Sullivan’s Island, South Carolina, April 9, 1861
The horse clopped into the small wooded area in the misty morning darkness. Its rider dressed in full military regalia, regarded the man standing in the clearing before him, “Captain Doubleday, it has been a long time.”
The man in the clearing cracked a subtle smile and returned pleasantries. “General Beauregard, it’s such an honor to meet someone of your stature.”
General Beauregard dismounted his horse and stepped toward Captain Doubleday with his hands extended for a handshake. The two men clasped hands and stood for a moment, sizing each other up. They broke off and stood, the General staring intently as the Captain looked about, thoughts racing in his mind.
“Your move,” said the General.
The Captain cleared his throat. “The Struggle has never been about misery and death. We’ve seen decades of misery, and now we’re about to end this cycle with abundant death. Too much death. As we’ve done for millennia. Now I’ve been thinking,” he paused, turned his back on the General, and looked up at the moon as if for inspiration. “One can struggle without so much dreariness. There are other ways to draw out the good and evil in mankind.”
The General lifted an eyebrow and uttered, “Oh?”
“Heroes and villains,” the Captain continued. “The people need heroes and villains. And a pastime to bind them all together, just as allies and enemies and war have fueled The Struggle in the past.”
“And what sort of pastime will be the binding agent?”
“Base ball,” said the Captain.
“You’re mad,” said the General. “How can a child’s game stir enough emotion?”
“I’ve a mind for how it could. People are imaginative creatures. Give them something to cheer for, and they will create their own heroes and monsters. Trust me.”
“The other seraphim will not like this. It has never been done.”
“Wars are becoming old hat. They’re fought by the poor at the behest of the rich. And what appetite for war will people have after the one that’s coming for them? Let them rebuild and find their own struggles.”
The General furrowed his brow in thought. “Fair enough,” he concluded.
“Your move.”
“I attack precisely three days from now. Let’s end this,” said the General as he mounted his horse once again. “For The Struggle!” he said as he urged his horse out of the clearing.
“For The Struggle,” replied Captain Doubleday. He watched General Beauregard ride into the darkness. Then he looked up into the moonlight and closed his eyes. As six shadowy wings rose behind him, he dissipated into the darkness. In three days’ time, a single ten-inch mortar round would start the beginning of the end of an era of human struggle. The American Civil War was about to begin.
Cap Anson was a flawed racist and lifelong champion of the game. He was also a vampire hunter who attended seances and feared he would join the ranks of the undead due to a mishap with a nosferatu in his youth.
Lawyer and family man Jim O’Rourke would spend winters with his older brother fending the family farm from vengeful demons.
In the cold months, the “Old Reliable” first baseman Joe Start would hide away in his workshop and build the most curious contraptions.
Paul Hines spent most of his life searching for a cure for his lycanthropy, an affliction that caused him to lose everyone he loved.
A curse from a voodoo shaman keeps shortstop John Peters awake at night. The zombies coming for him are relentless.
Heroes of Baseball is a book series telling the dark hidden stories of nineteenth-century baseball players that are better left hidden.
This historical fiction book series is planned, but unwritten. No release date is set yet. If you’re intrigued by the idea, send me a note and it might convince me to prioritize this project!
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