Editor’s Note: Part 1 of “The Catch” ran in the February 2026 issue of Wheat Life.
That last day of harvest was marked by the cutting of the border between the families’ two fields. It was very early in the morning, earlier than usual, when Buck fired up his combine and started cutting, without even so much as a grease job. He wanted to be the first one to cut the border.
“Who else can cut it as straight as I can,” he thought. As he lined up with the border post on top of the hill, he could see another combine headed towards him on the same line.
Mac Wilson yelled in the cab of his red combine, “I’ll not be outdone by that green machine of his!”
The scene was viewed by both crews waiting in their grain trucks for the first load. They yelled to the other crew as both were parked near the border line, “Who’s going to be chicken?” They laughed and got out of their trucks to hear the impending crash of two headers grinding metal instead of wheat.
Mary and John glanced at one another but quickly turned away lest someone noticed the gleam in their eyes and give them grief. This was serious business to the crews. The pride of each farm was at stake. Both combine drivers were intensely staring at the imaginary border line as the ends of their headers were about to meet. Buck grabbed the CB and switched the channel to talk to Mac, but Mac had already switched to Buck’s channel, and both were claiming the right to cut the border and for the other guy to move over. The truck drivers were dying of laughter because they could hear the other boss talking on their CBs now. At the last second, both guys moved a couple of inches away so that the headers barely missed. In the end, they figured that it was more important for them not to crash and get the baseball game started — at least, that’s what they told everyone. Just a tiny strip of uncut wheat was left on the border which, when viewed by both men, gave them a sense of pride as to their driving skills.
Harvest was over for both crews, and they gathered at the pasture that had been transformed into a baseball field. Buck parked his green machine behind the backstop on the left side and Mac shut off his red combine on the right side. The preacher arrived to referee the game, but first he blessed the food and the game. After eating hamburgers and hot dogs with all the supporting salads, which were provided by the congregation, the coin was tossed. The Wilson family would be first at bat. The two patriarchs were the pitchers (who was going to question that decision). The lead changed numerous times throughout the game, and, by the seventh inning stretch, the teams were deadlocked at five each. Darkness had settled in, and the umpire was about to call the game over when he asked, “Maybe this is a good place to stop?”
“No way,” yelled both patriarchs. “Turn the truck headlights on and the combine field lights on. We aren’t stopping until someone wins!”
The preacher started laughing. “Are you two finally agreeing on something?”
So, engines started, lights came on, and the game resumed. Play continued until the final inning, when the contested call by Pastor Brown was declared that the runner from the Wilson family was out. That left the game tied but it was after 10 p.m. He boldly stood over home plate and declared, “Game over! Go home and get some sleep,” much to the consternation of the two bosses.
Everyone from the two harvest crews was in church that morning after the big game. Far be it that anyone should be missing, lest it show weakness. The altar did not have the usual flower bouquet, but instead, the wooden cross trophy sat there with two bouquets of wheat resting against its arms. The left shock of wheat was tied with a green ribbon, and the right side sported a red one. The preacher gave his message and then walked to the altar. “I found this wheat out in the middle of a field that happened to be left standing on the border between two different farms,” he said.
Mac and Buck glanced at each other. Pastor Brown took a couple of heads of wheat from each bundle and began to rub his hands together. Everybody was shocked to see the purple carpet of the church littered with chaff. The minister blew the last remaining awns and husks all over as he walked toward Buck and Mac and gave them each a half of what he had threshed.
“You can’t tell which grain came from which side of the cross, can you? It’s all been mixed together,” he said. Still staring at them, he spoke slowly and with authority. “The Lord of the harvest once said, ‘It is finished.’” The silence in the congregation was deafening.
The movie in John’s mind called “Memories” came to an end. He continued speaking to Tommy, “Things were different between the two families after the game. In fact, we would play baseball every year and invite the whole community to watch and to enjoy a picnic afterward to celebrate the end of harvest. I started dating your grandmother, too. We knew right away, in our hearts, that we were going to get married, and we did, soon after graduation. After the ceremony, we headed out the door of the church to go on our honeymoon. In this area, wheat instead of rice is gently thrown on the departing couple as a symbol of blessing. However, we noticed that the kernels were being thrown a little too harshly, not at us, but at the guys to the left and to the right of us.” John laughed and shed some happy tears.
“Grammy, I’ll push you back to the car now,” Tommy said.
Mary pushed her hat back into a more relaxed position and said, “Yeah, you better get us back before they send the authorities out to look for us escapees. Ha-ha!”
After Tommy got her seated and the air conditioner started, he headed back to where John was still standing behind home plate. “Grandpa, you’ve told me about the first game many times. I get all that, but you keep referring to ‘The Catch’ as the biggest thing about that game. You dropped the ball and the umpire called it a foul! Shouldn’t you refer to your story as ‘The Drop’ or something like that instead?”
He looked at his grandson and put one hand on his shoulder and said,
“Son, you’re wrong in thinking it’s about the ball or the ballgame.”
John turned and looked at Mary, now sitting in the back of the car, pointed with his cane and said, “It’s about her. She is ‘The Catch!’”
The End.
