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Chasing Zero
Chasing Zero
Chasing Zero
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Chasing Zero

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Whenever I hear someone mention the year 1996, I immediately think of that magical baseball season in which a special group of young men won forty-three consecutive baseball games. But it was so much more than just those forty-three games. It was the culmination of years of hard work and dedication to both the game they loved and the teammates they competed with. I feel truly blessed to have been a part of their journey.
Tim Dowdy,
Former New Hope Baseball Coach

The spring of 96 was a magical time that I will never forget. It was a three-month period in which the stars aligned and took us on an unforgettable ride.
Carey Edwards,
Former New Hope Baseball player

I went to my knees near the third base line as the ball began to get closer and closer to the ground. As a sixteen-year-old, all I could think about was how I had just let my team down. My name was going to be in the record books, the only pitcher with an L next to his name. Suddenly, my feet went numb as I stood up in disbelief. I saw what had just happened but didnt believe it. I still have never seen another catch like that!
Scott Kappler,
Former New Hope Baseball Player

LanguageEnglish
PublisherAbbott Press
Release dateJan 21, 2015
ISBN9781458218346
Chasing Zero
Author

Brandt Galloway

The author played on the 1996 New Hope Baseball team. Although no longer involved with the game, his experiences were extremely valuable. He continues to pursue his interests with the same passion and desire for excellence that he and his teammates had for the game of baseball.

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    Book preview

    Chasing Zero - Brandt Galloway

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    Brandt Galloway

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    Copyright © 2015 Brandt Galloway.

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

    Abbott Press

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403

    www.abbottpress.com

    Phone: 1-866-697-5310

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    ISBN: 978-1-4582-1835-3 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4582-1833-9 (hc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4582-1834-6 (e)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2014922282

    Abbott Press rev. date: 01/21/2015

    Contents

    { Preface }

    [ What It Takes to Be Number One ]

    { }

    { A Cast of Characters }

    { Practice Begins }

    { Opening Weekend }

    { Tupelo }

    { Spring Break }

    { Neshoba Central and West Point }

    { 10-14 }

    { American Legion }

    { We Played Football, Too }

    { Noxubee County }

    { West Lowndes }

    { Inside and Out }

    { Selling Oranges }

    { Striking Out }

    { Starkville High }

    { Sloppy Play }

    { Kosciusko, Tuscaloosa Hillcrest, and Aberdeen }

    { Tishomingo High School }

    { Northwest Rankin }

    { IAHS }

    { Wiffle Ball }

    {George County #1}

    { Ice Cream }

    { George County #2 }

    { Champions }

    { All Good Things Come to an End }

    { Thanks Again }

    { New Hope Now }

    { Coach Hester’s Letter to the Team }

    { Coach Dowdy’s Letter to the Team }

    1996 Results

    Many, O Lord, are the wonders you have done. The things you have planned for us no one can recount to you. Were I to speak and tell of them, they would be too many do declare.

    –Psalm 40:5

    { Preface }

    I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought; and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder.

    –G.K. Chesterton

    I would be a fool not to recognize from the beginning those who made the stories from this book a possibility. To the coaches that year—Stacy Hester, Tim Dowdy, Kent Farris, and Shane Oglesby—I am thankful. Coach Hester ran a tough program. It is that for which I am most grateful.

    To the parents who traveled all corners of the great state of Mississippi, I thank you for your support. I’m quite certain that the endless number of games through spring and summer year after year was quite daunting. You never wavered in support of your sons. That’s love and support only a parent could provide.

    To the teammates of those teams, you made it enjoyable. I loved baseball, but to play with friends was even better. We had a team that was special because of the spirit of the guys who played.

    Finally, I would like to thank those who helped in putting this book together. There are memories from a number of players that I have borrowed or quoted. I’d also like to thank Tim Dowdy for his help. His recollection of game information and statistics is absolutely phenomenal. The book is about an incredible spring that has shaped a number of lives since, but without his help the story wouldn’t be as accurate or as descriptive.

    A big thanks goes to my editor as well for agreeing to help me with this project. I didn’t even enjoy reading until I took her English class. I’m sure she almost had a stroke when I asked her to edit a book that I had written. Teachers are wonderful people who have tremendous influence in the lives of youth, and she is one of the best. Thanks for editing the book, but more importantly for the influence so many years ago.

    Finally, I’d like to thank my late friend Clint McCarty for his advice. An accomplished author, he probably wouldn’t want to be connected to my writings, but he did make a number of suggestions and assisted in arranging my thoughts.

    [ What It Takes to Be Number One ]

    Winning isn’t a sometimes thing; it’s an all the time thing. You don’t win once in a while, you don’t do things right once in a while. You do them right all the time. Winning is a habit. Unfortunately, so is losing.

    There is no room for second place in my book. There’s only room for one place in my book and that’s first place. I’ve finished second twice in my time at Green Bay and I never want to finish second again. There is a second place bowl game, but it’s a game for losers played by losers. It is and always has been an American zeal to be first in everything we do, and to win, and to win, and to win.

    Every time a football player goes on the field to ply his trade he’s got to play from the ground up—from the soles of his feet right up to his head. Every inch of him has to play. Some guys play with a lot of head and that’s ok. You’ve got to be smart to be number one in any business, but more importantly you’ve got to play with your heart, with every fiber of your body. If you’re lucky enough to find a guy who plays with a lot of head and a lot of heart, he’s never going to come off the field second.

    Running a football team is just like running any other organization—an army, a political party, or a business. The principles are the same. The object is to win—to beat the other guy. Maybe that sounds harsh or cruel. I don’t think that it is.

    It is a reality of life that men are competitive, and the most competitive games draw the most competitive men. That’s why they’re here—to compete. To know the rules and objectives when they get in the game—and to win. Fairly, squarely, and by the rules, but to win.

    And in truth, I’ve never known a man worth his salt who in the long run didn’t appreciate the grind, the discipline. There’s something in good men that really yearns for discipline and the harsh reality of head to head combat.

    I don’t say these things because I believe that men must be brutalized in order to be combative. I believe in God, and I believe in human decency, but I firmly believe man’s finest hour, his greatest fulfillment to all he holds dear is that moment when he’s had to work his heart out in a good cause and lies exhausted on the field of battle—victorious. –Vince Lombardi

    { }

    It was quite a year, 1996. The chapters that follow are a compilation of stories and memories from me and others on that special team.

    It might be useful to set the stage by referring back to the 1995 season. That season had many highlights but ultimately ended in disappointment against Petal.

    By all measures, 1995 had been a banner year for the program. We were incredibly talented and had been ranked number one in the state for a large portion of the year. We entered the final series with a 37-2 record, including a twenty-six game winning streak.

    Our opponent entered the game with a loaded line-up. They had a couple of professional draft picks on the team, as well as numerous division one level players.

    The atmosphere on our arrival in Petal was electric. As we stepped off the bus and made our way to our dugout, we walked through a sea of red, their school color. Their outfield wall was lined with signs of numerous division and state championships. The place was packed well before the first pitch. Barbeque smoke billowed across the field. The crowd was loud and enthusiastic.

    Being the visitor, we batted in the top of the first at Petal. We failed to score. That at-bat would be the only time in the two-game series that we would bat when we were not trailing. They scored in the bottom of the first, and it seemed like they continued to score until game two was over. Sometimes I wish I could recall more about the games—most of the time I’m glad I cannot. We got our tails kicked the entire series. They were the most talented high school baseball team any of us have ever witnessed—before or since.

    We were swept in the championship by a team that honestly was more talented than we were, and a team that played with the conviction that they were destined to win.

    We were disappointed in how we played, but there was a deep desire in the hearts and minds of those of us who would return in 1996.

    Ironically, sometime around the first practice in the spring of 1996, a quote appeared on the bulletin board in the field house. It read, No team from North Mississippi will ever win the 4A State Championship. The quote was from an anonymous coach. We asked, but no one would tell us where the quote came from. To hell with that guy, we thought. We’ll prove him wrong.

    What we lacked in 1995 was a chemistry and team unity that just wasn’t quite good enough, despite what our record would have indicated. The horrible ending to that season only heightened our resolve, and we were conscious of a new unity. We were going to have fun, but we were going to win—plain and simple. I think the great Coach Lombardi might have been proud of us.

    As you may imagine, my lack of direct involvement in the game of baseball over the last nearly twenty years has made it become for me what it is to most people—a game. While I still enjoy watching a game from time to time, it’s more of an outlet for me.

    I’m quite certain there are a number of memories that have been left out—forgive me for that. Some memories have grown and others have faded. Yet more than we realized then, our accomplishments would become much bigger than a game—they would become a metaphor for the game of life. Boys do become men largely shaped by their experiences.

    The spring of 1996 and the years leading up to it remain a constant in how I approach winning and excellence. For those lessons, I am ever grateful.

    { A Cast of Characters }

    It is in the character of very few men to honor without envy a friend who has prospered.

    –Aeschylus, Greek playwright

    The team character and attitude we displayed in 1996 was largely responsible for our success. I’m sure many teams we defeated would come to envy that quality, and it was due in large part to the coaches.

    I don’t recall what year Stacy Hester arrived at New Hope, but it was at least a year or two prior to my freshman year. I remember being in junior high school on an early spring afternoon and peering out of the window during algebra class. As I watched the team running sprints, I couldn’t wait to become part of it. I could see the commitment and dedication

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