Boyd Humbled by Hall Selection
SWAC.org
Dec. 20, 2010
By Roscoe Nance -
Humility is not one of the character traits generally associated with Dennis “Oil Can’’ Boyd, the colorful and outspoken former Jackson State pitcher.
Boyd, rail thin at 6-1 and 155 pounds, was never shy about extolling his pitching prowess when he pitched at Jackson State nor during his 10-year Major League career. However, acknowledges being humbled when he learned that he had been selected for the SWAC Hall of Fame.
“It means a hell of lot in lot of ways,’’ he says. “To play in that conference was great. To be recognized by that conference is very special. To be with the elite in that conference is very special. This is the pick of the litter. Only the elite have gone in there.’’
Boyd, a right-hander, pitched for Jackson State from 1978-80. He was 20-5 with 12 saves, 165 strikeouts and a 1.71 earned run average. He bypassed his senior after the Boston Red Sox chose him in the 16th round of the 1980 Major League Baseball Amateur Draft. Boyd was 78-77 in 10 seasons with the Red Sox, Montreal Expos and Texas Rangers. He won a combined 31 games in 1985 and ’86 for the Red Sox.
“It’s been a long time coming,’’ Jackson State athletic director Bob Braddy, Boyd’s coach when he pitched for the Tigers, said of his former ace’s selection to the SWAC Hall of Fame. He certainly deserves it. He’s one of the best to come through our conference. Sometimes it takes time for things to happen. But it’s well-deserved.’’
Boyd earned the nickname Oil Can because of his beer drinking prowess. But Braddy says he was never discipline problem
“He was just energetic,’’ Braddy says.
Boyd’s fastball was consistently clocked at 95 mph. SWAC Hall Famer Wilbert Ellis, who coached baseball at Grambling State for 26 years, remembers him as a fierce competitor who pitched much bigger than his size.
“He always believed he could beat you,’’ Ellis says. “The thing about him was he just believed in himself. When he pitched, you knew you were in for a battle. He had so much will, fight and determination. He believed he could beat whoever he pitched against even when he was with the Red Sox. With his size, you never thought he could throw that hard. You can’t go by size. You had to beat at your best against. We tried to bunt on him and do a lot of things to get him confused and wild. He was tough to beat.’’
Boyd attributes his velocity to the back-breaking landscaping work he did with his father, Willie Boyd Sr., starting when he was five. His work day would begin at 4 a.m. and didn’t until 6 p.m., and he spent it lifting sod and concrete.
“I did a lot of heavy lifting,’’ Boyd says. “I got a hernia today from that. I was small in stature but strong in other ways. That back-breaking labor builds strength and stamina. It’s like going to the gym. You develop without knowing it. A lot of it is being gifted too. I was blessed with inner strength and a strong body.’’
Willie Boyd Sr. was a stern taskmaster, who demanded a full day’s work for a day’s pay.
“He worked people so they didn’t want their paycheck,’’ Boyd says. “They would tell him, ‘Just don’t pick me up tomorrow.’’
Willie Boyd Sr. was also something of a prophet.
“When I was 12, he told baseball would be like sweeping a floor,’’ Boyd says. “It will be the easiest thing you do in your life.’’
Boyd comes from baseball family in Meridian, Miss. He is a fifth generation player who can trace his baseball roots to Ben Boyd, a distant relative who played for the Cuban Giants – the first black professional baseball team in America – in 1880s.
Boyd’s uncle, K.T. Boyd, was a legendary semi-pro right-handed pitcher for the Meridian White Sox who was teammates with Satchel Paige at one time; another uncle, Frank Boyd, was a catcher for the White Sox, and still another uncle, Jake Boyd, was a left-handed pitcher. Boyd’s brother, Don, was an infielder in the St. Louis Cardinals’ farm system and another brother, Neal, was an outfielder for Jackson State.
However, Boyd says his oldest brother, Willie Jr., was the best athlete in the family. However, he was relegated to sandlot ball because he came along during segregation and his all black high school didn’t have a baseball team.
“I couldn’t carry his jock strap,’’ Boyd says, adding that with his rich family history in the sport, there was no question that he would be a baseball player.
“It’s in me,’’ he says of baseball. “It’s in my genes.’’
Boyd, operates a baseball school in Providence, R.I., and gives private lessons to youngsters, says he’s looking forward to children growing up and producing yet another generation of baseball playing Boyds. Until then, he continues to carry the family banner on the diamond at age 51.
He competes in fall leagues in Arizona and Florida and then heads to the Dominican Republic, where he plays winter ball.
“Dennis will play as long as he can walk,’’ Braddy says. Boyd is no longer a full-time pitcher. He mostly plays shortstop and third base.
“I love to swing the bat,’’ he says.
Braddy says he was a good enough athlete at Jackson State to play any number of positions for Jackson State could have been an All-American at shortstop.
“It just happened that he was our best pitcher,’ Braddy says.
Braddy, an accomplished semi-pro pitcher himself, played against Boyd’s uncles and signed him in him part because of his bloodlines.
“I went down to Meridian saw this ninth-grader who was the size of a pencil throwing the ball,’’ Braddy says. “He was really a competitor. He had a lot of heart and guts. I knew if we were able to get him, we’d have a jewel.’’
Jackson State had plenty of competition for Boyd. Traditional college baseball powers such as Arizona State, Florida State, Arizona, Georgia Tech and Mississippi State recruited him. Boyd says choosing Jackson State was a no-brainer and decision that he has never second-guessed.
“How could I not want to go to school where Walter Payton went to school?’’ he says. “The most positive part besides sports is how it helped me grow up. Being recognized as black athlete and being recognized as an individual and black man is another. I learned a lot about my culture and people. I wouldn’t give anything for those years.’’