VFW State Champions. Click to enlarge.
The recent news (http://www.chattanoogan.com/articles/article_189620.asp) of Tommy McDaniel’s death brought back fond memories of the summer of 1963 and my brief adventures with Tommy and his dad, Allie, and 12 other boys of summer. For in 1963 my amateur baseball career ended twice only to be resurrected by an unlikely chain of events that led to state and regional baseball championships by a Chattanooga team, VFW 4848. “Unlikely” may be an understatement. The story of an American Legion team winning two major championships in Connie Mack baseball tournaments within two weeks in 1963 is probably unprecedented and never to be repeated.
On Thursday May 23, 1963 seven seniors at Central High School – Jimmy Davis, Bobby Etter, Jerry Pace, Dick Phillips, Ron Priddy, Bill Thomas, and I had donned purple for the final time, as Central lost to Tyner 2-0 in the Ninth District baseball tournament at Engel Stadium. Tyner’s superb battery of Johnny Crook and Gene Lively had foiled us once again. We congratulated them and without another thought, prepared for Class Day the following Monday and graduation on Tuesday, May 28. Davis and Etter were going to play baseball in college; for the rest of us this was probably the last time around. I started looking for a summer job & put new mono-filament line on my spinning outfit. It was going to be a long, hot summer.
The first resurrection came via a phone call from Bob Etter. Bob asked if I remembered the VFW 4848 team from Legion ball the previous two summers (of course I did, they beat our high school team like drums both years). He then told me to get my cleats and glove & meet him at Central’s baseball field for some hitting machine time. While we were pounding the predictable fast pitches from the machine, Bob told me that Allie McDaniel, VFW coach, was looking for a few good men to bolster his team, which had a small contingent returning from the previous year. McDaniel already had contacted Etter and Jimmy Davis, both infielders, about joining his American Legion team for the summer, and Etter had recommended that Allie take a look at Jerry Pace, pitcher, and me as an infielder-outfielder. Our saga began.
The American Legion summer league was a bit different than in previous years, in that the local high schools had pitched in with the Connie Mack summer baseball league, leaving only the two local “all-star” teams – Tennessee Plywood, sponsored by East Ridge Post 95, and Allie’s team, VFW 4848. The remainder of the league was composed of teams from the outlying areas – Cleveland, Dunlap, et al. Tennessee Plywood was a composite of Baylor, McCallie, Soddy-Daisy, and City High players while VFW 4848 had aggregated players from Tyner, East Ridge and Central, with two exceptions – infielder Donnie Rogers from Hixson and Allie’s son Tommy, a 1962 Baylor graduate and outfielder. Tyner contributed two pitchers –Gary Hancock and the aforementioned Mr. Crook, a catcher, Lively, and David Millhorn, outfielder. Players on loan from East Ridge High were Eddie Eaves, first base, Charlie Roberts, outfield, Larry Delbrugge, catcher, and Steve Sherlin, lefty pitcher.
The regular season was not so remarkable. We pounded the Clevelands and Dunlaps mercilessly, but lost to arch-rival Tennessee Plywood. And Allie played everyone at various positions, looking for a winning formula. He had particular fun one afternoon at Central High School, whence he had scheduled a tune-up game for the upcoming Legion tournament with Central’s Connie Mack team, and unknown to us, had decided to only pitch Central grads against them. Problem was, only one of us was a pitcher. The real pitcher, Jerry Pace, staked VFW to a 2-0 lead after three innings, then came the surprise when, at the top of the fourth, Allie handed the ball to me. I hadn’t pitched since knothole ball, some six years prior. Then the real embarrassment – Gene Lively asked me how many pitches I had, and I had to think. After a terse, awkward few moments with the home ump staring us down, we agreed upon three – fast ball, curve, and off-speed (palm ball). After my first curve ball attempt, I could see lots of smiling teeth behind Lively’s mask, and after every other pitch I would glance over at Allie – he was enjoying this too much, I thought. It (my curve) wasn’t working very well, apparently. After two innings of struggling – walked two, one hit, but two runs allowed (after trying to run a fastball past Central’s best hitter, Jerry Sloan, with runners on base) - Allie showed compassion by bringing in Jimmy Davis (who had at least pitched in junior high and summer Legion ball) to clean up, and he did, as we won 5-2. My arm and ego were sore for many days thereafter.
As VFW 4848 entered the American Legion district tournament the week of July 18, we had only one regular season loss to Tennessee Plywood, who was undefeated entering tournament play. But we had been inconsistent – pitching, fielding, and batting had all seen droughts – and certainly Plywood was the team to beat. Surprisingly, we beat them early on, but with the double elimination format, we found ourselves playing them again in the finals on Saturday, July 23.
The agony of defeat conquered us twice that day. In the afternoon contest VFW took a 2-0 lead to the fourth inning against Plywood pitcher Wayne Talley, then our pitcher, Gary Hancock, had the bottom fall out and was relieved by Steve Sherlin, who fared as badly. When the dust settled we were down 8-2. VFW continued pecking away at Talley, scoring once in the fifth and three times in the sixth until Mike Levi relieved and closed the door for a 9-6 win. In the night time finale, Plywood jumped to an early lead off Johnny Crook, who had to leave the game with swelling from bee stings suffered earlier that day; then Jerry Pace was roughed up, and after 5 innings Plywood led 5-0 behind Mike Levi. In the sixth inning VFW pulled a stunning reversal by scoring 6 and Pace held Plywood scoreless in the bottom half. After Levi struggled through the top of the seventh but emerged unscathed, VFW was only three outs away from a championship. It wasn’t to be. After Pace retired the first batter, Tommy Giles doubled, Eddie Renfro tripled, Monty Reeves singled, and my baseball career had apparently ended for a second time.
But before we had cleared the dugout, Allie McDaniel called a team meeting and announced that we were going to represent Chattanooga in the Connie Mack state tournament starting on August 3 in Newport.
A Legion team playing in a Connie Mack tournament?? The way this came about is probably a story within itself, but the short version is that the local Connie Mack League could never complete their tournament because of persistent bad weather and finally cancelled it. Rather than have an empty slot at the State tournament, local Connie Mack officials (including one Elbert S. Long who happened to be the VFW 4848 business manager), decided to send the second-place American Legion team as representative for Chattanooga. VFW added one player as allowed for the tournament – burly catcher LeBron Shoemaker of Ooltewah.
So on Thursday, August 1, the four-car VFW caravan, with 15 players and one coach aboard, left Chattanooga and headed northeast to the Carolyn Motel on US 70, 25W, and 411 just west of Newport. One of the vehicles, a van belonging to Coach E B Etter, towed a fishing boat, and had more fishing gear inside than baseball equipment. We were not overconfident. After a practice on Friday morning at the Newport City Park, site of the tournament, four of us headed downstream to Douglas Lake to test our angling skills. We had already made one serious error - we had left a large bucket of redworms in the van overnight and they cooked the next morning. The odor was overwhelming, even to those who already reeked of locker room. So we had to buy some bait, and amazingly, no one in Cocke County seemed to have minnows or worms for sale in early August. After catching a few frogs and crayfish for bait and wasting most of the afternoon, Millhorn, Davis, Etter, and Sedman were shut out – no fish, no bites, and no whoppers to tell back at the motel.
Our baseball fortunes were much better, though we started slowly. In the opening round Saturday morning, VFW struggled with a youthful team from Crossville for nine and a half innings, before Bob Etter stroked a bases loaded, 340-ft single in the bottom of the tenth for a 6-5 win. Steve Sherlin got the win in relief. That evening VFW again struggled with a team from Dyersburg, before Eddie Eaves doubled in the bottom of the seventh to break a 4-4 deadlock. Johnny Crook got the win in relief of Gary Hancock. On Sunday afternoon, VFW won another one run decision, 4-3, over host team Newport, behind a four-hit complete game from Jerry Pace. We were in the winner’s bracket finals.
The other winner’s bracket finalist was a very good team from Bristol, with an ace pitcher from Tennessee High School named Eddie Hill. They were probably the favorites entering the tournament, and they had easily polished off three teams, while VFW had eked by on three consecutive one-run wins. Surprisingly on Monday evening, August 4, VFW jumped all over Bristol’s other pitcher early and often for a 10-4 win. Steve Sherlin started and Crook finished. Leadoff hitter Charlie Roberts was 4-4, number 2 hitter Jimmy Davis was 3-4., and cleanup hitter Gene Lively was 2-4. We had started to roll. On Tuesday, while Bristol was playing and winning two elimination games, some of us went fishing on the Pigeon River just below the baseball park. The fish won again.
On Wednesday, August 7, 1963 we again entered a tournament final undefeated, having to only win once. Bristol started their ace, Eddie Hill, in the first game and staked him to a 4-0 lead after four innings. In the fifth VFW torched Hill for four runs and through seven innings were tied 4-4, outhitting Bristol 11-5. Gary Hancock was relieved by Crook, then Pace, during a five-run collapse in the eighth inning and we fell 9-4. Unfortunately for Bristol their pitching staff was spent, and in the final game VFW rallied from a 1-0 deficit, scoring in the fourth through seventh for an 8-1 rout, ending around 1 AM Thursday. Johnny Crook atoned for his earlier performance that day by retiring the last 20 batters after allowing one run in the first inning. Davis led with three hits while Etter, Lively and Donnie Rogers each had two. Gene Lively was selected the tournament MVP. Sometime later in the early morning hours, Bob Etter was thrown into the Carolyn Motel pool, to the dismay of uninterested occupants awakened by the fracas. It was his 18th birthday.
We were suddenly newsworthy. The following week, the Times ran a feature article by Buck Johnson that chronicled Coach Allie McDaniel’s 14 years of coaching amateur baseball and his first championship, but I didn’t see it for several weeks, as we were already in Columbus, GA for the southeast regional tournament. Later I learned more about Allie McDaniel from that article than I had in practicing, playing, and goofing off with him for the previous two months. He just never talked about himself. And then I started paying more attention. I realized I had never seen him angry or excited, or forlorn, despite the adversities we had faced. There were atrocious umpire calls, a slew of one-run games, bad restaurant food, immature behavior all around, and he never flinched, just smiled and continued on.
The following week on the way to Columbus, GA for the southeastern regional tournament , the caravan made a wrong turn in Bremen, GA and veered off US 27 onto 178 headed toward Anniston, AL. Allie herded us in, and after consulting with a service station attendant, backtracked to US 431, and we had lunch in the metropolis of Wedowee, AL. I don’t know what the population of Wedowee was in 1963, but in 2000 it was still only 818. We got to see a lot of backwoods Alabama on the way, and finally veered back across the Chattahoochee River into Columbus late that afternoon, staying at the venerable Ralston Hotel. We had been asked by Allie to bring along a good set of clothes to Columbus, and I expected that we would have to endure a banquet or two before the tournament began on Wednesday, August 14. And we did. It was during the pre-tournament banquet/meeting at the Ralston that Allie made his most memorable statement (he had made very few statements up ‘til then). The five other teams from Danville, VA, Atlanta, Columbus, Mobile, and Pensacola had been introduced by their coaches with some uninteresting detail, and everyone was getting restless when Allie took the microphone. Allie simply smiled and, gesturing towards us, said, “I’m Allie McDaniel and these are my boys!” I felt like applauding. It was shades of Honest Abe at Gettysburg.
The tournament in Columbus was a bit more nerve-wracking than the one at Newport. Our five rivals were far better than any we had faced before, except perhaps for Tennessee Plywood, who had just lost in the finals of the Tennessee American Legion tournament to Bill Speros of Memphis. [The Memphis team was in process of winning the southeastern regional and would go on to be the national runners-up in 1963 Legion ball.] In particular, Mobile and Pensacola had the fastest pitchers we had faced, and all six teams had slick-fielding infields, strong outfield arms and quality backstops. It was going to be fun.
After a day playing Putt-Putt golf (we hadn’t taken the Etter boat to Columbus) and practicing at some local parks, VFW resumed the nail-biting baseball performances of the previous week, by taking 17 innings to defeat Mobile, AL 2-1 on Wednesday, Aug 14. In a remarkable performance, Jerry Pace relieved Gary Hancock after four innings, and pitched 13 scoreless innings in securing the win, as well as scoring the winning run in the bottom of the 17th on a double by Charlie Roberts. Mobile had outhit VFW 13-6 for the game, but lost.
The following evening saw an epic pitching duel between Johnny Crook of VFW and a right-handed phenom from Pensacola, FL named Don Sutton. Sutton allowed six hits and Crook no-hit the Florida outfit. Donnie Rogers scored the game’s only run on a two-out single by Eddie Eaves. Two games, two one-run decisions; the pattern was set.
In the winner’s bracket final the following day, Steve Sherlin four-hit DeKalb of Atlanta for a 3-2 victory, with the big blows coming from Lively and Davis. VFW was once again in the finals with two games to win one. While we were fishing on the Chattahoochee River Saturday, Mr. Sutton and company were polishing off Danville, Va 3-0 and then DeKalb 4-1. Pensacola had a formidable team. Two of their pitching staff, Sutton and Kenny Wright, would eventually be major-leaguers. Some of us stopped by the park to see the evening game; we couldn’t figure out how we had ever beaten them the first time.
Sunday, Aug 18 marked our seventh day in Columbus. Most of us had never been away from home that long before; we had to wash our underwear and socks in the hotel sinks; I can’t recall how our uniforms were cleaned. We also found out why Allie had asked us to bring a “Sunday best” set of duds to Columbus. We were going to church Sunday morning before the afternoon final against Pensacola and Mr. Sutton. What I have never figured out is how Allie knew we would still be around by Sunday. We drew a lot of attention at the First Baptist Church of Columbus that morning, but not for our singing.
We had a brief bite to eat and then on to Golden Park for the finals. I hadn’t mentioned the parks before, but Golden Park was a genuine professional baseball park that had hosted minor league baseball teams since 1929. Wooden fences (high in left field, short in right) with billboards all around the outfield. It was less than 300 feet down each line and maybe 400 to dead center. Despite being more compact, Golden Park reminded us a bit of Engel Stadium in overall quality – grass infields, deep backstop, & lots of room in foul territory down both lines. The most striking feature was a large building with a plantation-like, two-story porch, just outside the chain link fence bounding right field. Never figured out what it was for. This was in stark contrast to the City Park in Newport, site of our previous week’s fortunes. City Park was a huge field - small grandstand, dirt infield, very little foul territory - surrounded by chain link fence probably 330 plus feet down each line and forever to deep center. All home runs were inside the park jobs. Bob Etter’s 340 foot single that hit the fence in left field was the closest to going out that we saw in Newport.
But Golden Park was equally kind to us. In the first game with Pensacola Don Sutton started and inexplicably walked the first two batters, and was yanked. Probably the first time that had ever happened to him. He seemed addled. But VFW failed to capitalize and despite out-hitting Pensacola 5-2, went to the bottom of the seventh in a 0-0 deadlock. Gary Hancock, who most of us considered our ace, then in a brief lapse, gave up a single and a moon shot that stayed up and away as it went over the right field fence, and we had lost 2-0.
The second game that immediately followed was a repeat of the first encounter with Pensacola –Johnny Crook, the lefty, versus Don Sutton. This time around Sutton was on, but Crook was equal. Pensacola scored once in the first and Sutton cruised, only allowing VFW three hits through the first five innings. In the top of the sixth Jimmy Davis reached first on a rare fielding error and was sacrificed to second. With two outs, Allie inserted Larry Delbrugge as a pinch-hitter. Larry was a backup catcher behind Gene Lively and really hadn’t played that much, especially in crucial situations. But Allie knew something we didn’t, and Delbrugge promptly dropped one of Sutton’s sharp curves into short center field and the game was tied.
Sutton was then relieved by fireballer Kenny Wright who promptly fanned the next batter on three pitches. Allie then pulled another one out of his hat, by inserting Jerry Pace, whom Pensacola had not faced, for the final two innings. So it was flame thrower Wright versus junk dealer Pace for all the marbles. Jerry had the right prescription as Pensacola batters were swinging for the fence and hitting harmless ground balls and pop-ups. The sixth inning was three up and three frustrated batters down. In the top of the seventh Wright faced the top of VFW’s lineup, starting with Charlie Roberts, who he blew away with ease. After firing a fourth straight strike down the middle to Bob Etter, Goodwin tried a fifth which Etter caught cleanly and sent a towering fly ball over the taller left field fence, and for the first time in the finals VFW had a lead.
The last half inning is etched in my memory forever. I was playing right field, and nervous does not begin to describe how I felt. Jerry Pace, however, showed no emotion and continued to nibble at the corners with an assortment of tantalizingly slow pitches. Two batters, two groundouts. The third batter was, I believe, Bobby Hess, who had hits in every other at bat for the tournament. Pace worked to a 3-2 count and threw something indescribable down the middle that couldn’t have been more than 70 miles per hour. The bat cracked with contact. The ball probably traveled 400 feet – 200 feet up and 200 feet down – to Donnie Rogers in short right field. As I ran in behind Rogers, I heard something hit behind me in the front lawn of the aforementioned building outside foul territory. It was the bat that had been thrown in anger by the batter as he ran toward first, symbolic of Pensacola’s frustration. VFW was again the champion. In the process, we had won four one-run decisions, two of them against future major league pitchers.
I remember very little about our trip back to Chattanooga and was barely aware that Allie had some rebuilding to do, as three players – our leadoff batter and center fielder Charlie Roberts, one of our aces, Johnny Crook, and reserve catcher Lebron Shoemaker - were starting fall football practice, and Jerry Pace, our nonpareil relief pitcher, had used up his leave from work. Allie quickly contacted and secured the services of pitchers Mike Levi, Wayne Talley and Eddie Renfro of Tennessee Plywood and Eddie Hill of Bristol. Allie also had requested Mr. Sutton’s services, but the rules apparently only allowed in-state players to be added. Nonetheless, we were going to the Nationals loaded with pitchers.
We headed out to Springfield, Illinois the following week via a five-car caravan, with a stopover in Evansville. But we were to find out quickly that the chemistry was no more. Wayne Talley was roughed up in the Friday afternoon opener, a 6-0 loss to a California team, and Steve Sherlin lost a 2-1 heartbreaker to the host Springfield team the next evening on unearned runs. The magical summer of ‘63 was over and Allie’s Boys would never play together again.
A part of this story was exhumed in 1999 upon the election of Don Sutton to Major League Baseball’s Hall of Fame. Allie was interviewed by the local newpapers for a feature story entitled “The Day we beat Don Sutton”. A year later Allie left us.
I have lost track with many of my teammates from ’63. At least three would go on to play baseball in college – Jimmy Davis at East Tennessee State where he batted over .400 his freshman year and was later an All Ohio Valley Conference infielder – Bob Etter, a three year starter at shortstop for the Georgia Bulldogs, and catcher Gene Lively, who led Carson-Newman to the NAIA national championship in 1965 with an incredible .476 batting average, still a school record. Lively is now a member of the Tennessee Baseball Coaches Hall of Fame, inducted in 2005, for 672 career wins as coach at four high schools, the last two being Ooltewah and Central. The rest of us slipped back into civilian life – Tommy McDaniel & I became engineers - & we never met as group again. David Millhorn made the most successful transition, as he traded his cleats for a microscope, and became a world-renowned genome researcher. Dr. Millhorn, last time I checked, had settled in as Executive VP of UT as well as vice-president of research. I saw Jerry Pace at my 40th Central Class of 1963 reunion – he looked slim and trim. Bob Etter and I still meet occasionally to scare fish and conjure up memories. Dr. Bob is a math professor at Cal State Sacramento, following a pro football career as placekicker with the Falcons and, later, Memphis Southmen. By my count, Bob is only one of three Chattanooga prep footballers to later appear in an NFL Pro Bowl, along with John Hannah and the late Reggie White. Bob is in the Chattanooga Sports Hall of Fame for football, along with his famous Dad, E.B. (for softball, ironically), and brother Gene for baseball. I met briefly with Bob in preparing this article. He stated that this team of 1963 was the best baseball team he ever played for. Ditto for me.
Other than Tommy, and the more publicized folks previously mentioned, the rest of the guys are still around, I presume. And I’ll bet most of them have since coached little league baseball for their kids, as have I. In the next couple of years, with a little luck and good health, I’ll be coaching my grandsons. And more than once I’ll start toward an umpire after a questionable call, then lighten up and smile. After all, I’m still one of Allie’s Boys.
Charlie Sedman
cbsedman@embarqmail.com
Carolyn Motel at Newport, TN. Click to enlarge.