Hinds was playing in the winner’s bracket game in the 1999 NJCAA Region 23, Division 2 Tournament in Senatobia, Mississippi, coming off our 10-2 opening round win over the number 1 team in the nation, the Northwest Mississippi Rangers, on their home field.
We were playing our south division arch-rival from Copiah-Lincoln and were in the midst of what we called the Co-Lin Curse, which included an 11 game losing streak to the Wolfpack that originated in an elimination game that got away from us in the same tournament two years earlier at Itawamba Community College in Fulton.
In the current tournament game (1999), we were leading 4-3, batting in the top of the seventh inning, with runners on first and second, with nobody out and our number nine hitter coming to the plate. It was a textbook bunting situation, so I summoned the hitter to strategize and the Co-Lin pitching coach, Pete Young (former Mississippi State and MLB ace hurler) made a trip to the mound to set the defense and pitching plan for the anticipated bunt.
Our nine-hole hitter was not your typical nine-hole hitter. He was Kevin Cronin and he could have hit in any number of spots in the lineup, but he was a perfect fit for this spot because he really complemented what had turned into an explosive offense in our late season run to get into the post-season tournament.
We had won the Region 23 Tournament in 1994 and a district championship the following week to become the first Mississippi team to play in the Division 2 World Series at USA Stadium in Millington, Tennessee and then won the region and district championship to return to the World Series again in 1995. We were also the first Mississippi to ever play in a World Series in 1989 at Grand Junction, Colorado.
Hitting ninth, Kevin got a lot of fastballs to hit and he never complained, like all of the others ones did, at least not to me. He was always productive. He said that batting ninth “was better than batting tenth.” Words of wisdom!
Kevin had been deaf since birth, but through the great education provided by his family, he communicated well and was the master of reading lips. He never let being hearing impaired become a handicap. He could do anything he wanted to do and still does to this day.
I laugh when I remember the times when I would be getting on to him about something and when he didn’t want to hear it, he would just turn his head and look away. Scott Williams and John Paul Weigand, also deaf players who played on Hinds teams in the 1980s would do the same thing. We would just walk around in circles until the messages were delivered.
I told Kevin to bunt the ball down the third base line and move the runners to second and third. He nodded and said “Okay” and then turned to walk back to home plate. Oh, by the way, he was a very good bunter, too.
In the meantime, Coach Young was talking to his infielders about what bunt defense they would use and I’m almost certain that he told his pitcher to “throw a strike” and “let him bunt” to make sure they could get the sure out and then perhaps, they would intentionally walk the next hitter, our red hot lead-off hitter, Shondell Lockridge, with first base open and go for the double play with one out.
As Kevin was walking back to the batter’s box and while he was still hearing impaired, I changed my mind and decided I wanted him to swing and not bunt. And for some reason, I said out loud, “Wait!,” knowing darn well he couldn’t hear me. I don’t even know why I said it, but guess what? He stopped… and turned around and looked right at me.
Master communicator!
I can’t explain why that happened. Maybe it’s because he really didn’t want to bunt and wanted to give me a glance to see if I had changed my mind. I don’t know why he turned around at that exact moment, but he did. And I’m glad he did. I walked in his direction and without making a sound and with my hands cupped around my mouth so no one else could read my lips, I yelled, silently, “Sit on a fastball!”
Nobody heard me, except Kevin.
The pitcher, the defense and the opposing coaches were still expecting a bunt. And just like he was told to do, the pitcher laid a big fat fastball right down the middle of the plate, about belt high. Kevin swung and smashed a fly ball that was traveling with the appropriate launch angle and at a high exit velocity in the direction of the gigantic scoreboard behind the left field fence.
It was just like the final scene in the movie, The Natural. Everything was in slow motion and everybody was anticipating a loud crash as the ball hit the scoreboard, with lights breaking, sparks flying and other special movie effects.
But, ironically, there was only silence. You see, there was big net in front of the scoreboard to protect it in times like these and the only sound it made was “poof!“
Then it got really loud, at least on our side of the field!
The three-run homer put us up 7-3 with just six outs to get, which our ace closer, Clay Overby got easily with his nasty, unhittable slider. (P.S.- it’s the best pitch in baseball. His certainly was).
The curse had been broken. Co-Lin went to an elimination game later that day, lost to Northwest and went back to Wesson later that night. This was a date that would live in infamy for both teams. For us, it was the thrill of victory and a trip to the championship game against Northwest on Sunday afternoon. For them, it was the agony of defeat, sort of like a curse of their own, with the memory of this upset loss….forever in their minds.
We moved on to a rematch with the number 1 team in the country… which we won, 12-10. As Region 23 Champions (for the fourth time) we advanced to the district playoffs in St. Louis, Missouri, which we also won and then headed back to the Division II World Series in Millington for the third time. It would be the fourth World Series for Hinds since 1989, one in Grand Junction and the other three in Millington. We finished fourth in the national tournament that season, doomed by a long rain delay from a chance to play for the national championship.
We even beat the number 1 ranked team in the country 3 times during the post season on our way to that 4th place finish. (Northwest twice in the Region 23 tournament and Kirkwood, Missouri in the Series).
It was the greatest turn around ever! It was magical… improbable, but not impossible (a tee shirt slogan) and it was not supposed to happen.
But, it did happen!
Four lessons learned in ’99: 1) In baseball, the only important game is the one you are playing today. You always get to start with a 0-0 score and you always have a 50/50 chance to win, always; those are not Las Vegas odds, but real life odds… you either can or you can’t, will or you won’t, do or you don’t. 2) Playing the game with a fearless attitude is a scary thing for your opponent. 3) You don’t always have to be heard to communicate effectively. And oh yeah, 4) The universal rule of baseball is always in effect; the team with the most runs wins… always!
Rick Clarke's Diary of a Mad Baseball Coach 