In April 1974, members of the national press descended upon Shannon, Mississippi—population 575—the epitome of a sleepy Southern town. The reporters scurried to be the first to reach the home of a gaunt, elderly farmer named Guy Terrell Bush. The spry 72-year-old, who most mornings would've been atop his tractor, was eager to talk, per usual, about a singular event that had, for better or worse, come to define his life in a fashion that only the fertile, black soil from whence he came could transcend. What could this gentleman have done to garner the nation's attention? The answer is indirectly related to Hank Aaron, who had belted his record-breaking 715th home run the night before. Some 39 years earlier, Bush—aka "The Mississippi Mudcat"—a good, sometimes great hurler with an eventual 176 victories to his name, had served up the final two long balls of Babe Ruth's career.
"I meant to throw three fastballs by him [Ruth] and watch the crowd laugh," joked Bush, who was toiling for the Pirates that fateful day in May 1935. The excited septuagenarian went on to describe what came next: "The first one I threw was just a tiny bit outside and he looked it over like it was a softball. . . . I got a signal for another fastball, and I came through with one. He got ahead of the ball and hit it over the triple deck, clear out of the ballpark. I’m telling you, it was the longest cockeyed ball I ever saw in my life. . . . Babe couldn't run much anymore. But he just smiled nicely to me as he rounded third. I tipped my hat." The Herculean blast—the third home run of the day for Ruth, who had touched up Red Lucas for #712 and Bush for #713 in earlier at-bats—was the first in Forbes Field history to clear the right-field grandstands; some estimates put the distance at 600 feet. When he got back to the Braves dugout, Ruth exclaimed, "Boy, that last one felt good." It would turn out to be the final long ball of Babe's storied career, and his last of several memorable run-ins with "The Mississippi Mudcat." (Bush is portrayed by Richard Tyson in the 1992 biopic The Babe, starring John Goodman.)
Born in 1901, near the banks of the sprawling Tombigbee River in Aberdeen, Mississippi, Bush was one of six siblings. His father, George, was a struggling farmer with a love for alliteration: the children's names were Gahal, Gay, Gazell, Gertrud, Granville, and Guy. The family later moved to Shannon, located some 10 miles south of Tupelo, Mississippi—a city later made famous as the birthplace of Elvis Presley. In 1916, Guy began attending a local high school, the Tupelo Military Institute, where he discovered baseball. By the time of his graduation, Bush had set several school pitching records; the principal was impressed, loaning the phenom a modest amount of money to be repaid out of future baseball income. The headmaster's investment would prove sound. Bush soon joined the Greenville Swamp Angels of the Cotton States League; relying upon a sneaky fastball, pinpoint control, and his signature "hop-toad" delivery, Guy tossed shutouts in both ends of a doubleheader in just his second outing. Luckily for Bush, a Chicago Cubs scout was in attendance for his double-shutout performance. (With a seemingly unlimited number of minor leagues in operation, making the majors, no matter your skill-set, was in most cases a matter of pure luck in those days.) The youngster was at first reluctant to sign but had a change of heart when offered a $1,200 bonus—a huge sum for a farmer in Mississippi whose yearly salary averaged around $250 per year. Bush later attributed his hesitance to the "sinful things" he'd been told about the big city.
The 6-foot, 165-pound righty briefly joined the Cubs in 1923, tossing exactly one inning of relief, allowing one hit and fanning two in the scoreless frame. The following year, Bush impressed during spring training; manager Bill Killefer bragged that the kid has a "mighty neat curve ball and plenty of speed." Guy made the big league club for good in 1925; splitting time between the rotation and bullpen, the 23-year-old went 6-13 with a 4.30 ERA (his four saves led the NL).
Bush began the 1926 season slowly before catching fire in mid-July. Following his ninth win of the year, an impressive four-hit shutout versus Brooklyn on August 23, the New Britain Daily Herald noted: "Guy Bush also accomplished some record baseball. Bush pitched his twenty-first successive scoreless inning, [and] has allowed only nine hits in his last 27 frames." The burgeoning star finished the year with 13 wins, nine losses, and a 2.86 ERA over 15 starts and 20 relief appearances. Bush's performance earned him a regular spot in the rotation in 1927. That May, Guy went the distance in an epic 18-inning game versus the Braves, allowing just two runs as Chicago emerged victorious, 7-2. Battling through injuries, he finished the year with 10 wins, nine CGs, and a club-best 3.03 ERA. Bush put together another solid season in 1928, going 15-6 with a 3.83 ERA.
Guy began the 1929 season on a roll, winning 15 of his first 16 starts (he allowed a single run over 51 IP at one point). An Associated Press article advised readers "who insist that pitching is a lost art," to look at Bush and his recent dominance for proof that the "lively ball" could be conquered. It would be a stellar year for Bush, as he, along with Charlie Root (19 wins) and Pat Malone (22 wins), would help lead the Cubs and their powerful offense—including Hall of Famers Rogers Hornsby (.380, 39 HR, 149 RBI), Hack Wilson (.359, 39 HR, 159 RBI), and Kiki Cuyler (.360, 15 HR, 102 RBI)—to the NL pennant and a showdown with the powerhouse Athletics in the 1929 Fall Classic.
Bush may have been the most indispensable of Chicago's hurlers in 1929; he served the dual role of starter/relief ace, much like Allie Reynolds with the Yankees some two decades later. The versatile righty posted an 18-6 record with 18 CGs and a 3.66 ERA, while leading the NL in appearances (50) and saves (8). He topped off the year by supplying Chicago's lone win in Game Three of the World Series: Bush held Philadelphia's stable of imposing sluggers—Jimmie Foxx, Mickey Cochrane, Al Simmons, Mule Haas, Bing Miller—at bay with a sublime combination of cunning and control, allowing nothing but singles in the 3-1 victory.
Following his impressive 1929 campaign, Bush—besides being a hero back home—became something of a celebrity around Chicago. Perhaps embarrassed by his Southern accent and stories in the press that described him as a "country bumkin," Bush began driving luxury automobiles and wearing expensive suits; one local sportswriter cited him as "the second best-dressed man in Chicago," behind only Al Capone. Noted for his frolicsome yet hospitable demeanor, Bush put his newfound notoriety to good use, opening a chain of filling stations in the Chicago area; to show that he wasn't about to become a pampered "city boy," Bush himself pumped gas at one of the establishments. 
In one of the many interviews given that off-season, Bush described his unique "hop-toad lunge" delivery which left him in an odd squatting position. "I found that I can get more hop on my fastball if I come forward with everything I got,” Bush explained. He took a very long stride, much like latter-day power-pitchers, to shorten the distance to home plate; Guy said the only drawback was a perpetually skinned right knee. Despite the awkward landing caused by his delivery, Bush was, in fact, one of the top fielding pitchers of the day, twice posting a perfect 1.000 fielding percentage and finishing either first or second among NL hurlers in putouts on three occasions.
The 1930 season was a hitter's paradise—the NL hit .303 as a whole (that'll get you top-ten finish in the batting race these days)—and Bush was not immune to the offensive onslaught, posting a wildly inflated 6.20 ERA; he still managed a 15-10 record thanks to his slugging teammates. Guy followed that by going 16-8 with a 4.49 ERA in 1931; the season was highlighted by two one-hitters, one of which was at first thought to be a no-no (a post-game scoring reversal robbed him of a place in the record books). Despite his strikingly gaunt appearance, Bush was noted for his strength and endurance; in a 1931 Associated Press article entitled "Salads and Cigars," Guy jokingly described his workout routine: "I smoke several cigars a day, eat sparingly, and just study baseball."
The 1932 season would be among Bush's best: the 30-year-old, now among the highest-paid hurlers in the game, went 19-11 with a 3.21 ERA as the Cubs took home the NL pennant. In the Fall Classic, Bush was named Game One starter versus the mighty Yankees; he was hit hard, allowing eight runs over five innings. Nonetheless, Bush would go on to play a memorable, if not infamous, role in the Series.
The 1932 World Series is best remembered for Babe Ruth's "Called Shot" off Charlie Root in Game Three: The Cubs' bench had been razzing Babe all day, with Bush being the most vocal of the hecklers. With the count evened up at two balls and two strikes during the historic at-bat, Ruth yelled to the Cubs dugout, "That’s only two strikes boys," at which time Bush began shouting a string of vitriolic insinuations. According to the Chicago Tribune: "Then, with a warning gesture of his hand to Bush, [Ruth] sent the signal for the customers to see, as if to say, ‘Now this is the one.’ " The next pitch was deposited into the center field bleachers; whether or not Ruth called his shot is beside the point—it was one of the most dramatic homers of all-time.
Following Ruth's mighty blow, the majority of the 49,000-plus in attendance at Wrigley Field grew silent; the vociferous Mississippian wasn't among them. Sent to warm-up in the left-field bullpen during the ninth inning, Bush began hurling more insults at Ruth, who was in left that day. The over-the-top antics seemed to amuse the good-natured "Colossus of Clout"; at one point, Ruth took Bush's "advice" and moved closer to the foul line. Following Chicago's final out, Babe playfully yelled to Guy: "Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Joe."
"I got my new screwball down," declared Bush prior to the 1933 season. The 31-year-old put the pitch to good use, posting his finest season: 20-12 with 20 CGs, four shutouts, and a career-best 2.75 ERA. His 20th win came against arch-rival, and fellow Southerner, Dizzy Dean. "I get more satisfaction out of beating that guy once than I do winning from anyone else twice,” effused Bush in a post-game interview. Guy followed the 20-win campaign with his last great season, as he went 18-10 with a 3.83 ERA in 1934.
Bush joined the Pirates in 1935, with whom he posted a 4.56 ERA over the next two seasons. The aging hurler's last hurrah came with the 1937 Boston Bees (Braves), as he went 8-15 with a respectable 3.54 ERA, completing 11 of his 20 starts. Released by the Cardinals after only six games in 1938, the 43-year-old would attempt a comeback with the 1945 Reds before calling it quits for good. 
All told, Bush posted a 176-136 record with a 3.86 ERA over 2,722 innings pitched. He still ranks as the sixth-winningest hurler (152 wins) in Cubs history; only Ferguson Jenkins (167) has amassed more franchise victories since 1934. Among the best ever at successfully pitching to contact, Guy never struck out more than 84 batters in a season, finishing his 17-year career with only 850 Ks. Though famous for serving up long balls to Babe Ruth, the sluggers to give Bush the most trouble were Mel Ott (.366, 7 HRs, 17 RBI), Chuck Klein (.379, 6 HRs, 18 RBI), and Rogers Hornsby (.450, 5 HRs, 16 RBI). "The Mississippi Mudcat" did, however, perform admirably versus several Cooperstown-bound batsmen, including Paul Waner (.217), Hack Wilson (.235), Joe Medwick (.244), Freddie Lindstrom (.248), Chick Hafey (.250), and Jim Bottomley (.262).
Following his retirement, Bush stayed in baseball for a few years—he managed the Battle Creek Belles of the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League in 1951 and '52—before purchasing a 50-acre farm back home in Shannon, Mississippi. Often seen tooling around town in his old pickup truck, Guy liked to be seen and loved to regale the locals with tales of his glory days. Throughout the 1950s and '60s, one was likely to see Mr. Bush throwing the ball around with eager youngsters, who enjoyed trying to catch (or hit) his still impressive curveball. Well-liked by neighbors and townsfolk, Bush—who sold corn and other crops directly to the public—received a steady stream of visitors; he likely made a nice profit selling his harvest to fans whose true purpose was an audience with the famed "Mississippi Mudcat."
On a personal note, my father's family has lived in and around Shannon for decades, which is how I first heard of Bush and his exploits. My grandfather and namesake, Bobby King—an avid baseball fan—was one of Guy's friends and biggest admirers. My Dad, though never particularly interested in baseball as a kid, says that his father made it a point to tell him about Mr. Bush's accomplishments each time the former Cubs great drove by. In recent weeks, I've heard from dozens of locals who fondly recall their encounters with Bush. They almost universally describe him as a grandfatherly type who, besides never turning down an autograph request, was jovial, patient, and generous. One longtime resident who visited with Mr. Bush as a child likened the experience to that of meeting Santa Claus.
In July 1985, Guy Terrell Bush suffered a fatal heart attack while working in his garden; he was 83 years old. Mr. Bush was laid to rest in the Shannon Cemetery; my grandfather, who preceded his idol in death some 15-years earlier, is buried only a few feet away. – BK2 ℹ Sources: https://www.baseball-reference.com + https://www.djournal.com/ + https://sabr.org/bioproj/person/9c9bf76f#sdendnote11sym + https://sabr.org/…/october-1-1932-babe-calls-his-shot-or-do… + https://news.wttw.com/2014/03/27/babe-ruth-s-called-shot + https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov + https://www.chicagotribune.com/ + https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guy_Bush
