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KANNAPOLIS — The coach had no hair, the guy had no arm, the girl had no fear.
It’s been a magical year for the West Rowan hoops trio of Mike Gurley, Scooter Sherrill and Kari Schenk. Gurley won another zillion games, another conference title, another sectional. Sherrill and Schenk filled their homes with all-this and all-that plaques on their way to representing Rowan County in July’s East-West All-Star basketball game in Greensboro.
When they’re old and gray, Appalachian-bound Schenk and N.C. State-bound Sherrill will look back on the spring of 2000 — that happy time when they played ball and graduated from high school — and smile.
Falcon coach Gurley, on the other hand, may get old, but he’ll never be gray. He took off his ballcap a couple of times last night just to make sure everyone in the park got that message. But when the day comes that Gurley can no longer twist and shout and stomp the sidelines, he’ll recline in his rocker and think back to the glory days of Schenk and Sherrill and his smile will be a mile wide.
“Those are two really special kids,” said Gurley. “They’ve represented the class of 2000 at West so well. They deserve a night like this.”
The Falcon trio had another chance to represent on Monday at Fieldcrest Cannon Stadium, where they were invited by Piedmont head honcho Todd Parnell to toss out ceremonial first pitches prior to the Boll Weevils’ game with Delmarva. As they strolled toward the pitcher’s mound, Schenk, a terrific all-round athlete who has been all-conference in four sports at West, told her basketball buddies that she “had them all the way.”
She wasn’t kidding.
Gurley threw first. More baseball fan than baseball player, Gurley, who jokes that he was run off the diamond as a ninth-grader by the curveball, uncorked a floater that barely reached the mitt of Weevil volunteer catcher Brian Hitchcox. Gurley’s effort did not register on radar guns.
Sherrill stepped up next and, well, let’s just say it’s a good thing the young man has a jump shot.
“Scooter, that was a lollipop,” crowed Gurley, happy to have clinched at least a silver medal in the three-person competition.
“Hey, Scooter, you should have jumped from the mound and dunked it in his mitt,” teased Weevil Chris Keelin.
No official clocking was recorded, but Sherrill’s arcing heave should have required a flight plan.
“I played baseball in the peewees and all,” chuckled Sherrill. “I was a good baserunner, but not much of a hitter or pitcher.”
Rumor has it that on those rare occasions on which Sherrill did reach first base, he was always standing on third two pitches later.
“But baseball’s not really my game,” said Sherrill.
Gee, no kidding.
That left it all up to Schenk to salvage some respect for the Falcon flingers. She was ready.
“I threw with my brother, Ryan (an outfielder for the South Rowan Legion) before I came out here,” she said.
Schenk said there wasn’t much pressure because the bulk of the crowd had yet to arrive as she stepped on the hill. She said there was even less stress once she watched the less-than-golden arms of Gurley and Sherrill in action.
“Scooter’s blooper pitch took the pressure off,” laughed Schenk.
A number of the Weevils poked one another in the ribs, as Schenk toed the rubber. “Hey, look, the girl’s gonna throw, too,” someone said.
Yeah, Schenk threw it. A knee-high strike that whooshed menacingly through the air and elicited a pop from Hitchcox’s glove. Hitchcox blinked and grinned. Muscular outfielder Marlon Byrd looked like he’d just seen a ghost. Keelin nearly became hysterical.
“I can’t believe it!” yelped Keelin,” who was inspired enough by Schenk to log his first win of the season a few hours later. “She’s better than anyone on our team.”
“A two-seamer,” wailed Weevil ace Adam Walker. “She’s got great stuff.”
“Mark Outlaw’s (Piedmont’s lefty reliever) gone, he’s done,” deadpanned Weevil pitching coach Rod Nichols. “What an arm! She threw better than the guys.”
“Jiminy Christmas,” whooped Weevil manager Greg Legg. “That girl’s obviously an athlete. That was a strike.”
Schenk smiled after her toss, shrugged, high-fived a few friends and headed for the concourse to sign autographs for fans. Trailing sheepishly in her wake came Gurley and Sherrill.
“Kari had to show us up,” said Gurley, feigning disgust.
“Guess so,” said Sherrill. “But I knew all day it was coming. Kari’s a great athlete.”
“At least,” rationalized Gurley, to anyone who would listen, “I was better than Scooter.”
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Schenk and Sherrill signed autographs for the public, swapping stories and laughs all the while.
“Kari and me, we go back to sixth grade,” says Sherrill proudly.
“English class,” says Schenk. “You sat right behind me.”
Sherrill beams, pleased that she remembers.
Kids gather round them, most demanding something personalized to “Scooter’s No. 1 fan,” but Schenk gets her share of attention, too.
Sherrill is unfailingly polite. One man has four kids and wants autographs for each of them.
“No problem, sir,” answers Sherrill, making swift strokes with a Sharpie.
Schenk tells Sherrill the story of how she wore No. 22 at West Middle, but adopted No. 32 in high school, because “22” wasn’t available. Sherrill responds that he wears No. 23, not because Michael Jordan did, as most believe, but because he was born on the 23rd.
Sherrill grins when someone tells him that, while his pitch wasn’t much, it was still better than the three-hopper football star Nick Maddox tossed last summer.
“Yeah, that’s what I heard,” says Sherrill happily.
Listening to Schenk and Sherrill gab and giggle, they could be any two ordinary teenagers. But of course, they are anything but ordinary. They are, just as Gurley said, very special people.
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For Gurley, a frequent visitor to Weevil games, this has been a special night, as well.
As a kid, his older brother, Mark, successfully turned him into a diehard Cincinnati Reds fan.
The two brothers spent happy hours listening to the Reds — to the faraway, yet magically clear radio voices of Marty Brenneman and Joe Nuxhall on Cincy’s flagship station, WLW 700.
“Those were four-channel days for TV,” says Gurley. “So we’d listen to the Reds. Mark, he’d pull his old T-bird right up in the driveway so we could hear.”
As young Gurley lay in bed on summer nights, he could hear the Reds playing and know that his older brother was home and watching out for him and that all was right with the world.
“That radio was a safety net for me. “Like Linus with his blanket,” says Gurley, smiling as the memories came flowing back.
Special memories. Special people. And a special night for three unforgettable Falcons at Fieldcrest Cannon.
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Ronnie Gallagher contributed to this story.
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