State

Tar Heel Memories By Bill Kirkland Hero For A Lifetime Eddie Neville, the winningest pitcher in Durham Bulls history, forever won the heart of an 8-year-old fan in 1949 while on the way to a memorable 25-win season. Ii was ihe summer of 19*19, and my favorite ballpark was full of the sights and sounds of a young Durham Bulls team struggling to finish in the first division of the Caroli¬ na League. I was only 8 years old at the time, but I cheered along with my father and his friends as we sat on the top row of the right field bleachers. I had seen my first Durham game in 19-17, and I rejoiced in watching a port¬ ly old outfielder slug the ball to all cor¬ ners of Durham Athletic Park. His name was Willie Duke, the team’s player-man¬ ager who, despite a squat physique that earned him the nickname “Wee Willie," happened to Ik* one of the best hitters the league has ever seen. I had other favorites as well, including Cecil Turkey” Tyson, who played base¬ ball to escape farm life in Elm City, and John "Mickey” McPaddcn. a pitcher from Brooklyn who had been discovered by Willie Duke when McPaddcn barn¬ stormed through Durham with the bearded House of David team. It would be two years later that I would discover my ultimate baseball hero in Eddie Neville, a left-handed pitcher from Baltimore whose 25 wins in 1919 accounted for more than one-third of the Bulls' victories. At 5-10 and 170 pounds. Neville was just a little guy swallowed up by a loose- fitting flannel uniform, a bantam roost¬ er with oversized legs and a torso that appeared abbreviated once he hitched up his pants and headed for the mound. His fastball was slow but his mind was quick, and he used a knuckleball, pin¬ point control and a variety of speeds to rein in sluggers such as I.eo “Muscle” Shoals of Reidsville, Emo Showfcly of Пихпл,»* Bill K>r«bo0 Greensboro and Woody Fair of Danville. Neville quickly turned Durham Ath¬ letic Park (which will Ik* replaced next year by a larger new stadium) into a house of outs as he took advantage of the distant left and center field fences and tamed left-handed hitters hoping to clear the much-shorter barrier in right. The Durham fins loved his gutsy style. Maude “Ma" Gregory baked him cakes. Bush Thompson, whose trademarks were a well-worn hat and a missing fin¬ ger. In-Mowed louder than ever. Worth "Leather Lungs" Whitfield contributed to the cause by bailing the umpires. Neville's contract was sold by the Bulls to the Detroit Tigers at the end of the 1949 season, and — when I could steal enough time away from my Joe Palooka comic books — I wrote him a letter ask¬ ing for his autograph. The left-hander responded by sending an autographed baseball from the Bar¬ tow, Florida, training camp of the Tole¬ do Mud Hens, like Durham at the lime a Tigers' farm club. That gesture, along with my first letter and a second note of thanks, would bind the two of us for the rest of his life. Neville returned to Durham in 1952. He was back in В baseball after rising as high as Triple A, and lie knew then that the major leagues were an unreachable goal. He would remain with the Bulls three more seasons, adding 50 victories and becoming the chib’s all- time winning pitcher. Although he continued to be my hero, he took a back seat in one of the most important games of his career. It was on a June night in 1952 that he faced Burlington-Graham's “Rocket” Ron Necciai. who continues to be the only man in the history of pro¬ fessional baseball to strike out 27 batters in nine innings. More importantly — at least to nu — that was also the night my father squared off against two other Durham citizens in a cow- milking contest before the game. A crowd of 4,435 saw my father come in a distant third (ho claimed the cow was dry) and Neville fell to Necciai. 3-2. On the final day of the season, the left-hander redeemed himself by pitching an 18-inning 1-0 shutout over Greensboro's Patri¬ ots in one of the most memorable games in Carolina league history. After doubling with one out in the 18th, he scored the winning run on a two-out single by I lowie Hcnklc. who was a bar- 1m*i in the off-season and continues to ti ini hair at the Sanitary* Barber Shop in Cherry villc. Neville remained in Durham after his retirement from baseball and eventual¬ ly discovered a second career as a buyer at Duke University. He became an avid golfer, and I recall seeing him several times on the fairways of Hillandalc Goll Course. The autographed baseball he gave me even tuallydisapiK-ared. and I .sometimes Eddie Neville's 25 uins accounted for more than one-third of the Durham Bulls' victories in 1949. The State/July 1993 35