Earl Austin Jr. throws ceremonial first pitch at St. Louis Cardinals game on April 17

The St. Louis Cardinals and New York Mets played a memorable 20-inning game on Saturday, April 17 at Busch Stadium. The St. Louis Cardinals and New York Mets played a memorable 20-inning game on Saturday, April 17. It was also a memorable game for me to attend as well, but for an entirely different reason. Long before Cardinals outfielder Ryan Ludwick grounded out to complete the near seven-hour marathon, I had the honor of throwing out the ceremonial first pitch before the game.

 I never dreamed that I would be in a position of throwing out the first pitch before a Cardinals game in front of 40,000 people. But there I was, standing on the mound, representing The St. Louis American for African American Heritage Day.

 For the record, I threw a perfect strike to Cardinals’ outfielder Joe Mather, who gave me a nice compliment as he signed my ball. The moment of truth of when I let go of the ball seemed natural, but the days and moments leading up to that first pitch were anything but.

 I must admit to being quite nervous about this moment after being asked to do it last Tuesday from our COO Kevin Jones at The American. Sure, I wanted to have fun and enjoy this special moment. At the same time, I didn’t want to be the guy who appeared on the sports blooper shows for sailing a pitch over Mather’s head or throwing one straight in the dirt. As a former athlete, those competitive instincts started to kick in. Fear of failure started to drive me.

 During my career in sports, I have played in hundreds of basketball games at the high school and college level. As a media member, I have been interviewed countless times on radio and television, plus I have done numerous public speaking appearances and been the emcee of several awards banquets in front of large audiences. I even got married last summer in a crowded church.

 I was never more nervous that I was on last Saturday. Nothing prepares you for something like being all alone on the pitching mound with 40,000 sets of eyes watching to see if you will mess up this moment. I may not have shown it at the time, but I was feeling the pressure to live up to the moment.

 However, I was just as excited as I was nervous. The first thing I did was call my father in Florissant and my brother Richard, who is playing baseball in Rockford, Ill. They are the true baseball fans in the family, so I knew they would be thrilled. I then told the rest of my family.

 On Friday, I decided to tell the lunch-time crew that I hang out with almost every day: the St. Louis Basketball Mafia. I hesitated to tell these guys, because they are a bunch of wise guys. I knew I would get the business from them about not messing up. True to their word, they let me have it pretty good after I told them.

 “Don’t come back to this table if you throw one in the dirt” and “Earl, you better not (expletive) this one up” were a few of the zingers that I received from my friends. They were merciless.

 On the day of reckoning, I got up at 7 a.m. and went over to my father’s house and got three baseballs from my brother’s ball bag. I went over to Wiehaupt Park in Florissant, which was the place where my brother grew up playing ball for my father with the Florissant Trojans. On my way to the park, my brother calls me to give me some good advice.

 Richard tells me to put some air underneath the ball because I will be throwing from the raised mound. If I try to throw a line drive, the ball will go straight into the dirt. It was great advice

I ventured to the pitcher’s mound and had myself a little practice session. I threw about 20 pitches against the backstop before calling it a day and returning home.

 At 1:15 p.m., my wife Judy and I headed downtown to the stadium. She was driving because I was a little too nervous. I didn’t realize how nervous I was until I found myself barking at my wife about everything on the drive. When we got off at the wrong exit, I even accused her of trying to make me late to the park on purpose. I was a little wound up.

 At about 2:45 p.m., I am on the field posing for pictures for Fredbird before the big moment. Then, I walk out to the mound while public address announcer John Ulett is introducing me. I was not thinking about anything at the time.

 When I got to the mound, I just turned and saw Joe Mather behind the plate and squatting in the catcher’s position. I just stepped and let it fly. The ball landed easily in Mather’s glove, right down the middle.

Man, was I ever relieved to have that experience behind me. It is something that I will never forget.

  (This story also appeared in the April 22 edition of the St. Louis American in Earl Austin Jr.’s Inside Sports Column).

Photo by Bill Greenblatt (UPI)