Saturday, June 25, 2005
Sports columnist Aaron McFarling: Mustangs a hit in Martinsville
Aaron McFarling
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MARTINSVILLE -- Two outs. Top of the ninth. Tight game. Hazel Glenn leans forward in her chair, one of two seats marked "Hazel's Place" here at Hooker Field, and mutters to herself.
"Don't take him out," she says, eyeing a meeting on the mound. "Don't take him out."
The huddle breaks, leaving Rowdy Hardy alone on the hill. Glenn cups her mouth with her hands and shouts toward the Martinsville Mustangs pitcher.
"C'mon, Rowdy! We just need one more out!"
She missed this last year. The brooding, the hand-wringing, the first-guessing, the yelling.
The baseball.
And judging by the 1,283 other people crammed in here on a dreary Tuesday night, most of them on their feet and hollering for one more out, the Martinsville Mustangs of the Coastal Plain League are doing just fine at filling the void.
"The city bought a team," Glenn says as she awaits the next pitch. "So here we are."
The stadium sure isn't the draw. Hooker Field is, to put it kindly, a quirky structure built in the shadow of a factory. To put it not so kindly, and probably more accurately, it's a dump.
That's part of the reason the Appalachian League's Martinsville Astros moved to Greeneville, Tenn., after the 2003 season. The Houston Astros wanted a better facility for their rookie-league team.
But it would be hard to find better fans. Martinsville was always among the attendance leaders in the Appalachian League when it hosted the Phillies and Astros. Now, an amateur team owned and operated by the city is being received with similar love.
A crowd of 1,972 showed up June 18 for the Mustangs' second home game. In its first five home games, the team failed to draw at least 1,000 only once.
Glenn's been to all the home games, sometimes taking her granddaughter, other times taking a friend. On this night, she is alone.
"C'mon, Rowdy!" Glenn says as Hardy, nursing a 4-2 Mustangs lead with two runners on, gets ahead 1-2 on Thomasville centerfielder Taylor O'Brien. "Put it in there!"
Stuart's own Nicky Bowers is warming in the bullpen, just in case. Bowers, a Patrick County High School graduate who just finished his junior year at Virginia Tech, is the only local player on the 21-man, all-collegiate roster. Everybody else lives with host families in town.
Nobody gets paid in this 14-team summer league, a fact that sits well with many fans here.
"They gotta love baseball -- they're playing for free," Harold "Peanut" Edwards had said earlier while watching the game with three buddies. "Playing for a hamburger and a hot dog."
They have those here, along with $1.50 draft beers and $4 general admission seats. The zany promotions you're used to seeing at minor-league games are mostly absent, but general manager Doug Gibson says they'll increase as the squad gets its footing.
For now, it's just baseball. A brand of wooden-bat baseball many here think is better than the Appy League.
"Oh, come on!" Glenn screams as a close pitch is ruled a ball, moving the count to 2-2. "OK, deuces are wild!"
What did they do without baseball last year? Well, Lee Hopkins of Axton drove up to Salem to check out some of the old Astros who moved up to the Avalanche. Others drove to Greensboro, or Danville, or anyplace else with a baseball team.
Others just sat around, bored.
"This is pretty much the only thing we have to do," Zach Hager, 19, of Horsepasture had said while leaning against the railing during the early innings.
"Yeah, this is basically it," piped his friend, 18-year-old Wayne Moore of Bassett. "Martinsville's kind of the low end of entertainment."
But don't tell that to Glenn as she watches Hardy prepare for the 2-2 pitch in the top of the ninth.
"Here it is! Here it is! I hope, I hope, I hope ... "
Time out is called.
"Aww, who's calling time?" Glenn growls. "Good grief, ump. You need to know the time? Five minutes to 10. Lord-a-mercy."
After a few seconds, Hardy, a 6-foot-4 lefty from Austin Peay, winds and delivers.
Ball three.
"C'mon!" Glenn yells. "All right, full count! All the way across the board. I'm getting nervous here.
"OK, get him out. Right here. We hope, we hope, we hope ..."
Hardy delivers. This mitt pops. The umpire grunts.
Glenn rises and pumps her fist.
"WOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!"
Enjoy Greeneville, Astros.
No longer are you missed.
