Before the Savannah Bananas were doing tricks and between-innings shenanigans, there was a barnstorming team called The King and His Court. The court did many routines in their show for comedy, but they had a pitcher, the king, Eddie Feigner, who was almost unhittable. The King and his court traveled worldwide, sometimes picking up a game for the sake of doing so, and bringing with them a mix of athletic marvel, theatrical bravado, and pure Americana. No one back then could have predicted that a decade after the court hung up their cleats, a ragtag troupe of Savannah-grown showmen would revive that same barnstorming spirit—and amplify it into a cultural phenomenon.
For reference to the dominance of the court, there were only 4 of them. The King is pitching, a catcher, a first baseman, and a shortstop. That WAS the team. Feigner’s stats became mythic: 9,743 wins, 141,517 strikeouts, 930 no-hitters, 238 perfect games, and only three home runs allowed in over half a century of pitching.
Feigner once struck out six MLB legends in a row at a charity game in 1967: Willie Mays, Willie McCovey, Brooks Robinson, Roberto Clemente, Maury Wills, and Harmon Killebrew. Feigner stopped pitching in 2000 after a stroke, though he continued as emcee until his passing in 2007. His protégé, Rich Hoppe, learned most of the king’s skills, and the team continued for 4 more seasons.
This is where this story takes a personal turn.
45 some odd years ago, my parents took me to see the King and His Court in Wheeling, WV. They played against Mac’s Holiday, a bar that prided itself on its softball prowess and had won championships in the local playground leagues.
I had not seen the Harlem Globetrotters yet; that wouldn’t happen until the next year, so I had nothing for comparison. This was the craziest game I had ever watched. Runners are going to the wrong base and making fun of the other team. A pitcher throwing a softball underhand faster than most pitchers threw baseballs overhand….and there were only 4 of them.
Something got stirred in me that night. The way it was a game, it was fun, and in the end, it didn’t matter what the score was, but that everyone got something good from it. I never forgot it. Even growing up wanting to play ball, and never getting the opportunity, I never forgot watching those 4 guys in the red, white, and blue uniforms.
When I was coaching teeball and girls’ little league softball, I brought up bringing these barnstormers back to Wheeling for a fundraising show. Few of the “softball experts” on the board knew who they were. After all, softball was pitched slower now, so they had a chance to actually hit the ball in their Sunday morning alcoholic state of athleticism. I admit my actions were somewhat self-centered as well. Since those two experiences in the mid-1970s, I wanted a chance to bat, just once, AGAINST the King. I never understood why I wanted to do this so badly, just that it was on my bucket list, and wasn’t coming off with time.
Time, of course, had moved on, and Eddie Feigner was getting older. His health was an issue, but he was still on the road. In July 2006, the foursome was booked in Waynesburg, Pa., and I packed up my family, and we made the drive.
I had emailed and asked about playing for the other team that night, and for a $300 sponsor fee, I could have. I didn’t have the money, and I knew Eddie wasn’t pitching for them anymore. I wanted the kids to experience what I had at their age, so we went with softballs to get signed by the King and his Court players, and maybe say hello to the King.
Alas, the game was on Tuesday, and 48 hours prior, the King had taken ill and was sent back home. The whole bucket list line seemed to be done, and I tried to justify it as adults do when they have to live with “what if?”
A protege was pitching that night named Rich Hoppe, who had been doing so for a while since the King was getting on in years. Having been so many years since I saw Eddie in person, this new guy threw every trick pitch, and with as much power as I remembered Eddie having. I knew there wasn’t a shot I could hit the ball, no matter who was pitching, if I could make it happen, considering I had never stepped onto a field to play at this caliber.
I was questioning myself as to why this was so important to me, and for a few more years, it lay dormant again as the tour schedule for the team was rarely published that I could find, even on the internet. I don’t remember how I found out about it, but the team was coming to Belle Vernon, PA, in June of 2010. I had “friend-ed” Rich Hoppe on Facebook, and I posted the pictures above and tagged him on them. I tracked down the man in charge of the game, Tim Naulty, and asked about playing against them. After an exchange of emails, he answered back that I should find him when we got to the game, and he would see what he could do for me. On June 1, 2010, I emailed Rich and told him my lifelong dream, and he replied, “Looking forward to it, my brother”. I was on Cloud 9. The day of the game brought a family situation, and some really bad weather, and we did not make the hour’s drive to see them. I figured it was “just not meant to be”.
When it was announced that the court was booking the final 100 games and was going on a “farewell tour” in 2011, it looked like Akron, Ohio, on June 28, was going to be the closest game. I watched the schedule for months, hoping for a chance to just see them play one more time, and since the kids were 5 years older, they might enjoy it a little more this time as well. Around the first part of June, a game in Uniontown, Pa, showed up on the schedule for June 26.
A week before the game, Sunday, June 19, 2011, was Father’s Day. I got up and checked the Facebook feed, and Rich Hoppe had posted that they had games coming up in Tennessee, New York, Kentucky, Pennsylvania, and Ohio next week.
I posted on his wall, “See you all next Sunday”. Less than an hour later, he came back with this response…
…”It’s gonna be so great to see you again, hope you know you’re one of my heroes.”
My first thought was that he had me confused with someone else. So I typed back, “I am? :0)”
He answered, “…you do the right things in life.”
I still had no idea what I did that got his attention, or why he said that, but I invited him and the team to stop in Wheeling the day before, as they had to come right through here on the way to Uniontown. I made arrangements for them to be special guests of mine at a concert, and we exchanged phone numbers. Somewhere in exchanging 6-7 emails, I mentioned wanting to bat against him…. just once.
Their schedule got changed, and they ended up spending Saturday in Columbus, Ohio. Rich emailed me and apologized and offered me a chance to sit on their bench Sunday at the game, and said he had a jersey for me to wear!!! I was floored! I spent all these years wanting to play against them, and sit on the other side of home plate, and now I was going to be sitting on their bench in a King and His Court jersey! I even took my glove and ball pants, just in case one of them went down and I had to play!
Rich Hoppe wears a microphone throughout the game, so after a few speakers from the Relay for Life team, this game’s beneficiary, Rich, lets us know the game is more of a show, and the final score has “already been taken care of.”
He introduced all 4 members of the team, and then said they had a special guest player for the game and invited me to sit on the bench for the game. I handed the camera to my daughter, Amber, and went down onto the field. Rich hands me a King and His Court Final 100 Games Tour jersey to wear. The only difference from their jerseys is that mine is red and theirs is blue.
The game goes on a few innings, and Ron Davenport, Charlie Dobbins, and Brandon Duncan, the other three members of the Court, all take time to come over and talk to me between at-bats. In the game, they all go through the routines that are legendary….you can watch some of them here…
They did every one of those routines in the show that Sunday………(You will notice that University of Texas college softball pitcher, Megan Denny, has on the blue version of the jersey that they gave me as well for playing with them.)
About halfway through the game, the court comes in from the field to bat. As Brandon Duncan goes to the plate, Rich Hoppe says over the PA system….” batting second this inning, for the King and His Court, from Wheeling, WV…Dave Parsons! I’m batting? Holy batman…..I’m batting
FOR
The King and His Court.
I pick out one of their bats as Brandon pops the ball up. I get up to bat, and all I can think of is …” Dear God, let me foul one off….”. Everything I told my girls all those years about batting went through my head in about 10 seconds.
Get your stance….
Watch the ball all the way in…..
Don’t try to kill it….just make contact…..
Here comes the pitch…..swing…..
….and CRACK! I hit the first pitch!!!!
The ball went deep short, and I ran down to first base as fast as I could. It is a bang-bang play, and I ran through the bag just like we taught the girls to do….and as I turned around… The umpire called me safe!!!! Great Call Ump!!! Rich Hoppe says…”Congratulations, Dave…..you get to retire from the King and His Court with a 1,000 lifetime batting average!
I stood there on first base, and realized how many incredible players actually batted for the Court over the years, and how many played against them…the King once struck out Willie Mays, Willie McCovey, Brooks Robinson, Maury Wills, Harmon Killebrew and Roberto Clemente in succession…..just for this one second, I got to be one of them.
The game ended, and the autograph session began. My girls got another ball signed and another round of pictures with the players. And my family and I got a picture with my new teammates! :0)
Kind of like the classic Joe Greene Coke commercial, Rich tells me I can keep the jersey. He then tells me to take good care of it since there are only 6 red ones in the entire world! Seems they had a dozen “guest” jerseys made….6 red and 6 blue…..with the “65 years Last 100 games” on the back. Up until then, I had held it together, but now I had a piece of history….I was a part of history.
I went to the restroom before we left for home, and I looked at myself in the mirror. Every parent, coach, and kid who picked me last for a team wouldn’t let me play with them, told me I was worthless, and told me I knew nothing about the game of softball. You can never stand where I did, and be part of what I was. All I could think of was the scene in “Field of Dreams” where Burt Lancaster hears them yell, “Rookie” and he turns around. And, as the camera zooms in, on his time-worn face nearing tears, they yell “…you were good”….and his life choices become justified and his soul at rest.
That June evening, Charlie Dobbins, Brandon Duncan, Ron Davenport, and Rich Hoppe left Uniontown, PA, and barnstormed their way across the country one last time. Reaching where it all began 65 years prior, Walla Walla, Washington, they hung the van keys on the backstop after the last game in the history of the King and His Court.
I still have no idea what I did that caught Rich Hoppe’s eye, and that he, in turn, did what he did. Maybe the end story is that it took all of those years, and somehow ended up better than I had drawn it up. Am I the only guest to have played for the Court in their 65 years? I would guess not….or the thousands and thousands of folks who played against them in those 65 years? My story is probably not overly unique. No, my whole reason for writing this is that the world needs a whole lot more of these 4 guys, and a whole lot more Banana ball in this world, and remember all that once was good…and could be again. A reminder that just being a good person does have rewards, even if you are not sure when or where.
I have remained friends on social media with all four of the Court members, and keep up with them that way. Once a year, on June 26, I remind them again that for one afternoon in Uniontown, Pennsylvania, those four guys made me feel like I was good enough.
