Following discharge from the U.S. Navy after World War II in the mid-1940s, Monterey’s consummate sportsman and athlete Sam Hicks spearheaded the movement to form a baseball team. Much to his delight, Sam uncovered a deep versatile and eager talent pool representing all neighborhoods in and around town. The team designated no mascot or nickname but were content to proudly wear “Monterey” emblazoned on the chest of their uniforms. They received no compensation but played for the love of the game known at the time as America’s Past Time throughout the country.

Monterey affiliated with the Southern Kentucky Burley League with teams in Cookeville, Celina, Jamestown, Wilder and Mayland, in Tennessee and in Kentucky: Tompkinsville, Holland and Burkesville. Sparta was invited to join the circuit but the clubs all Black players were not comfortable with the prospect of playing in Monterey and Jamestown and respectively declined the invitation.

Home games were played on the Monterey Baseball field on the corner of E. Railroad Ave. and S. Whittaker St. in the Second Ward and in the heart of “Black Bottom.” Black Bottom got its name because most of the smoke, soot, grime and coal dust from the steam engines and coal trains in the heyday of the Tennessee Central Railway had a tendency  to settle in that particular section of town because the major installations and infrastructure of the railroad were primarily in the Second Ward. The depot, the roundhouse, the shops, maintenance-of-way department, the coal shute, two wyes, the bulk oil plant, the locomotive service pits, a five-track switch yard (including the main line), the section crew headquarters, the waterspout, two water towers, the sand bin, the icehouse, the freight office, the tie yard and the ash collection gantry.

The diehard fanatical fan base was anchored on by Charlie Hedgecough, John King, Orphus, and Carson Tudor. Orphus and Carson never missed a game from the cozy confines of their side porch just across the street from the ballpark. Once the players erected a fence around the field and built a roofed grandstand along the first base line, totally obstructing their view from home, they were forced to leave their cushioned porch seats for the hard plank of the new bleachers.

Charlie and John were by far the most vocal and constantly razed the players from visiting teams. They always had a big time at the old ballyard. John would always sit behind the backstop shading toward the visiting teams dugout and next to the on-deck circle, Batters awaiting their turn were always subject to his good-natured banter designed to disrupt and unnerve. John was known as “Honest” John around town. How he acquired that handle remains to be a story yet untold but is was oh, so apt. One hot Sunday afternoon, John was heckling a batter in the on-deck circle. He bet the sweaty player a dollar that he could not get a hit. The visitor took the bet and strode up to the plate and promptly tapped a blooper into the shallow right field for a single. Immediately after reaching first base, the jubilant player called “time” and strutted with his hand out to where John was sitting. John plucked a dollar from his wallet, stood up like a man, and made good on his wager to the grinning player. John then sat back down and continued needling the next player to stop into the circle as if nothing happened.

Another memorable moment happened at a game in Cookeville. A Cookeville runner rounded third base enroute for home and scored. Instead of executing a nifty slide, he chose to bowl over the Monterey catcher. Now Buford was a personable fun-loving guy packaged in a bulky powerful physique. Just before the impact, he dipped his left shoulder and lifted the hard charging runner into an airborne somersault. While the stunned player lay limp and sprawled in the dirt, a good way from the plate, Buford swaggered over to him and gently applied the tag.

Coyle Harris was the ace of the pitching staff. He had control of his pitch location, rarely blew up and worked himself out of jams in a methodical way. He had a smoking fastball, a wicked curve, a tricky drop or sinker, and a slow-motion change up among other deceptive weapons in his arsenal. Many a startled base runner was nailed by his pick-off move. Coyle could also hit, run the bases and field with the best of them. When he wasn’t on the mound, he alternated with another pitcher, Mark Baker, at first base, where he displayed his skills with the glove.

The mighty slugger of the team was Elmer “Pea Patch” Parsons who could belt the ball a county mile. The nickname “Pea Patch” originated from non other than John King, who mused aloud as Elmer’s frequent blasts with the bat cleared and vanished beyond the ballfield fences and that the ball landed in the pea patch on down the road.