When a batter gets hit in the head with a fastball, they usually see stars. But when Cyclones slugger J.R. Voyles got plunked last Friday night, everyone in the ballpark saw fireworks.
And even without the pyrotechnic display to amplify it, it was — without question — the scariest moment season.
With the Cyclones trailing the Vermont Lake Monsters 1-0 at Keyspan Park in the bottom of the 10th inning, Voyles took a 95-mph fastball off the head.
Moments later, as he lie on the ground, Coney Island’s 10 pm fireworks show began just beyond the outfield fence, making for a surreal scene on the field.
“I was looking for a slider away, because that’s the way they had been pitching me,” a recovering Voyles said the next day. “So I was leaning in towards the plate.”
Instead, vermont right-hander Alberto Tavarez threw a high-and-tight pitch that bounced off Voyles helmet and into his eye.
“By the time I recognized the pitch as a fastball,” said Voyles, “it was too late.”
The ball hit Voyles’ helmet, making a loud cracking sound that was heard throughout the ballpark.
The crowd gasped, and then talked in hushed whispers as Voyles lay still on the ground.
Cyclones’ radio announcer Warner Fusselle reported the incident without trying to alarm Voyles’ parents, who, he (correctly) suspected, were listening to the broadcast. Fusselle spoke in soft tones as the sudden silence left no need for him to talk above the crowd noise.
Medical personnel rushed to the scene as Voyles lay slumped in the right-hand batter’s box.
Voyles upper body was inert, facing towards center field, head down, but then he started kicking his legs just as the fireworks lit up the sky.
As more medical personnel rushed to Voyles, the fireworks, from the boardwalk area in back of left-center field, increased in height, volume and intensity.
Voyles struggled to sit up. Then he saw the blood streaming from the cut above his eye.
“I saw my own blood and felt sick,” said Voyles.
He again stretched flat on the ground.
As the fireworks continued, smoke from the fireworks began to envelop the ballpark.
The smoke became like pea soup, and players left the field to wait in the dugouts.
For about 15 minutes, Voyles was attended to on the field as the fireworks continued, and the smoky haze increased.
Concerned with Voyles’ condition, the crowd maintained a respectful silence during the fireworks. When the show concluded there was some applause — seemingly from children unaware of the possible gravity of Voyles’ situation.
Finally, there was more applause — uneasy applause — as Voyles was carried from the field on a stretcher.
After treatment at Lutheran Medical Center, Voyles was back at Keyspan Park the next day, his left eye bruised and closed, with 40 stitches above the eye and contusions around the eye socket.
Voyles didn’t make the road trip to Lowell, Massachusetts, staying in Brooklyn for more doctor’s appointments.
He was, however, hoping to a speedy return to the Cyclones’ line-up.
The Cyclones ended up losing the game 1-0.
