Cf)c (Sutlforbtan
14
Womack tries to steal The Show
Ex-Guilford infielder runs for record feat
By Butch Maler
Put me in, Coach. I'm ready to
play—today.
—John Fogerty
CONWAY, SC
Ex-Guilford College
shortstop Tony Womack watched his
Augusta Pirate teammates warm-up
for a game against the Myrtle Beach
Hurricanes this summer.
"I love playin', I don't
want to rest," he lamented.
Womack was instructed to
take "a day or two rest" so he could
heal from a slight groin strain.
He doesn't complain about
the wait, though—Tony counts
himself fortunate, emerging from his
small private Greensboro school to
professional baseball's minor
leagues.
Womack, 22, was selected
in the seventh round of the 1991
amateur baseball draft by Pittsburgh
and signed with the Pirates for an
undisclosed amount of money.
"I don't tell how much.
It's nice to get paid—it's very
nice— but money was not a factor
when I signed. I'm just happy to be
playing."
Womack was assigned to
Welland of the New York-Penn
League and hit .277 in over 200
plate appearances last year. But his
hitting isn't gonna get Womack to
The Show, as minor leaguers
affectionately and respectfully dub
the majors. Tony must steal his way
there.
"I gotta earn it—keep
A slice of life from the Butcher
What are you out to prove?
Butch MaJer
It seemed harmless enough.
A friendly game of pick-up basket
ball between friends, played under the
lights and in the shadows on the hoop
by Guilford's tennis courts.
Owen Thompson, my honorary
playing buddy—the guy with this
mysterious song in his head ("Do-De-
Dee-Do") that he shared from time to
time—and Allen Hill, my roommate
of two-plus years were already shoot
ing around as I jogged up to the con
crete suface after 11p.m. Tuesday night.
Two friends of mine—Randy Wall,
and Davey McCullough, a 6'B" Guil
ford basketball sophomore—soon fol
lowed. As we warmed up, Allen pro
posed that he and I would take on
Davey, Randy and Owen in a half
court game. I chuckled, thinking the
idea preposterous. But always up for a
challenge, I conceded to give it a shot.
I, being 6'4", had the dubious dis
tinction of defending Davey. Allen, a
true guard, decided he could try to
cover same-sized Randy and Owen, a
little taller. With no real method to the
madness, we would try to scrap with
them as best we could.
The game began with teams trading
stealing bases. If I can just assert
myself, concentrate, keep focus, then
I could make it."
With 28 thefts in 32
attempts at Welland, Womack was
well on his way. Through 67 games
with Augusta this summer, he led the
Pirate organization with 36 steals.
At Guilford, Womack hit
near the .350 clip and set an all-time
school season record for swipes with
23 in 1991.
The Augusta record before
this season was 48.
"We're not allowed to
look at the stats, but the guys remind
me of how close I am fto the
record]."
So far this year, Womack
has struggled at the plate, hovering
around the .240 mark. But Tony
keeps this in perspective.
"In college, you get days
off to practice, so you can come
back great after a bad game. Here,
you play every day and slumps are
gonna happen, but you can't say
you'll never get out of it."
Womack, a Chatham, VA
native, should graduate from
Guilford this fall with a sport
management major and plans to live
in Greensboro with ex-Guilford
football stand-out Rodney
Alexander, a NCAA Division ID
All-American defensive lineman in
his own right.
"I'm gonna get my
education—it's best for me,"
Womack said.
Tony will learn more
about "what he needs to improve"
concerning his baseball skills in the
baskets until the score was eight-all.
Davey and I were working fairly hard
under the boards, with elbows meeting
chests and hips jockeying for position.
I knew this match-up should be no
contest, with Davey in line to possibly
start for the school team this year and
me relegated to the distinction of vir
tual unknown in intramural play. Still,
I thought I could hold my own and, at
least, not let him dominate me.
I fronted Davey so he had to drive to
the right—which might seem silly since
that's his natural side to drive—but
being left-handed, that was the only
defensive chance I had.
When he tried to go baseline on me
one time, I stayed right with him, know
ing I was in trouble if he turned the
corner. Well, he did. But as he went up
for the rim, I swooped around with my
left arm and pinned the ball on the
backboard, pushing it on outof bounds.
Everybody, including me, did a double
take in disbelief.
Randy would later say that it was the
best he ever saw me play on defense.
Allen decided to go on a scoring
binge and put us way out in front,
frustrating the opposition to no ends,
renewing my confidence in my ability.
SPORTS
COMMENTARY
•* "* * m im 'HT *
* -i '*4yl
f
Tony Womack ponders his future with the Pirates
Organization. Photo by Butch Maler
instructional league next fall, as
suggested by the Pirates.
As for the organization for
whom he plays?
Half-hook. Turn-around jump shot.
Pull-up jumper. All over Davey. We
led 17-8.
Push came to shove. The two six
footers under the boards scrapped for
positioning. Davey stuck his backside
into my hip. I crossed in front of him
with my right foot. He spun, arm wav
ing for the ball, as he tried to go back
door. I wouldn't have it.
Memories of defeat haunted me as
we played.
Two years ago, I was sitting in En
glish lounge, watching "Come Fly with
Me," a highlight video of Michael Jor
dan. I was preparing myself emotion
ally for my attempt at walking-on
Guilford's basketball team, when this
freshman strolled in the room and
started reciting the narration as it played
on the tape. I'm thinking, Who is this
cocky guy?
It was Davey. And he ended up
making the team, while I was left to
write about him, and all the other "real"
athletes. Couple that with another battle
which he had won—off-the-court, in
courting a certain six-foot blonde—
and I intensified my desire to prove
myself, throwing every physical, men
tal and emotional ounce into winning
this pick-up game, but not just win
ning.
"I like it If I didn't I
wouldn't have signed. They tell you
straight up what you have to do."
"You're not gonna be
Randy lofted the ball towards Davey.
It ascended before me. I leapt.
"No way—get that out!" I yelled,
snatching the sphere.
Passing a ball over my head was not
a viable option, I have always main
tained.
Nevertheless, the gap was closing.
Our lead shrank—until I hit the last
shot.
Game. 21-18.1 didn't want to look
at Davey, because I wasn't sure how
he'd respond to a "good game" hand
shake. I slapped Allen's hand and
walked to the corner of the court, un
derneath a night lamp, to catch my
breath.
I bent over. A convulsing gasp and
I was in tears. I could not stop. I walked
away to a corner outside Ragan-Brown,
thoughts of failed attempts and hoop
hopes halted racing through my mind.
Cut at prep school. The last cut my
senior year in high school. Unable to
endure my pursuits as a walk-on. The
six-foot blonde.
Allen walked over to me and
said"Jesus died, Butch. He died for it
all."
What? My defenses arose. Not me.
Yes, me. For everything I did for me.
I walked over to hug Davey.
"I'm sorry. I failed you as a friend."
September 4,1992
friends with every
body when you're
try in' to beat people
out of a job, but you
make friends along the
way."
Womack had
done just that with
Augusta outfielder
Tony Mitchell, but
when Pittsburgh
acquired Alex Cole
from Cleveland,
Mitchell was part of
the Indians' reim
bursement.
"That's part of
baseball. When
you're in the minors,
you have no control—
it's the organization's
say-so. You just can't
play like if you have a
bad game, you'll be
traded or released.
You gotta give it your
all—it's not your
worry.
"I tell myself to
stay with the funda
mentals—do what you
can. It's not doin'
more than you can
takin' the extra base
and being aggressive.
It's doin' more when
you're tryin to be a
hero. Stay within
yourself and do it."
And Tony's doin* it. In
mid-August, he stole his 49th base
this season for Augusta—just
another feat for his record-breaking
feet.
"No you didn't. We just got a little
competitive. That's why we're out
here—everybody wants the same
thing."
"No, you don't understand. I didn't
want to win. I wanted to beat you."
There's a difference. I was out to
prove I was better than him in some
way, the only way I could. Praise God,
Dave Getz' prayer of brokenness for
me was answered.
Everybody, it seems, has something
they are out to prove. Whether you are
a freshman looking for popularity and
acceptance —on or off the field, a se
nior looking to make it on your own, or
somewhere in between, you are prob
ably trying to establish yourself in
some way.
What Allen told me back in our
room put things into perspective.
"Jesus had every right to have an
ego, but yet He gave it up. He had
every right to His rights, yet He gave
them up. As far as you are concerned,
you've failed at your life—you have
nothing else to prove. Concentrate on
letting Jesus be your focus, not your
self."
I charge the same to you.
1 preached that they should repent
and turn to God and prove their repen
tance by their deeds.
—Acts 26:20b, NIV Bible