Chapter 36 The Championship Game
Carl Perkins had thought long and hard about starting Lenny. He once tried to keep an opponent off-balance by throwing all of his hurlers in one game. He wasn’t sure if anything would work against the Rats, but this would be his strategy.
Carl looked over at his assistant coaches, Johnny and Cyrus.
“Here we go,” he said, turning his attention back to the mound and watching Lenny finish his warm-up pitches.
He looked over his infield. He had Jimmy at first, Clayton at second, Chucky at third, and his ace in the hole, Billy, at short.
Timmy was back in left field, Ryan in center, and Michael in right. Carl watched his catcher, Corky, haul in Lenny’s last warm-up pitch and fire the ball down to second.
Billy took the throw and flipped it to Clayton. Clayton fired the ball to Chucky, who tossed the game ball to Jimmy, who, in turn, handed the ball to his pitcher.
Jimmy smiled at Lenny and said, “Let’s do it.”
Lenny took a deep breath, toed the rubber, and unleashed the game's first pitch. The Rats’ second baseman and lead-off hitter, Silky Sullivan, swung and hit a come-backer right back at Lenny.
The ball banged off Lenny’s glove and trickled toward Billy at short. Billy grabbed the ball with his throwing hand and made a quick throw to first to nip Silky for the first out of the game.
The Johnsonville fans cheered. George stood up and yelled, “Way to go, Billy!” George saw a camera flash just to his right. It was the photographer from the Grand Valley Dispatch, and standing next to him was Willard Smith.
George and Willard exchanged glances. George took off his Tigers’ hat and tipped it toward Willard as if to say, “What do you think of that?”
Bugs McPherson stepped to the plate. The first pitch from Lenny was high and outside. But on the very next pitch, Bugs bounced a high-hopper over the head of Chucky at third. Bugs was off and running and coasted into second with a double.
Billy took the throw-in from Timmy and took a quick look at Bugs.
Bugs was smiling, but his lips were sealed. No sign of any creatures hovering around his cheeks.
Billy tossed the ball to Lenny and returned to his position at short. Lenny got his sign from Corky and threw a change-up to the next batter, Bumper McPherson. Bumper took a mighty cut and drilled a shot up the middle. Billy was quick to react. He moved to his left, dove, and caught the ball on the fly.
Bugs was halfway to third when he stopped, turned, and watched Billy flick the ball to Clayton for the double play.
Bugs threw his helmet down, put his hands on his hips, and walked back to the Green River dugout. Filo Hamilton handed Bugs his catching gear and said, “Bugsy, get your head up. This game is just getting started.”
Billy and Clayton were the last players to reach the Tigers’ dugout. High-fives were in order.
“Way to go out there,” Carl Perkins said. “Great defense. Now let’s see what we can do off this monster.”
Billy grabbed his helmet, searched for his Louisville Slugger, and headed for the on-deck circle.
He knelt and admired what he saw. Boomer didn’t need a pitching mound. He was already tall enough. Billy watched him release his warm-up pitches. The pitches were crisp and hard, and they bolted into Bugs’ mitt, unleashing a sound that could be heard all over the park.
“Look at the size of that kid,” Matthew Calhoun said. “He’s throwing bullets out there. How are we going to get to this guy?”
“They say he’s unhittable...fifteen strikeouts in his last game,” Clancy said. “Two perfect games to his credit. I wouldn’t want to face him!”
Billy stepped to the plate. He had seen Boomer many times in his dreams over the last few months. But this time, it was for real.
Billy planted his right foot. Elbow up. His eyes focused squarely on the pitcher, just like his dad had told him a thousand times.
Boomer’s first pitch sailed over Billy’s head. Billy hit the dirt...his helmet flew off and bounced in front of the plate. The ball banged into the webbing of the backstop. The ball just hung there...stuck in the webbing.
The crowd stood in awe. All eyes were on the ball.
“My goodness, “Claire said. “George, did you see that pitch?”
“I don’t think anybody saw that pitch!”
Billy returned to the batter’s box. He waited for Boomer’s next offering. He eyed Boomer’s release point. The ball was on him in a flash and creased the corner of the plate.
“Strike one,” yelled the umpire.
Billy stepped out of the box and took a deep breath. He checked whether the trademark was facing the right way. He placed the fingers of his left hand over his dad’s branded signature. He held up his right hand, signaling to the home plate umpire for extra time.
Billy stepped back into the box and stared out at Boomer. There was no reason to look for anything but a fastball.
Billy picked up the ball the moment it left Boomer’s fingertips. Billy started his swing. He connected. The ball sizzled past Boomer, bounced over second base, and headed toward center field.
Billy rounded first and came to a halt as he watched Manny Polanco, the Green River center-fielder, scoop up the ball and make a perfect throw to second base.
“That’s my grandson,” George said as he stood up and shook hands with anyone near him.
Billy had just recorded the first hit ever off Boomer McPherson.
Boomer was stunned. Filo called a timeout and quickly jogged out to the pitcher’s mound.
“How did he do that, coach?” Boomer said.
“Boomer, it was just a hit...he got lucky. Settle down and mow these kids down.”
“Okay, coach.” Boomer didn’t believe what had just happened.
But he wasn’t about to let it happen again.
He got his sign from Bugs and rifled a fastball right down the middle to Clayton.
“Strike one...strike two...strike three.”
The home plate umpire’s right arm moved up and down like a pinball. Boomer fanned Clayton, Ryan O’Hara, and Timmy Chow in succession. Billy was left stranded at first, and after one inning of play, the crowd and the players took a breather.
The game was on. Lenny looked like he was pitching uphill when he picked up Corky's sign as the second inning got underway. Boomer was in the batter’s box. His strike zone was as big as a telephone booth.
Lenny figured he wouldn’t have any trouble throwing a strike to Boomer — the strike zone was certainly big enough; the question was, how do you get a pitch past him?
Boomer smacked the first pitch into the Rats’ dugout. The players scattered as the ball careened off the dugout wall and bounced back onto the playing field.
Boomer fouled Lenny’s next pitch into the Tigers’ dugout. Once again, the players scattered as the ball rattled around the dugout floor before stopping next to the water cooler.
“Try to jam him inside,” Carl yelled from the steps of the dugout. “Don’t let him extend his arms.”
Easy for you to say, thought Lenny.
Lenny took another deep breath and tried to do what his coach had asked.
The pitch was inside, but Boomer had no trouble getting around on it. The ball took off like a rocket toward the left side of the infield. Unfortunately for Boomer and the Rats, Billy had timed it perfectly. Billy leaped and snared the ball right out of the air for the first out of the second inning.
Boomer trotted back to the dugout. He threw his hands in the air. “Who is that guy?”
Booker T was next and sent a ball to deep right field, but Michael O’Hara was off at the crack of the bat and made the catch at the warning track for the second out.
That left Ronnie Hamilton, the Rats’ third-sacker, to get something started for Green River. He did get a pitch to his liking, but he, too, flew out. This time, it was Ryan O’Hara hauling in the fly ball, and surprisingly, the Tigers had kept the Rats off the scoreboard for two innings.
Boomer was relentless in the bottom of the inning. He fanned Chucky, Jimmy, and Corky Calhoun. It took just ten pitches. Only one pitch got away from Boomer, and it tore a hole in the backstop, bounced through an opening in the bleachers, and hopped through the snack bar window.
Mildred Robertson was about to hand out a couple of sodas when the ball upended the cups. The first three children in line took the brunt of it. They headed for the bathroom, hoping to address a sticky situation.
By the time the third inning rolled around, the fans were buzzing — especially the Johnsonville fans, who were amazed at how the Tigers had held off the much bigger Green River Rats.
But in the top of the third inning, things quickly changed as Rats’ shortstop Tubs McGraw drilled a shot over the bag at third and scampered into second with an easy double.
Lenny walked the next batter, left fielder Reggie Robertson, on four straight pitches. Carl quickly motioned to Johnny Hayes to have Carlos warm up.
Billy and Clayton joined their coach on the mound and listened attentively as Carl talked to his starting pitcher. “Lenny, you have done just what I’ve asked. But it’s time to bring in Carlos. Let’s see if we can continue to keep them off balance.”
Carl patted Lenny on the back and handed the ball to Carlos.
The Tigers’ reliever finished his tosses and prepared to battle with the Rats’ ninth batter in the lineup, Manny Polanco.
Manny had been told by his coach to “wait him out,” but Carlos threw back-to-back strikes to put the Rats’ batter in the hole, 0-2. Manny was forced to swing on the next pitch. He lunged for the ball and hit a one-hopper to the hole between third and short. Billy back-handed the ball and threw to Clayton for the first out, and the relay by the second-sacker was right on the money to Jimmy for the double play.
George, Claire, and Joan stood and clapped. “What a play,” George said. “But we still need one more out.”
With the go-ahead run at third in the person of Tugs McGraw, Carlos went to work on the Rats’ leadoff hitter, Silky Sullivan.
Silky smashed the first pitch from Carlos toward Billy at short. The ball took a bad hop, but Billy let the ball bounce off his chest. He scooped up the ball and threw a dart to Jimmy for the third out of the inning.
Billy ran off the field. The crowd began to chant: “Billy... Billy...Billy!”
The Tigers' shortstop was starting to make believers out of them all.
In the bottom of the third, Boomer was visibly upset. Things were not going as he had planned. “We should have put these guys away by now,” he yelled at Bumper as the Rats’ first-sacker handed him the ball and returned to his position.
Boomer bore down. He struck out Michael O’Hara on five pitches. He fanned Lenny on three straight pitches. With two outs, Billy stepped in.
A breeze rolled in from the outfield as Boomer toed the rubber. The first pitch was outside. The second pitch was just inside. The third was in the dirt. The fourth offering was just off the outside corner. “Ball four,” yelled the umpire.
Boomer threw down the rosin bag in disgust. First, he allowed him a hit, and now he walks him. The breeze stopped. “What was that breeze all about?” he said out loud.
He made Clayton pay for the walk to Billy. Clayton got caught looking at three straight pitches. The Tigers and the Rats would move on to the fourth inning.
Carl made his next move. He sent Willie, the Tigers’ hardest thrower, to the mound to start the fourth. The Rats were getting a little rattled, and Carl hoped Willie’s fastball would keep them honest.
Willie had his work cut out for him. He was now facing the “Rat Pack!"
Bugs, who had doubled in the first inning, did it again in the fourth, as he slammed an 0-2 pitch from Willie down the right field line and into the corner for another double.
Bumper was next to bat, and he hit a slow roller back to the mound. Willie had no shot at Bugs, so he wheeled and threw to first and nipped the slow-running Bumper by a step-and-a-half.
With Bugs on third and one out, Carl had Willie keep the ball away from Boomer. After walking on four straight pitches, the Rats’ big man trotted to first.
With runners at the corners, Carl hoped the Tigers could get out of the inning. But Booker T would have none of that as he singled up the middle, allowing Bugs to practically walk home with the game's first run.
The Tigers were in trouble. With runners at the corners again.
Willie fired a fastball to the Rats' Ronnie Hamilton. He swung and sent a two-hopper to Clayton at second.
Clayton made his pivot and threw to Billy, who touched second and relayed his throw to first in time to nip Ronnie for another Tigers double play.
But the damage was done. The Rats led 1-0. The Tigers had just nine outs left.
Boomer just wouldn’t let up as he sat down the Tigers in order in the fourth and again in the fifth. Fortunately, so did Willie, as he made his parents, Milton and Elsie, proud by also shutting down the Rats.
In the top of the sixth, Willie had Boomer to contend with to start the inning. Boomer hit Willie’s first pitch high and deep to left field. Timmy ran to the fence, turned, looked up, picked the ball up quickly, and made the catch.
The Chow family stood up and cheered. The Burnsides and the Calhouns, who all had ringside seats on the play, yelled in unison.
The Rats continued to put the pressure on. Booker T. and Ronnie Hamilton followed with back-to-back singles, and once again, the Tigers were in trouble.
Willie needed to get Tubs McGraw. He tried to keep the ball on the outside corner. The first two pitches were high and outside, but Willie came back and nipped the corner on his next two pitches to even out the count.
The next throw was in the dirt to run the count full. Willie was forced to serve up the next pitch, and Tubs waited.
Tubs drilled a sizzling liner right at Billy.
In one fluid motion, Billy caught the ball and unleashed his throw to first. Jimmy applied the tag to double up Ronnie, who had tried unsuccessfully to return to the bag in time.
The first base umpire was right on top of the play. He raised his right arm and yelled, “You’re out!”
The Tigers had survived the top of the sixth without yielding a run, thanks to another double play from Billy.
The Johnsonville Tigers were coming to bat in the bottom of the sixth, needing a run to tie and two runs to win the District Championship.
Boomer McPherson completed his warm-up pitches. He needed three more outs, and the Rats would be District Champions.
He was confident. After all, he’d allowed just one hit and a walk to that pesky lead-off batter. He’d pitched a one-hitter, struck out fifteen batters, and the Rats had the lead, 1-0.
No problem. He would reach back and throw hard, and they would be home free. The championship was in the bag.
The Tigers were at the bottom of their order, the pitcher’s spot.
So it would be up to Willie Turner to get it going.
Willie settled into the batter’s box, and Billy moved into the on-deck circle. The breeze returned, and Billy glanced out toward left field. The branches of the tall oak trees beyond the fence were swirling. A few barely visible low white clouds were moving in over the field, and the lights flickered for a moment...and then came on...as darkness settled in.
“Come on, Willie, you've got to get on,” Milton yelled. Elsie crossed her fingers. The Johnsonville fans began clapping in unison.
The wind picked up. A dust devil swirled like a miniature tornado as it made its way across the infield. Boomer got his sign from Bugs and sent a blazing fastball toward the plate. “Ball one,” roared the umpire as the ball just missed the outside corner of the plate.
Bugs threw the ball back to his brother. Boomer cuffed the ball in his big hands and rubbed his fingers across its red-threaded seams. He looked up at the sky. “What’s with this wind?”
Boomer’s next pitch was high and inside, as Willie barely had time to get out of the batter’s box.
“Ball two,” yelled the umpire.
The wind picked up even more. The fans were forced to hold on to their hats. A hot dog wrapper came to a stop right on home plate. The umpire called time and picked up the wrapper. At the same time, he took the brush from his back pocket and cleaned the plate.
The umpire returned to his position and signaled to Willie to return to the batter’s box. Boomer’s next pitch was again off the mark. This time, the ball sailed over the umpire’s head.
The wind continued. Boomer fired the next pitch. The ball was low as it ripped through the dirt in front of the plate and bounced off Bugs’ chest protector.
Willie was on. The Johnsonville fans roared. Boomer returned to the pitching rubber. Filo Hamilton called time out and rushed out to the mound. Bugs removed his catcher’s mask and trotted out to join the meeting.
“Come on, Boomer,” yelled Filo. “We need just three outs. You’ve done it a hundred times. Strike these guys out, and let’s go home!”
“But coach, this wind, it’s driving me nuts.”
The three of them looked up. The clouds were gone. The wind was gone. The sky had turned black, and they could see hundreds of stars glowing and pulsating.
The players returned to their positions. Billy left the on-deck circle and strolled to the plate. The fans were on their feet.
Billy took his stance. Boomer released the pitch. The ball rocketed into Bugs’ mitt. The impact knocked Bugs down, but he managed to hang onto the ball. He looked up in time to watch the umpire raise his right hand.
Bugs returned the ball to Boomer. “Now we got you!” the Green River catcher said, smiling at Billy and returning to his spot behind the plate.
Boomer toed the rubber. He had just thrown his best pitch of the night, and he was about to give the pesky kid at the plate another.
Billy stepped back in. He touched the barrel of the bat one more time. He remembered what his dad had always said. “Watch the release, son. Pick the ball up early, and good things will happen.”
The fans started chanting again. George, Claire, and Joan were on their feet.
Boomer gripped the baseball. He toed the rubber. He heard his brother yell from behind the plate. “Let her rip!”
Boomer fired. It was the hardest pitch he had ever thrown in his life. The ball zipped toward the plate.
Billy could see the seams of the ball as it left Boomer’s hand. Billy swung.
Billy connected. He got it all. The ball sailed over the head of the Green River shortstop, Tubs McGraw. The ball continued to rise into the dark sky.
Bugs dropped his catcher’s mask, stood on home plate, and watched the flight of the ball. Boomer turned to look, but there was no need. The sound alone had already signaled his fate.
Clancy Burnside stood up. “This ball has a chance!”
“It’s out-a-here.” Matthew Calhoun yelled as he looked straight up, just in time to pick up the flight of the orbiting oval.
The Rats’ left fielder, Reggie Robertson, raced back to the edge of the fence. He looked up and watched the ball sail over the fence and disappear into the oak trees.
Billy took off for first base. The crowd looked up as the fireworks from Nob Hill lit up the horizon. Willie touched home plate as the booming sounds of the fireworks roared through the park.
Billy scampered around third with both hands high in the air. He crossed home plate and was greeted by the rest of the Tigers.
The players raised him onto their shoulders as the Johnsonville fans stood up and cheered.
The Johnsonville Tigers had won the District Title, and Billy had his Victory in more ways than one.
Joan Reynolds frantically searched for the keys to Belle. She was sure her father kept them on the desk in the back room of the Clown’s Den. She finally tried the bottom drawer. There they were.
She glanced at her watch. She had twenty minutes to get to Golden Hills, pick up her parents, and get over to Roscoe’s.
It was her parents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary, and to top it off, it was Saturday, and the New York Yankees were playing the Boston Red Sox on national television.
Joan started up Belle, backed the old jeep out of the carport, pulled out of the driveway, and headed for Golden Hills.
Getting to her parents’ retirement home would take about ten minutes. George and Claire had moved into the place just weeks ago. Joan shook her head as she sped down the highway. Her father had fought the change, but now that he was settled in, he was getting used to the old folks’ lifestyle, as he jokingly called it.
Joan had rented out her house over on Fourth Street and moved into her parents’ place. She planned to turn the home into a bed-and-breakfast. Johnsonville has experienced significant growth over the past decade. The population had doubled, investors had moved in, and new houses were popping up everywhere.
Johnsonville had turned into a resort town.
George and Claire were waiting as Joan pulled Belle into the driveway.
“Why did you bring Belle?” George said as he helped Claire edge her way into the back seat.
“It’s your anniversary,” Joan said. “I didn’t want to leave her out of this. This is a big day. I thought it would be only fitting to include Belle.”
“I guess you’re right,” Claire said. “I’m getting a little old to get in and out of this jeep, but we’d better hurry. I know everybody’s waiting. It’s going to be standing room only down there.”
It was the summer of 1972. Ten years had passed since Billy Ray had turned Johnsonville upside down with that home run of his, and now, Roscoe’s Sports Pub would be jam-packed with Johnsonville baseball fans, all of them hoping to get a chance to see Billy Ray Reynolds play again — only this time they would see him take the field at Yankee Stadium.
Frank O’Hara had gone into business with George and Claire in 1970. They purchased the red brick building at the corner of First Street and Main and made it into Johnsonville’s first sports pub.
It was only fitting that it would be called Roscoe’s.
George had no problem coming up with enough pictures and trophies to decorate every wall.
Joan turned left onto Main Street.
Claire glanced at the new furniture store, which covered an entire block on the north side of the street. “I just can’t get used to it,” Claire said. “Every time I pass by here...our drugstore is gone...the old café is gone. It seems like Billy and Chipper were running in through the front door yesterday, rattling those chimes.”
“Honey, get used to it,” George said. “Besides, we made a little money on that deal. Downtown doesn’t look the same anymore. But it’s a good thing. Johnsonville’s growing, and times are changing. We need to change right along with it."
Joan pulled Belle into the new parking lot adjacent to Roscoe’s and led her parents through the front door. They were greeted with loud cheers.
“Happy anniversary, you two,” Carl Perkins said as he was first to greet the couple.
Johnny Hayes and Cyrus Jones pulled two chairs out from under the long table that was set up, especially for the party-goers.
“I’ve never seen so many old people in one place,” George said jokingly as he and Claire took their seats.
Billy Ray Reynolds sat in the Yankees’ locker room two thousand miles away. He put away the telegram he had just received from his mother and put it in the back pocket of his pinstriped uniform.
The telegram was signed “good luck” by all the gang at Roscoe’s.
He would keep the telegram in his pocket until the final out of today‘s game. It would remind him how so many people had helped him get to Yankee Stadium to fulfill his dream of playing in the major leagues.
It had once been his father’s dream. Then, his. And now, he was just an hour away from taking the field as a member of the New York Yankees.
Billy grabbed his bat and walked down the corridor and into the bright sunlight. He looked up into the clear blue sky, tipped his Yankee hat, and said:
“We’re here, Pop.” Billy felt a slight breeze. He looked out toward the infield and saw a swirling dust devil picking up steam, rolling out to center field, and then disappearing high above the confines of Yankee Stadium.
Author of Billy's Victory
Dan Price
Country landscape photos in Billy's Victory by Amelia
