Inside the red-brick duplex on E Street in Macon’s housing projects, Charlie Finley sat across the dining room table from John Blue Moon Odom and his mother, Florine. Also at the table was Blue Moon’s high school coach, Robert Slocum, as close to a father figure as he’d had since his own father died when Odom was five. This was the first leg of Finley’s mission to sign America’s best amateur baseball talent.
“Well, whattya think?” he asked.
Finley had just slid a bonus contract in front of Blue Moon. It called for a payment of $75,000 up front and a first-year salary of $900 a month (the second most of anybody on the Barons).
“That’s a lot of money,” said Mrs. Odom, wide-eyed.
Indeed, it was the biggest bonus ever offered to a black athlete in America in any sport, and a larger amount than any Georgia athlete had ever received. It was substantially larger than the offers of the two closest bidders, the San Francisco Giants and the Boston Red Sox. Finley had helped his cause by being the only owner to personally show up to make his pitch for Blue Moon. And this wasn’t his first trip to Macon. He’d paid a visit to Odom’s house two weeks earlier, armed with the same persuasive powers that had earned him millions in the insurance business.
“Mr. Finley,” said Blue Moon, “I got a special request.”
“What’s that?”
“I want you to take $5,000 out of my bonus and give it to my mama’s church.”
Finley explained that Blue Moon would have to take out the money himself. “It’ll be a nice tax deduction,” he said.
“I’ll take your word for it,” said Blue Moon, glancing at Coach Slocum to make sure it was okay.
Shaking Finley’s hand, Blue Moon and his mother agreed to the deal. In addition to the $75,000, Finley had made three other promises that helped seal the deal. He’d fly Blue Moon up to Kansas City with him so he could spend a week working out with the big-league team. Finley wanted Manager Ed Lopat to personally observe his pitching motion and see if he could figure out how to get Moon to come more over the top on his curveball. It would be Blue Moon’s first time ever on a plane. Finley had already arranged for a reporter and a television crew to follow Blue Moon around Kansas City for a day.
Another promise was that Blue Moon would get to make his professional debut in his hometown of Macon. The Barons were due in next week. Finley explained that even if Lopat thought Blue Moon was ready for the big leagues immediately, he’d pitch that first game in Macon.
“It’ll be the biggest crowd in Macon history,” guaranteed Finley.
The last promise was that Finley would arrange for the purchase of the new Ford Galaxy that Blue Moon wanted, right down to the four-on-the-floor transmission and candy-apple-red paint job.
Technically, Blue Moon couldn’t sign the contract until after his graduation from Ballard-Hudson High the next day.
“I’ll be there,” promised Finley.
They celebrated by eating a fried chicken dinner, complete with collard greens, corn bread, and black-eyed peas. The Macon Telegraph reported the next day that Finley had cooked the dinner, but that wasn’t true. He did, however, help set the table and do the dishes. And just to make sure another team wouldn’t sneak in and steal the deal, he spent the night on a couch in the living room, outbidding by $2 the general manager of another big-league team who’d offered to pay Blue Moon’s mother $8 for the sleepover rights.
Even though it was over a week until Blue Moon’s debut, the media hype was already raging, especially in Macon. His signing had been a front-page headline, with the $75,000 figure right there in bold print for all to see. He’d been variously described as “a flame-throwing right-hander,” “a young man with a golden arm,” and a “hard-throwing young Negro.” Macon fans had already dubbed his debut “Blue Moon Night.” A photo of him standing between his mom and Finley, all of them smiling wide, went out over the wire services. For his arrival in Kansas City, a “horde of news media will be waiting for him when he steps off the plane.” The Kansas City Star was planning a full-page feature headlined JOHNNY ODOM’S FIRST DAY.
In the Macon Telegraph, a column by Harley Bowers titled “Sudden Fame and Fortune” expressed concern about how he’d handle all the pressure:
By the time all the TV, radio and newspaper guys are through with him, he might not even remember his name. One can only imagine the effect all this is likely to have on a boy who has never known luxury before. Odom may weather the deluge of publicity but this type of buildup and the sudden accumulation of some degree of wealth has ruined many a bonus baby.
If there has ever been a youngster under great pressure, it will be Odom on the night of his debut June 11. There is little doubt that his appearance on the mound for Birmingham against Macon will fill Luther Williams Field.
Odom’s future really depends on his own ability to keep his feet firmly on the ground and not let all this sudden fame go to his head. If he can stay on course, his natural ability may take him on to major league stardom.
Standing by the front door, his suitcase packed, Blue Moon waited for his mom to come out of the bathroom. It had all come so fast and furious for him in the last twenty-four hours—signing a $75,000 contract; walking across the stage at Ballard-Hudson High to receive his diploma; saying good-bye to Perrie, his high school girlfriend, and brushing away her tears. His mother warned him about getting too big a head. Later that morning, Finley would be coming to the house in a limousine to pick him up and take him to the airport for their flight to Kansas City… where a TV crew would be waiting.
Mrs. Odom walked into the living room wearing the same dress she always wore, the one to clean the white family’s house. Blue Moon moved in front of the door.
“Where you going?” he asked.
“To work,” she replied.
“Oh, no, you’re not.”
“Why you acting crazy?”
“Mama, you get on that phone right now and call those people and tell them you’re not coming today. Or tomorrow. Or any other day.”
“I can’t do that.”
“You saw that contract, didn’t you? It means you don’t have to never scrub no more floors. Not as long as I’m your son.”
A few minutes later, Florine Odom called the white family and said she wouldn’t be coming in today. Or any other day.
“And as soon as that money’s in the bank,” said Blue Moon, “I want you to go out and start looking for a new house for yourself.”