September 5, 1945: Cincinnati, OH:
Tom Barrell was feeling quite content. The war had ended; just two days prior, the Japanese had officially surrendered on the deck of the USS Missouri in Tokyo Bay. Harry had returned home a couple of weeks earlier, having been discharged, and immediately rejoined the Boston Minutemen. Since his military service involved playing baseball, he didn't require much "late spring training." Not everyone had the same luxury, but Harry had been an All-Star player and received special treatment. Fred was still in Germany, working on something called "denazification." Tom wasn't entirely sure what it entailed, but he suspected Fred was involved in capturing Nazis. When the war ended, the Nazis scattered like cockroaches when someone switches on a light in a dark room.
As for his nephews, both of them were still serving and likely would be until early 1946. James would probably return to the U.S. before Roger, assisting in bringing back some of the B-29s now that the war was over. Roger was stationed in Hawaii but would eventually complete his service and bring his new wife home.
Tom was quietly grateful that he had avoided military service. Four of Rufus and Alice Barrell's sons were color blind: Joe, Rollie, Dan, and Tom. Joe had passed it on to Deuce, which kept both Tom and his nephew from being drafted. Bobby's bullet wound had also exempted him, although it hadn't affected his ability to hit home runs. He had won the Whitney Award the previous year and seemed likely to win it again. Tom was looking forward to a World Championship Series rematch between his team, the Cannons, and Bobby's team, the Keystones. The Cannons were aiming for a third consecutive championship, a feat that had only been achieved once before, nearly 20 years ago by the New York Stars.
True to his nature, Tom sat quietly, lost in his thoughts, undisturbed by others. He was the starting pitcher for the Cannons' game against the Montreal Saints. Sitting on his stool, he stared at his locker while the clubhouse buzzed with the pre-game activity. This was an important game, as the Cannons held a record of 79-51 and were currently in first place, but the Toronto Wolves, with a record of 76-54, were trailing by just three games. The Saints, with a record of 66-65, were playing better than usual, and Tom didn't want to underestimate them.
Tom Bird, the catcher, briefly stopped by. Catchers were exempt from the rule of not talking to the starting pitcher. They discussed strategy, most of which was obvious to a veteran like Tom: don't give Vic Crawford anything on the inside, and Otis Parker could be lured into chasing high pitches.
After Bird moved on, Tom contemplated retirement. At 37 years old, his once-powerful fastball had lost its velocity due to years of injuries. He envied Deuce, who could still throw with great speed whenever he wanted. Tom relied on his experience and cunning to succeed. He had pitched almost 3000 innings as a professional, 2700 of them in FABL, and he understood how to approach different hitters. The information about Parker was particularly valuable since Tom hadn't faced him before.
Perhaps it was time to step away from the game. After all, he was getting married in October. Marla was unlike any woman Tom had ever known, and he had known quite a few. She had boldly called him a misogynist, a term he hadn't heard before and initially rejected when she explained its meaning.
"What?! I love women!" he had protested.
"Sure, you think you do. But you objectify women and view them only as objects of your desire," she had told him.
"Well, yeah," he had replied, adding, "I'm a red-blooded American male, after all."
She shook her head and went on to explain the flaws in his thinking. Tom didn't entirely agree, but she did make some valid points. Besides, it was somewhat irrelevant now as he was marrying her and would no longer be on the market. "Don't you forget that," she had firmly stated.
Tom looked forward to spending the rest of his life with Marla. They might even have children. Marla was 27 years old, a decade younger than Tom. He had enjoyed being a mentor, in his own way, to both James and Deuce. Both boys had lost their fathers, and Tom had found fulfillment in being there for his nephews, filling the void left by his brothers Joe and Jimmy. All of his siblings had children, even Harry and Betsy. Betsy's husband, Tom Bowens, had also returned from the war and was playing football for the Boston Americans.
Tom went out to warm up, his pitches showing good form. Bird acknowledged this with a nod and a grin.
Soon, they were on the field, and an opera singer emerged to perform the national anthem. The atmosphere in the stadium was electric. The fans were enthusiastic and joyful—the Cannons were in first place, the war was over, and the future seemed promising.
When the game began, Tom retired the leadoff batter, Jake Hughes, with a flyout to the sure-handed Fred Galloway in center field. He followed that up by striking out Pete Wood with a well-placed curveball. Although he struggled a bit against Vic Crawford and issued a walk, Tom regained control and struck out Bill Greene.
As they left the field, Bird remarked, "Hot damn, Tom, you've got some great stuff today!"
In the second inning, Tom walked Ted Brown, which frustrated him, but he quickly recovered and induced Otis Parker to pop out on a high pitch (Tom nodded at Bird after he caught the pop-up). Ben Richardson grounded out to shortstop, ending the inning.
Tom breezed through the third inning, retiring the side in order. In the bottom of the inning, the Cannons' bats came alive, scoring six runs, including a three-run homer by Denny Andrews. Tom contributed with a sacrifice bunt, reveling in the comfort of a six-run lead.
He continued his dominant performance in the fourth inning, retiring the Saints' batters without allowing a hit. He entered the fifth inning with a no-hitter, which was broken up by Ben Richardson with two outs. In the sixth inning, Jake Hughes led off with a single, and later stole second base, much to the frustration of Tom Bird. However, Tom managed to retire Bill Greene on a fly ball to Galloway, ending the modest threat.
By the time Tom took the mound for the seventh inning, the Cannons had built an 8-0 lead. He walked Gordie Perkins, his third walk of the game. With an eight-run lead, Tom wasn't overly concerned, but his frustration grew when Ted Brown hit a triple into the right-center field gap, scoring Perkins and ending Tom's shutout bid. The young Parker came up next, and Tom induced him to hit a fly ball to left field, which wasn't deep enough to bring home Brown. Richardson stepped in, and Tom received the sign from Bird. A fastball was the call.
Glancing over at Brown, who danced off third base, knowing that Denny Andrews wasn't positioned for a throw, Tom initiated his delivery. However, as he drove forward, he felt a pop in his often-injured left leg. The fastball ended up being more of a changeup, and Richardson weakly tapped it to shortstop. Jim Hensley fielded the routine ground ball skillfully and opted to make the smart play at first, retiring Richardson and making the score 8-2.
Bird made his way to the mound, and Tom, hunched over, removed his glove and placed his left hand on the back of his leg.
"It's the damned hamstring," he groaned to Bird.
Bird motioned toward the dugout, and trainer George Gorham hurried out, followed closely by manager Ad Doria.
"Hamstring," Bird informed Gorham. Doria signaled to the bullpen before reaching the mound, and Glenn Payne grabbed his glove, preparing to enter the game.
"It's over," Tom told Doria. The manager frowned but remained silent for a moment. Then he spat at his feet and instructed Gorham, "Take care of him, Doc."
Gorham supported Tom, allowing him to lean on his shoulders as they hobbled toward the dugout. The crowd rose to its feet, and the stadium fell into an eerie silence. Suddenly, Deuce Barrell emerged from the dugout, applauding.
Tom, head hung low, heard his nephew and looked up. As he did, the fans joined in the applause. By the time Tom began descending the steps into the dugout, the entire crowd was giving him a standing ovation.
It was a moment that Tom would always cherish. Later, he told his father that at that very moment, he knew two things: his career was over, and he wouldn't have changed a thing.
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Tom Barrell, 1945
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