100 years after Herb ‘Buckshot’ May got a shot at pitching in the big leagues
BAKERSFIELD, Calif. (KGET) — A century ago – May 9, 1924 – a lean, sinewy figure strode to the mound at Forbes Field, his distinctive bow-legged gait as unfamiliar to the fans of the Pittsburgh Pirates as his angular jaw and sun-burned, farm-boy ears.
Six-foot-one William Herbert May, a native of Maricopa, was finally getting his chance. His first opportunity to pitch in the major leagues – exactly 100 years ago, against the Boston Braves.
The Braves didn’t offer much punch – they would go on to lose 100 games that season and finish dead last in the National League.
When it came to colorful monikers, the Braves were a regular murderer’s row. Their nominees for the league’s all-nickname team included players who called themselves Dutch, Cotton, Red, Rube and Stuffy. But none had anything on the lanky right-hander from Bakersfield. His distinctive alias: Buckshot.
Why Buckshot? Because, as the story goes, his screwball was hard and nasty, but he was as liable to plunk the hitter on his backside as he was to find the strike zone. In fact, his nickname was originally Scattershot, because, just like a sawed-off 12-gauge, a blast from his right arm could end up anywhere within a wide swath of the batter’s box. Teammates found the nickname Scattershot a bit of a mouthful, though, so it became simply Buckshot.
Buckshot was just 22 when the Pittsburgh Pirates signed him to a minor league contract and shipped him off to their Western League affiliate in Omaha, Nebraska. By his second season in 1923, Buckshot was a known commodity, a star on the rise. As the staff ace of the Omaha Buffaloes that season, he won 18 games and lost 15 over just five months. That’s 33 decisions in 23 weeks, practically unheard of in today’s game. Then, in August, the parent club called him up to the bigs and, at age 24, Buckshot’s major league career had arrived – right on schedule.
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Buckshot had been a starting pitcher throughout this career, but Pittsburgh’s Hall of Fame manager, Bill McKechnie, saw him as a late-inning reliever, and the last one out of the bullpen at that. It was more than a month into the 1924 season before Buckshot got into his first game.
May 9th, to be exact. Somehow the hapless Braves had scored 10 runs on the Pirates that Friday afternoon, and they were leading by three when the game entered the ninth inning. By that point the contest was largely devoid of drama – the perfect occasion for an untested major league rookie with a wild streak to come in for some ninth-inning mop-up work.
Two Braves batsmen stroked singles off Buckshot, but he caught one of them leaning too far from first base and picked him off. Then, after inducing the next batter to hit a harmless pop fly, Buckshot ended the inning with a flourish, striking out the final batter.
It was the last pitch he ever threw in the major leagues. Why is a mystery. Did he injure himself? Did he have a falling out with manager McKechnie? Were the Pirates simply so deep with pitching they didn’t need him? It’s true that the Pirates had a great collection of arms, one that would lead them to a World Series title the following year.
None of the above. Buckshot claimed team owner Barney Dreyfuss had promised him a raise from his salary of $400 a month, and when Dreyfuss reneged, the two argued – and Dreyfuss cut him loose.
Buckshot is one of 62 pitchers in major league history to have pitched one inning or less in their entire big-league careers.
Oh, but Buckshot wasn’t done after that day in Pittsburgh. He pitched 10 more seasons. Just not in the bigs.
He pitched professionally for a total of 14 years – mostly in the Pacific Coast League for the Seattle Indians, Oakland Oaks, and San Francisco Seals.
The beginning of the end came in 1935 when Buckshot, an offseason oilfield drilling supervisor, was injured on the job. The toes of his left foot were crushed in the drilling rig machinery, requiring the amputation of all five toes. That spring, despite the injury, he signed with the Class-D Bakersfield Bees of the California State League.
“He’ll be back as soon as his foot heels,” the Bees manager promised, but it took a year for Buckshot to function. And when he did return to the diamond., in 1936, it was as player-coach of the Bakersfield Athletics. At age 37, Toeless Herb May was not the same player.
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Buckshot eventually moved to South America, where he worked as a drilling rig supervisor for 17 years. In Peru he met a young woman, started a second family and was tempted to stay. Eventually, however, he returned to Bakersfield, worked a few more years in the oil industry, then retired to a life of leisure – and to many games of lowball poker. And he was pretty good at it, according to no-hit pitcher George Culver, who was also a regular.
William Herbert “Buckshot” May died in Bakersfield on March 15th, 1984 at the age of 84. His career minor league pitching record was 149 wins and 110 losses, with four 20-win seasons and a pristine major-league earned-run average of zero-point-zero-zero. He was inducted into the Bob Elias Kern County Hall of Fame on February 9, 1984, a month before his death. At his industion he was cited as having been the first local athlete to play a major league professional sport – brief as it was, in Buckshot’s case.
One shot. One opportunity. One inning. He was a Kern County sports pioneer because of it — and it happened exactly 100 years ago.
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