by Matt Musson
Bubba looked over the bats we had and reached down for 34 inch stick of natural ash that was white and unblemished. Then he stepped into the batter’s box and, for the first time all day Bill ‘Bubba' Smith was not smiling.
Bubba knew a walk was better than a hit in this situation, so he crowded the strike zone until it almost disappeared.
It made me wonder if Bubba was trying get hit by the ball.
That's when Cuervo made his second mistake of the inning. And, he really paid for this one.
He tossed a first ball fast ball that was low and outside but, Bubba with his long arms had no problem stepping into it with his unblemished branch.
Crack!
Bubba hit a line drive. It was a line drive unlike any line drive I had ever seen.
That ball just would not fall. It was a power shot that kept going and going. It slid just over the outfield fence by no more than a gnat's whisker and, some freeloader out past center field got a complimentary souvenir.
It was a home run. Bubba and Chopper took their time rounding the bases. And just like that, the Rocks were up 2-0.
Oh boy! Jimmie Cuervo was hopping mad after getting burned for that home run. He threw his glove down and stomped on it. After that, if he could have shot bullets instead of baseballs, I think he would have.
Cuervo started tossing fire like a man possessed. Those next nine pitches were so fast that they actually blurred my vision. With nine strikes in a row, Cuervo put down the next three batters: pop, pop, pop. Then, Cuervo's poor catcher went into the dugout and put his hand into a bucket of ice.
Boney started out in the top of the sixth inning by walking the first Morganton batter. But, he came back and struck out the next two. It looked like he had everything under control.
Unfortunately, the next four batters hit safely. By the time the fifth one flew out to end the side, the Aggies had grabbed the lead 4-2.
The Rocks came to bat in the bottom of the sixth down by two. For the first time Cuervo began to look like he was slowing down. Maybe finishing up the last inning with all those blurring fast balls took something out of him. Whatever it was, he was no longer unhittable.
Max Deal started off our at bat with a nice ground ball single. Then, David Yount took Cuervo to a full count before he blooped a single to left.
David went to first and Max advanced to second. That's when our rally ended. Cuervo threw two strike outs and the fifth batter popped up to the first baseman. We stranded two and got no runs. So, we returned to the field.
The seventh and eighth innings followed with no scoring and no runners even got to second base. So, when the ninth inning came around, we were still trailing 4-2.
The first Aggie up grounded out to the shortstop. The second went down swinging. The third popped out to shallow center field where Gene Abernathy was waiting.
The Aggies went down: one, two, three.
But, they did not have to score. We did.
It was the bottom of the ninth, and we were just three outs away from the end of the season.
Bob Pugh did not have to tell us. We all knew it was do or die time.
Chris Rankin started the inning and when the count went to 3-2, he hit four foul balls in a row. Unfortunately, he popped the fifth one up to the catcher. And, it was one away.
The next batter up was Gene Abernathy. Gene had also played with on the Asheville Blues and knew Shoofly Brown from the old days. So, when Gene got into the batter’s box he suddenly called time and stepped back out.
For a second he danced about waving his hand around his head. I wondered what the heck he was doing. Then, it finally hit me that he was ‘shoeing away flies'.
When Gene finally stepped back into the box, Cuervo sent him a message. Luckily, Gene turned away from that bean ball and took a glancing hit on his left shoulder but he still went down hard. After he got back to his feet, he rubbed that shoulder all the way to first base.
Max Deal followed Gene. Max was the facility manager for the stadium, and I never met anyone who loved baseball more than Max.
Max crowded the plate under the assumption that Cuervo would not bean two batters in a row. But, when an inside fastball almost took his head off; he had to rethink his strategy.
Max stepped back and waited for one across the dish and two pitches later, he got it.
Crack!
The ball shot out from the bat, right down the first base line. We all held our breath. And, damn if that ball did not hit the foul pole and bounce right smack down onto the field.
But, it was fair – and a home run.
The hometown crowd went wild. And Gene and Max made a quick circle, touching them all.
We were tied up once again 4-4.
Cuervo struck out the next two Rock's batters in a row. I missed the first one because Chopper Gaines sent me into the clubhouse for an ace bandage and a fresh pair of socks.
I missed the second one, because I was helping Chopper pull off his cleats.
When they slid off I gasped.
It looked like Chopper was wearing two tone socks. Except, they were not two tone, the feet of his socks were soaked red, with blood!
When Chopper slipped off his sodden socks, I could see that he was bleeding heavily from the front of his feet where his toes used to be.
Damn those Damnkrauts!
Chopper took a towel and wiped them off. Then he found some gauze somewhere. With gauze and an ace bandage he wrapped up those stubby bleeding feet. He covered them up in a fresh pair of white socks and gingerly slid his cleats back on.
“Good as new,” he said with a pained smile.
I don't think the sweat on his forehead was a product of the September heat.
Bob Pugh came out on the mound in the 10th inning just to spell Boney for a bit. That seemed like it might have been a bad decision when the first batter up singled and the second got a walk. The third batter hit a line drive to the short stop who tagged the runner at second for two quick outs. The next batter fouled out, and we got out of the side without any permanent damage.
Unfortunately, the Rocks only got one walk and no hits in the tenth. So, we rolled on into the eleventh.
No one got on base in the eleventh for either team. But, in the twelfth, Ted Yount hit a double. He moved to third on a sacrifice bunt, but that was as far as he got.
The thirteenth came and went with a single and a walk a piece but no runs were scored.
Finally, after Max Deal turned on the lights, we went into the 14th inning still tied at 4-4.
Bob Pugh came back in to start out the fourteenth and give Boney another breather. The first Morganton batter, Hal Harris got on base with a walk. Bob struck out the next batter. Then, Buck McAnulty singled for the Aggies and moved Harris to second.
So, there we were in the top of the 14th inning. Morganton had a man at first and a man at second. That is when everyone present learned something special.
That is when we learned about Official Rule 7.05 (h) paragraph three.
Bob Pugh was on the mound and watching Morganton's Buck McAnulty out of the corner of his eye. Buck had a suicide lead off of first, so Bob wiped some dirt on his left leg signaling a pickoff play to Rock's first baseman, Toby Fellar.
Bob appeared deep in thought. Apparently, he was concentrating exclusively on the next batter. Suddenly, he turned and whipped the ball to Fellar at first.
The Morganton runner dived back to the base just as Fellar slid his glove down to tag him.
Unfortunately, there was no ball in Fellar's glove.
The first baseman never got a firm grip on the sphere. It hit the top of his glove's webbing, but slid out and rolled about five feet beyond the base.
Meanwhile, right fielder Newton Rafer came running up to short stop the play. He was tearing in at full speed just as Fellar realized the ball was behind him. Fellar turned and dived for the ball, just as Rafer arrived.
It was th
e worst hustle crash I have ever seen.
Each player was so focused and trying so hard, they forgot about the other. Rafer was strait up and Fellar hit him low. As they smashed together, the outfielder went flying over the first baseman. He somersaulted and came down flat on his back, out cold!
Feller, the first baseman, took a wicked shot. From across the field I could see his head snap back, as if he had caught a haymaker to the chin. Fellar staggered for a second, but he never went down. Instead, he shook his head and turned to find the ball. But, the baseball was not there on the ground where it had been. When they collided, the outfielder accidentally kicked the white sphere up the foul line towards the backstop. Now it was rolling slowly toward the Aggies' dugout.
The next two seconds seemed to last forever. It was as if we were seeing it in slow motion.
Fellar took off like a shot towards the dugout. He was doing his damndest to intercept that ball. I thought he was going to make it, until he ran over a black practice bat that lay almost hidden in the shadowed grass.
Fellar's right foot hit that slick wooden surface, and he fell forward towards the dugout. He stretched his gloved out as he tumbled but that baseball was just beyond his reach.
That little white pellet continued rolling slowly over the top cement step of the dugout where it hung for a second…
And then dropped down inside.
Umpire Tommy Lantana immediately threw up his hands and stopped play.
****************
Of course there was plenty of confusion as Morganton base runners were running back and forth trying to figure out where they should be. Both managers came running over to Lantana for a ruling. For the Rocks that ruling came down as swift and painful as an executioner's sword.
Naturally the crowd booed and yelled and fussed at the Ump. Bob Pugh argued until he was red in the face and came near to being ejected.
But, what can you do? Lantana was right. It was all there in black and white.
Official Rule 7.05(h) (Paragraph 3):
If, however, the pitched or thrown ball goes through or by the catcher or through the fielder, and remains on the playing field, and is subsequently kicked or deflected into the dugout, stands or other area where the ball is dead, the awarding of bases shall be two bases from position of runners at the time of the pitch or throw.
Umpire Lantana awarded two bases to the batter and two to each base runner. So, the batter went to second. The man at first went to third, and the man on second trotted home to score.
Official Rule 7.05(h) (Paragraph 3) gave Morganton a go ahead run tied up with a bow on top. The Rocks were now trailing 5-4.
Bob Pugh was too angry to pitch. He took himself out of the game and put Boney back in.
Somehow Boney managed to focus and put the next two batters down. But, the damage was done. We were behind 5-4 which left just three outs for a miracle.
***************
Gene Abernathy came up to start the 14th for Granite Falls, and even though he swatted at more imaginary flies, there was no free trip to first base this time. Gene was forced to swing. And although he is a fair hitter, he was no match for Cuervo on this night. Gene struck out on three pitches.
Max Deal was next in the order. Max was batting well over .300 at the time. And he was patient and ready. He watched the first two go by. Then, Max swung, almost ahead of the pitch, and he got hold of a sinker and popped it up to right center field.
I swear, if the wind had been blowing out, Max would have homered. Unfortunately, the breeze was coming in and stopped the ball short. The center fielder caught that would be dinger right at the fence.
So, with two away, Chopper Gaines stepped up with that same short piece of MLB Grade Ash. The last game of the 1951 season would come down to a man with no toes and more heart than anyone I ever knew.
The crowd was on its feet now. Fingers were crossed. We held our collective breath. And, most of all, we hoped and prayed for a miracle.
The entire 1951 season had come down to this duel between the finest pitcher I have ever seen and the greatest hitter in Granite Falls’ history. It had come down to the best verses the best. It had come down to this very moment.
Cuervo took his position on the mound and Chopper stepped into the box. And, it was on.
**************
Once more, Cuervo tried to pitch Chopper outside. But, this time Chopper watched three balls go by. Chop stood like a statue and let Cuervo dig that deep hole. He realized that with a three and oh count, Jimmy would be forced to throw one down the center.
Everyone who attended the game knew it was coming. The fans all knew it. The players all knew it. And of course, Cuervo and Chopper both knew what it would be.
It was the Heat.
It was the blazing fast machine gun bullet right across the center of the plate. And, that pitch was exactly what Chopper Gaines was banking on.
Chopper swung with all the pain and fear and determination a man with wounded feet could muster. And, he nailed that next pitch as it rocketed high across the middle.
The bat cracked and my heart stopped. And I saw that horse hide sphere fly deep into left, just over the fielder's outstretched glove!
It was not a home run. It was a solid hit. But, did that ash limb strike hard enough to get a toeless man on base?
Chopper threw down his weapon and raced off like a three legged mule. He clomped and crashed his way toward first. And, it seemed like he was running in slow motion. Though, the crowd was roaring, I could not hear a sound. And I did not see the fans or the other players. Or, even the left fielder. All I could focus on was Chopper willing his way down the baseline. Running on the balls of toeless feet, each step like a paddle digging into the dirt. It was painful just to watch, but, slowly the distance closed between runner and base. Four paces became two paces became one. And, finally after breathless eons, Chopper Gaines stretched out and tagged that white cotton prize.
Chopper did it! He made it safely to first base. Against the odds. Against the pain. Against the best pitcher I have ever seen.
Then, Chopper and I both realized at the same time, that he had beaten the throw – because there was no through at all. Somehow, the left fielder was still hunting the ball.
It was an extra base hit. So, Chopper Gaines took off for second!
Clomp, clomp, clomp, clomp.
I cringed as he dug those bloodied feet into the base path. But, there was no hesitation in his stride. He just kept pushing with all he had.
By now the fielder found the ball and hurled it from deep left all the way to second base but it was too late. Chopper slid in headfirst to beat the throw.
But, the throw went wild! The adrenalin packed pitch passed way over the second baseman's glove.
Suddenly, Chopper Gaines realized it was a missed ball. So, he pulled himself up and damned if he did not take off for third base!
Once more, Chopper was clomping and digging with edges of his feet. He powered forward like a bulldozer plowing through the dirt. Meanwhile the Aggies’s first baseman and right fielder streaked toward the ball that rolled dead in shallow right.
Chopper never even looked back. He just chugged and clomped. I winced as once more he threw himself into the dust and the ball came flying in above him.
The Aggie third baseman reached up and plucked that orb out of midair. He was like fluid in motion, when he brought it down to tag the runner. But, he was a fraction of a second too late.
Chopper Gaines was safe at third!
It was the gutsiest thing I have ever seen before or since. I knew every step was tearing flesh from his toeless feet, and that he was now wearing a second pair of ‘two toned' socks. I had tears in my eyes when he stood up on third base and brushed the dirt off his shirt and pants.
And, that was the third immortal moment of the 1951 Granite Falls season.
Every fan in the stadium
was on his feet. Men were hugging. Women were crying. Fans were chanting ‘Chopper', ‘Chopper', ‘Chopper'. It was pandemonium!
Bob Pugh came out of the dugout and waved his arms and encouraged the fans to yell even louder.
Finally, Chopper Gaines took off his cap and waved it to the crowd. At that point I knew we were the best bad baseball team in the whole wide world!
**************
Bill Smith came up to bat following Chopper once again. I felt sorry for him as he fought Jimenez Cuervo for the last time that evening.
Bubba fought the good fight. And, he had a good eye. He watched balls go by, and he only swung at the strikes.
He took the count to 3-2 and then fouled off a couple but; he was forced to swing at one of those blurring Cuervo fast balls right down the center. And, Bubba was a fraction of a second too late.
Bubba Smith struck out to end the inning, the game, and the season.
It was all over.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Chapter Twenty – Wrap Up
The Granite Falls professional baseball team, the Granite Falls Graniteers/Granite Rocks finished up 14-96. We lost 33 straight games and 59 of our last 60. But, we did finish the season and we were competitive to the very last pitch and, that counted more than our dismal record.
And, mostly it was a season of ifs.
If the National Guard had not called up so many good players…
If we could have held on to our top talent…
If we had more time to prepare for the start of the season…
If Bubba Smith had gotten one last hit…
If. If. If.
If we had won our last game, the 1899 Cleveland Spiders would have the worst record in baseball, instead of us. But that loss earned us a permanent corner in the cellar of baseball history.
However, we did what we started out to do.
We brought professional baseball to our little town and in spite of long odds and countless setbacks, we never quit. We did finish our one and only season in the Western Carolina League.
There would never be another.
Along the way, something special happened. We became the first professional sports team in the entire South to brake the color barrier. And, although we did not change the world, we did change some people and, that is always the first step.
