A Goodbye to Muddy and the Mudcats

Friends' nights out, company outings, fun or awkward dates, or just having nothing to do on a muggy July Wednesday—these are a few reasons I spent so many nights at Five County Stadium watching the Carolina Mudcats.

The Carolina Mudcats are leaving their home at the corner of Highway 264 and 97 at Wake County's eastern tip. They’re moving a half hour east to Downtown Wilson and will be called the Wilson Warbirds next season. Muddy and the Mudcats will be gone.

My first memories of the Mudcats were when they were the Double-A affiliate of my hometown Pittsburgh Pirates.  

I delivered the afternoon Pittsburgh Press in the early 1990s. On my route, I’d read the sports pages, and the logo immediately caught my eye. Add Tim Wakefield’s 1992 rookie season, and I had my first of many Mudcats ballcaps.

A late summer evening with the Mudcats.

I was reintroduced to the Mudcats when I moved to Raleigh in 2003.  By then, the Mudcats were already second fiddle to the Durham Bulls.  But for the next two years, I found myself heading out, cutting across the many backroads of Eastern Wake County to go to Mudcats games.  When I returned to Raleigh in 2007, after two years in Albany, New York, back to Five County I went.  For the next ten years, more than a handful of games each season would be with friends, then later with my wife, and near the end with our oldest son, Colton.

When we moved to Charlotte in 2018, a stuffed Muddy the Mudcat given to me by friends for my 40th birthday came with us.

Sunset at Five County Stadium.

The best way I can describe the Mudcats and Five County Stadium is by comparing them to the more popular Durham Bulls.  Attending a Bulls game is about being seen and being part of the crowd.  A Mudcats game is almost like watching Field of Dreams.  (Don't get me wrong - I love going to Bulls games.  It has its own vibe and some of the best pure baseball memories I have come from the DBAP.)

I don't know, but maybe it's because the Mudcats couldn't be in Raleigh and were located at a seemingly random point 35 miles away from the Durham Bulls, that those who went to the games were there because they wanted to.  There was a "Friday Night Lights" feel to it, too - this was the hometown team for many small towns, Zebulon, Wendell, Knightdale, Spring Hope, and the many rural, blink-and-you'd-miss-it communities in the rural counties east of Raleigh.

What I enjoyed about Mudcats game was how close you could get to the game.

Mudcat games were just different.  The stadium wasn't fancy - it pretty much sprouted out of an old tobacco field - and in some way, it was just perfect.  It was the playing field awash in the evening glow of a setting sun.  On warm, lazy summer nights, it seemed like you were just sitting on the front porch watching time go by.  You could transport yourself to the movie "Field of Dreams" and Ray Kinsella's Iowa farm.

There were silly things too - the seemingly push-button sound effects and keyboard demo music between batters.  The infamous, stare-directly-into-the-sun bleachers along the right field line.  But it didn't matter.  It was the Mudcats, and that was ok.

And you can't forget Muddy, the team's mischievous mascot. Muddy wasn't silly or cartoonish.  He always seemed to find or cause trouble, yet get out of it with a knowing nod.  I have to admit, Muddy will always be my favorite mascot.

For a long while, the Mudcats had a slogan, "The Magic of Baseball." At times, the slogan would seem corny to me.  But looking back, they were right - there was something magical about the Mudcats.  I'm going to miss them.

All photos taken by post author - 2007 - 2017.