I was never for sure why he did it. As a matter of fact, when I saw him the next afternoon before the game I asked him flat out.
His reply was short and sweet and right to the point.
“Marketing, my boy. Marketing.”
Then, Mr. Killian fixed his hat, straightened his mustache, and walked off to glad hand the gathering crowd.
So, I still had no real idea why we became ‘the Rocks' but, I sure did hope it was a change for the better.
It did seem like things were looking up in late May, when Coach Dale signed Bennett (Radio) Jaynes. Radio was a pitcher of some renown in this area, and he started for us as soon as he got unpacked.
On Saturday night we played Lenoir, and Radio Jaynes took the mound for the first time. He pitched like a champion and held Lenoir to just 2 runs in eight innings. Then, in the top of the ninth Radio scored from second on a single by Tank Sullivan, and we had us a tie game 2-2.
Unfortunately, in the bottom of the ninth Radio gave up a double, followed by a single and we lost 3-2 but, ‘The Rocks' had a new name and for sure, a new pitcher.
On May 30th we played the Shelby Farmers close, until their big catcher slammed a three run walk off. We lost 11-8.
We were still losing but they were close games. With a little more luck we could be chalking up W's.
On the following Saturday night, we played the Newton-Conover Twins in a game that lasted so long, before it was over our first baseman Wally Carpenter was pitching against the Twins manager, Eddie Yount. We eventually dropped the decision 17-12, but Shine and I missed those last two innings completely.
In the top of the sixth, Shine and I were sitting in the dugout with the Rocks in the field. That's when Bronco Billy Cross came walking over and asks, “Are you two boys going to play professional baseball?”
We both nodded, so Bronco pulls a half a chaw of tobacco out of his pocket and says, “then, here you go.”
Shine and I were grinning like a couple of speckle faced puppies as we each pulled a big chunk off and started chewing like nobody's business. We knew our way around Double Bubble, and so we were determined to prove we could chew like the big leaguers.
But, it sure did not take long for those grins to spin over. Pretty soon we were as green as the ‘bacca’ juice dribbling down our cheeks.
Sometime in the seventh inning, I remember helping Shine out of the dugout, or maybe he was helping me.
Anyhow, we both managed to stumble or crawl to the faucet coming out of the back corner of the building. And, between splashing down our faces and emptying our stomachs, we had no idea how the game ended up.
After it was all over, our equipment manager, Chopper Gaines, threw us into the back of his old Ford pickup and rode us both home.
I remember distinctly thinking Shine was as pale as the moonlight, stretched out in that pickup bed, between the shovels and rakes and bags of sand.
The next day, he told me I was a brownish green that reminded him of the muddy Catawba River after a spring storm.
So, our first experience with tobacco turned me brown and turned Shine white. Ain't that a hell of a note?
But, one thing is for certain, from that day forward, we stuck to Double Bubble. And, I sure wondered why anyone would chew something that nasty that did not at least come with a baseball card.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Chapter Nine – Building Character
Grandpa Tooley once told me that losing builds character. If that's true, then the Rocks were surely gooder than grits, ‘cause we were losing games, losing players and losing fans.
After that last loss to Newton-Conover, on chew-and-puke night, we even lost our manager, Fred Dale. Fred retired from coaching and moved back to Hickory to go into politics.
Fred was the most successful manager the Rocks ever had. He finished his season 4-8, even though he never got to coach Wheaties because our little Cuban speedster was on the DL for the entire 12 games.
Wally Carpenter, our historic homerun hitting outfielder somehow got talked into taking over the helm. And, on his first game as manager, we had Radio Jaynes on the mound and Wheaties back in the lineup.
We got lots of hits and lots of runs – five in the sixth and six in the seventh. And, Wally won his first game as manager 16-11 over the Marion Marauders. So, Wally Carpenter started out as skipper with a one game winning streak.
Wally's second outing was not as successful. We got beat up by Lincolnton 16-4.
But, then we played Lenoir close. The game with the Red Sox was tied 11-11 through nine innings. Second baseman Buck Rogers was called in to pitch. He walked the leadoff batter in the bottom of the tenth. The runner got to second on a sacrifice bunt and took third when our catcher bobbled the ball.
The next batter grounded one just beyond the first baseman's glove and that was all she wrote. We lost 12-11 in the 10th.
We lost again on the road at Rutherford on June 13th.
Only 300 paying fans showed up when we returned home to play the Rutherford Owls again on Thursday night June 14th.
For nine innings we fought those Owls to a standstill, and, this time it was our chance to come off winners. In the bottom of the tenth, Bill Cross nailed a single. Wheaties took off from second like a shot, and just beat out the throw to the plate.
We poured out of the dugout onto the field and celebrated like it was V-J Day!
Even better, after that game the fellas took off and left four cold Cokecolas in the ice box. So, Shine and I decided to hold ourselves a race before we went home that night.
Now, you never did see anybody who could pop open a cap and chug down a Cokecola faster than Shine did on that hot summer evening. And, he was even faster with the second one. I don't even think he paused to take a breath.
It was a wonder to behold.
I finished my two Cokes and proceeded to beat him like a red headed step child in the burping contest that followed.
So, if I live to be a hundred, I won’t forget that night we were victorious over the Owls on June 15th, 1951. It was our 11th W of the season.
The next day, Saturday June 16th, the world turned upside down. The Rock's second baseman Buck Rogers started on the mound against Shelby, and our top pitcher, Radio Jaynes, came in to pinch hit.
I don't know what Wally Carpenter was thinking, but it almost worked.
Buck kept us close, and we went into the ninth only trailing the Farmers 3-0. Radio led off with a single and Jack Clark followed with a single. We had runners at first and third when the Farmer's hurler served up a wild pitch.
Radio ran home and Jack Clark scampered to second base. From there Jack scored on a single by Dick Bumgarner.
But, it was time to put out the fire and call in the dogs, because that's when our ninth inning rally died, deader than a doornail and we lost our 31st game of the season 3-2.
On June 16th the Granite Rocks were 11 and 31.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Chapter Ten – Surprises
At home on Monday night June 18th, Wheaties, our genuine Cuban short stop accomplished a mighty feat. He hit for the circuit. Wheaties had a single, a double, a triple, and a home run. As a matter of fact, Wheaties drove in 4 runs which was more than the margin of victory in our 11-8 win over the Newton-Conover Twins.
But, after Wheaties stole the show at home, we had to go back on the road. That led to five more losses in a row. As painful as they were personally, they were even harder on attendance, and without paying fans the club began taking drastic measures.
On Sunday, June 24th we got our 13th victory of the season, when Wheaties hit a two-run homer to beat Lenoir 7-5.
And, Radio James was sold to Statesville, NC.
I could not believe it! We were selling our best pitcher on a club that had no pitchers and was starting outfielders on the mound. I was flabbergasted. But, there was an even bigger shock coming.
In early July, Granite Fa
lls sold Jack Clark to Morganton.
That move staggered me. It was like selling the ‘Man of Steel' to Lex Luthor! Why Jack Clark was practically the heart and soul of our team. It was Jack who stole home twice in one game which was the second of the three immortal moments of the 1951 Rocks.
Now Jack Clark was gone forever.
I felt like little Joey Starret at the end of that movie Shane, who goes running out on the prairie shouting, “Shane! Shane! Come back, Shane!”
But, old Shane just keeps riding off into the sunset.
Well, we all knew that things were tight, and we knew that the Club had to make its payroll. But, I think that for me that was the next to lowest moment of the entire 1951 season.
It’s kind of odd, but my lowest moment of the entire season would come just a few of days later.
*************
It was Wednesday, July 4th, and we'd just come back from a three game road trip and would be playing at home that afternoon. I was anxious to get to the stadium early to show Shine a green chameleon lizard that I traded for at the ball park in Rutherford.
Wearing a chameleon on a string, I got to the stadium bright and early, looking for my baseball buddy.
But, I couldn't find Shine anywhere. He was not in the dugout. He was not in the clubhouse, and he was not out on the field playing ‘flies and grounders' with Bubba or Chopper.
Then I finally caught sight of a little colored boy up in the stands, and I figured it was Shine. He was walking back and forth covering each row of the seats. At the end of one row, he would drop down and turn around and walk the next, and every so often he would bend over pick something up.
I decided that I would see if I could sneak up on Shine and scare the daylights out of him with my little green monster. So, I crawled up the far edge of the stadium and ducked down, waiting for him to make his way on over so I could jump out and yell, “Boo!”
Waiting there ready to spring my trap, it finally hit me just what Shine was doing. Shine was going through the stadium row by row looking for peanuts left by fans during our double header four days earlier against Shelby.
Why was Shine picking up four day old peanuts? You would have to be mighty hungry to eat those old stale goobers.
That is when the truth came over and smacked me upside the head like a wet blanket on the 4th of July.
This was Shine's breakfast.
At first I could not believe it. Ole Shine told me every morning of his wonderful country breakfasts. Why just a couple days before he bragged how his Momma had gotten up early and fried a whole mess of catfish in cornmeal. Shine said he had eggs sunny side up, and he dipped fried catfish in the yolk. He had my mouth watering, and I could almost taste that runny yellow egg on the crisp brown fish.
It had all been a fib. I laid there wondering how many other times Shine got here early to eat leftover peanuts before he spun me those wonderful tales of imaginary breakfast feasts.
Careful not to be seen or heard, I slinked off around the back of the Granite Falls Baseball Stadium and ran all the way home.
For me, that was the lowest baseball moment of the entire 1951 season.
*************
About half an hour later, I came running back to the stadium sporting my Roy Rogers lunchbox filled up with two ham and cheese sandwiches and a thermos of ice cold milk. I found Shine in the clubhouse rubbing dirt off the player’s cleats with a stiff brush. Shine was smiling and singing and his little brown hands were brushing back and forth beating ‘eight to the bar.'
I greeted him the same way I did every day.
“Hey Shine. What did you have for breakfast this morning? “
“Bacon and brown gravy,” Shine replied with a smile. “I had bacon and brown gravy on white bread with grits. The bacon was crisp and the gravy was thick and salty with just a hint of sweet. And, I had a big ole bowl of buttered grits with pepper and some toasted bread that Momma made fresh last night.”
He snapped his shine rag.
“It was the best most wonderful thing that ever touched my tongue. Why I'm so full I couldn't eat a bite if pecan pies were a penny, and I was a millionaire!”
“Speaking of eating,” I said. “Did I ever tell you my Grandmother is French?”
“No…” Shine replied, looking a bit confused.
“Well she is,” I stated firmly. “And she was telling me this morning that over in France, French people have a coffee break every morning where they have milk and sandwiches.”
“They have milk for their coffee breaks?” Shine asked.
“That's right,” I said. “And, sandwiches. In fact, the French have a name for their coffee break. She said they call it: Hygomia.”
“Hygomia?” Shine repeated a little skeptically.
“Well they don't speak American in France, Shine. You wouldn't expect them to have an American name for it now would you? ”
"I guess that makes sense,” Shine agreed.
“Anyway… Grandma filled up my Roy Roger lunchbox this morning with sandwiches and milk. I think she's hoping that I will start picking up some of her French ways.”
I lifted up my lunchbox and showed it to him.
“What do you think? You want to have Hygomia with me this morning, Shine?”
“That sounds good to me,” Shine replied. “As long as it's not snails. Someone once told me that French people eat snails.”
“No. It's not snails,” I assured him. “It's ham and cheese sandwiches and milk.”
“Well, in that case,” said Shine, “I would be happy to share Hygomia with you, especially if it would make your Grandmother happy.”
So, together we brushed off a spot at the end of the dugout, and we sat down on the bench and opened up the lunchbox.
Shine took one wax paper wrapped sandwich and I took the other. Then I poured him some milk in the detachable cup and I drank straight from the thermos.
“Save the wax paper,” I suggested. “Later we can take it to the playground behind the school and wax down the slide.”
“Great idea,” Shine agreed. “When we're through, that slide will be slicker than greased lightning.”
In the meantime we sat down and ate our ham and cheese sandwiches and drank our ice cold milk. And together, we began our daily tradition of Hygomia.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Chapter Eleven – From Bad to Worse
By early July, the pillars of our team had been sold, drafted, injured or just plain quit coming to the games. We were having trouble just getting enough players together to field a team.
We recruited any professional or college player we could find. We called anybody cut from any other team in the league. Just about anybody who came to town and said they could play ball was given a shot. We even had prospects that got off the bus, walked over to the Stadium and started in that night's game.
Coach Wally Carpenter said it was as if we had “one team coming, one team going, and one team playing.”
Whenever a player left town, like as not he took his shirt and ball cap with him. By mid-season none of the players had a uniform that matched and we did not have any more to give out. They would just show up in an old high school shirt or maybe dressed for the Mill Leagues and that is what they would play in.
On Saturday, July 7, the Directors of the Western Carolina League met in a hotel in Hickory and voted on the league all-stars. Wally Carpenter was the only player on the Rocks to make the roster.
The all-stars were supposed to play an exhibition game against league leading Morganton on July 16th. But, by the time the all-star game rolled around, Wally was gone as well.
As manager of the Rocks, everyday Wally would get calls from teams all over Carolina looking for players. It was a lot like that old card game Go Fish. People would call Wally and ask “Got any Short Stops?” or “Got any First Basemen?”
Finally, one day Statesville called Wally and asked, “Got any Catchers?”
/> Wally, who was catching for the Rocks as well as managing, said “Sure!”
And Wally Carpenter, who hit that immortal home run on the opening day of the season, proceeded to sell himself to the Statesville Owls. He negotiated a $600 signing bonus and tripled his salary, so I can't say as I blame him. But, it was painful to watch that immortal Graniteer up and leave town.
Wally's record as skipper for the Rocks was 4-32.
******************
On Friday the 13th of July, Robert Pugh was tapped to be the fifth manager for the 1951 season. And, to tell the truth, I wondered why anyone would even take the job. To make matters worse, attendance was so bad that Mr. German arranged with the League for the Rocks to start playing our home games on the road!
That's right. From July 23rd through August 8th, we played our home games at the other guy's stadium. That is because the gate receipts from the away games were much bigger than the receipts we brought in at home, where no one showed up.
But, we still felt like orphans.
Each day we would show up at the Granite Falls clubhouse and board the old yellow bus Mr. German rented from the High School. Day after day we would make our way along the windy blacktops of rural North Carolina hoping for a miracle.
We did play some good stretches during that period. We turned six double plays in one game against Morganton, but we still lost 3-2.
Our usual routine was to stay close for about five innings and then fade in the stretch.
Losing on the road all the time, sure made it hard to keep players.
Wheaties finally asked to be let out his contract. Since he was the highest paid player left on the team, management gladly gave him his walking papers and said, ‘Adios' to our genuine Cuban baseball player. Wheaties moved on to Statesville where he joined Wally Carpenter.
On July 21st we lost 11-2 to the Shelby Farmers. Of course we were tied 2-2 right up to the fifth inning, but then we fell apart.
The Daily Record reported that we had thirteen players in uniform that night. And, I think the only reason we had thirteen was because the reporter counted me in the mix!
By late July we set a new record. We had lost 26 games in a row when we rolled in to Marion on July 26th to take on Marauders at home.