South Lenoir Baseball Tribute by Christopher Johnson

Christopher Johnson, a proud South Lenoir alum and lifelong supporter, submitted this piece ahead of the Blue Devils’ first-ever appearance in the NCHSAA 2A Baseball State Championship. He writes from the heart, as a friend of head coach Paul Novicki and as a father raising the next generation of Blue Devils.

When you're a young boy, early on it's almost inevitable that a well-meaning family member will hand you a bat and a ball.

Sometimes, that bat becomes a club for chasing siblings, and the ball turns into a projectile. Other times, they get tossed aside, buried under a pile of toys your momma has to clean up when she finally hits her limit.

But in some cases, you pick them up again—and this time, you add a glove. And from that point on, something changes. Not just for you, but for your family. And maybe, for your whole community.

That’s how it starts for a lot of baseball and softball families. And that’s how it started for many in our South Lenoir community, especially this weekend, as the Blue Devils prepare to travel to Burlington for the school’s first-ever trip to the 2A Baseball State Championship Series.

On the day I was born in April of 1987, Mr. Greg and Mrs. Sue Novicki’s son, Paul, turned one month old. A few years later, Mr. Greg was my coach. I ended up on his tee-ball team—Watson’s Drug was our sponsor. Later, we played under Turner-Elmore Insurance in kid pitch.

The Novickis’ house was the first place I ever spent the night away from my own home. I think we were in second grade. Paul and I stayed up past our bedtimes, throwing alley-oops to each other on the hoop in their living room.

He was always the best athlete on the field. He had some haters, sure—but everyone knew it. He was a star through rec league, all-stars, middle school and beyond.

I remember when he suffered a serious eye injury after eighth grade. I visited him at Duke Hospital during his cornea transplant and wondered if he’d ever play sports again. I believe he had to sit out freshman year. But by the next summer, we were playing again. And it didn’t take long before Paul was back to his old self—dominating.

He torched Eastern Plains Conference opponents in high school. And while we joked he was all-conference as a punter (because we weren’t exactly a football powerhouse), Paul’s real legend came from moments like “The Shot” against Greene Central—an off-balance, one-handed buzzer-beater in overtime that sent Coach Smith into a towel-waving frenzy. Top five moment in South Lenoir history, no question.

Then there was the Ray Avery Easter Tournament at Ayden-Grifton. Paul pitched a complete-game shutout and hit the only home run of the game—a 1-0 win over North Pitt. We scored four total runs across three games and won the entire tournament, including a 1-0 victory against Pamlico and a 2-1 win over eventual 1A state champion Farmville Central.

We split with North Lenoir our senior year and were co-champs of the EPC. They won the coin toss for seeding and went on to win the state title. We lost in the first round to Northwood at home. That was the end of my baseball career.

But not Paul’s. He went on to pitch at Lenoir Community College and later at Mount Olive, where he threw a no-hitter on my birthday. He called me afterward and told me he did it for me. He won a national championship at Mount Olive, too.

After stops at a few area schools, Paul made it back home—to South Lenoir. To coach. To lead.

I share all of this because I know Coach Novicki personally. When we see each other, it’s a hug, not a handshake. When we part ways, it’s often with an “I love you, brother.”

Players—these relationships you have now will last far beyond this weekend. This community already remembers you as the team that took us further than we’ve ever been. Cherish these bonds. They’re forever.

Now to the part every baseball parent will understand…

During Paul’s post-high school years, I also went through college. Eight years of higher education didn’t leave much time for baseball. But then I had a son—and like clockwork, a bat, a ball, and a glove found their way into his hands. He wanted to watch Braves games like I did with my dad. I was elated.

He played tee-ball, machine pitch, travel ball. He’s played in all-stars. And yet, all spring long, he’s asked me one thing:

“Daddy, when does South Lenoir play this week?”

“Do I have practice that night?”

“Is Tadpole pitching tonight?”

“Do you think Coach Novicki’s going with Marshburn?”

“Is Clements gonna throw? He’s got a cannon!”

“Wow, that was a big hit by Potter!”

“Daddy, why do we bunt so much?”

“Did you know Mrs. Howard at my school is Gage’s mom?”

We went to the opener at Richlands, but most of the season we followed through GameChanger. When South Lenoir won Game 2 at Midway, our plans for Saturday were set.

We were there in Game 3. We cheered alongside everyone from Moss Hill, Pink Hill, and Southwood. And we didn’t just cheer. We roared. Because those boys are ours. That team is ours.

And this moment? It’s electric. It will be forever. Because south of the river—it’s always been Blue Devil Country.

To the parents—I see you. I am you. I know the effort, the stress, the grind. I’ve got two ballplayers and a dancer. And I want to say thank you. You’ve raised these boys right. If they don’t know it yet, they’ll know it someday.

To the players—your work when no one was watching is why you’re here. Keep grinding. You’re setting the standard for the next generation. Seniors, you’ve laid the foundation. Returners, it’s on you now to build it higher.

And to Coach Novicki—you know who wrote this. You’ve always been a winner. Heart of a champion. Against all odds. Go finish it.

I love you, brother.

— Christopher Johnson