Crystal Krebs is a name you may have never heard. If you ever saw her play, it’s a name you would never forget.

She was inducted into the Colorado Springs Sports Hall of Fame on Oct. 24.

Krebs was simply the most dominant athlete at her level that I ever saw. That’s coming from someone who spent 12 years as a sports information director and another 10 as a sportswriter and copy editor.

In other words, it’s a large sample size.

In the first at bat of her first home game at The University of Colorado at Colorado Springs, the opposing third baseman started moving up the third-base line to protect against a bunt. Coach Scott Peterson, who was in the third base coaching box, was panicked.

“You need to move back,” Peterson told the third baseman. “I swear I won’t have her bunt.”

The girl gave Peterson a sneer before Krebs hit a sizzling line drive that landed just barely in foul territory. The ball had rocketed past the girl’s right ear so fast she had been unable to lift her glove. Stunned, she retreated to the grass behind third base.

Krebs had a career .511 batting average, hit 44 home runs and had 129 RBI in two years with the Mountain Lions. Her 25 home runs in 48 games (.52 per game) in the 2004 season set an NCAA Division II record.

I personally saw most of those 44 home runs.

The field at UCCS had a softball fence 200 feet from home plate and a second for slow-pitch games at 300 feet. Krebs cleared the second fence several times.

But of all the home runs I witnessed, two stand out.

The first was during a game at Regis University. The fence there was about 210 feet out, beyond which stood a majestic, 40-foot-tall tree. Krebs launched a shot that not only hit the uppermost branch of the tree, but was also still in its upward trajectory.

The sports information director at Regis, Jeff Duggan, estimated it would have travelled 400 feet or more had it not hit the branch.

The second memorable homer came in a game at home against Colorado School of Mines. With first base open and the score close, the Orediggers coach signaled his pitcher to intentionally walk Krebs.

The first two pitches went wide for balls one and two. The third was at least two feet off the plate, but proved to be too close. Krebs leaned over at the waist and, with the subtlest flick of her wrist, launched the ball over the right-field fence.

Most girls used a lightweight bat. Crystal had what amounted to an aluminum tree trunk; the type usually reserved for the huge guys in the slow-pitch leagues.

A catcher, Krebs was also an amazing defender. At a tournament near Las Vegas, the Mountain Lions were facing a Division III opponent, St. Leo. With a runner on first, a pitch bounced in front of home plate, ricocheted off her shin guard and rolled about a third of the way up the third-base line. Like most runners would, the girl at first took off for second base.

At these out-of-town tournament games, it’s normal for the crowds to be extremely small and that was the case in this game. So, when Krebs announced, “you’re dead,” everyone at the ballfield heard. She took two shuffling hops, picked up the ball and launched it to second baseman Kara Rainey in a single motion. The ball arrived before the runner could even begin her slide.

Those are the kinds of actions upon which a sports legend is built. Crystal Krebs built a mighty legend.

And we’ll never forget the name.

Crystal Krebs is a name you may have never heard. If you ever saw her play, it’s a name you would never forget.

She was inducted into the Colorado Springs Sports Hall of Fame on Oct. 24.

Krebs was simply the most dominant athlete at her level that I ever saw. That’s coming from someone who spent 12 years as a sports information director and another 10 as a sportswriter and copy editor.

In other words, it’s a large sample size.

In the first at bat of her first home game at The University of Colorado at Colorado Springs, the opposing third baseman started moving up the third-base line to protect against a bunt. Coach Scott Peterson, who was in the third base coaching box, was panicked.

“You need to move back,” Peterson told the third baseman. “I swear I won’t have her bunt.”

The girl gave Peterson a sneer before Krebs hit a sizzling line drive that landed just barely in foul territory. The ball had rocketed past the girl’s right ear so fast she had been unable to lift her glove. Stunned, she retreated to the grass behind third base.

Krebs had a career .511 batting average, hit 44 home runs and had 129 RBI in two years with the Mountain Lions. Her 25 home runs in 48 games (.52 per game) in the 2004 season set an NCAA Division II record.

I personally saw most of those 44 home runs.

The field at UCCS had a softball fence 200 feet from home plate and a second for slow-pitch games at 300 feet. Krebs cleared the second fence several times.

But of all the home runs I witnessed, two stand out.

The first was during a game at Regis University. The fence there was about 210 feet out, beyond which stood a majestic, 40-foot-tall tree. Krebs launched a shot that not only hit the uppermost branch of the tree, but was also still in its upward trajectory.

The sports information director at Regis, Jeff Duggan, estimated it would have travelled 400 feet or more had it not hit the branch.

The second memorable homer came in a game at home against Colorado School of Mines. With first base open and the score close, the Orediggers coach signaled his pitcher to intentionally walk Krebs.

The first two pitches went wide for balls one and two. The third was at least two feet off the plate, but proved to be too close. Krebs leaned over at the waist and, with the subtlest flick of her wrist, launched the ball over the right-field fence.

Most girls used a lightweight bat. Crystal had what amounted to an aluminum tree trunk; the type usually reserved for the huge guys in the slow-pitch leagues.

A catcher, Krebs was also an amazing defender. At a tournament near Las Vegas, the Mountain Lions were facing a Division III opponent, St. Leo. With a runner on first, a pitch bounced in front of home plate, ricocheted off her shin guard and rolled about a third of the way up the third-base line. Like most runners would, the girl at first took off for second base.

At these out-of-town tournament games, it’s normal for the crowds to be extremely small and that was the case in this game. So, when Krebs announced, “you’re dead,” everyone at the ballfield heard. She took two shuffling hops, picked up the ball and launched it to second baseman Kara Rainey in a single motion. The ball arrived before the runner could even begin her slide.

Those are the kinds of actions upon which a sports legend is built. Crystal Krebs built a mighty legend.

And we’ll never forget the name.