[legendsport]

Our story begins in 1890 when a young man named Rufus Barrell decided to leave his family farm outside the small town of Egypt, located in Effingham County, Georgia. You see, Rufus didn't want to be a farmer - he had bigger dreams. Dreams of being a professional baseball player. His father - the third generation of Barrell to farm in Effingham County - thought his son's dream was a foolish fantasy. But Rufus had a brother named Robert and if Rufus wouldn't follow in his father's footsteps, Robert was more than willing to do so. So Rufus packed a cardboard suitcase with his (extremely limited) wardrobe, and headed for Savannah. Rufus was 16 years old.

Savannah was not only the closest city to Rufus' home, it was also the home of the Syracuse Sycamores, a team in the newly-minted, independent Coastal Association - a baseball league that hoped to develop and eventually sell its locally-born players to the Dixie League, or maybe even one of the three "major" leagues: the Century League, Border Association and the brand-new Peerless League. Like Rufus himself, the Coastal Association had grandiose dreams.

Rufus appeared at the ramshackle wooden structure that the Sycamores called home on an early May morning in 1890, suitcase in hand. He walked around the building and found a door beneath a sign reading "Club Offices" and knocked. No one answered his knock. Or his second, or third knock. But Rufus wasn't easily deterred and walked to the ticket booth where he found a bored young woman seated on a stool.

"Hello, miss, I am hoping you can help me," he said with a small grin.

The young woman frowned a bit and looked him over. "Is that so?" she asked and narrowed her eyes. Rufus thought she had very nice eyes indeed while noticing that she did not speak in the slow, easy tones of a native Georgian.

"Yes, I hope so," he replied and then quickly added, "I'm a ballplayer and am hoping to see the manager so I can show him what I can do."

"That's probably not gonna happen," the young woman replied. Rufus was now sure she wasn't a local.

"Why not? I know this is a brand-new club and will need players. I can play," he said and then after a pause, added "Really, I can."

She still looked skeptical. After a moment she said, "OK, bub, wait here a minute. I'll run back and ask Mr. Reid if he wants to see you."

Rufus smiled and asked, "Is Mr. Reid the manager?"

The young woman had stood up. Now she arched an eyebrow. "Well," she began, "yes, I suppose he is. He's also the owner, the general manager.... and my father." Then she was gone through a door at the back of the booth, disappearing into the darkened interior of the ballpark.

Rufus grinned despite himself. The young woman was pretty - a bit more direct and gruff than he was used to, but he had pegged her as a Yankee and they were... different. Or so he had heard, having never really met one before.

Ten minutes passed, though they seemed to be an eternity to Rufus as he waited. Then the young woman (Miss Reid?) returned with a thin man, wearing a shirt but no jacket, thumbs hooked into his suspenders, with an unlit cigar in his mouth. He flipped the cigar from one side of his mouth to the other and said without introduction, "So you're a ballplayer, huh?"