Vida Blue stared him down and was eager to end this game. Campaneris, Rudi and Reggie Jackson were slated to go to the plate at the top of the 22nd inning, but he had to get this freckle faced phenom out, and finish the inning. Kevin was not about to be intimidated and he stepped out of the batters box and started pulling out some nose hairs to try and unnerve his opponent.
.
Tuesday
August 4th 1970
Fourteen-year-old Kevin Gallivan had been sleeping peacefully, when suddenly,,, there was a loud crash!
He woke up startled and
thought to himself, (‘must be that stupid paperboy John Almada’). He ran outside and sure enough it was, and he
shook his fist at John who rode away throwing papers erratically all the way down
the street.
"Oh well, my day is ruined ... waking up at this atrocious hour on my summer vacation. I guess I'll stay up
and read the paper.” He immediately turned to the sports page. “I wonder how did my Senators did? Hmmm. lost again
6-2. FRANK HOWARD HITS TWO HOME RUNS TO
NO AVAIL read the headline.
As
it turns out the Washington Senators would soon change their name, but not
their hapless last place status. Frank Howard went on to hit 44 homeruns and drive
in 126 runs that year and had a career high slugging percentage of .519 along with 132 walks, yet they only managed 70-92 and another year in their well-worn, last
place standing.
He flipped the page, and something caught his
eye, "KANSAS CITY ROYALS HOLD TRYOUT AT COLTS PARK IN HARTFORD TODAY."
Everyone welcome to attend.
"This is cool," he said
aloud to his mom. "I'm going to try out for a professional baseball
team."
"But Kevin dear, you stink at
baseball."
"I know, but maybe I'll get a lucky
break. Think positive and you are what you eat."
"What do you mean by a lucky
break," his mom asked skeptically.
"You know, like the way a Hollywood
producer discovered Jane Russell in a bookstore."
"I'll make you a sandwich," she
said tuning him out. She needed to figure out if she should go to the store, or
just stay home and make meatloaf.
Kevin grabbed his best glove and rode his bike to Colts Park. Thousands were there for this unprecedented opportunity and sadly he felt his energy drain at the size of the crowd, and then he remembered. BE POSITIVE !
After a dizzying sign up procedure, he
heard a scout loudly proclaim. "Okay, half of you take the field and the
other half I want up to bat." Kevin trotted to the infield behind the
pitchers mound and the scout pointed to him and said "YOU! Pitch!"
Kevin said sheepishly. "Uh me……
duh"
"Yes YOU, you ninny" Kevin put three balls in his glove and stood on the mound. He faced down the batter in a pose he had been practicing; the ball in his hand behind his back arching his eyebrows in a menacing stare.
He hoped he could reach the plate.
Surprisingly the first batter missed every swing
and then a giant muscle freak strode ahead of the others and stood in the box, "You better duck twinkie, I’m aiming right for your head".
"Let him hit it" coach Eddie
Stankey joked to Kevin. He was ready to get a real pitcher up there and wanted
"Home Run Wagner" to crack one out of the park. "Go easy on him junior, and let him hit
it." People laughed because in their cigar butt minds Kevin was a scrawny
pretzel-headed kid who needed to go home.
Kev lobbed in the first one in and the wind was
heard almost to second base. He swung
hard only to miss again, and then a third time.
"He's got a knuckleball … or somethin", Home Run said, “he’s
cheatin.”
"Poser" Kevin said
confidently. One of the coaches cocked
an eye sideways and began to watch him to scan if this misfit had some secret to reveal. The next batter chewed gum intently and that drove
Kevin insane. 'god I hate that' he thought to himself.' He visualized a hole in
the bat and wiped his finger in the compartment behind his belt. Three more
pitches and three misses. The outfielders started getting bored and began
loudly talking to each other. “Come on, we getting’ rigor mortis standin’ out
heah.”
"Get someone up here who can
hit!" said the batting coach waving his clipboard.
Another hulking beast, barely human,
carried two huge bats and he was swinging them in wild arcs as he walked to the
plate. The batters deadly gaze almost made Kevin nervous. and Mr. Hulk
said aloud to everyone. "I hit 65 homers in 26 professional softball
games." He tapped his cleats lightly and locked into position. Kevin gave
him his "are you quite ready?" look and went into a windup and the pitch slid low and the batter stood still.
The pitching coach said, "IF IT'S IN
THE STRIKE ZONE. SWING! We don't have time for this, we need some hitting to
get this going!"" The crowd grew quiet as five pitches in a row missed
the bat.
The next batter went into his Ernie Banks
stance and prepared to hit. Kevin struck him out too. Everyone started to
notice and gather around "He's dumb looking, but he's got something."
"He's a doggy face all right, but he
seems like a nice kid.” He struck out
the next 10 batters and they pulled him off the mound. The scouts had a
conference behind the backstop.
"Say. We could use him in the big game
tonight" noted Frank Malzone former Red Sox great, now scouting for the
Royals.
"He would give us an edge going
against Vida Blue and those Athletics," the others agreed.
"Right" Eddie said, "We'll
send him on a plane within the hour.” They beckoned Kevin over and told him
about the plan. "Any reason you can't pitch against Vida Blue tonight? "
Kevin nodded side to side and Eddie continued. We're sendin' you to Kansas City
son, hokay?"
"Meeeeee…To Kansas City ….g…g…g.g.g……….gos….gos….go…………-oh
my!" Kevin replied initially dumbfounded.
"I'll have to call my mom first" He ran and found a phone to
call her.
"Allo?"
"It's me mom, I'm going to Kansas City. Kansas City here I
come. I'm going to be a baseball pitcher and be on baseball cards and shaving
commercials."
"But Kevin, you don't even have peach
fuzz yet."
"You're right, maybe I can do orange
juice commercials."
"All right baby, don't hurt
yourself."
He trotted back to the scouts, "OK,
I'm ready."
It was
6 o'clock Kansas City time as the plane hit the landing strip, two hours from
game time. "Well kid, are you ready
for the big leagues?"
"Of
course, I'll beat him easily. No sweat."
Two
players met them at the gate and they loaded into an black Econoline Van and
drove to the private entrance of the stadium. "Before we take you to your
private room we need to greet the press."
In the lobby flashbulbs exploded as photographers tried to capture the
moment. The noise of the crowd was overwhelming and the coach yelled, "If
you reporters could shut up for a minute we could start the interview."
Kansas City is a sports town hungry for news and the questions started. "Have you ever
pitched before?"
"No."
"Do
you think Blue will beat you tonight?"
"Of
course not"
"Do
you think you're too young?"
"Of course not."
"Aren't
you nervous? The Twins are 66-37 and Kansas City is almost 10 games out of
first place, is there any chance we could win the Division?"
"No
and yes."
A
coach stepped up to the mike. "That
will be all gentlemen, Mr. Gallivan must retire to his suite and get some rest
before the pitching duel with Vida Blue."
At the
hotel he took a short nap as his uniform was getting
tailored. At 7:40 he went to the
clubhouse but was stopped by a mob of reporters and autograph seekers. Kevin
pleaded with the crowd, "All right peasants … back in your
huts."
He eyed the grass of the infield as he walked in to the dugout.
“Tight mow,” he was thinking as he jogged onto the field. "Spongy... 3/10ths of
an inch. Not bad." Just to add excitement to the event, Kevin threw his warm up
pitches underhand and backwards using a mirror. The
game started and Kevin and the Kansas City Royals took the field. Kevins first
opposing batter was Bert Campaneris and he threw three strikes right past him.
His strange pitch appeared to be outside the strike zone but ended up just
inside. The next two batters went down swinging and the crowd was getting
excited. By the end of the third inning, neither team had gotten a hit and it was
becoming a tense pitching duel.
With
two out in the eighth inning, Kevin had tied the major league record with 19
strikeouts and his opposing batter was the limp bat of the Athletics batting
rotation, Vida Blue. His first pitch was
a change-up knuckler for a called strike one. The next pitch was just
outside, ball 1. Two sliding curve balls were swung on and missed by the
Oakland pitching ace for another strikeout and a new major league record.
The no
hit pitching duel endured till the 21st inning. At the bottom of the inning,
the now famous Kevin Gallivan faced Vida Blue. Hitless like everyone else,
Kevin had hit some fly balls deep down the right field line to no avail.
He gripped his bat and Mr. Blue
threw and then Kevin closed his eyes and swung.
The sound was that of a long game finally ending as the ball went deep over the
450 foot center field fence for a home run.
The
long hard road to a league title had begun. Ten games out with less than 60
games to go, but now the Royals had a chance of catching the Athletics. As Kevin was rounding third base he yelled
out to a dejected Vida Blue, "you're not so good" and "you should have thrown a change
up."
He was
slapped and patted on the back thousands of times as the fans stormed the field, finally crawling into the
dugout when he was put on a stretcher and driven away in an ambulance.
Newsmen and cameramen were there after he was released from the hospital. The questions
were flying, "Weren't you tired?"
"After
21 innings? Of course not."
"Do
you expect to break many records in the major leagues?"
"I
don't like to think of records, but … Cy Young and his 511 lifetime wins would
be fun to break."
"When
did you realize you had a no hitter going?"
"A
no-hitter?" he was surprised. "Did I pitch a no hitter?"
Later that night on Johnny Carson Kevin was congenial but he had cut himself while shaving some ear hair and the story he told about it had the audience laughing so hard they had to change all the seats the next day.
THE END IS NEAR
By the age of 16 I had been hit in the head with rocks on two separate occasions and had trouble focusing for more than a few minutes at a time. A chronic, oily skin and sweating problem had my glasses sliding off my nose constantly during the summer. I had a good arm but was a lifetime .239 hitter in the Little and Babe Ruth leagues. So humor was all we had left and of course the Red Sox.
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