in particular. “We had long, long bus rides, and that was when Nintendo Game Boys were a big thing, and (junior outfielder) Tom Vilet and I played head-to-head Tetris for like four hours. So that was fun, and you know we had some important wins, that felt like important wins to us.

“Baseball’s got a lot of downtime ... but there was good camaraderie, there was lots of humor, and there were obviously a lot of heartfelt moments when you go through something like that together.”

A ‘head-scratching’ move wasn’t lost on former Wisconsin baseball players

Some players were thankful for the chance to compete while others lamented the lost opportunity.

Khris Hanson, a freshman pitcher on that final Badgers squad, was able to fulfill his dream and “fortunate enough to be asked to stick around” after walking onto the team, which gave him an appreciation for Wisconsin.

“As far as having been a Badger, and having been a letter winner, and being a member of the W Club and all that, it’s pretty great to be able to say that,” said Hanson, who now works as an employment attorney with Lindner & Marsack in Milwaukee. “I go to Heritage Hall before football games every once in a while. I’m still a Badger fan.”

Baseball's end in Madison didn't deter Hamilton from building a life while maintaining memories.

“Still cherish the experience and the memories,” said Hamilton, a Malibu, California, native who now works in real estate in the San Diego area. “At some point, I made the decision to not let the ending spoil all the positives that came before. After law school, I moved back to Madison and resided there for many years. My daughter was born there. So many good friends there. So much love for the state.

“And the love of baseball returned many years ago, thank goodness. Still very proud to be a Badger.”

For Beier, who had transferred to UW-Whitewater to play baseball before returning to Madison to get a bachelor’s degree, then attending law school in Madison, it isn’t as easy to gloss over the painful memories at his alma mater.

“I’ll be perfectly honest, I have a hard time, I have a very hard time,” he said. “In however many years it’s been, I’ve been to two football games. And the tickets were given to me, I didn’t pay for them. I just recently went to a hockey game, which was fun. I don’t have the same animosity toward the other sports that I do to football, whether that’s rational or not. But it did seem like the revenue situation was as dire as it was because of football. So I have some trouble with it, to be perfectly honest.”

Kopfer doesn’t struggle as much with supporting Badgers sports, but he still can’t wrap his head around how the university has gone so long without resurrecting the baseball program, especially considering the standing Wisconsin alum Bud Selig has in the sport.

“For a university, a Big Ten university, that has the big stage of the Big Ten Network and all these really premiere baseball schools that have entered the conference, when you think of the alma mater of the old MLB commissioner and owner of the Brewers, and you think his school doesn’t have baseball?” Kopfer said. “It really to me is a head-scratcher. I just can’t figure it out for the life of me.”

Wisconsin baseball coach’s final words left an impression

The responsibility of representing the Badgers was something that was instilled in Beier by his coach from the moment he joined the program.

“It meant an awful lot to me to be at a school that, academically, I held in very, very high regard, and I had always wanted to go there,” Beier said. “And to be chosen to represent them in a sport that I loved, it really meant a whole lot to me. It was special, it was a great responsibility and coach (Steve) Land made sure we understood that it was a great responsibility. He wanted us to run hard to first base, be on time and wear our hat right.

“Those were his three big rules, so he taught us a lot about what it meant to represent the school and we all took it very, very seriously.”

Steve Land’s eight seasons leading the Wisconsin baseball team and 21 years as a Division I coach came to an end, but he continued to set an example for his players after the final out. That meant reaching out with a letter less than two weeks after the final game to offer his support, while also reminding Kopfer of his commitments to the Badgers.

“It has been a very difficult spring for all of us,” Land wrote. “The range of emotions has been unbelievable. None of us agrees on the decision to eliminate baseball, or the manner in which it was done. However, we all must move on positively.

“Your coaches will be here all summer to assist you in areas where you need help. You must let us know what we can do.”

The coach closed his letter by showing appreciation for Kopfer’s contributions to the team and hammering home his three rules one more time.

“Thanks for making Wisconsin Baseball better,” Land wrote. "Be on time. Run hard to first base. Wear your hat right."

Even though the crash occurred as the father and son were traveling from Oconomowoc to Mauston for a baseball tournament Kopfer’s son Jacob was set to play in, the crash didn’t end his love of the game or his ability to take adversity in stride.

“The big joke is … (Jacob and I) go to basketball games, football games … he loves the Badgers. And the big joke my wife likes to make is, ‘Oh, maybe he’ll go play baseball at Wisconsin someday,’" Kopfer said about Jacob, now 15. "Well, obviously, unless something changes dramatically that’s off the table, but yeah, of course, I would’ve loved for there to be a program and him to get the opportunity and go up there and go through that.”

Kopfer's desire to see baseball played on the shores of Lake Mendota is just as strong as the last time he donned his Badgers jersey.

“I don’t know if, given my situation, I could play in an old-timers game,” Kopfer said, “but I would certainly do whatever I could to make sure they came back and came back to a very competitive level, whether it’s financial or in-person support. I’m still a homer at heart and still care about the University of Wisconsin and (I’m) just looking for the best for them and would do whatever I could to support them.”

And for Beier, who landed on the Wisconsin baseball team after playing multiple sports at Kettle Moraine High School, nothing can erase the magical memories of taking the field in Madison.

“I remember playing fall ball,” Beier said, “and remember looking at the leaves changing and looking over the center field fence and seeing the Capitol and I thought, ‘Wow, life ain’t bad here.’”

The university remains the only Big Ten Conference school without a baseball program, with athletic director Chris McIntosh doubling down on the decision in April 2023, saying that the university is focusing on “maximizing the opportunity, both in terms of participation and the student-athlete opportunity for the 23 sports we have.”

With almost no chance of baseball returning any time soon to the shore of Lake Mendota, the site of that final game has been left to decay into a forgotten eyesore between the Wisconsin softball team’s current home and the university’s Lakeshore Preserve.

The well-manicured lakefront greenspace that rings the Wisconsin baseball team’s former home includes a quote from celebrated environmentalist Rachel Carson that speaks as much to the power of sports as it does to the preservation of natural landscapes:

“If facts are the seeds that later produce knowledge and wisdom, then the emotions and impressions of the senses are the fertile soil in which the seeds must grow.”

The former Wisconsin baseball players will have to keep seeding new ground to ensure the game they love stays alive for generations to come.