The Ballad of the Brothers Barrell - A Figment Story

[legendsport]

August 27, 1951: Noble Jones College, Augusta, GA:

The late summer sun bore down on the grass of Noble Jones College’s practice field as Charlie Barrell strode into the lion’s den of his college teammates. The air was thick with the anticipation of a new season, the field a patchwork of freshly painted lines and worn cleats.

“Look who decided to grace us with his presence!” boomed a voice from the back. It was Hank “Bulldog” Benson, a linebacker with a penchant for wise cracks and bone-crushing tackles.

“Hey, fellas, didn’t you hear? We got a real-life celebrity in our midst,” joked Tommy “Slick” Rodgers, the swift-footed receiver, his grin wide as the end zone.

Charlie, ball cap low over his eyes, grinned despite himself and approached his teammates. "Gentlemen, it's been a whirlwind, but I'm just glad to be back. Looking to hit the books and the field hard—just a student and athlete again, nothing more."

The players circled around him, the teasing mixed with genuine admiration. "Big time Charlie, eh? Smacking homers and then just bouncing back to throw some touchdowns?" teased Bulldog, clapping Charlie on the shoulder. "Surely you're gonna stick with baseball after stunts like that?"

Charlie shrugged, his face a mask of mixed emotions. "Baseball's great, but there's something about the gridiron and the court that keeps calling me back. Besides, I've got some unfinished business here and a championship to think about."

Marcus "Speedy" Lee, the fleet-footed running back, chimed in, "Man, you've got more options than my mom's Sunday dinner menu. Just don't forget us little people when you're signing those big checks!"

The laughter was interrupted by the sharp whistle of Coach Donnelly, a grizzled veteran of the gridiron wars, his face as tough as worn leather and his voice like gravel. "Alright, knock it off! Barrell, good to see you back. Now, last season was a bust. This year, it's a new playbook, new attitude. We're here to win, or you’ll find yourselves running laps 'til your grandkids feel it."

The team straightened up, the weight of the coach’s expectations settling over them like a heavy fog.

“Understood, Coach,” Charlie called back, a nod of respect to the old warhorse.

As practice kicked off, Charlie found his rhythm, his throws precise, his decisions sharp. The field was where he could silence the noise, focus on the now—the zip of the ball, the patterns of his receivers, the tactical chess of football.

After a grueling practice, as the team dispersed under the glow of the setting sun, Charlie spotted his college sweetheart, Ellie May Carter, waiting by the bleachers. Her presence was a refreshing sight after the grueling drills.

“There goes 'The Heartbreak Kid', off to his gal while we’re still catching our breath,” Bulldog shouted, his tone ribbing but friendly.

“Give it a rest, Bulldog!” Ellie shot back with a laugh, her eyes twinkling as she took Charlie’s arm.

As they walked away, Charlie felt the pull of his many worlds—the thrill of baseball, the strategy of football, the electric charge of basketball, and the grounding force of his life here at Noble Jones. Each step with Ellie reminded him of why he returned. It wasn’t just about the sports; it was about the life he was building, piece by unpredictable piece.

“Tough practice?” Ellie asked, squeezing his arm.

“You know it. But it’s good to be back,” Charlie replied, his mind still on Coach Donnelly’s stern directive and his own looming decisions.

Ellie smiled, a beacon in the encroaching dusk. “Whatever you choose, I’m here. Just remember, it’s not about the game you play, but how you play it—and who you play it for.”

Charlie nodded, the weight of his choices looming large, yet the path ahead seemed a little clearer with Ellie by his side. He hadn't admitted it, but she was much a reason for his return to school as any other. As they walked into the twilight, the echo of the day’s laughter and Coach Donnelly’s shouts melded into the quiet promise of one last year at college.

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Charlie Barrell (R) on the field with NJC Coach Dick Donnelly in 1951
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[legendsport]

October 8, 1951: Philadelphia, PA:

Bobby Barrell was nervous. He'd been asked to sit in as a special guest commentator for the World Championship Series being broadcast for the very first time nationwide on the NBC Television network. When he'd admitted his nervousness to Annette before leaving the house, she'd laughed at him, noting that he wasn't nervous playing baseball before 50,000 people. Bobby had admitted the truth of this but pointed out that he was a professional ballplayer and speaking wasn't his forte.

"Well, you know the subject at hand. Just talk about what's happening and what you're seeing. Should be easy as pie," Annette had said. Bobby nodded - he hadn't thought of it in those terms. He did know the game.

The atmosphere in the NBC broadcast booth was electric as Bobby joined veteran broadcaster Red Taylor who gave him some pointers and explained how things worked. Despite the lingering pain in his back and knees from the just-completed baseball season, Bobby was excited. This was a new frontier for him.

Red Taylor: "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. We're here at Soldiers and Sailors Stadium in the city of Brotherly Love for the grand spectacle of the World Series, Game Four, between the St. Louis Pioneers and the Philadelphia Sailors. Joining me today is none other than Bobby Barrell, one of the greatest to ever play the game and a legend in the city of Philadelphia. Bobby, welcome to the booth."

Bobby Barrell: "Thank ya, Red. It's a pleasure to be here, though I'd rather be out on that field with my Keystones. But this is a real nice consolation."

As Taylor read a commercial for shaving cream, Bobby peered out at the field from the broadcast booth above and behind home plate. It was a fantastic view and looking over the field and the stands full of fans, Bobby felt his love for the game and its spectacles soar. His attention snapped back to the matter at hand as Taylor wrapped up the commercial, saying, "I use it everyday Red!" as he had been instructed to do.

Red Taylor: "Let's jump right into it. Top of the first, George Atkins leading off for the Pioneers against John Thomas Johnson. Bobby, what can you tell us about Atkins?"

Bobby Barrell: "Well, Red, George is a patient hitter. You see that here—he's already worked the count to 3-1. He doesn't mind taking a walk, and that's exactly what he does. Ain't nothing flashy, but he gets on base, and that's what counts."

As the game progressed, Bobby's insight proved invaluable. His Southern drawl and candid commentary added a unique flavor to the broadcast.

Red Taylor: "We see Frank Kirchner up next, sacrificing Atkins to second. Bobby, what do you think of the small ball strategy here?"

Bobby Barrell: "Smart play, Red. In these tight games, ya gotta move runners any way ya can. Kirchner's bunt was textbook. Ain't glamorous, but it's effective."

The bottom of the first saw the Sailors' leadoff man, Billy Forbes, getting a single off Hiram Steinberg. Bobby, having faced Steinberg numerous times, was full of insights.

Bobby Barrell: "Now, Red, I've faced Steinberg plenty. He's got a wicked fastball, but if ya wait him out, he can get a lil' wild. Forbes did a good job staying patient and taking that single the other way."

Red Taylor: "Here comes Al Farmer, laying down the bunt. Bobby, we don't see as much bunting nowadays, especially from a great hitter like Farmer. What are your thoughts?"

Bobby Barrell: "Well, Red, bunting's a bit of a lost art. But in a game like this, it's all about execution. Farmer did his job, movin' Forbes into scoring position. It's the little things that win games."

As the game reached the bottom of the second, the Sailors managed to score three runs, giving them an early lead. Bobby's analysis during this inning was spot on.

Bobby Barrell: "Johnson helped his own cause with that single. Pitchers who can hit are a real asset. And look at Forbes, hustlin' home from third. That's the kinda play that fires up a team."

As the game wore on, Bobby's knowledge of the Pioneers shone through, especially when discussing Hiram Steinberg's pitching.

Red Taylor: "Top of the third, Steinberg doubles with one out. Bobby, what’s it like facing a pitcher who can also hit?"

Bobby Barrell: "It's tough, Red. Steinberg's a competitor. When a pitcher gets a hit, it can swing the momentum, because it's not what you expect. Ya gotta bear down and get the next guy. But Johnson handled it well, limiting the damage."

In the bottom of the third, the Sailors extended their lead to 4-1. Bobby noted the importance of timely hitting.

Bobby Barrell: "Rutter's double was clutch. Ya get those insurance runs any way ya can. And Scott scoring from first shows ya that hustle and heart matter in this game."

As the game progressed, Bobby continued to provide insightful commentary, blending his deep knowledge of the game with personal anecdotes and a touch of Southern charm.

Red Taylor: "We’re in the sixth inning now, and the Pioneers have cut the lead to one with a two-run homer by Claude Kade. Bobby, what do you think?"

Bobby Barrell: "That was a heckuva swing by Kade. He’s got quick hands and good pop. But Johnson needs to keep his composure. It’s all about how ya bounce back after a big hit like that. I've seen many a pitcher give up a tough hit, and you see which ones handle it best. Johnson... he looks mad. I think he'll be fine."

In the bottom of the seventh, the Sailors added two more runs, making it 6-3. Bobby emphasized the importance of capitalizing on opportunities.

Bobby Barrell: "Rutter’s triple was a beauty. I haven't seen him much, but he's an impressive young hitter. When ya get a chance to put the game outta reach, ya gotta take it. This game’s all about seizin’ the moment and Rutter did."

As the game wound down, Bobby reflected on the significance of this historic broadcast.

Red Taylor: "Bobby, it’s been a pleasure having you here. Any final thoughts?"

Bobby Barrell: "Well, Red, it’s been an honor. This game... it’s a beautiful thing. And getting to share it with folks all over the country, well, that's somethin' special. Whether yer playin' or callin' it from the booth, it's about the love of the game."

As the final out was recorded, the Sailors securing a 6-4 victory, Bobby’s passion for baseball was evident. His insights, charisma, and deep knowledge of the game hinted at a promising future in broadcasting, should he choose to pursue it.

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Bobby Barrell broadcasting during Game 4 of the 1951 WCS
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[legendsport]

October 10, 1951: Boston, MA:

Harry Barrell strolled into the ballpark, a place that had become as familiar to him as his own home. He wasn't sure why he had been summoned, but the cryptic nature of the request had left him slightly uneasy. As he approached the office, he noticed a small gathering and his discomfort grew. There stood the venerable Jesse Barton, the club’s 84-year-old owner, alongside his daughter Ruth, the general manager, and the current manager, Billy Hammond.

With his razor-sharp wit always at the ready, Harry quipped, "Did someone forget to tell me it was my surprise birthday party?"

Ruth Barton stepped forward, her smile as polished as ever. "Harry, thank you for coming. We have something important to discuss."

"Uh oh," Harry replied with a mock-serious expression, "I didn't think my batting average was *that* bad. So, what's it gonna be? Am I getting traded or released?"

The group shared a chuckle, easing the tension in the room. Ruthie, clearly the driving force behind the meeting, took a step closer. "Neither, Harry. We have a different proposition for you."

Harry raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Well, lay it on me then. I could use a good mystery to spice up my day."

Ruth glanced at her father, who gave a slight nod of encouragement, and then turned back to Harry. "Billy Hammond is retiring as the Minutemen's manager."

Harry's eyes widened. "Is that so? Well, Billy, congratulations on escaping this madhouse," he said with a grin, turning to Hammond.

Hammond chuckled. "Thanks, Harry, but there’s more. Ruthie will tell you."

Ruth continued, her voice steady and clear. "We want you to take over as the new manager."

Harry blinked, momentarily speechless. "Me? The player? The cut-up? The comic relief? You want *me* to manage this team?"

Ruth nodded, her expression earnest. "Yes, Harry. You’ve shown real leadership potential. Dad, Billy, the GM, and I have all noticed it."

Harry shook his head, his hands going up in protest. "Now wait just a minute. I'm not ready to hang up my cleats just yet. I’m still a player, and let’s face it, an unserious one at that."

Ruth smiled, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Who says you have to stop playing? We want you to do both. Player-manager."

Harry looked around the room, searching for any sign of a hidden camera or a punchline to a joke. "You're serious, aren't you?"

Hammond stepped forward, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder. "The team’s patience with its youth is about to pay off. I believe you can steer this team better than I can, especially with the younger players. They look up to you, Harry."

Harry ran a hand through his hair, still trying to process the information. "But what if I mess it up? I’m not exactly known for my serious side, you know."

Jesse Barton, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke, his voice gravelly with age but filled with authority. "We have faith in you, Harry. You have the heart and the spirit. That’s what this team needs."

Harry sighed, feeling the weight of their expectations. "Alright," he said finally. "I’ll do it. I’ll be your player-manager."

Ruth’s face lit up. "Wonderful. I knew you’d come around."

Harry glanced at the phone on the desk. "I need to make a call."

"Calling your wife?" Ruth asked.

Harry grinned. "No, I’m calling my brother Tommy."

"Not Fred?" Ruth inquired, referring to Harry’s other brother who managed in Toronto.

Harry smirked. "Fred’s a former catcher. You know, the guy wearing the tools of ignorance. I need someone with a little more… finesse."

The room erupted in laughter, the tension finally broken. As Harry picked up the phone to call Tom, he felt a mix of excitement and apprehension. The road ahead would be challenging, but if there was one thing Harry Barrell loved, it was a good challenge.

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Ruth Barton (l) watches as Harry Barrell listens to Billy Hammond.
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[legendsport]

October 20, 1951: Oyster Bay, NY:

"Fore!" yelled Rollie Barrell as he swung his driver, sending the golf ball straight and true down the fairway.

His brothers Jack, Fred, and Tom groaned as they watched the ball soar towards the green.

"Why do we always let him sucker us into playing golf?" Fred groused.

"We could have played with Harry, Bobby, Dan, and Roger," Tom noted.

Rollie, beaming, replied, "Hey, you guys drew straws."

"He's got us there," said Jack.

Fred looked at Tom. "This is your fault, anyway," he said as he walked towards the tee box.

"What? Why?" Tom spluttered.

"You're the one whose wife is having a baby. Hence the need for a baby shower, and therefore an opportunity for the Barrell boys to hit the links," Fred explained.

Fred hit his tee shot and then groaned again as the ball sliced into the trees. He muttered an expletive as his brothers laughed.

"This is something else," Rollie said to Tom as they watched Jack prepare to take his turn at the tee.

"Yeah, it's a nice course," Tom replied.

"I've played here before," Rollie noted, to which Tom nodded and said, "That makes sense, with all the traveling you do."

Rollie pointed out towards the waters of the Long Island Sound. "Are you going to miss living out here?" he asked.

Tom pursed his lips. "Well... let's just say Marla is not thrilled with the idea of moving to Kansas City," he said.

"And you?" Rollie pushed.

Tom shrugged. "I like it here, sure. And Brooklyn... we have ties. I mean, I'll always be a Georgia boy, but this was a second home for all of us." He nodded at Rollie and added, "You were born there."

Rollie nodded and said, "That's a tough spot for you. Marla not wanting to leave, I mean."

It was true. Marla was the daughter of the former owner of the Pittsburgh Miners and independently wealthy. Certainly more wealthy than Tom, who had been both well-paid as a player and profligate with his money as a longtime bachelor. Fred sometimes teased Tom, calling him a "kept man." Rollie knew all this, of course, and didn't join in on the ribbing. Then again, Rollie was by far the wealthiest member of the Barrell family.

"She's suggested I give up managing and retire," Tom said with another shrug. "She points out that we don't need the money, which is true, and that with the baby coming, it might be nice to have me around more, which is also true. The move to Missouri doesn't help either."

"Yeah, that's a tough situation," Rollie noted.

Jack returned after hitting a decent tee shot and received a curt "Nice shot" from Fred. "You talking about the potential 'retirement' from managing?" he asked Tom.

Fred raised his eyebrows. "Retirement? What will you do with your time?" he asked.

Tom raised his hands. "Whoa, I never said I was going to retire," he said. "Only that Marla has been suggesting I think about it."

Fred frowned. "Well, if your wife isn't on board... that could be trouble," he said. His brothers, all married, nodded in agreement.

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Marla Barrell was being asked similar questions by some of her sisters-in-law back at the home she shared with Tom. It was a large, well-appointed home. A "not-quite-mansion," as Tom called it. Certainly, there were plenty of wealthy neighbors, and everyone knew Tom as a former baseball star and now manager of the Brooklyn, soon-to-be Kansas City, Kings.

"Kansas City isn't all that bad," Tillie was saying. She was a midwestern girl and had lived in Brooklyn while Fred was playing for the Kings.

"Yes, but you live in Canada," Bobby's wife Annette pointed out.

"And so? What is wrong with Canada?" asked Jack's wife Marie, her French accent making her sound more aggrieved than her grin would indicate.

"Nothing," said Annette. "If you like cold," she added with a smirk.

"Well, I can say I don't care for Boston winters," Sarah added. "Harry promised me a trip someplace warm this winter."

"I'd hold him to that," Betsy threw in. "My brother isn't exactly known for his planning skills."

Sarah chuckled, "That's for sure," she said.

Marla shook her head. "With the baby coming, I just think it'd be nice for Tom to focus on his family. He can always go back to baseball later. It's not like he's playing now," she said in a rush.

Betsy, who knew her brothers very well and had the Barrell competitiveness herself, put a hand on Marla's shoulder and said, "Tom is thick-headed, but he loves you. I guarantee this is tearing him up inside. The Barrell in him will want to continue competing, but his love for you and your child is a force that might be too strong to resist."

Gladys asked, "Have you thought about seeing if he could move into a front-office role? I can say it's been wonderful having Dan around regularly since he became FABL President rather than taking constant OSA scouting trips."

A thoughtful look appeared on Marla's face. "No, I hadn't thought about that. We'd still have to move, but if he worked in the team office, he'd be home every night. That might be just the compromise we need."

"That's the spirit," Francie said with a smile. "Marriage to a Barrell is tough. Their competitive nature can be tough to balance with family responsibilities."

"Speaking of competition, do you think they've killed each other out on the golf course yet?" Tillie asked.

"Probably not, I've heard Fred is terrible," said Marla with a laugh.

"I just hope Bobby doesn't hurt his back. That thick-headed bull is determined to play one more season," Annette said, frustration evident in her tone.

"Honestly, I can't wait for Harry to retire," Sarah admitted. "I don't like him having to be around that... that... she-wolf," snarled Sarah.

Betsy's eyebrows rose in surprise at mild-mannered Sarah's outburst. "What she-wolf?" she asked.

"Ruth Barton," Sarah grumbled. "She has herself set on my husband, I just know it."

The other women began asking questions all at once. For now, Marla's concerns were forgotten as they dove into a juicier topic.

"Ruth Barton? Old Jesse's daughter?" Marla asked. At Sarah's nod, she added, "I remember her from, oh, before the war. She was just a kid then, kind of a scrawny little tomboy."

Sarah's face screwed up in disgust, and she replied, "Well, she's no tomboy now. She's the kind of woman any red-blooded American guy would go weak-kneed over."

Betsy put her arm around Sarah's shoulders. "Harry won't stray. You and the kids mean everything to him."

A tear welled in Sarah's eye, and she said, "I know, I shouldn't worry, but I can't help myself."

"Don't worry so much. Harry can be a goof occasionally, but he's faithful," Betsy said. "And if it turns out he isn't," she added, "Well, then, I'll kill him myself."

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Tom Barrell golfing in 1951
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[legendsport]

October 29, 1951: Brooklyn, NY:

Press Conference Transcript: Tom Barrell Announces Retirement

Kings PR Manager: Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us today. Without further ado, I present to you a man who needs no introduction here in Brooklyn, Hall of Fame pitcher and Kings manager Tom Barrell, who has an important announcement to make.

Tom Barrell: Thank you all for coming. First, I want to thank the fans of the Brooklyn Kings for their unwavering support over the years. Playing for the Kings has been one of the greatest honors of my life. I also want to thank the late Daniel Prescott, the owner who brought me to Brooklyn, and my longtime manager Powell Slocum, who believed in me and helped shape my career. I had nine fantastic years as a player here, winning three Allen Awards as the Continental Association's best pitcher, and I will always cherish those memories.

I also want to express my gratitude to my brothers—Dan, Fred, and Harry—whom I had the privilege of playing alongside on the Kings. It was a rare and special experience that I will always hold dear.

I'm very happy to announce that my bench coach, Jim Dudkiewicz, is being promoted to manager of the Kings. Dud is one of the best men in the sport, and I'm thrilled he is finally getting a chance to run an FABL ballclub. I remember when Dud started his coaching career as a roving pitching instructor for the Cannons, where he mentored a young pitcher named Deuce Barrell—my nephew, who was then just a cocky kid with a head three sizes too big and is now a star pitcher, and Dud played a big part in that. It just goes to show the impact Dud has had on so many players, and I know he will do an incredible job as manager.

I also want to thank my wife, Marla, for putting up with my crazy schedule while managing. I'm looking forward to spending more time with her and our child, who is due in January. It's time for me to focus on my family, and I'm excited about this new chapter in our lives.

Lastly, I want to wish the Kings the best as they start their next chapter in Kansas City. I know they will continue to be a great team and will have a bright future ahead.

Percy Pringle, Brooklyn Eagle: Tom, why are you retiring at just 43 years old?

Tom Barrell: It's a tough decision Percy, but it's the right one for me and my family. With a baby on the way, I want to be there for my wife, Marla, and our child. Family has always been important to me, and this is the right time to focus on them.

Jack Brinker, NY Herald Tribune.: Will you miss managing?

Tom Barrell: Absolutely. I was born to compete, and stepping away from managing will be tough. But at this stage of my life, it's the right decision. I'll miss the camaraderie, the strategy, and the thrill of the game, but my family needs me more right now.

Wally Lanier, WOR Radio: What are your plans for the future? Any chance you'll return to baseball in some capacity?

Tom Barrell: For now Wally, my focus is on my family. But who knows what the future holds? I love the game, and I might find a way to stay involved, perhaps in a front-office role or as an advisor. But for now, I'm looking forward to spending time with my loved ones.

Howie Stone, Kansas City Star: How do you feel about the Kings moving to Kansas City?

Tom Barrell: It's bittersweet. Brooklyn has been home for so many of us, and it will always hold a special place in my heart. But I'm optimistic about the move to Kansas City. It's a great city with passionate fans, and I believe the Kings will continue to thrive there.

Howie Stone, Kansas City Star: And you retiring has nothing to do with not wanting to move to Kansas City?

Tom Barrell: Wow, I thought the New York media was tough. No, in all seriousness, that was not the major reason. I won't lie and say it wasn't a factor, but the primary reason was just as I said: I want to spend more time with my family. Baseball's been my whole life since the time I started walking. I'm 43 and about to become a first-time father. That changes your perspective. And as I said above, Kansas City is a great baseball town. I had the privilege of playing there both on the way up - with Milwaukee - and on the way down - with St. Paul. The Kings couldn't have chosen a better place for their new home.

Jack Brinker, NY Herald Tribune: Any final thoughts or messages for the Kings' fans here in New York?

Tom Barrell: Just a heartfelt thank you. Your support has meant the world to me and the team. Keep cheering for the Kings—they're in good hands with Dud at the helm. And remember, no matter where they play, they'll always carry a piece of Brooklyn with them.

Kings PR Manager: Thank you, Tom, and thank you all for being here today. This concludes the press conference.

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Tom Barrell speaks at his retirement presser, 1951
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[legendsport]

November 10, 1951: Tallahassee, FL

The afternoon sun hung low over the field as the Noble Jones College Colonels faced off against the Western Florida Wolves in a Deep South Conference game. The air was thick with the anticipation of a tight contest, but as the game unfolded, it became a showcase of one man’s relentless drive against adversity.

Charlie Barrell, quarterback for the Colonels, was a study in motion, his lean frame darting and weaving behind a line more porous than a sieve. Early in the first quarter, he snapped the ball and almost instantly had to sidestep a blitzing linebacker. With a quick pivot and a burst of speed, he turned a sure sack into a twenty-yard scramble, setting the tone for the day.

“Barrell’s on his own again,” the announcer’s voice crackled over the loudspeaker, as Charlie set up for another play.

On the sidelines, Coach Donnelly wiped his brow, muttering under his breath about the offensive line’s inability to hold their blocks. But Charlie, undeterred, called the plays with a calm that belied the chaos around him.

Midway through the second quarter, facing third and long, Charlie took the snap and rolled to his right, narrowly avoiding a tackle. He lobbed a perfect pass downfield, only to see it slip through his receiver’s fingers. Frustration flashed across his face, but he jogged back to the huddle, ready to go again.

Despite the dropped passes and hurried plays, the Colonels eked out a field goal before halftime and led 3-0. The Wolves’ offense, on the other hand, was a mess of missed opportunities and turnovers, their quarterback never finding his rhythm against the Colonels' defense. The Wolves fans in attendance voiced their displeasure while the hardy backers of Noble Jones who'd made the trip from Augusta were also muted due to the sloppy play.

The second half was more of the same. Charlie engineered a masterful drive late in the third quarter, capped off by a bullet pass to “Slick” Rodgers in the end zone for a touchdown. The extra point was good, and the Colonels extended their lead to 10-0.

As the final quarter ticked down, Charlie managed one more scoring drive, a mix of his running and smart, accurate passes that culminated in another touchdown, this one a seven yard run by Charlie himself. With the score at 17-0 and the Wolves’ spirit broken, Charlie found himself on the sidelines, watching the clock run down.

“That’s how you do it, boys!” Coach Donnelly bellowed, clapping Charlie on the back as he came off the field. Charlie sat on the bench amidst his linemen, slapping them on the knee and complimenting them in hopes of keeping their morale up. Everyone knew Donnelly would tear into the group after the euphoria of victory had worn off.

Then, a familiar voice sliced through the buzz of the crowd. “Charlie!”

Turning, Charlie saw his mother, Dorothy Bates, standing at the front of the stands, her face lit up with excitement. Still stunningly beautiful in her forties, Charlie fought down a twinge of resentment. His teammates could be brutal about Charlie's "starlet" mother. Beside her was a distinguished-looking man in a sharp suit, his posture straight as an arrow, a stark contrast to the raucous football crowd. He looked familiar and Charlie wondered if he was the latest in her string of B-list actor boyfriends, though he was older than most.

“Mom? What in the world are you doing here in Florida?” Charlie jogged over, his helmet swinging in his hand.

Dorothy’s smile was wide as she replied, “I wanted you to meet Tom. We’ve been seeing each other, and well, he wanted to meet you too.”

Tom extended his hand, his grip firm. “Charlie, I’m Thomas X. Bigsby. I’ve been following your career. I own the Los Angeles Tigers, and I’d be keen to have you play for us after college.”

Charlie’s brow furrowed. “Mr. Bigsby, I appreciate that, but I haven’t decided on playing professional football yet.” He swallowed down that thought that he was eagerly looking forward to basketball season. Unlike the Colonels' gridiron squad, their basketball team was a powerhouse and Charlie was a starting guard.

Bigsby laughed, a rich, booming sound. “With the Tigers, you’d have an offensive line that can block and receivers who actually catch the ball,” he jested, but his eyes were sharp, assessing. Charlie knew of this "white sheep" of the Bigsby familar, so called because of his being a career military man before moving into sports after retiring from the Army in the wake of the Second World War.

Charlie swallowed a twinge of discomfort, wondering about the true nature of Bigsby’s interest in his mother. He managed a polite smile, “I’ll think about it, sir. But for now, my focus is here with the Colonels.”

As they parted, Charlie couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling. Deciding to seek advice, he planned to call his uncle Dan as soon as he was back at the hotel. Uncle Dan, along with Aunt Gladys, had always provided him with grounded, honest counsel—something he felt he needed now more than ever.

Walking back to the locker room under the fading light, Charlie mulled over the day's events, both on the field and off. It had been a day of victories, yet the game had just changed in a way he hadn't anticipated.

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Charlie Barrell runs the ball against Western Florida, 1951
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[legendsport]

November 12, 1951: Washington, DC:

Harry Barrell sat back in his chair at the hotel bar, nursing a drink and taking in the atmosphere of his first FABL Winter Meetings. The room buzzed with a mix of voices, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. His brother Fred, sitting across from him, offered a wry smile.

"I had no idea what went on at these things," Harry confessed.

Fred smirked. "That's common among players. The powers-that-be like to keep it that way. I had the same revelation when I first attended as the scouting director for the Dynamos."

Fred pointed out several distinct groups in the bar. "First, there's us, the skippers." He nodded towards a corner where Sailors manager Billy Rose was regaling fellow managers Bud Jameson (Gothams), Dick York (Dynamos), and Max Wilder (Cougars) with stories. Other managers sat at nearby tables, engaged in quiet conversations.

"Over there," Fred continued, nodding towards an area near the door, "are the GMs and the scouting directors."

Harry noted the smaller number of people in that area. "There aren't that many over there," he remarked.

Fred nodded. "Some of them are holed up in one of the conference rooms or the restaurant. They're always talking deals, even if very few actually happen. Most of it is groundwork for potential deals down the road."

Fred then gestured towards the back of the room. "And then we have the real power in the room," he said, indicating a group of ten or so club owners. Seeing Harry look in her direction, Ruth Barton smiled and raised her martini in greeting. Harry nodded politely in return.

Fred seized the opportunity to dig into his brother's situation. "So, what's going on there?" he asked.

Harry sighed. "Sarah thinks Ruth is after me... you know, romantically."

Fred grinned, taking a pull of his beer. "I think she might be right."

Harry groaned. "Nothing's going to happen, Fred. I love Sarah and our kids. I wouldn't jeopardize that."

Fred raised an eyebrow, a skeptical look on his face. "You're a ballplayer, Harry. We both know Joe and Tom were inveterate women chasers."

Harry protested. "Most of us are faithful, right? You’re faithful to your wife."

Fred nodded, conceding the point. "Just checking."

Harry, eager to change the subject, asked, "Where's Dan?"

Fred smiled. "Dan lives here in DC. He just goes home. He's the League President; that's his prerogative." He then nodded towards a group of attractive women hovering near the owners. Harry, recognizing the dynamic, chuckled. "No surprise there," he said.

"Too bad Tommy's not here," Harry remarked.

Fred, surprised, asked, "What do you mean, given our recent topic of conversation?"

Harry shook his head. "No, not that. I think his days as 'Tomcat' are over. I just mean it’d be nice to have him here too."

Fred agreed, adding, "Tommy is where he wants to be - with his wife."

A sparkle appeared in Fred's eye. "I have an idea," he said, his voice filled with mischief. He suggested they switch rooms. "Tillie's with me, I'll have her answer the door," Fred said with a smirk. "She'll give Ruthie the what-for."

Harry laughed, then demurred. He said, "That's just the kind of prank I'd love, but I think it's time I handled this."

"You sure?" Fred asked, adding with a glance at Ruthie, "She is quite a beautiful woman...."

"You're not wrong, but I'm going to do what's right," Harry said, then finished his drink.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that night, Ruth Barton, visibly tipsy, walked down one of the hotel's hallways, peering at door numbers. She stopped in front of one, smiled, and knocked. From inside, a male voice responded indistinctly.

Ruth swayed slightly, giggling as she steadied herself. "It’s Ruthie," she called out, her voice playful.

The door opened slowly, revealing a surprised but composed Harry. He stepped aside to let her in. "Ruthie, what brings you here?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light despite the awkwardness of the situation.

Ruth stepped into the room, her eyes slightly glazed. "I wanted to see you, Harry," she said, her voice slurring slightly.

Harry closed the door behind her, glancing around to make sure no one had seen. "Ruth, you’ve had too much to drink," he said gently. "Let's get you back to your room."

Ruth pouted, taking a step closer to Harry. "I don’t want to go back to my room," she said softly.

Harry sighed, taking her by the arm and guiding her to a chair. "Sit here for a moment, Ruth. Let me get you some water."

As Harry turned to get a glass of water, Ruth reached out, grabbing his hand. "Harry, don’t you like me?" she asked, her eyes pleading.

Harry crouched down to her level, his expression serious. "Ruth, you’re a beautiful woman. But I love my wife, and I won’t do anything to jeopardize my family."

Ruth’s eyes filled with tears, and she nodded slowly. "I understand, Harry. I just... I just wanted to be close to you."

Harry handed her the glass of water, watching as she took a sip. "Drink this, and then I'll walk you back to your room."

After a few moments, Ruth seemed to regain some composure. Harry helped her to her feet, and they walked down the hallway together. As they reached Ruth’s door, she turned to him, her expression apologetic. "I’m sorry, Harry. I shouldn’t have come here."

Harry smiled gently. "It’s okay, Ruth. Just get some rest, alright?"

Ruth nodded, fumbling with her key before finally opening the door. "Goodnight, Harry," she said softly.

"Goodnight, Ruth," Harry replied, watching as she disappeared into her room.

As he walked back to his own room, Harry couldn’t help but think about the unexpected twists his life had taken. Managing a baseball team was one thing, but navigating the complexities of human relationships was a challenge all its own.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ruth Barton, at the 1951 Winter Meetings
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[legendsport]

December 15, 1951: Birmingham, AL:

Rollie Barrell took a deep breath, finding it hard to begin. The weight of the moment pressed on him as he looked out over the gathering. His gaze first settled on his wife, Francie, sitting in the front row. Beside her were Betty Daniels and her son Rufus, who had been named after Rollie’s own father. They, along with many others, were here to pay their respects and say goodbye to Rollie’s namesake: Roland "Possum" Daniels who had passed away at the age of 81.

Roscoe, better known as "Cooter" Daniels (Rollie wondered if anyone in that family used their actual Christian name), sat beside his nephew. Cooter was flanked by his wife, daughter, son-in-law, and grandson. But then Rollie’s eyes caught on someone unexpected: Vera Barrell. Jack’s youngest daughter was sitting with the Daniels family. Confusion added to the already complex emotions swirling inside him. Why was Vera sitting with them? Jack himself was not there—it was hockey season, and he had a team to coach.

Rollie’s gaze swept over the crowd, a collection of familiar faces. Powell Slocum, his wife Claudia, and their son James Slocum were present, the latter accompanied by his wife Rose and their two young children. Dan Barrell was also in attendance, representing not only FABL but also paying his respects to the man who had been more than just Rufus Barrell’s best friend. The sight of Dan sparked Rollie’s resolve, giving him the push he needed to start speaking.

"Rollie Daniels, or Possum as we knew him, was the most... unique individual I have ever met," Rollie began, a smile playing on his lips. "I'm named after him, and Possum’s son is named after my father, so to say that Rollie Daniels was more than a 'family friend' might be the understatement of the century."

There was a soft murmur of agreement, and Rollie continued. "Possum was like an uncle to the Barrell boys. He offered wise, and very much homespun, wisdom to all of us. From Joe, who needed a lot of guidance..." Chuckles rippled through the crowd, particularly from Dan, Fred, Tom, Bobby, and Harry. "...to helping teach Fred to catch, Tom to fish... Though Tommy never listened to anyone about pitching, except maybe our Pop, though Lord knows, Possum tried." More laughter followed. "He even worked with Bobby on his swing, although as Possum put it, 'Hitting on that side of the plate is an affront to nature, son!'—since Rollie himself hit right-handed and could never understand a southpaw."

Powell Slocum, himself a lefty, nodded with a smile. Rollie caught the gesture and continued, "Professionally, Possum was the self-styled 'King of the Bushes'—a catcher whose skills never quite lived up to his knowledge and acumen. He made a pretty good bush-league manager and an even better professional scout. If my father were here, he’d tell you that Possum forgot more about baseball than most everyone else ever knew."

Rollie paused, gathering his thoughts as the crowd’s laughter subsided into warm, reflective smiles. "Possum was the real deal, and he told you the truth, though oftentimes not in words or phrases you could readily understand. Like a treasure chest, they needed to be carefully unpacked," Rollie said, prompting more laughter. "But he always, and I mean always, accentuated the positive. No matter what mayhem my brothers and I might have gotten up to on the farm, when Possum was there, he’d lift us up, dust us off, and more often than not, keep our misdeeds secret from my parents. They’re not here, so I can finally tell the truth!"

The crowd erupted in good-natured laughter. Rollie let the sound wash over him before delivering the final, heartfelt words. "A finer man has never put on the 'tools of ignorance,' and I know I speak for everyone here when I say that Possum’s passing has left a hole that can never be filled."

Later, as the gathering dispersed, Rollie sought out the answer to the question that had nagged him during the service: why was Vera Barrell sitting with the Daniels family? It didn’t take long to unravel the mystery. Cooter’s daughter had married a man named Ewell Daughtry, and their son—Stuart Daughtry—was studying architecture at Detroit City College. Vera Barrell was also studying at DCC, and she was dating Stu Daughtry, all without knowing the connection (labyrinthine though it was) between their families.

In another connection between the Barrell & Daniels clans, Cooter’s son, Jim Bob Daniels, was married to Joe Barrell’s first wife, Edna. They, too, were in attendance at the funeral, along with Edna’s older children, Deuce and Gloria Barrell, and their spouses and children.

The realization of just how vast the Barrell clan had become struck Rollie with full force. He reflected on how unlikely it all must have seemed to the young Rufus Barrell when he first struck up a conversation with the "citified" Alice Reid way back in 1890. Now, generations later, the family had grown and intertwined with so many others in ways Rufus himself might never have imagined.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rollie "Possum" Daniels (l) and Rufus Barrell, Savannah, GA, 1891
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[legendsport]

December 29, 1951: Washington, DC:

The phone rang loudly in the Barrell household, cutting through the quiet of the afternoon. Mike and Steve, the 18- and 15-year-old sons of Dan and Gladys Barrell, exchanged glances from their spots in the family living room. Mike, sprawled on the couch with a comic book, raised an eyebrow, while Steve, tinkering with the camera he'd received for Christmas, shrugged.

Gladys walked into the room, her expression a mix of irritation and amusement. She glared at her sons before picking up the receiver. "Hello?" she answered, her tone carrying clear exasperation.

"Mrs. Barrell, is your husband home?" a male voice asked on the other end.

"Who may I say is calling?" Gladys asked, her irritation giving way to curiosity. Dan rarely received calls at home.

"This is Bill Whitney, Mrs. Barrell. It's FABL business," the man replied.

Gladys’ eyes widened slightly. Bill Whitney was the owner of the Chicago Chiefs, one of Dan's strongest allies among what he often called "that bickering nest of vipers," also known as the FABL club owners.

"One moment, Mr. Whitney. Dan is walking the dog. I'll see if he's on his way back."

Covering the receiver with her hand, she shot a look at Steve. "Go outside and see if your father is nearby. He should probably take this call," she said.

Steve opened his mouth, ready to ask why Mike couldn't do it, but thought better of it when he caught the look in his mother's eye. "Okay," he muttered, pulling on his coat from the rack by the door and stepping out into the cold winter morning.

A minute later, Steve returned, with Dan in tow and the family dog shaking off snow onto the small rug inside the door. Normally, Gladys would have chided Dan for not brushing off the dog outside, but this time she held her tongue. Instead, she handed him the phone, her voice calm but firm. "Bill Whitney for you."

Dan frowned slightly as he took the receiver. "Bill? Happy holidays, how are you?"

He listened for a moment, and his frown deepened into a look of anger. Gladys, standing close by, felt a knot of anxiety tighten in her stomach.

"When?" Dan barked into the phone, his voice rising.

He listened again, his face darkening further. "And they don't want me there? I won't even have a chance to speak for myself?"

Gladys could feel the tension radiating from him as he gripped the phone, his knuckles turning white. Even the boys exchanged uneasy glances as they watched their father, usually so composed, struggle to keep his anger in check.

"Okay, Bill. Thanks for letting me know," Dan said through clenched teeth before hanging up the phone with a controlled, yet forceful motion.

Turning to Gladys, he took a deep breath, visibly trying to regain his composure. "Let’s hear it," she said, her voice resigned.

"There’s been an owners' meeting called. They want to oust me as FABL President," Dan said, his face flushing with anger again.

"Why? I thought things were going well," Gladys replied, her surprise evident.

"Oh, they are. Financially, the game is thriving. We don’t have any major on- or off-field issues."

"Then why are they trying to fire you?" she asked, noting the way Dan winced at the word "fire."

Dan glanced at Mike, who, like Steve, looked thoroughly confused. There was a tinge of sadness in Dan's voice as he answered. "They say I have a conflict of interest. Actually, several."

Now it was Gladys’ turn to get angry. "What conflicts of interest?"

"Well, there's the fact that two of my brothers are managers and two others are players, as are two of my nephews."

"But that's nothing new. Why is it suddenly a problem?"

Dan sighed. "It isn’t just that. There are two new developments. First, Rollie wants to buy the Dynamos from the Thompson family."

Gladys looked surprised. "When did he decide that?"

"He mentioned it to me last month, said he was thinking about getting into baseball, but didn’t give any details. Rollie’s always looking for ways to expand his business interests."

Gladys shook her head in disbelief. "He probably should have told you it was more than just a passing thought."

Dan nodded. "I agree, but frankly, I'm surprised Junior—Powell Thompson Jr., I mean—would even consider selling. And Rollie told me he’d probably have to sell the basketball team to free up the cash to buy the Dynamos." He paused, taking a deep breath. "But that’s not the only issue Bill Whitney mentioned."

Gladys' brow furrowed. "What else?"

Dan hesitated, looking sheepish. "I talked to Max Morris about Mike."

Mike’s eyes widened, his mouth dropping open in shock. Gladys, however, instantly grasped the implications and her anger flared.

"What exactly did you talk to him about?" she demanded.

"Getting Mike an appointment to Rome State," Dan said, trying to keep his tone calm.

"And you did that without asking me?" Gladys snapped.

"Mike wants to explore a military career, and he’s 18 now. I didn’t see the harm in talking to Morris about it."

"I thought you hated him," Gladys said, her voice still sharp.

"That was a long time ago," Dan pointed out, his tone softening. He recalled the years of tension with Morris, who had then been a skirt-chasing superstar outfielder who'd set his lusftful gaze on Claudia, who at the time had just been widowed following Dan's brother Jimmy’s death. Dan had a serious crush on Claudia himself and had taken an instant dislike to the wolfish Morris. "He was a blowhard then, and he’s a blowhard now. But he’s a blowhard with influence, and he knows my family."

"What did he say?" Gladys asked, her anger still simmering.

"He said he’d think about it, that he had several good candidates in his own district, so he could make no promises. The only reason I asked is because we live in DC and don’t have our own Representative. I probably should have asked someone else. Lord knows I know plenty of members of both the House and Senate now."

Gladys turned her gaze to Mike. "And you… Did you know about this?"

Mike shook his head vehemently. "Dad didn’t tell me he talked to Morris, I swear. But he’s right—I do want to go to Rome State and become an Army officer."

Dan’s voice was flat as he added, "Morris stabbed me in the back. He went straight to Bernie Millard. That old s.o.b. has been gunning for me since day one. Now he has the ammunition he needs."

Gladys rubbed her temples, trying to process everything. "When is this meeting?"

"Next week, right after New Year’s," Dan replied. "It’s a full owners’ meeting, and I’m not permitted to attend. It was supposed to be a secret, but most of the owners figured Bill would tip me off."

"And there’s nothing you can do?" Gladys asked, her tone blunt.

"Unfortunately, no," Dan admitted. "We just have to hope the vote fails, although…" Dan trailed off, his voice heavy with uncertainty.

"Although what?" Gladys pressed.

Dan sighed deeply. "Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing if the vote passed. I’m not sure I’m cut out to deal with those…"

"Vipers?" Steve offered quietly.

Dan let out a forced laugh. "Exactly."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

US Congressional Photo of Max Morris, 1952
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[legendsport]

January 4, 1952: Boston, MA:

The late afternoon sun slanted through the windows of Harry Barrell’s cozy suburban home, casting long shadows across the hardwood floors. The house was quiet, a rare moment of peace with Sarah out running errands and the kids at school. Harry had just settled into his favorite armchair with the sports section when the doorbell rang.

He frowned, setting the newspaper aside as he stood. Unexpected visitors were uncommon this time of day, and the last thing he wanted was another impromptu meeting or, worse, a fan who'd somehow tracked him down. But when he opened the door, he was met with a sight that set his nerves on edge.

Reginald Barton stood on the porch, his tall frame blocking the sunlight. Dressed in a sharp gray suit that seemed too tight around the collar, Reggie had a smile that didn’t reach his eyes—a smile that made Harry’s skin crawl.

"Reg," Harry greeted cautiously, forcing a casual tone. "What brings you here?"

Reggie’s smile widened, though it still looked more like a sneer. "Can I come in, Harry? We need to have a little chat."

Harry stepped aside, his gut telling him this wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation. Reggie sauntered in, his eyes sweeping over the modest furnishings with an air of condescension that Harry couldn’t ignore.

"Nice place," Reggie commented as he took a seat on the sofa, crossing one leg over the other. "Cozy."

"Thanks," Harry replied, his patience already wearing thin. "What’s this about, Reggie?"

Reggie didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached into the inner pocket of his suit and pulled out a small envelope, tapping it against his knee as if savoring the moment. Finally, he tossed it onto the coffee table, the envelope landing with a soft thud.

Harry stared at it, a sinking feeling in his stomach. "What’s this?"

"Go ahead," Reggie said, gesturing to the envelope. "Take a look."

With a sense of dread, Harry picked up the envelope and pulled out a stack of glossy photos. The first one stopped him cold: it was a clear shot of Ruth Barton entering his hotel room at the Winter Meetings. The subsequent photos showed her inside the room, though they were less clear about what was happening beyond her presence. The last photo was the most damning—it captured Harry at the door, looking surprised as Ruth walked in.

He felt his pulse quicken, anger bubbling up beneath the surface. "What the hell is this, Reggie?"

Reggie leaned back, his grin returning. "Just a little something I thought you should see. You know, as a courtesy."

"A courtesy?" Harry’s voice was low and dangerous. "This looks more like blackmail to me."

Reggie’s laughter was sharp and humorless. "Oh, Harry, blackmail is so crass. No, I’m not asking you for anything. Consider this a warning."

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion. "A warning? About what?"

Reggie’s expression darkened, the playful facade slipping. "My sister, Harry. Ruth’s been playing at being Daddy’s little princess for far too long. And our father, bless his old-fashioned heart, seems to think she’s the future of the ballclub. But this…" He gestured to the photos. "This is the kind of thing that could ruin her. If this gets out, her judgment will be called into question, and I’ll be the one left standing."

Harry felt a cold sweat break out across his forehead. "You’re going to use this against your own sister? To take over the team?"

Reggie shrugged, completely unbothered. "You’ve got to break a few eggs, Harry. And let’s be honest, Ruth isn’t exactly fit to run a ballclub. She’s too soft, too sentimental."

Harry’s anger flared. "Nothing happened between us, Reggie. This is all a misunderstanding."

Reggie’s eyes gleamed with malicious satisfaction. "The truth doesn’t matter, Harry. It’s the perception that counts. And once this gets out… well, you can imagine the headlines."

Harry’s mind raced. He had to do something, had to stop this before it spiraled out of control. "Reggie, please. Don’t do this. It’ll ruin her. It'll ruin my marriage. It’ll ruin everything."

Reggie stood, straightening his suit jacket with a practiced air. "Too late for that, sorry." He turned towards the door, pausing only to toss a parting comment over his shoulder. "Just thought I’d give you a heads-up. Consider it a kindness."

Harry stood frozen in place as Reggie walked out, the door closing with a quiet click. The reality of what had just happened began to sink in, and panic set in. He had to find a way to stop Reggie—had to protect Ruth, Sarah, and himself from this impending disaster.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening again. He looked up to see Sarah walking in, a bright smile on her face. But as she crossed the threshold, her smile faltered, replaced by a look of concern as she noticed the tension in Harry’s posture.

"Harry, what’s wrong?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry.

Before he could respond, she noticed the photos on the coffee table. Her face paled as she picked up the envelope and began flipping through the pictures. Her hand trembled slightly as she looked up at Harry, confusion and hurt in her eyes.

"Harry… what is this?"

Harry opened his mouth to explain, but the words wouldn’t come. He felt like the walls were closing in, the air thick with the weight of the accusations these photos implied.

"Sarah, I can explain," he finally managed to say, though the words sounded hollow even to his own ears.

Sarah stared at him, waiting for an explanation that could somehow make this all go away. But deep down, Harry knew that nothing he could say would ever fully erase the doubt that Reggie had planted with those damning images.

And as he stood there, desperately searching for the right words, the full scope of what Reggie had set in motion began to sink in, leaving Harry with the sickening realization that his life had just changed in ways he could never have imagined.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sarah Barrell, 1952
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[legendsport]

January 7, 1952: Washington, DC;

The headline said it all: "Magnates to Barrell: You're Out!"

Dan Barrell sat at his desk, the afternoon sun filtering through the tall windows of his office, casting long shadows that seemed to grow with the weight of the news. The morning had been a blur of tension, every minute dragging on as if he were waiting for a sentence to be handed down. And now it had been.

The phone call from Bill Whitney had confirmed what he feared. "I'm sorry, Dan," Whitney had said, his voice heavy with regret. "I don't know how Millard did it, but he got 13 votes to replace you as President."

"Which three voted for me?" Dan had asked, the words coming out more hollow than he intended.

"Well, me, of course, plus Tom Bigsby and Calvin Stockdale," Whitney replied. There was a pause before he continued, "I have to give it to Stockdale. You can tell he has that same hard-ass military background his father did. He really read the riot act to everyone. I think even Bigsby was impressed, and he worked for Patton during the war. But Millard got his way. Now we have to figure out where we go from here."

Dan sat there, the receiver still pressed to his ear, his mind swirling with thoughts. Where does FABL go from here? His father's voice echoed in his mind, a steadying presence even now. Not your problem. Hold your head high, Danny, even in defeat. Rufus Barrell had always been a pillar of strength, a man whose advice was as solid as the foundation he’d built his life upon. Dan missed him deeply, never more than at that moment.

He thanked Bill, his voice subdued, and hung up the phone. The silence of the office, once a comforting space filled with the hum of work and the occasional burst of conversation, now felt oppressive. He looked around at the room that had been his professional home for the past two years. The walls, adorned with photographs and memorabilia, bore witness to the victories and challenges he’d faced. But now, it was time to leave.

With a sigh, Dan reached for the boxes he’d brought in that morning, a precaution he’d hoped wouldn’t be necessary. He began packing, each item reminding him of the journey he’d taken as FABL President. The World Championship plaque from his days with the Kings, a singed cleat courtesy of one of Harry's patented hotfoot pranks, the signed baseball from his brother Tom’s first game as a manager—each one a piece of the life he was now leaving behind.

As he carefully placed a framed photograph of his parents into the box, Helen Johnson, his secretary, entered the room. Her face was a mixture of sorrow and understanding. "Mr. Barrell, I’m so sorry," she said, her voice soft.

Dan managed a small smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "Thank you, Helen," he replied, his voice catching slightly. He'd miss Helen, with her no-nonsense demeanor and sharp efficiency. She had been more than a secretary; she had been a steadfast ally. Now, without this job, he realized he wouldn't need a secretary anymore.

As Helen quietly exited the room, Dan paused, the reality of the situation sinking in. What’s next? The thought had been gnawing at him since he’d gotten the call. The Omni Scouting Association, once his pride and joy, was now in the capable hands of Cliff Ray, the former big league catcher Gladys had helped pick to succeed him. There was no going back there. Coaching? Scouting? The idea of working for one of the very teams whose owners had just ousted him left a bitter taste in his mouth.

With his most cherished belongings packed in the boxes, Dan left the office, handing the keys to Helen. "The rest of it... I’ll have it packed and sent over," she assured him.

Dan nodded, thankful for her continued professionalism even as he felt the sting of loss. "Thanks, Helen," he said simply before turning and walking out of the office for the last time.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Dan arrived home, the house was unusually quiet. Gladys and the boys must have been waiting for the news all day, just as he had. As soon as he stepped inside, he was met with the warm, concerned faces of his family. Gladys wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug, while Mike and Steve stood by, their expressions a mix of sympathy and uncertainty.

"How did it go?" Gladys asked softly, pulling back to search his face.

Dan sighed, setting down the boxes. "It’s over. They voted me out—13 to 3."

Gladys’ face tightened, and she shook her head in disbelief. "Those fools don’t know what they’re losing."

Mike and Steve both looked uncomfortable, unsure of what to say. They had never seen their father like this—defeated, tired, and clearly struggling to keep it together.

At dinner that evening, the mood was somber. The usual lively chatter was subdued, and even the clinking of silverware seemed muted. Mike, in an effort to lighten the atmosphere, picked up the sports section of the newspaper. But just as Gladys was about to scold him for reading at the table, he suddenly sat up straighter, his eyes wide.

"Hey, Dad, look at this!" Mike exclaimed, holding out the paper.

Gladys, who had just opened her mouth to reprimand Mike, stopped short. "What’s got you so excited?" she asked, curiosity piqued.

Mike handed the paper to his father, pointing to a small tidbit buried in a sidebar. Dan, disinterested at first, took a glance, but then something caught his eye, and he perked up.

"Huh," he murmured, his brow furrowing in thought.

Gladys, her patience wearing thin, leaned over to see what had grabbed Dan’s attention. "What is it?"

Mike answered for him, his voice eager. "Chicago Poly just fired their athletic director!"

A grin slowly spread across Gladys’ face. "That’d be much closer to my family."

Dan shook his head, already tempering the spark of interest that had flared up. "I don’t even know if they’d interview me."

"It’s worth a shot," Mike said, trying to sound encouraging. But his enthusiasm was interrupted by Steve, who had been quiet throughout the meal.

"I don’t want to leave Capitol Academy," Steve said, frowning.

This sparked a debate around the table. Mike, naturally, was all for the idea, seeing it as a fresh start for his father and an exciting new chapter for the family. Gladys, too, seemed to be warming to the notion, envisioning them living closer to her family in Indiana.

Dan, however, found himself torn. The initial excitement had already begun to wear off as reality set in. Moving to Chicago would mean uprooting their lives, and there was no guarantee he’d even get the job. And Steve’s reluctance weighed heavily on him. Capitol Academy had been good for the boys, especially for Steve, who had found his stride there.

Gladys leaned in, her voice gentle but insistent. "You should at least pursue it, Dan. Chicago Poly is your alma mater. You were a track & field star there, a football hero. You even went to the Olympics in ’24. And you've run both the OSA and FABL. They’d be lucky to have you."

Dan sighed, looking at the hopeful faces of his wife and elder son, then at the worried expression on Steve’s face. It was a lot to take in, but the idea was already taking root in his mind. Chicago Poly had been a pivotal part of his life. Could it be again?

"Maybe you’re right," Dan finally said, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I’ll reach out, see if there’s a chance."

The decision was met with cautious optimism. Gladys smiled, placing her hand over his. "No matter what happens, we’ll figure it out together."

Dan nodded, feeling a small glimmer of hope amidst the turmoil. Maybe this wasn’t the end—just the beginning of a new chapter he hadn’t seen coming.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dan and Gladys Barrell at home, December 1951
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[legendsport]

January 21, 1952: Egypt, GA:

The red Georgia clay crunched under Fred Barrell's boots as he walked down the narrow path that led from the old farmhouse to the gleaming new structure that had risen on the horizon: Effingham Speedway. The air was cool, a rarity for the South even in January, and it carried the faint scent of pine and earth, mixing with the distant roar of engines being tuned up for the upcoming season.

Fred had been here for nearly a week, staying with his nephew James Slocum and his family in the farmhouse that had once been his childhood home. It was a good place to clear his head after the whirlwind events of the past few days. Resigning from the Toronto Wolves had been difficult, but in the end, it felt like the right decision. The uncertainty and underhanded moves by Bernie Millard had worn him down, and after what had happened to his brother Dan, Fred knew he couldn’t stay.

But what came next? That was the question that gnawed at him as he took in the sight of the speedway, still feeling surreal against the familiar backdrop of the Georgia countryside.

James had done well for himself. The speedway was the first paved track in the National Automobile Racing Federation, a bold move that was already drawing attention from racing fans across the country. The track was impressive, a testament to James's vision and tenacity, and Fred couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride for his nephew.

As he approached the grandstand, Fred spotted James standing near one of the garages, talking with a couple of mechanics. James noticed him and waved, a broad smile on his face. The young man jogged over, his excitement evident.

"Uncle Fred, you’re just in time," James said, clapping him on the shoulder. "We’re about to take one of the cars out for a spin. Want to come along?"

Fred chuckled. "I think I’ll stay on solid ground for now, thanks. But I’ll watch from the sidelines."

James grinned. "Suit yourself, but you’re missing out." He paused, then added more seriously, "I’m glad you’re here, Uncle Fred. I know things have been tough lately."

Fred nodded, appreciating the sentiment. "Yeah, it’s been a bit of a whirlwind. But this place... it’s impressive, James. You’ve really built something special here."

"Thanks," James said, his expression softening. "It means a lot, coming from you. Listen, I’ve been thinking... I could use a partner. Someone who knows how to handle things, keep the operation running smoothly. And I can’t think of anyone better than you."

Fred raised an eyebrow. "Me? A racing promoter?"

James laughed. "Why not? You’ve got the smarts for it. And I’ve always thought you had a good head for business, even if you were wrapped up in baseball."

Fred smiled but didn’t answer right away. He was tempted, sure. But there were other factors at play—Tillie, the kids, the life they’d built in Toronto. And then there was Jack Carlisle, who had appeared out of nowhere a few days ago with a very different kind of proposition. The CIA... Fred hadn’t told anyone about that yet, not even James.

Before he could say anything, the roar of an engine echoed across the track. One of James’s cars shot out of the garage and onto the track, tires squealing as it accelerated down the straightaway. Fred watched it go, feeling a mix of admiration and trepidation.

"You’ve got a good thing going here, James," Fred finally said, turning back to his nephew. "But I’m not sure if it’s the right fit for me. I need some time to think about it."

James nodded, his expression understanding. "Take all the time you need. The offer’s open, whenever you’re ready."

Fred spent the rest of the day at the speedway, watching the cars circle the track and talking with the crew. By the time evening rolled around, he felt a bit more at ease. The weight of his decision still pressed on him, but being around family, seeing the fruits of James’s labor, had been good for his soul.

Later that night, back at the farmhouse, Fred found himself sitting on the porch with a glass of bourbon in hand. The night was cool and clear, the sky full of stars. The sounds of crickets and the occasional distant engine drifted through the air. It reminded him of the simpler times before the war, before baseball had become a business instead of just a game.

As he sat there, lost in thought, a familiar voice broke the silence.

"Mind if I join you?" Jack Carlisle stepped out of the shadows, his presence as sudden and unexpected as it had been days before.

Fred looked up, surprised but not entirely shocked. "You’re like a ghost, Jack. Always showing up when I least expect it."

Carlisle chuckled and sat down beside him. "Old habits die hard. You’ve had some time to think, Fred. Any closer to a decision?"

Fred swirled the bourbon in his glass, considering his words. "I’m tempted, Jack. You know I am. But... I’ve got a family to think about. Tillie... she’s not going to be thrilled about me jumping back into the spy game."

Carlisle nodded, his expression serious. "I understand that. And I wouldn’t push you if I didn’t think it was important. The world’s changing, Fred. The stakes are high, and we need people we can trust."

Fred sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I know. And that’s what makes it so damn hard."

They sat in silence for a while, the night enveloping them in its quiet embrace. Finally, Carlisle stood up, placing a hand on Fred’s shoulder.

"Take your time, old friend. But don’t take too long. The world’s not waiting."

With that, Carlisle slipped back into the shadows, leaving Fred alone with his thoughts once again.

The next morning, Fred packed his bags and said his goodbyes to James and his family. He promised to stay in touch and to seriously consider James’s offer. But as he drove away from the farmhouse, the weight of his decision still hung heavy in the air.

January 22, 1952: Toronto, ON

When Fred returned to Toronto, the city felt colder, more distant. It wasn’t just the weather; it was the uncertainty that clung to him like a shadow. He pulled into the driveway of their home and sat in the car for a few moments, staring at the house where Tillie and the kids were waiting. He knew he had to talk to them, to lay out the choices before him. But he wasn’t sure how they’d react.

With a deep breath, Fred finally stepped out of the car and headed inside, determined to face whatever came next.

------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning Fred Barrell sat at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee as the morning light filtered through the frost-covered windows. Tillie bustled around the kitchen, preparing breakfast for their three children before they headed off to school. The clatter of plates and the hum of conversation filled the room, but Fred’s mind was elsewhere, turning over the decisions that lay ahead.

The time in Georgia had been both comforting and disorienting—comforting because it had brought him back to his roots, and disorienting because it had stirred up so many possibilities he hadn’t previously considered. The trip had left him with two distinct options: return to the world of intelligence with the CIA, or dive into the burgeoning world of stock car racing with his nephew James.

Fred took a sip of his coffee and glanced over at Tillie. She was in the middle of instructing Hobie on how to properly pack his lunch. It had been a conversation they’d had countless times before, but Fred couldn’t help but notice how easily Tillie handled the routine, how she kept everything in their household running smoothly even when his mind was miles away.

After Carlisle’s visit in Georgia, Fred had been torn. The idea of working with his old friend again had its appeal—there was a part of him that missed the adrenaline and the sense of purpose he’d felt during the war. But then, there was Tillie, who had made it abundantly clear after the war that she’d had enough of espionage and danger, enough of the uncertainty that came with it. Their children were growing up fast, and both Benny and Hobie had found their place in the world of hockey, which brought its own set of demands and commitments.

Fred’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door closing. Junior had already left for school, taking college classes in the offseason, and now Benny and Hobie were heading out, their voices echoing down the hallway as they debated the merits of snap shots versus wrist shots. Fred smiled despite himself—his sons were becoming just as passionate about hockey as they were about anything else, and it was clear they had potential in the sport.

Tillie sat down across from Fred with her own cup of coffee, studying his face for a moment before speaking. “You’ve been quiet since you got back from Georgia,” she said, her voice gentle but probing.

Fred sighed, running a hand through his hair. “There’s a lot on my mind, Tillie. I’ve got some big decisions to make, and I don’t want to rush into anything.”

Tillie nodded, taking a sip of her coffee. “I know. But you’ve never been one to sit still for long. What are you thinking?”

Fred hesitated for a moment, then decided it was time to lay it all out on the table. “Carlisle came to see me while I was in Georgia. He wants me to join him at the CIA.”

Tillie’s expression hardened slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line. “The CIA?” she asked, her voice carefully neutral. “You mean more of the same cloak-and-dagger stuff you did during the war?”

Fred nodded. “Yeah. He made a good case, Tillie. Said there’s a new threat out there, and I could be of use again.”

Tillie was quiet for a moment, staring into her coffee cup as if it held the answer to her thoughts. Finally, she looked up at Fred, her eyes firm. “Fred, we’ve been through enough. You’ve been through enough. I’m not sure I can go through that again—waiting, wondering, worrying if you’ll come back.”

“I know,” Fred said quietly. “And that’s why I haven’t made any decisions yet. There’s something else, too.”

“What is it?” Tillie asked, her tone softening slightly.

“James offered me a job with NARF,” Fred said. “He’s got a lot on his plate with his father-in-law being sick, and he could use a partner. He said he thinks I’d make a good businessman.”

Tillie raised an eyebrow, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “A businessman, huh? I can see that. You’ve always had a good head on your shoulders, Fred. But is that what you want?”

Fred leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling as if the answers were written up there. “I don’t know, Tillie. Part of me thinks it might be nice—something different, something away from baseball. But I’ve spent my whole life in sports. It’s what I know.”

“Maybe that’s exactly why it’s time for a change,” Tillie suggested. “You don’t have to decide right now, but whatever you choose, make sure it’s something you want, not just something you think you should do.”

Fred nodded slowly, appreciating Tillie’s wisdom as always. “You’re right. I need to figure this out, but I wanted to talk it over with you first. And the kids too. This decision affects all of us.”

“Good,” Tillie said, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. “We’ll figure it out together.”

The two of them sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Fred spoke again. “I think I’ll head over to the rink today, watch Benny and Hobie practice. See if that gives me some clarity.”

Tillie smiled. “You do that. And remember, whatever you decide, I’m with you.”

Fred finished his coffee and stood up, feeling a bit lighter than he had in weeks. He still had decisions to make, but with Tillie by his side, he knew he’d find the right path. As he grabbed his coat and headed for the door, he glanced back at her, grateful for the steady presence she had always been in his life.

Outside, the January air was crisp, and Fred took a deep breath, feeling the cold bite at his cheeks. He looked up at the gray sky, knowing that change was coming, but feeling ready to face it. One step at a time, he thought to himself as he made his way to the rink.

------------------------------------------------------------

Fred Barrell (l) talking with Jack Carlisle in 1952
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[legendsport]

February 7, 1952: Washington, DC:

The Barrell household in Washington, D.C. was unusually quiet as Dan sat at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of coffee. The morning sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow across the room, but it did little to lift the weight off his shoulders. Across from him, Gladys was flipping through the newspaper, though Dan could tell she was more focused on him than the headlines.

Mike and Steve, still groggy from sleep, shuffled into the kitchen. Steve was the first to speak, his voice thick with annoyance. "So, when are we leaving?"

Gladys looked up, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Good morning to you too, Steve."

"Morning," Mike grumbled, pulling out a chair and sitting down with a thud. "So, when do we go?"

Dan set his coffee cup down and looked at his sons. "We’ll be moving to Chicago in two weeks," he said, his voice calm but firm. "You’ll both need to get ready to start at your new schools."

Steve’s face fell, his shoulders slumping. "Mid-year, Dad? I’m gonna miss out on the basketball tournament, and Capitol’s baseball team is top in the nation."

Mike, though more composed, also wore a look of disappointment. "Yeah, it’s not ideal, but at least football season’s over for me."

Gladys reached across the table, placing a reassuring hand on Steve’s arm. "I know this is hard, sweetheart. But you’ll adjust. And Chicago has its own opportunities."

Steve frowned, crossing his arms. "I liked it here. Capitol Academy has the best basketball team I’ve ever played on. And I was really looking forward to baseball season. Now I have to start all over."

Dan watched his younger son, understanding the frustration he felt. "Steve, I get it. Leaving Capitol isn’t easy. But Chicago is where we need to be now. I wouldn’t have taken this job if I didn’t think it was the right move for all of us."

Mike looked at his father, curiosity piqued. "How did the interview go, Dad? They must’ve liked you to offer a five-year deal."

Dan leaned back in his chair, the memories of the interview flooding back. "It was... intense."

------------------------------------------------------------

Chicago, Two Days Earlier

Dan stood in front of the imposing oak doors of the conference room, adjusting his tie for what felt like the hundredth time. He took a deep breath and pushed the doors open, stepping into a room filled with stern-faced men seated around a long mahogany table. The Dean of Chicago Poly, Dr. Herbert Fletcher, sat at the head, flanked by members of the Board of Trustees. They all turned to face Dan as he entered, their expressions unreadable.

"Mr. Barrell," Dr. Fletcher greeted him with a nod. "Thank you for coming."

"Thank you for having me, Dr. Fletcher," Dan replied, taking a seat at the end of the table.

The room was silent for a moment, the weight of the situation settling in. Dan could feel the tension in the air as the men exchanged glances. Finally, one of the trustees, a man with thinning gray hair and sharp eyes, spoke up.

"Mr. Barrell, we’re impressed with your background. Your time as FABL President, your work with the OSA, and of course, your athletic achievements. But Chicago Poly is at a crossroads, and we need someone who can elevate our athletic programs to the next level."

Dan nodded, sensing the seriousness of the situation. "I understand, sir. Chicago Poly is my alma mater. This isn’t just another job for me; it’s a chance to give back to the place that gave me so much."

Dr. Fletcher leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "Our basketball program is struggling. It’s the only top-tier sport we have, and even that’s faltering. We’d like to see not just basketball, but football and baseball rise to prominence. We want Chicago Poly to compete at the highest levels."

Dan took a deep breath before replying. "I want that too. Bringing Poly to national prominence is something I would love to achieve. But I won’t sugarcoat it—this won’t be easy. We’ll need to find top coaches for all three major sports, and that’s just the start. It’s going to take time, effort, and a lot of resources."

There was a murmur among the trustees as they digested Dan’s words. The man with the sharp eyes spoke again. "What makes you think you can turn things around here?"

Dan met his gaze, his voice steady and confident. "Because I learned from the best and I’ve spent my life in highly competitive environments defying expectations. At the OSA, my father built a scouting network from the ground up and he taught me everything he knew. We turned it into the best in the business and expanded beyond baseball to include basketball, football and hockey. And as FABL President, I navigated working with some of the toughest businessmen in the nation, helping FABL move on from the financial struggles of the war years and holding my own until personal vendettas and politics were used to push me out. I’m not afraid of hard work-or confrontation, and I’m not afraid to take on a challenge. But I also know that I can’t do it alone. We’ll need to build a team—coaches, trainers, scouts—who are just as committed to this vision as I am."

Dr. Fletcher exchanged glances with the other trustees, then nodded and passed a sheaf of papers across the table. "We’re prepared to offer you a five-year contract, Mr. Barrell. We believe you’re the right man for the job."

Dan felt a surge of relief, but he kept his expression neutral as he read the contract. It was surprisingly generous-enough so that he made a spot decision despite his reservations. "Thank you, Dr. Fletcher. I’m honored to accept."

------------------------------------------------------------

Back in the present, Dan looked at his sons, seeing the mix of emotions on their faces. "It wasn’t an easy decision," he said. "But I think it’s the right one. Chicago Poly gave me my start. Now I have a chance to help them become something greater."

Gladys smiled, her eyes filled with pride. "We’re behind you, Dan. All the way."

Mike nodded, the disappointment in his eyes giving way to a glimmer of excitement. "And maybe Poly will need a new quarterback in a few years," he said with a grin as he shot a look at his brother.

Dan chuckled, reaching out to ruffle Mike’s hair and grinning at Steve. "Maybe they will."

Steve, though still hesitant, seemed to be coming around. "I guess it could be worse," he muttered. "At least I’ll still be playing ball."

Dan smiled at his younger son. "That’s the spirit, Steve. We’re all in this together. And who knows? Maybe you’ll help lead Poly to a championship one day."

Steve’s lips curled into a small smile, the tension in the room easing. "Maybe."

As the family finished their breakfast, the reality of the move began to sink in. It wouldn’t be easy—uprooting their lives, starting over in a new city—but they would do it together. And for Dan, the opportunity to return to Chicago Poly and build something lasting was worth the challenges ahead.

------------------------------------------------------------

Mike Barrell, QB, Capitol Academy, 1951
------------------------------------------------------------

[legendsport]

Greetings readers of the Barrell Brothers story. As you may have read in either the Chicago Cougars or This Week in Figment Sports threads, the Figment universe is going to speed up to get to the 1969 season to correct some issues and give people a clean slate.

That means the story here will change a bit too as we move forward rather quickly. I will provide updates in a "catching up with" format; specifically I will list the members of the family and what they were up to in each calendar year as we move forward. You will still see some details on various things in the TWIFS thread from TigerFan, which I highly recommend, but this will still be focused on the stories of the individual members of Rufus Barrell's family.

Thanks for reading!

[legendsport]

WHO'S WHO IN THE "BARRELL-VERSE"

Well, I counted them up and we have over 40 living descendants of Rufus & Alice Barrell as we enter our "speed round" of 1952-69. So it felt fitting to provide you with a list of all the characters, living & dead of the Barrell family, and their spouses. Here we go....

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Rufus & Alice Barrell, 1910

FIRST GENERATION
RUFUS BARRELL (June 13, 1873 - September 9, 1948) married ALICE (REID) BARRELL (October 7, 1872 - December 6, 1948) - 10 children: 9 sons, 1 daughter.

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Joe Barrell runs, Chicago Wildcats practice, 1925

SECOND GENERATION
Rufus and Alice Barrell's children:
Joseph (Joe), born August 10, 1894, died February 25, 1934 (married Edna Farmer, born May 7, 1894, on May 15, 1916, divorced; married Dorothy Bates, born April 2, 1907 on October 6, 1928)
Roland (Rollie), born June 17, 1896 (married Francine "Francie" York, born August 22, 1896, on July 25, 1919)
John (Jack), born February 20, 1898 (married Marie Dupuis, born April 3, 1900, on June 15, 1919)
James (Jimmy), born June 6, 1900, died May 31, 1919 (married Claudia Neumann, born March 1, 1899, on December 14, 1918)
Daniel (Dan), born September 5, 1904 (married Gladys Summers, born November 17, 1903, on October 20, 1928)
Frederick (Fred), born September 12, 1905 (married Tillie Hobart, born May 30, 1908, on November 7, 1929)
Thomas (Tom), born February 14, 1908 (married Maureen "Marla" Fitzgerald, born on October 10, 1920, on February 14, 1946)
Robert (Bobby), born July 22, 1910 (married Annette O'Boyle, born October 14, 1913, on October 15, 1938)
Harold (Harry), born March 1, 1913 (married Sarah Goodhue, born June 23, 1913, on October 19, 1939)
Elizabeth (Betsy), born February 11, 1914 (married Tom Bowens born 1/13/1913, on December 25, 1937)

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James Slocum & Agnes Barrell, Honolulu, 1945

THIRD GENERATION
JOE & EDNA
Rufus Barrell II, born June 3, 1917 (married Deborah 'Debbie' Scanlon, on October 20, 1947)
Gloria Barrell, born June 3, 1917 (married Charley McCullough, born 1/18/1916, on December 6, 1941)

JOE & CHARLOTTE CLEAVES (out of wedlock)
Roger Cleaves, born January 27, 1924 (surname from his assumed father; married Evelyn Wilson, born April 20, 1924, on August 23, 1945)

JOE & DOROTHY
Charles (Charlie) Barrell, born July 11, 1930

JIMMY & MARIE
Agnes Barrell, born June 25, 1919 (married Bill McCullough, born 7/21/1914, on April 26, 1941, Bill is KIA on the USS Arizona, 12/7/41; married Quinton Pollack, born August 21, 1922, on 7/10/48)

JIMMY & CLAUDIA
James Barrell Jr, born February 11, 1920 (adopted by Powell Slocum, becomes James Slocum, married Rose Winfield, born October 19, 1921, on June 19, 1948)

ROLLIE & FRANCIE
Martha (Marty) Barrell, born May 13, 1923 (married Jack McCarver, born 11/18/1919, on June 14, 1947)
Alice (Allie) Barrell, born January 20, 1930

JACK & MARIE
Jean Barrell, born May 30, 1923 (married Eugene (Gene) Lee, June 10, 1950)
Vera Barrell, born June 25, 1929

DAN & GLADYS
Michael (Mike) Barrell, born November 22, 1933
Steven (Steve) Barrell, born April 19, 1936

FRED & TILLIE
Frederick (Freddy) Barrell Jr., born August 6, 1932
Benjamin (Benny) Barrell, born October 23, 1937
Hobart (Hobie) Barrell, born April 1, 1941
Loretta Barrell, born July 19, 1948

TOM & MARLA
Donald (Don) Barrell, born February 17, 1952

BOBBY & ANNETTE
Ralph Barrell, born April 13, 1940
Robert (Bobby) Barrell Jr., born September 19, 1943

HARRY & SARAH
Joseph Reid (Reid) Barrell, born August 13, 1940
Barbara Barrell, born March 11, 1948

BETSY & TOM
George Bowens, born September 30, 1940
Thomas (Tom) Bowens Jr., born October 30, 1947
Wilhelmina (Billie) Bowens, March 19, 1950

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FOURTH GENERATION
GLORIA & CHARLEY MCCULLOUGH
Linda McCullough born September 13, 1947
William (Billy) McCullough born November 11, 1949

ROGER & EVELYN CLEAVES
Dwayne Cleaves, born April 13, 1948 (named for USMC 1st Sgt Dwayne Hickey)
Richard (Dick) Cleaves, born March 22, 1950

DEUCE & DEBBIE BARRELL
Rufus Barrell III, born January 3, 1949
Jo Ann Barrell, born April 10, 1951

JAMES & ROSE SLOCUM
Brenda Slocum, born April 7, 1949
Paul Slocum, born May 20, 1950

AGNES & QUINTON POLLACK
John (Jack) Barrell Pollack, born July 2, 1949
Mary Pollack, born May 11, 1952

MARTY & JACK MCCARVER
William (Bill) McCarver, born April 16, 1952

[legendsport]

1952 BARRELL UPDATE
ROLLIE BARRELL
Rollie withdrew his bid for purchasing the Detroit Dynamos after hearing that the Bernie Millard-led bloc of FABL owners would not approve the sale. On the field, Rollie's 1952 Detroit Maroons finished 6-6 in a three-way tie with LA and San Francisco for third-place in the AFA West. Rollie's basketball club, the Detroit Mustangs, had a much better year and won their first FBL title with a Finals sweep of the favored Washington Statesmen behind the play of MVP forward Ward Messer.

JACK BARRELL
Jack's 1951-52 campaign as the coach of the Toronto Dukes saw him steer the club to a fourth-place finish and a first round exit in the playoffs. There were grumblings about his job security, but owner David Welcombe renewed his contract.

DAN BARRELL
Dan settled into his role as the Athletic Director of Chicago Poly, and began the work of building the moribund athletic programs into - hopefully - powerhouses, particularly in baseball, basketball and football.

FRED BARRELL
Fred accepted a job with the Central Intelligence Agency and moved the family to Virginia. This was unpopular with both Benny and Hobie who are budding hockey players. Fred ultimately secured a position on the staff of the U.S. Embassy in Ottawa as a CIA liason, and the family moved again, settling in the Canadian capital before the 1952-53 amateur hockey season began. His tasks largely involved monitoring the activity of suspected KGB agents operating out of the Soviet embassy in Ottawa.

TOM BARRELL
Tom and his wife Marla welcomed the first child, Donald, in February. Tom's itch for competition was partially slaked by frequently playing golf on Long Island, though he missed baseball. By the end of the year, Marla was already talking about having a second child.

BOBBY BARRELL
Frustrated by the erosion of his once-might skills, Bobby called it a career mid-season, retiring from baseball at age 41 on July 27, 1952. He finished his certain Hall-of-Fame career as the 2nd-most prolific HR hitter in FABL history with 639, third in all-time hits at 3815, and as the all-time leader in games (3092), at-bats (12350), total bases (6628) and runs batted in (2328). He wasn't away from the game long as he was hired by NBC as a broadcaster for their Game of the Week, as well as joining the local broadcast team for the Keystones.

HARRY BARRELL
1952 was very much a mixed bag for Harry, and he would have said that mix was mostly on the bad end. Furious because she now believed Harry was having an affair with Ruth Barton. It was small consolation that Harry's conscience was clear on that point, and also that Reginald Barton's plan had backfired - his father had sworn to sell the team before leaving it to Reggie or Ruth. This was small consolation because Sarah had asked him to move out, and he had, more for the sake of their children than because it was the right thing to do. On the top of all that, Harry had debuted as skipper of the Minutemen while still a player, finishing 70-84 in sixth place. On the field, his once-legendary reflexes were going - whether simply age, or age plus the stress of his domestic problems, Harry wasn't sure, and it didn't matter. He played in 103 games and had his worst batting average ever at .226 as he began to transition himself out of a full-time role as a player. By October, Harry was despondent and things took a turn for the worst when he received divorce papers from Sarah just befor Thanksgiving.

BETSY BARRELL BOWENSf
Betsy had settled nicely into her role as the wife of the head coach of the Detroit Maroons. It allowed her to see Rollie and his family on a regular basis. Her three children kept her busy and George, her oldest at 12, was nearing high school and showing promise as - surprise! - an athlete, looking to follow in the footsteps of his former All-Pro end father.

RUFUS "DEUCE" BARRELL
Deuce had a rocky season in Cincinnati. He posted his first losing record since his debut in Baltimore, posting an 11-13 record with a career-high 4.38 ERA. His home life had settled into normalcy and his relationship with Debbie had moved past his trust issues. They had two children, Rufus, age three, upon whom Deuce had - like his own father - bestowed a nickname, in his case "Trip" which Debbie hated but tolerated, much as Deuce's mother had his own. Their daughter, Jo Ann, named as a nod to Joe Barrell, turn one year old in April, just before Opening Day. But Deuce's life took a twist when he was traded to the cross-state rival Cleveland Foresters on October 26th.

GLORIA BARRELL MCCULLOUGH
Deuce's twin sister, married to Cannons manager Charley McCullough, saw both her brother and husband struggle in their career: the Cannons finished seventh with a 61-93 record. To make things worse Charley was fired at the end of the season.

AGNES BARRELL POLLACK
Agnes had her husband, Toronto Dukes center Quinton Pollack, welcomed their second child, a daughter they named Mary, an anglicized form of Agnes' mother Marie's name, joining their son, three-year-old John Pollack, whom they'd named for Jack Barrell and like his grandfather, they called Jack.

JAMES SLOCUM
James career as the man behind the National Automobile Racing Federation was a growing success. Though his uncle Fred had declined to join him in running the NARF, he was considering reaching out to Tom. Tom had been a big part of James' youth in Brooklyn, and now that he was out of baseball (like Fred) he might be willing to join his nephew.

MARTHA (MARTY) BARRELL MCCARVER
Marty is living in New York with her husband and their newborn son Bill. Jack McCarver is coaching high school football in Albany, NY.

ALLIE BARRELL
Allie graduated from Detroit City College in May of 1952 with a degree in Finance. She plans on going to work for her father in the front office of the Detroit Maroons.

JEAN BARRELL LEE
Jean and her homonym husband Gene, are working in advertising in New York City. During '52 they began discussing starting a family.

VERA BARRELL
Like her cousin Allie, Vera graduated from Detroit City College in 1952, but her degree is in Fine Arts. Her father Jack has begun helping her seek work with an art gallery in Toronto.

FREDDY BARRELL
1952 was a tough year for Fred & Tillie Barrell's oldest son. Now a professional baseball player in Class C of the Detroit organization, Freddy doesn't see much playing time in 1952. He confides in his father that he is thinking about quitting and going to college. Fred tells him to follow his heart and do what feels right for him.

MIKE BARRELL
Dan and Gladys' oldest son graduated high school and has begun his collegiate career at Rome State, where he plays baseball, football and basketball and plans on a career as an officer in the U.S. Army, while leaving open the possibility of playing professional sports. Mike enjoyed a good final baseball season, hitting .442 with 10 home runs in 205 at-bats. His first fall at Rome State, he is named starting QB for the Centurions, starting all nine games and showing a lot of poise and promise.

STEVE BARRELL
Mike's younger brother completed his sophomore season, and is now playing for Chicago's Taft High School after the family's move to the Windy City for Dan's new job at Chicago Poly. Playing with his brother one last time, Steve, a centerfielder, hits .393 while showing his speed and athleticism. He also quarterbacked Taft's football squad in the fall as a junior, and is considered a blue chip prospect, though most expect him to play at Chicago Poly now that his father is A.D. there.

[legendsport]

1953 BARRELL BROTHERS UPDATE

ROLLIE BARRELL
Rollie's Detroit Mustangs went from winning the FBL title to finishing last with a 27-43 record in 1952-53. On the gridiron the Detroit Maroons had a middling 6-6 season but did seem to find their new QB. Rookie Sam Burson was drafted 2nd overall out of Georgia Baptist and put up very strong numbers: 155-259 passing for 2703 yards, 22 TDs and 11 interceptions in Coach Tom Bowens' offense. In other news, Rollie opted to step down as the President of the Federal Basketball League and was replaced by Eugene Holcroft, his long-time FBL Business Manager. This move dovetailed with rumors, so far unsubstantiated, that Rollie is working on various members of the "Millard Cabal" amongst FABL ownership. Rollie's Presidency of the FBL would violate FABL ownership by-laws, and this was a necessary move to remove the one legal hurdle upon which Millard and his cronies could base their opposition. Of larger concern is that Millard controls the new FABL President John Decker. Rollie has a lot of work to do to undermine Millard and re-open the possibility of purchasing the Detroit Dynamos.

JACK BARRELL
Coached the NAHC's Toronto Dukes to a Challenge Cup winning, making it three titles in the six full season since Barrell assumed the coaching role in Toronto.

DAN BARRELL
The former FABL player and Olympic athlete spent his second year as the Athletic Director at Chicago Poly University after being removed as President of FABL. The football program finished 3-6 and recruiting has been tough but the University Board remains committed to providing the resources needed to improve the program. On the hardwood, the basketball team went 15-16, which was a promising sign. Head Coach Paul McCoy is a premier recruiter and Dan hopes he'll be able to bring in talent. Dan's son Steve is a standout three-sport star and has unofficially committed to play at Poly.

FRED BARRELL
Working for the CIA out of Ottawa, coordinating with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police's Special Branch in monitoring KGB activities in Canada.

TOM BARRELL
Approached by his nephew James to work in the NARF office as Executive Vice President, Tom would like to accept but with his wife Marla expecting their second child, has deferred joining the organization until 1954.

BOBBY BARRELL
Working as a broadcaster for NBC on weekly television coverage of FABL baseball, and works in the radio booth for Keystones' games when not working for TV.

HARRY BARRELL
The 40-year-old spent his second full season as a player-manager with the Boston Minutemen and helped the Minutemen climb in to the Federal Association's first division with a 78-76 record. Boston has not finished higher than fourth since a second place showing in 1946. As a player, the 10-time all-star restricted himself to being a spare part, getting just 63 plate appearances but he did hit .345 and keeps his career batting average above the .300 mark. On the domestic front, Harry is now a divorced man and has poured himself into his work as manager and his fun-loving prankster ways have largely disappeared as his bitterness about losing his wife and no longer seeing his children regularly weighs on him. Ruth Barton continues to circle, demonstrating her continued interest now that Harry is single, but Harry has thus far kept his distance.

TOM BOWENS Betsy's husband and brother-in-law of Detroit Maroons owner Rollie Barrell remains head coach of the Maroons. Bowens did lead the Maroons to the playoffs in 1951 but they dropped to 3-9 the following season before bouncing back this year with a 6-6 mark. His work with rookie quarterback Sam Burson has the Maroon faithful excited about the future.

DEUCE BARRELL
Traded to Cleveland the previous winter after 14 seasons with the Cannons, the 36-year-old had a tough time cracking the World Champion Foresters pitching rotation, starting just 9 games while primarily working out of the pen. Barrell went 7-2 to bring his career record to 223-138. He did start two games in the WCS, going 1-1 with a 5.40 era as the Foresters beat Detroit in seven games, earning Deuce his second World Championship Series ring.

CHARLEY McCULLOUGH
The husband of Gloria Barrell is currently not working in professional baseball after he was fired as manager of the Cincinnati Cannons following the 1952 season. He has been coaching for a Cincinnati High School and spending time with his wife & children.

ROGER CLEAVES
The 29-year-old catcher played his seventh season for the Philadelphia Keystones, hitting .293 with 23 homers and 90 rbis and was selected to the Federal Association all-star team for the sixth time. In the offseason, he took his family to New Zealand, reuniting his wife Evelyn with her family, and allowing their children to meet the other side of their family. For Roger, this was his first return to the Pacific since the war, and he suffered from some nightmares.

QUINTON POLLACK
Jack's son-in-law (married to Agnes Barrell) is the captain of the Dukes and established a single-season NAHC points record with 99. He also equaled the goal scoring standard with 47 and won his second McDaniels Trophy as NAHC's Most Valuable Player along with his third Yeadon Trophy for Most Gentlemanly Play. Pollack's regular season scoring title was the second time he had led the league in points.

CHARLIE BARRELL
The three-sport star who made history by being drafted in three different professional sports in 1951-52, made his FABL debut after being traded from the Cincinnati Cannons to the New York Stars in January. Barrell hit .310 for the Stars and was named the Continental Association's Kellogg Award winner as top rookie. He did all of that after starting the year with the Chicago Panthers of the Federal Basketball League, for whom he was named to the league's all-rookie team despite playing in just 54 games. Barrell averaged an impressive 14.2 ppg and 3.1 apg for the Panthers, who finished first in the West Division but were upset by Toronto in the semi-finals. As if that was not enough Barrell also dressed for 3 games for the American Football Association's Los Angeles Tigers. He had started all 12 games for the Tigers as a rookie the previous season but saw little action when he joined the club in October and was allowed to leave to join the Panthers for the upcoming 1953-54 basketball season.

MIKE BARRELL
Dan's oldest son is much like his cousin Charlie, a three sport collegiate star. On the ballfield Mike, a 20-year-old third baseman, hit .302 for Rome State while also starting all 9 games at quarterback for the Centurions football team. The school enjoyed a resurgence this year as, after going just 5-4 during Mike's freshman campaign, the service academy had a perfect 9-0 regular season before being upset 22-3 by Lawrence State in the Sunshine Classic on New Year's Day. The Centurions eleven finished the year 9-1 and ranked 6th in the national polls. Barrell also played forward on the Rome State basketball team which went 13-17 on the year playing as an independent. Mike averaged just under 10 points a game.

STEVE BARRELL
Mike's younger brother Steve is a senior in high school this year and a marginal prospect for the FABL draft. The sport he excels at is basketball and he is expected to commit to Chicago Poly for the 1954-55 season where his father is the Athletic Director.

FREDDY BARRELL
The son of former big league catcher and manager Fred Barrell has retired from baseball after two seasons in the Detroit Dynamos organization. He did not play anywhere in 1953 and has enrolled at Georgia Baptist, joining the golf team.

BENNY BARRELL
The second son of former FABL player and manger Fred Barrell is a highly touted hockey prospect who spent the past season playing in the Greater Ottawa Minor League system while also spending a few games with a local junior B team. The 14-year-old center is expected to make the jump to the Canadian Junior Hockey Association in the near future and is, at this early stage at least, considered a potential regular in the NAHC one day.
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Charlie Barrell image from his
1953 Chicago Panthers basketball trading card

[legendsport]

1954 BARRELL BROTHERS UPDATE

ROLLIE BARRELL
Rollie's efforts to purchase the Detroit Dynamos took a dramatic turn when FABL President Eugene Holcroft announced that the Board of Governors had voted unanimously that FABL owners would not be permitted to own teams in multiple sports. Owners who already owned teams in multiple sports, such as Thomas X. Bigsby, were grandfathered in and the rule would only apply to new FABL owners. Rollie later commented to Francine that he would be shut out until "Millard dies, or sells the team," noting that Holcroft owes his job to Millard and the Toronto owner has an outsized amount of power in the league, according to non-Millard-aligned owners friendly to the Barrells, such as Chicago's Billy Whitney and LA's Bigsby.

JACK BARRELL
The Toronto Dukes make it back to the Challenge Cup Finals, but fall to the Detroit Wolves.

DAN BARRELL
Chicago Poly's Athletic Director is pleased to see his younger son enroll at Poly and make the football team as - for now - the third-string QB, but the work to make the Catamounts matter in the AIAA is very much an ongoing concern. The football squad stumbles badly, finishing 1-8 and Dan considers firing the coach and taking the reins himself. The basketball team is better, as they manage a respectable 17-14 mark, including a win over the (then) #1 team in the country, Western Iowa. Even better, Steve Barrell is a blue-chip basketball prospect and expected to play a leading role in the 1954-55 Catamounts season.

FRED BARRELL
Fred continues his work in Canada, monitoring - and occasionally undermining - Soviet intelligence efforts.

TOM BARRELL
With the birth of his daughter Maureen in August, Tom agrees to join the National Auto Racing Federation as his nephew's right-hand man, moving his family to Charlotte, North Carolina, where the NARF headquarters is located in November. He ends the year looking forward to an interesting 1955 as he will learn the ropes of stock car racing. In discussing the move with Marla, Tom reflects on how he had, as a boy, looked up to his brother Jimmy who had stood out among the older Barrells as an idealist with a reckless streak, and he sees some of that in Jimmy's son James, though the latter has his wild streak leavened by a strong dose of no-nonsense German pragmatism from his mother Claudia.

BOBBY BARRELL
Though he misses playing, Bobby has settled into his role as a broadcaster. His down-home charm and honesty make him a good color man. The highlight of the summer for Bobby is when he takes batting practice with the Federal All-Stars in San Francisco, and hits several balls over the fence. "I love this ballpark," he tells the viewers during the broadcast of the All-Star Game, adding, "I wish I could have played here. I might have hit 70 homers!"

HARRY BARRELL
The Boston Minutemen are sold by Jesse Barton to Hartford-based businessman Gil Goebel. Goebel promises no changes to the front office. Two weeks after the sale, Jesse Barton dies. Harry attends the funeral, where he witnesses an ugly argument between Ruth and Reginald Barton. It turns out that Reg is planning to contest the will because Jesse had evenly split his sizeable fortune between them. Harry intervenes on Ruth's behalf which she takes as a sign of his affection for her, but he denies this, saying he still loves his ex-wife. On the field, the Minutemen have a 71-83 season and Harry officially retires as a player at the end of it, after having gone just 2-for-17 on the year. One bright spot for Harry is the friendship he has sparked up with Joe Kleman, the now-24-year-old who replaced him as the starting shortstop. Kleman's play is reminiscent of Harry's - slick fielding with good hitting, though even Harry has to admit the kid has more pop than he did. Seeing a kindred spirit in Kleman, Harry has taken a personal interest in mentoring the young shortstop.

TOM BOWENS
The Detroit Maroons have an up & down season, finishing 6-6 after having their young star QB Sam Burson miss three games due to injury. Tom remains confident in his team's chances, though the Western Conference is a tough one with both San Francisco and St. Louis having taken steps forward into the vacuum left by the shocking disintegration of former powerhouse Kansas City.

DEUCE BARRELL
Deuce resumes a role in the rotation under new Foresters manager Art Newton and makes 29 starts, fashioning a 16-6 record and 3.96 ERA for a second-place 87-67 club. Even better for Deuce is the news that his best friend and brother-in-law Charley McCullough is hired on as the third base coach in Cleveland. With his twin sister, her husband and their family in town, Deuce is wholly content in his life.

ROGER CLEAVES
1954 was a nice, solid season for Roger. His average was just .254, the second-lowest of his career (only the dismal .229 of '51 was worse) but he made his seventh-All-Star appearance in his eight FABL seasons, clouted 27 home runs, which left him with a career total of 199 at season's end. Bobby was around the team quite a bit and he and Roger continued their close relationship. Roger did suffer a knee injury late in the season and in the winter, skating with his sons, he tore a hamstring, leaving him limping into 1955 but otherwise a happy man.

QUINTON POLLACK
Jack's son-in-law had another great season, albeit not quite at the same level of greatness as the previous season. His points dropped from a record-99 to 78, as his goal output fell (47-to-35) and his assists did as well (52-43). Though he finished second in both categories, his 78 points did make him the scoring leader.

CHARLIE BARRELL
1954 was a bit of a contentious year for Charlie. Tom Bigsby, who was now engaged to Charlie's mother as well as being the owner of two of the three professional teams for which Charlie played, was displeased when Charlie announced in February that he was done with football. Matters took an even uglier turn when Bigsby learned that Charlie wasn't planning to leave the FBL's Chicago Panthers to attend Stars spring training in Arizona. Charlie pointed to his contract, which continued to hold a clause allowing him to join the Stars "when the season of the Chicago Panthers basketball club has been completed." Bigsby threatened to trade Charlie, but Charlie didn't buy that for an instant. He then threatened to buy the Panthers and release Charlie, which just made the young man laugh. In the end, Charlie finished the season with the Panthers, starting as the shooting guard, averaging 14.6 points and 7.1 rebounds per game (Charlie had always been proud of his rebounding ability). The team was knocked out of the playoffs by Rochester in the semi-finals, and Charlie joined the Stars in the second week of May. Baseball in sunny California was a welcome event for native-son Charlie, who loved the weather after spending the winter in Chicago. And though he played well - hitting .384 - his season was cut even shorter by injury. Bigsby wryly noted to Dorothy in her son's presence that perhaps "double-dipping" was wearing Charlie out. Charlie was unimpressed by this and joined the Panthers for the opening of the '54-55 season.

MIKE BARRELL
Mike's third-season quarterbacking the Rome State Centurions was his best yet. Though the team employed its typical run-heavy offense, when Mike did throw, he was very efficient, completing 55% of his passes for 872 yards. In the '53-54 season on the hardwood, Mike played point guard and averaged 10.1 points and 2.8 assists for a 15-14 squad. He is looking forward to the '54-55 season when his team will face his brother Steve and the Chicago Poly Catamounts - the first time Dan Barrell's two sons will play on opposing teams.

STEVE BARRELL
Steve started college and was disappointed to not see the field at all during Chicago Poly's 1954 season, particularly since the team went 1-8 under coach Ed Webber. Steve avoided bad-mouthing his coach to his father - who just happened to be Webber's boss as Athletic Director, but Dan had already drawn his own impression of Webber before Steve joined the team. Like his brother Mike, Steve is looking forward to facing his sibling in basketball, where Steve is expected to be a starter for the Catamounts at small forward.

FREDDY BARRELL
Freddy Barrell entered his second year at Georgia Baptist, studying business and playing golf, where he has shown some promise.

BENNY BARRELL
Benny has drawn some attention as a potential future star as he approaches his 16th birthday and with it, eligibility for the Canadian Amateur Hockey Association.
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15-year-old Benny Barrell in his midget hockey uniform, 1954

[legendsport]

1955 BARRELL BROTHERS UPDATE

ROLLIE BARRELL
It was a down year for Rollie's sports operations as both teams had losing seasons. The Detroit FBL club as the Mustangs posted the worst record in the league, 14-58. The football Maroons fared better with a 4-8 record, but that was still only good for a fifth-place finish in the six-team AFA West. Francie begins to pressure her 59-year-old husband to begin to slow down in preparation for retirement. With this in mind, Rollie quietly begins seeking a buyer for the Mustangs while also ending his efforts to purchase FABL's Detroit Dynamos.

JACK BARRELL
The Toronto Dukes continue to be amongst the best clubs in the NAHC under the guidance of Coach Jack Barrell, posting a 39-17-14 record with 92 points, once again the best in the league. They again make it to the Challenge Cup finals and this time win it, bringing the title back to Toronto after a one-year absence. The title marks the sixth title of Jack's coaching career, and is the fourth since he returned to the Dukes. As he tells his son-in-law,and Dukes captain Quinton Pollack (who has been with the team for all four titles since Jack's return), "Winning never gets old."

DAN BARRELL
The Chicago Poly basketball team took major strides forward in 1954-55, posting a 21-12 record and earning a berth in the AIAA tournament. Though Dan's son Steve was a member of the team, he did not play many minutes desite appearing in all 33 games (he made five starts). The Catamounts pulled off a surprise win over the 23rd-ranked Oklahoma City State in the tourney's opening round, 60-51, then fell to the 3rd-ranked Whitney College, 67-61. The gridiron squad continued to be a disappointment although some positive signs were shown in a 4-5 campaign. Privately Dan continued contemplating taking the coaching reins himself, a decision he promised his wife he'd make before the 1956 season.

FRED BARRELL
Fred's posting in counterintelligence in Ottawa continues, though he is dispatched to Saigon for two weeks in June to offer his opinion on the growing Communist insurgency in South Vietnam, following the partition of the country at the Geneva Conference in 1954. Fred's report to superiors in Washington boiled down to "neither side is abiding by the agreement and things are going to boil over into open war sooner or later, and more likely, sooner." Fred later learned he was requested specifically by President Eisenhower who vaguely remembered Fred's clandestine work in France during the war. He privately related his concerns of finding "a mess of Agency men already there" in Saigon to his wife. When she asked what he meant by that, Fred shook his head and replied, "Nothing good, and that's all I can say."

TOM BARRELL
Tom spends his first full year as the Director of Operations for the National Automobile Racing Federation. Though he technically reports to his nephew James, who is President of NARF, James concentrates on gladhanding with sponsors and the racing teams and leaves the business side in the hands of Tom, James' wife Rose (who has no official job title herself), and hires Freddy Barrell to work as an intern under Tom's purview. The season is a resounding success as gate receipts rise (as they have every year) and several races are televised locally.

BOBBY BARRELL
Bobby's career as the lead color commentator on FABL broadcasts by NBC continues. His son Ralph, now a high schooler, begins to draw attention as a ballplayer himself, to Bobby's delight. Even better, to Bobby's view, is that Ralph has shown a more athletic, all-around ability than Bobby himself had, something the proud father attributes to Ralph's mother Annette, a former world-class track athlete. Younger son Bobby Jr. is also a promising athlete and like Ralph, plays multiple sports.

HARRY BARRELL
Perhaps worn down her dogged pursuit, or simply because he is lonely and has lost faith in his ability to reconcile with his ex-wife, Harry Barrell begins dating Ruth Barton after a long discussion with her at a Florida hotel during spring training. Though her family no longer owns the Minutemen, the wealthy Ruth continues her habit of spending spring training near the club. When word of this gets out, Harry is informed by his son Reid, that Sarah had broken her favorite vase, a gift to them by Harry's parents on their fifth anniversary. Harry is glad his children are still willing to speak to him, though his daughter, eight-year-old Barbara, runs hot and cold. Reid, now 15 and a star of the Boston Latin High School baseball team -a shortstop like his father- remains close to Harry. Professionally, the 1955 season is a mixed bag as the club finishes at 77-77 for a flat .500 season. Harry believes the pitching is weak and often bemoans the fact to Ruth; he adds that his job will ultimately depend on how the farm system's arms develop - the current crop of starters in Boston are all over 30. "We're going to score plenty," Harry opines, "the issue's going to be stopping the other guys from scoring."

TOM BOWENS
Tom remained at the helm of the Detroit Maroons, guiding the team to a 1955 record of 4-8, a disappointment particularly given the stellar play of third-year QB Sam Burson. After winning the opener 30-17 over the KC Cowboys, the Maroons dropped four straight and in each of the first three surrendered 30 or more points. The team's defense ended up being the third-worst in the league with only the winless Pittsburgh Paladins and the 2-10 Cowboys finishing below the Maroons. With Rollie Barrell's approval, Tom began the offseason in search of a new defensive coordinator.

DEUCE BARRELL
For Rufus Barrell II, 1955 was a year of transition, or so it seemed at the time. Now in his third year in Cleveland after spending 14 seasons with the Cincinnati Cannons, Deuce had settled in with his new club. He had befriended ace pitcher Adrian Czerwinski to the point that Czerwinski -a bachelor- was often a dinner guest for Deuce, Debbie and their two children. This represented a big change for Deuce who had always been the best pitcher on his team until joining the Foresters - and had often been a guest of his team mates rather than a host. Czerwisnki was no youngster, and he was whip smart too (which Deuce resented, just a little). He also had a sister, Anna, who was likewise whip smart, but rather shy, who lived with him (she was working on her doctorate in physics... or chemistry... Deuce could never keep it straight). The kids loved her, though Debbie found her strange and hard to relate to, given their personality differences. On the field, the Foresters were still a force in the Continental, but ended up finishing second to the circuit's new top team: Kansas City. For Deuce himself, he finished with a 16-11 record and a 4.55 ERA, the highest of his career. He felt that his star had faded. One bright spot, aside from his friendship with Czerwinski, was the presence of Charley McCullough, now the Foresters' third-base coach, which also meant that Charley's wife was on-hand as well. And Charley's wife was of course, Deuce's twin sister Gloria.

---------------------- INTERSTITIAL ----------------------
June 22, 1955 - Cleveland, OH

Deuce Barrell pecked his wife on the cheek on his way out the door. "We better win today," he said, "Or I have to buy dinner for my kid brother."

Debbie shook her head. "I don't know why you make these stupid bets," she said with a frown. "But you can afford to buy him dinner if you lose."

"Adrian's pitching, and I feel lucky," Deuce said with a wink then walked out the door whistling happily.

Debbie ended up being right - Deuce shouldn't have made the bet with Charlie. The kid went 3-for-5, including a two-run homer off Czerwinski in the fifth and led the LA Stars to a 10-6 win over the Foresters. Charlie'd even had the nerve to wink at him as he rounded third base, a big grin on his face.

After the game, the brothers met on the field.

"I skipped the pregame meal," Charlie said with a twinkle in his eye.

"Oh, really?" Deuce scoffed.

"Sure, I wanted to have a big appetite for my free meal tonight," Charlie said and laughed.

Deuce sighed and then said, "Listen, Charlie, Czerwinski's coming with us, so give the guy a break, hey?"

Charlie shrugged and said, "Sure, he's gotten me more than once, and rubbing it in isn't really my thing."

"Oh, really?" Deuce repeated, causing Charlie to laugh.

"Oh and one more thing, Czerwinski's bring his sister too."

Charlie raised an eyebrow, "Oh, really?" he asked, then grinned and asked, "Is she good looking?"

Now Deuce shook his head, though he remembered he would probably have asked the same question when he'd been Charlie's age. "Sure, she's pretty enough. But she's smart, and I mean really smart." He saw Charlie frown and added, "And she's shy. Really, really shy."

"Sounds like a dreamboat," Charlie said. Then he slapped Deuce on the shoulder, and said, "I'll catch a cab to the restaurant. Six, right?"

Deuce nodded. "Yep, six works."

----------------------

The next morning, Deuce got a phone call. It was from his brother.

"What are you doing calling me?" Deuce asked after ascertaining that Charlie was in fact at the train station as the Stars prepared to board their train to Toronto where they'd play a three-game set with the Wolves.

"I thought you told me that Anna was shy!" Charlie said.

"She is," Deuce spluttered, then remembered that Debbie had remarked that Anna had seemed "awful chatty" when they'd gotten home the night before. Deuce had been mostly paying attention to Adrian who liked to dissect the game over dinner and the two pitchers had tuned everything else out.

"Not as far as I could tell," Charlie remarked, then explained that Anna had "grilled him" throughout dinner. "Now normally, I'm a subject on which I'm eager to speak at length," Charlie said with a chuckle, "but that girl was asking some personal stuff. How many girlfriends I've had, stuff like that."

Deuce muttered a "Huh," as he mentally tried to reconcile that with the nearly silent young woman he'd known for almost three years. He almost missed Charlie admitting he'd "fibbed about that one," which wasn't a surprise. Deuce would have done the same.

"How old is she anyway?" Charlie asked.

"Uh...." Deuce had to think for a moment, then said, "I think she's 23, 24 maybe."

"She came off as older, you know? One of my girlfriends had a grandmother that gave me a serious grilling and Anna could give that old biddy a run for her money."

"Yeah, that doesn't sound like her at all, Charlie," Deuce said.

"Well, I'm telling you, she knows more about me now than probably anyone else, including my mother," Charlie complained.

A train whistle blew and Charlie said he had to go. Deuce hung up the phone and went to make himself some coffee, thoroughly perplexed.

As Deuce was pouring, Debbie walked into the kitchen in her robe.

"What was that about?" she asked.

"Charlie said Anna gave him the third degree last night," Deuce replied.

"Ha, more like she was giving him a thorough vetting. I knew she was up to something," Debbie said with a grin.

"What's that mean? Vetting him?"

"Oh, I think our quiet, mousey Anna has set her sights on your brother as husband material," Debbie said.

Deuce stared at her for a moment, then put the pieces together himself and laughed. "Wait til I tell Adrian," he laughed.

------------------------------------------------------------------

ROGER CLEAVES
1955 was a banner year for Roger Cleaves. He had his best season, hitting a career high .294 with 24 homers and a career-best .904 OPS. He earned his sixth straight selection to the All-Star team (and eighth overall) but would have traded it for a better finish for the Keystones. Philly struggled to a seventh-place finish as one of baseball's best lineups was held back by a pitching staff that simply couldn't get opponents out. The team finished 65-89, 36 games behind the pennant-winning Detroit Dynamos.

QUINTON POLLACK
Arguably now the game's biggest star (it is between him and Chicago Packer star Tommy Burns) as well as its highest-paid player, Quinton Pollack wins a fourth title with the Dukes and goes over the 90-point mark during the regular season for the second time in his career, finishing with 95 points on 35 goals and a career-best 60 assists, just two seasons after nearly becoming the NAHC's first 100-point player (he finished with 99). He and his wife Agnes also welcomed their third child (and second son) in January of '55. They name the boy William, in honor of Agnes' first husband Bill McCullough, a US Naval officer killed in the attack of Pearl Harbor.

CHARLIE BARRELL
The ever-busy Charlie Barrell had an eventful 1955. He rejoined the Chicago Panthers of the FBL in the fall of '54 and was a key piece of the team when healthy. Injuries continued to nag Charlie and he played in 52 of 70 possible contests during the 1954-55 basketball season, finishing with an average of 12.3 points-per-game, down 2.3 points over the previous season. Chicago finished with the second-best record in the league, one game behind their division rival Rochester. They dispatched Toronto in the divisional round, but lost to Rochester in the West Finals. Rochester would go on to win the title. With pro football now in his past, Charlie was down to "only" two sports and moved directly from the hardwood to the diamond, joining the LA Stars immediately after the end of the Panthers' playoff run. This limited him to just 117 games for the Stars, but he did hit .347 and won his first batting title while also hitting 22 home runs. Charlie's success on the diamond and his disdain for Chicago winters coupled with pressure from his now-stepfather Tom Bigsby caused Charlie to decide to make baseball his primary sport, signing a 1955-56 basketball contract that would see him leave the Panthers in February to participate in the Stars' spring training and provide him his first full season of baseball in 1956.

MIKE BARRELL
Mike enjoyed a solid season for the Rome State Centurions basketball team, playing small forward and finishing second on the team in scoring at 10.9 ppg. He scored 21 points when Rome State faced his brother's Chicago Poly squad, but Steve got the last laugh as his team won the game. On the gridiron, where Mike really shone as the team's QB, the Centurions finished 8-2 and ranked #12 in the nation, capping it off with a 48-10 win over their rivals from Annapolis Maritime in the season capper, before losing the Bayside Classic to Bayou State, 13-10. Mike completed over 50% of his passes for 880 yards and 10 touchdowns.

STEVE BARRELL
Steve Barrell didn't have quite as good a season on the gridiron as his older brother, as the Catamounts finished 4-5 (including a 25-0 drubbing by Mike Barrell & Rome State) and Steve threw only three TD passes, but he knew he'd continue to improve and his father was committed to turning the Poly football program around. That turnaround had seemingly happened for the Catamounts' hoop squad which went 21-12, made the tourney and even won a game before falling to the Whitney College powerhouse in the second round. Steve didn't play as much as he liked - he only started five games, but played in every game and averaged just over 19 minutes a game, scoring 5.1 points per contest, including eight in the team's win over Rome State.

FREDDY BARRELL
Fred Jr. continues his academic career with a third year at Georgia Baptist and spends the summer working as an intern with his cousin James' NARF organization where he works under Director of Operations (and his uncle) Tom Barrell. His golf game continues to show promise as well.

BENNY BARRELL
Fred's middle son begins his junior career with the Hull Hawks of the CAHA (Canadian Amateur Hockey Association), playing center on the team's second line and has a good debut season, scoring 11 goals and adding 24 assists in 52 games. He displays excellent agility, balance and stamina and though impressed, his coaches stress that Benny begin working harder on defense to become a more well-rounded player.

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Deuce Barrell's 1955 Baseball Card
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[legendsport]

1956 BARRELL BROTHERS UPDATE

ROLLIE BARRELL
Calling it the "end of an era" Rollie Barrell signs an agreement to sell the Detroit Mustangs Basketball Club to August Herrmann, a local brewer for the sum of $150,000, with the transfer to occur at the end of the 1955-56 season. The team was much improved over recent seasons, finishing with a 38-34 record despite a large change in the lineup: in the wake of the Cleveland Crushers' folding, Detroit acquired former Brawlers star Ziggy Rickard. Despite Rollie's opposition, coach John Jackson inserted Rickard into the power forward position, supplanting Ward Messer. Messer had been slowing down in recent seasons despite being not having turned 30 until February of '56. Rather than overrule his coach, Rollie went along with it and the move seemed to work as the team did improve. Similar changes wracked the Detroit Maroons where Tom Bowens resigned as coach before the season, with he, Betsy and their kids moving to Los Angeles. Under new coach Sam Wiggins the team goes 6-6, which is an improvement, but the offense takes a step back in Bowens' absence (Wiggins is a defensive coach). Rollie turned 60 on June 16, an occasion celebrated with a trip to Hawaii. Joining Rollie and Francie were their daughters, their son-in-law and grandson, plus Jack, Marie and their daughters, sons-in-law and grandkids.

JACK BARRELL
For the third straight season Jack's Toronto Dukes post the best regular-season record in the NAHC, going 39-17-14 for 92 points, a 13-point edge on second-place Boston. The Dukes thumped the Chicago Packers in the semi-finals, four games to one, earning a fourth-straight Finals berth. But the team fizzled in the Cup Finals against their familiar nemeses from Detroit, losing the series in six games. Jack's contract runs through the end of the 1956-57 season and his post-Finals meeting with 71-year-old owner David Welcombe leaves Jack feeling restless and uncertain about his future. His brother Rollie comes to the rescue, inviting Jack and his family to join Rollie's family for a 60th-birthday vacation in Hawaii in June. The trip and time spent with his brother recharges Jack's batteries and he is ready to lead the Dukes back into battle in the fall of '56.

DAN BARRELL
Dan decides not to fire his head football coach, which is a relief to Gladys, who felt that the stress of running the team alongside his duties as Athletic Director wouldn't be good for Dan's health. The basketball squad goes 17-14 for the '55-'56 campaign, with Steve Barrell joining the starting five, much to his parents' joy. On the gridiron the team goes 5-5 which is a slight improvement, but the coach builds the offense about the team's quarterback - Steve Barrell - who has a sensational season and ends up making the All-American team. Dan admits to Gladys that he would not have been able to craft an offense so tailored for Steve's skills and feels vindicated in his decision not to step in as coach, adding that he still felt Gladys was "overreacting" about the stress of coaching negatively impacting his health. In June, Dan, Gladys and Steve are on hand to watch Michael Barrell be inducted into the United States Army as a 2nd Lieutenant following his graduation from Rome State.

FRED BARRELL
1956 is a relatively uneventful year for Fred as his superiors elect not to send him away and he spends the year working at his post at the U.S. Embassy in Ottawa, monitoring Soviet activities in Canada in conjunction with the Canadians. This allows him time to see his sons play hockey, a sport at which both excel -according to Jack Barrell, Hobie is a "superstar in the making." Fred figures if anyone would know, it'd be Jack.

TOM BARRELL
Tom spends another year as the Operations Director of NARF, working with James and -more often than not- James' wife Rose. He also plays golf with his nephew Freddy and is shocked to discover just how good the young man has become. Tom calls Rollie, who flies down to Georgia and after a couple of rounds, encourages Freddy to encourage going professional.

BOBBY BARRELL
Bobby is offered a hitting coach role by the Los Angeles Stars prior to the start of the season, and mulls it over for a day or two before turning it down. "I'm not patient enough for trying fix other guys' swings," he tells Annette. As she'd been thinking the same thing, but hadn't wanted to say it, she simply nods in agreement. "Plus I like this television thing," Bobby adds. "I get to go to every World Championship Series now, and not everyone can say that."

HARRY BARRELL
"We've caught lightnining in a bottle!" an excited Harry tells Ruth Barton during spring training. "This Denis kid... what an eye, what a swing. He's the best hitter I've seen since my brother Bob's gravy days. He's going to have a monster season." And rookie leftfielder Jack Denis goes out and proves his skipper right, hitting .347 with 45 homers and 127 RBIs to win the Triple Crown as well as the Kellogg Award as the Fed's top rookie and the Whitney Award as its most valuable player. He joins with Rick Masters to give Boston a pair of 40+ home hitters (Masters hits 43) and as a team, the Minutemen club 197 homers, nearly joining the 1947 Keystones (203) as the second team to club 200 or more homers in a season. And the team contends most of the season with New York, Detroit and Washington in a four-way race that ultimately is won by the Gothams. Still, an 82-72 season is a success for Harry's club. On the personal front, Harry gets drunk on what would've been his 17th wedding anniversary in mid-October and shows up at his former home to find another man there with Sarah and his kids. After nearly getting into a fight, Harry is pulled away by his son Reid, who pleads with his father to "go home and sober up." Harry does, then calls Ruth and tells her he wants to take her up on her offer of a trip to Las Vegas. They leave the next day, see Sinatra at the Sands on the second day and then get married on their third day in town.

TOM BOWENS
Tom leaves the Maroons after talking it over with Betsy. They agree to move to California, deciding on Los Angeles, where Tom takes a job coaching high school football. His plan is to land a job coaching with one of the west coast collegiate programs and it isn't long before his presence in town draws the attention of those programs.

DEUCE BARRELL
For the Cleveland Foresters 1956 started awful, got a whole lot better and then ended in disappointment, and Deuce was a big part of the whole thing. The team struggled out of the gate to a 17-29 mark and sat in last place. Manager Art Newton was hearing it from fans and media and quit. Deuce took it upon himself, dragging Adrian Czerwinski along, to go to owner Danny Potts and suggest that they promote Charley McCullough. To Deuce's surprise, Potts agreed, but warned, "He'll have a short leash, so he'd better turn this thing around." Lo and behold, Charley did just that. The Foresters posted a 74-34 mark the rest of the way and won the pennant. Czerwinski had another Czerwinski year, going 22-13, 2.73, but Deuce had a bit of a renaissance as well, with a 16-13, 3.50 mark. Despite a subpar year from Frenchy Sonntag and a season-ending injury to star shortstop John Low, Sherry Doyal, Tom Carr and late-addition Otis O'Keefe fueled an offense that scored the most runs in the Continental. And then the wheels fell off in the WCS. Adrian lost, Deuce too, and soon the Foresters were down 3-0 to the Gothams. They redeemed themselves a bit by winning the next two, but Deuce took his second loss of the Series in game six and New York claimed the title.

ROGER CLEAVES
Roger Cleaves suffered a bad year in 1956, hitting just .227 with 10 homers and 47 RBIs, a subpar performance by most standards, but most especially by the standards to which Roger held himself. To make matters worse, the years of crouching were taking their toll on Roger's knees and he began thinking about trying to move to first base. The team showed some improvement, finishing sixth with a 74-80 mark after adding slugging third baseman Lloyd Coulter (39 HRs) to pair with the star outfielder Buddy Miller (.349-36-113).

QUINTON POLLACK
Quinton stars for the Dukes, leading the league in goals (35), assists (60) and points (95). He is as disappointed as anyone by the team's loss in the Cup Finals, but enjoys the trip to Hawaii with the Barrells. It is a bittersweet experience for Agnes as it her first return to Hawaii since the war.

CHARLIE BARRELL
Charlie joined the Chicago Panthers for the 1955-56 season, hoping to get through the season without getting injured -or frostbite- before heading west for spring training with the Stars. Though management wasn't happy, Charlie left the team right after the All-Star break after playing 41 games and leading the team in minutes per game with 42.4 and was second in scoring with 14.7 ppg behind star center Luther Gordon (22.5). The Panthers finished 41-31 but were knocked out of the playoffs in the first round by Detroit (who were promptly swept by Rochester, who were swept in turn by the champion Washington Statesmen). Charlie joined the Stars in spring training and played well, earning a spot on the All-Star team with the game being played in the Stars' home ballpark. But fate struck as on the same day he was named an All-Star, Charlie suffered a hamstring injury and was out until late August. To add insult to literal injury, the Stars shipped him to Salt Lake City for rehab where he moped his way to a .194 average in eight games before being recalled to LA. In all, Charlie played 100 games, hit .333 and of his 136 hits, 25 were doubles, five were triples and 16 were home runs, giving him a .535 slugging percentage and a .911 OPS. To top off his year, his stepfather and Stars owner Tom Bigsby presented him with a contract for 1957 that included a salary of $103,550, making Charlie the 19th best-paid player in baseball.


---------------------- INTERSTITIAL ----------------------
January 13, 1956 - Chicago, IL:

The best part of playing basketball for the Chicago Panthers was that it allowed Charlie to spend time with his Uncle Dan and Aunt Gladys. It was almost like his high school days at Capitol Academy back in DC, when he lived with them during the school year.

Charlie was walking out of the Chicago Poly gym with his aunt, having just watched the Poly basketball team practice. His cousin Steve was a key player on the squad, and Gladys was about as knowledgeable about basketball as anyone Charlie had ever met. She’d been a scout once, and it showed.

"You know, I think Steve could be a good pro," Charlie said to his aunt.

Gladys smiled and gave Charlie a wry look. "I agree, but don’t tell him that," she replied. "I don’t want him getting a swelled head."

Charlie chuckled and was about to reply when he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, staring ahead. Gladys took another step before noticing.

"Charlie?" she asked, turning back toward him. "What is it?"

"It can't be," Charlie muttered, still staring ahead with a shocked look on his face.

Gladys turned to see what had Charlie so spooked. A young woman with a determined look on her face, bundled up against the cold, was walking toward them.

"Hello, Charlie," the woman said, stopping in front of him.

"Anna? What in the world are you doing here?" Charlie asked, still wide-eyed.

Gladys now wore a knowing smile. Charlie always had a way with women, and it often landed him in hot water. She listened intently while pretending to examine her glove.

"I’m working on my doctorate here," Anna replied.

"Here? Why?" Charlie blurted.

"Poly has an excellent physics program," Anna said calmly.

Charlie looked skeptical. "Uh-huh," he muttered.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" Anna asked, a hint of irritation creeping into her voice.

"Oh, nothing. I just don’t believe in coincidences, that’s all," Charlie retorted.

Anna frowned, then pointed at Gladys. "Who’s this?" she asked.

"My aunt, Gladys Barrell," Charlie explained. Gladys, realizing that pretending not to listen was no longer an option, stepped forward and shook hands with Anna, smiling warmly.

"Anna Czerwinski," Charlie said, introducing her.

"Technically, it’s Czerwinska," Anna corrected, turning to Gladys. "But Americans don’t really 'get' how Polish names work."

Gladys nodded, and Charlie frowned. "Why’s your name different from your brother’s?" he asked.

"See?" Anna said to Gladys with a smile. Then she turned back to Charlie. "Because I’m a woman," she explained.

"I’ve watched you play here in Chicago," Anna added casually.

Charlie was surprised, and it showed. "Really?"

"Of course. Why would I lie?" Anna said, looking slightly offended.

Without warning, Anna began critiquing his game. "You should arc your shot more. It’s too flat."

Gladys, hearing this, grinned from ear to ear. "Yes! His shot is too flat," she agreed enthusiastically.

Both women looked at Charlie, who now stood with his mouth slightly open, incredulous.

"I’ve told him that a dozen times," Gladys added, turning to Anna.

Anna nodded knowingly. "He’s a typical man; won’t listen to a woman."

"Hey! I’m standing right here!" Charlie protested.

"I need to get to class," Anna said abruptly. Then, to Charlie’s surprise, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. "Until next time, Charlie," she said, giving Gladys a quick smile. "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Barrell."

With that, Anna hurried off, leaving a stunned Charlie and a bemused Gladys standing there.

"I like her," Gladys said with a satisfied smile.

"She’s crazy," Charlie muttered, watching Anna as she walked away.

"Uh-huh," Gladys replied, her tone making it clear that she wasn’t buying it.
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MIKE BARRELL
Mike enjoys one final season of college basketball at Rome State, and had his best season statistically as he averaged 13.8 points, 4.7 rebounds and 3.4 assists per game for the Centurions who finished 18-11 on the year. He graduated in May and immediately went on active duty with the U.S. Army, joining the 2nd Infantry Division as an platoon leader.

STEVE BARRELL
Steve's 1955-56 basketball season goes well as he starts every game for Chicago Poly and averages 12.2 points, 4.3 rebounds and 2.4 assists per game. The team goes 17-14 and the highlight of the year for Steve is a late season 50-42 win over his brother's Rome State Centurions, a game in which Steve scores 10 points and Mike only six. On the gridiron, Steve shines as coach Ed Webber focuses the offense around his athletic quarterback. Steve is named an All-American as he rushes for 1180 yards on 197 carries, scoring eight rushing TDs. With the focus being on the ground, his passing totals are relatively modest: 37-for-67 for 355 yards, 2 TDs and 1 interception. The team posts a 5-5 mark and ahows marked improvement on both sides of the ball.

FREDDY BARRELL
Freddy spends 1956 working - both for his cousin James' NARF and for himself on his golf game where he plays in some amateur tournaments and makes plans to turn professional in 1957.

BENNY BARRELL
Benny's second year in junior hockey shows vast improvement over his first as he grows both physically and in his skills. He plays 64 games for the Hull Hawks and scores 83 points with 26 goals and 57 assists, showing a deft passing ability. His defensive work improves as well and Benny ends the year as a highly-regarded prospect. He is drafted fourth overall by the Detroit Motors, though his age means at least one more season with Hull before moving up to tougher competition.

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Steve Barrell, 1956 Football All-American
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