I've been thinking bout my roots lately, and some of you may not be surprised to hear that my roots grow towards the shade.

Haddix. I get lots of compliments on my last name. H-A-D-D-I-X. Double D's and an X. Recently a Beautiful Young Lady informed me that it's kinda a rock star name. True.

I've always believed that the name derives from Haddock. The haddock is a medium-sized member of the cod family. A 'sad, English fish,' it is popular table fare througout the UK. The mating call of a male haddock sounds like a motor bike revving its engine.



Haddix. Haddock. Derived from the haddock, a handsome fish, I'd say. So I've got fisherman blood coursing through my veins. Swarthy genes. Like the mythical Archibald Haddock, Merchant Marine, whisky loving Captain of the Karaboudjan, and famous wit. Captain Haddock's talent lied in alliterative insults: Two-Timing Tartan Twisters, for instance.

The maritime connection abides. Haddix, Haddock. Good enough for a Navy submarine, good enough for me. That's right, the USS Haddock, "served her country in the effort to keep the world free of communist tyranny and helped bring about the demise of the Soviet Empire, 1967-1993." But a bit of a shining light for a Haddix, eh? Well, my uncle piloted a boat, mos def.

I don't feel the need to prove the point, but my people are down home folk. We've been around for a bit, but made our way west starting on the South Haddix Trail, West Virginia. South Haddix Trail runs parallel to the Cheat River, no shit. Follow that trail far enough, and maybe you'll end up in Haddix, Kentucky, that great, white beacon of rural poverty. But yo, this is where my people are buried, and we shan't talk ill of the dead.



The W.W. is for William Washington. William Washington Haddix. A strong Appalachian name, no? William Washington wed Orlena. These names! My grandmother's name is Virginia. She has sisters named Ruby, Wanda, Zell, Crystal, and probably eight or nine more I can't recall. Admittedly, she's a Stewart from Missouri, but the tradition for pastoral names is the same. My mother's name is Mary Jane. You'll recall from The Grapes of Wrath the Joad's daughter, Rose of Sharon. Rosasharn.

White, Anglo-Saxon, and Protestant, indeed. But you'd never mistake a Haddix for a WASP. Hell, we got men named Moonchild and Leeland Ray, and we shoot on sight. Grifters, you say? Well, I don't disappoint. We came west along the Cheat River and set up shop in the Great Central Valley of California. Bankruptcy troubles in Modesto? Contact my brother at the Haddix Law Firm. This mope's got your back... for a price!

Maybe a bit rough around the edges, but our shining star's a softy. A kitten in fact. Harvey 'The Kitten' Haddix, lefty pitcher for several teams during the '50's and early '60's. He was a three-time all star, and won two games for the Pittsburgh Pirates against the Yankees in the 1960's World Series. Haddix got the victory in game seven on the back of Bill Mazeroski's 'Shot Heard Round The World.'



But Haddix's greatest moment was also his most heartbreaking. In 1959, against the Hank Aaron-led Milwaukee Braves, Haddix pitched what many have come to consider the greatest game in Major League Baseball history. The Kitten retired 36 consecutive Braves batters, 12 perfect innings, before giving up a hit and a run in 13th. His Pirates teammates, despite collecting 12 hits, were unable to score. He lost, 1-0, after 12 and 2/3 innings of one-hit baseball. Don't feel sorry for Harvey Haddix. Since his death in 1994, his legend has grown, and he has even been memorialized in song.