For Stephen Mullaley and Jason Hill, softball isn’t just a game—it’s a way of life, and their unwavering commitment to excellence has made them legends in the sport. Their names are synonymous with softball excellence in Newfoundland, and their legacy in the sport will endure for generations to come.
The sweetest swing in the game. That’s the conversation I find myself in, over a few beers—more than a few beers, with a giant in the game of fastpitch softball. In the basement of his Burlington, Ontario home surrounded by reminders of how great a career Stephen Mullaley has had. A nicely framed Canadian National team jersey accompanied by his 2015 WBSC gold medal, and 2015 Pan-Am games gold medal is the focal point of this converted man-cave home office. “You want a beer bud?” Mullaley asks. No hesitation on my part, of course, I do. I mean how often do you get access to a legend of his or her own sport? We are about six deep—six beers deep that is, now the conversation gets flowing. Mix in a game of darts, and the third round of the masters on the television in his home bar. “Lolly” as he is referred to by teammates, colleagues, and friends, entices me with a game of darts. I get whooped, but eh, Newfoundlanders, as it turns out, are pretty good at this game. We sit down at the bar, on the high bar stools and we get to talking. One thing about Newfoundlanders, besides being salt of the earth, hospital people, are natural storytellers.
We talk about Freshwater, and Lolly’s journey through softball, and after the two interruptions from my new little buddy, Teddy—Lolly’s four-year-old son, we get to Jason Hill. Let me tell you a bit about Jason Hill. Intense. If you don’t know him, you would think he was an asshole on the field, same with Lolly actually. I know this firsthand; I played against them. Outside those lines, an unbelievable character and person, like most Newfies. “The sweetest most natural swing in the history of the game,” I blurt out to Lolly. “The equivalent to Griffey. So effortless,” says Mullaley. Here we are—two grown men in awe of another man’s swing. This is typical jock banter. Something only the most involved minds in the game of softball would recognize. The sweetest swing in the game.
Stephen Mullaley and Jason Hill represent the rise in dominance of Newfoundland fastpitch softball. This piece is not here to discount what the generations before Mullaley and Hill have done. In fact, this is a piece that traces the lineage and pays respect—and both Mullaley and Hill were adamant that I state that. Without the passing of the torch from previous eras, what Newfoundland has now become in the world of softball would never have happened without the lessons learned from previous generations. What is fair to say is, without the leaps both Mullaley and Hill made, this dominance would not be spoken about, or quite frankly, probably would never have happened. These two are best friends. Roommates and teammates for 20 years. They have flown on red eyes to private jets but have done so because they took chances. They are leaders. They are proud Newfoundlanders. Let’s dive into their journey of winning, together, and enjoy the history of two of the greatest winners in the history of Canadian sports that has gone unnoticed and underreported.
Humble Beginnings
In life, let alone, in sports, having that long-lasting friendship, you know that “I know your every move, every word” kind of relationship is rare. This is why the story of both Jason Hill and Stephen Mullaley is interesting. As a sidebar, for purposes of familiarity, both will be referred to by their nicknames, Hilly and Lolly. Even their nicknames sound similar. The journey of both men is similar yet profoundly different. But it is their unlikely journey to international recognition that is worth noting.
There have been greats before Hilly and Lolly. Legends of the game such as The Green Sleeves, the Davis brothers, Jerome Brocklehurst, Billy Windsor, Dave and Ron Boland, John Hill, and Scott Mercer. Then one, to name a few, who put Newfoundland on the map with all due respect were the following: Daryl Joy, Robbie O’Brien, Sean O’Brien, Sean Whitten, Ward Gosse, and the “Godfather” himself, Colin Abbott. This piece would be remiss if I left out many of these trailblazers. They are indeed, trailblazers. What they represent is an entire province and a passion for a game so small, that it is relatively unknown, unless featured as an NCAA women’s game.
These are the names so profound, and of course, there are many, many more who have had an impact on the development and growth of the game in Newfoundland, but we would go on past the parameters required by this piece.
The game of fastpitch softball has always been popular in Newfoundland, ever since the 1950s, but one thing lacked, and that was exposure, that was until the likes of Abbott, Gosse and the O’Brien brothers made the jump to play throughout North America respectively. What this did was galvanize two young Newfoundland ball players from two different parts of the Rock—one from Placentia Bay, and the other Portugal Cove, into softball royalty.
Stephen Mullaley
Lolly hails from Freshwater, Newfoundland. Ever heard of it? Me neither. Freshwater is a fishing town in Placentia Bay of less than 1,000 people, and that is no exaggeration. “You can literally drive around the entire town in 45 seconds,” says Mullaley. How is it that this small town situated feet from the Atlantic Ocean produced one of the greatest exports in sport, and to become one the most decorated athletes from Newfoundland?
Mullaley’s story is a journey of brotherhood, camaraderie and winning; cultivated by culture and community. Athletes like Mullaley and others in Newfoundland represent their respective communities and are very much a part of their identity and journey—he literally travelled with the name Freshwater around his neck—a dog tag to be precise.
Newfoundlanders have been contributing to the game of fastpitch since the 1970s, but they haven’t been introduced outside the island until Colin Abbott first did it in the early 90s. The talent was there in Newfoundland, oh was it ever—they just never had a large contingent willing to go abroad. Colin Abbott, a legend in his own right, and unanimously the world’s best player for over a 10-year period, was the exception. He first made the move possible for players like Mullaley and Hill to follow suit. Newfoundland has been developing top talent in the game of fastpitch since the mid-1970s, with some of the greats like Jerome Brocklehurst, and the 1980s with John Hill, through the 1990s with greats like Ron Boland, Scott Mercer, and Colin Abbott, but one thing lacked; travel and the desire to travel on weekends and play abroad. That is what it took and what was required to be recognized as the best and compete with the best. That was until Colin Abbott. He pioneered the next generation: Stephen Mullaley, Jason Hill, Blair Ezekiel, Bradley Ezekiel, Sean Cleary, Ryan Boland, Shane Boland, and Colin Walsh. He influenced them with his stature in the international game and showed those back home that success can be had. Exposure is possible.
You see, that was the lingering problem. The one hindrance that was holding players from Newfoundland from garnering international attention—the means and initiative to travel and play outside of the province. Abbott was six-foot-three, and somewhere around 210 pounds. A cerebral and one of the most feared hitters of all time. One of the greatest to step in the batter’s box. His ability to hit any type of pitch, with patience is what made him the world’s top hitter throughout the 1990s and early 2000s. Abbott was a 10-time all-world selection, and back-to-back International Softball Congress Most Valuable Player, and an International Softball Congress and Newfoundland Hall of Famer. Abbott represented Canada in multiple International Softball Federation tournaments and Pan-American Championships. A legend. The Godfather of modern Newfoundland fastpitch players, according to all Newfoundland ball players.
“Abbott was an idol to players, all of the generations of players after him,” says Mullaley. “He was my idol. He was my sole reason to pursue fastpitch and aim for the national team.” Growing up, and with his eyes set on representing Canada, the young Mullaley would hear stories of Colin Abbott in the local papers. Mullaley was made aware of Colin Abbott hosting a group of young ball players in St. John’s. Mullaley, like most starstruck teens, annoyed his father to drive up to St. John’s so that he could meet the local hero. It was then, at that moment, that Mullaley knew what he wanted to dedicate his life to—the game of fastpitch. That was it. All he needed was to shake the hand of the province’s great, Colin Abbott. The Colin Abbott. The bearer of the proverbial torch that represents greatness. Let me reel you, the reader back in. We are tracing the journey. Colin Abbott represents the conduit connecting “The Rock” to the rest of the country, and continent for that matter, and how Mullaley and Hill wanting to follow in those footsteps, so to speak, sort of kicked open the gates, and the “Newfie flood gates” reigned supreme on the Senior men’s softball (the ISC) circuit.
Jason Hill
Hilly hails from Portugal Cove/St. Phillips. A town that is home to the giant of the sport, Colin Abbott. Like Lolly, Abbott was Hilly’s idol. In his words, “our Michael Jordan.” Profound stuff. Hill grew up basically living at the ball field. He grew up watching his father, a retired police officer, an all-around great ball player, and oh yeah, Softball Newfoundland Hall of Famer, John Hill. “I got the itch, I grew up at the ballpark, and I don’t know if I had much of a choice,” says Hill. This is the theme throughout Newfoundland. Generations of ball players from the same family, keep the game local and grow it, it’s a major component of the community and very much the fabric of the culture, regardless of town.
Growing up in Portugal Cove, there were no leagues around at the time. For years, Hilly’s enjoyment came from playing catch with some of his old man’s teammates, and eventually as bat boy of his father’s team, but that itch he mentioned just earlier started to spread. As a result, Hill’s father John and a couple of his friends had a vision. They put out feelers in and around the community to see if there was an appetite for the ball. The vision was to create a minor league softball system with local sponsorship that would allow the league to cater to the youth, develop the grassroots level of ball, and then grow from there. John was able to get a fully functioning league running, and eventually from the league, they were able to select an all-star team that would travel throughout Newfoundland and represent each respective town at provincials.
This was Hilly’s first taste of competition. This birthed not only the hunger but the obsession with winning and being the best. Seems simple right? Absolutely not the case. To those who are not exposed to the game of softball, you would think it’s just some small game, but in Newfoundland, especially in Newfoundland, it is and has always been the hotbed of softball. On par with Ontario. Provinces throughout Canada certainly went through phases where they would breed a talent pool. Certainly, Ontario as mentioned, and British Columbia, however, the recent success of Newfoundland, really from 2012 on a national level, but individually, connecting to club teams at the ISCs, can be attributed to the exposure from both Jason Hill and Stephen Mullaley, and that is the purpose of this piece.
The careers of both Jason Hill and Stephen Mullaley are forever intertwined. Their success has an immediate effect and results on the success of the province, and the generations just after them and future generations. The symbiosis of Lolly on Hilly’s career, and vice versa is not only a Hall of Fame partnership, but a lifelong one.
“When I first met Lolly, I F**cking Hated Him”
Sitting down with Hilly for this piece I asked him somewhere around 10 minutes into it, “Tell me about Stephen Mullaley.” The response was exactly what Hilly is known for—his honest, unfiltered witty humour; “When I first met Lolly, I fucking hated him, and I’m pretty sure he hated me.” It is interesting because Lolly said something similar. Lolly told me that he hated Hilly because “he was in the paper all the time and was a cocky prick.” So, here you have it, the similarities are uncanny. Two rival athletes, from small towns, vying for a spot on the Canada Games team. This was the year 2000.
Coached by John Hill, both Hilly and Lolly would go on to represent Newfoundland in the 2001 Canada Games. This exposure would tickle the palate so to speak for competition. More than just competing locally and the odd tournament abroad. This 2001 Canada Games represented more than just a competition. It allowed both Hilly and Lolly to crave more, and this would come to represent the prelude to two unbelievable careers. Hall of Fame careers. More importantly, it solidified a friendship, a brotherhood, and glued together a camaraderie like no other. There exists to this day, and after this piece is published, no two teammates in this sport throughout Canada that has won as much, together, as Hilly and Lolly. This is their story.
#10 and #33
Hill and Mullaley represent the rise of Newfoundland fastpitch softball. They are two of the most decorated athletes in the province’s history. Newfoundland is producing some of the world’s best fastpitch softball players. Seven national team players hail from “The Rock.” Mullaley, a former Team Canada captain, and Hill went on a run in 2015, winning trophies in all five major men’s tournaments, including a three-home-run, seven RBI game in the WBSC Championship by Mullaley, then two weeks later, their team won the Pan-Am gold in Toronto.
Lolly—one of the greatest players in the history of the game, and arguably one of the top five players to ever represent Canada, Mullaley in the prime of his career stood six-foot-two, and 195 pounds. An imposing first baseman, and one of the most clutch hitters in the game – globally and domestically.
Hilly—again, one of the most clutch players to ever don the red and white, and no matter where his talents took him, he was the definition of a utility player. A leader, fierce competitor, and yes, indeed the sweetest swing in the entire game, having Hilly in your lineup, instantly made you championship material. A reminder for all you readers, Hill, is one of the most clutch hitters in the history of the game. For over 50 years, there was this narrative centred around ball players from Newfoundland that labelled them as underdogs, and that was due to their partying nature and really, their inability to perform for an entire week on the ball field. You see, it was not because of a lack of talent. Absolutely not. Those in and around the softball circuit knew that Newfoundland had a plethora of talent, but the issue was not in the skill, it was in their susceptibility to being the “life of the party” in particular during Canadian nationals, where exposure and showcase would be the focal point, for the Newfs, it was about being their natural storytelling selves with the influence of a few beers rather than winning a tournament. That all changed in 2011. This is when Hilly and Mullaley and some of Newfoundland’s best players decided they would change that narrative and display some of the premier talents in the country and put the rest of Canada on notice. The success that would come, eclipsed the term dynasty, and it was spearheaded by both Hilly and Lolly, undoubtedly.
Perception versus Reality
As a side note, deciphering the slang that is popular amongst Newfoundlanders is a difficult task, however, hearing it roll off the tongue, is magnificent to hear. Sitting down with a Newfoundlander is a rather eventful undertaking. Natural storytellers, who pride themselves on humour, and the odd pint or two, stories and interviews take on a life of their own. Meeting with Mullaley was both a fulfilling and face-numbing experience (from all the laughs). But one thing is for certain, his pride for his province and what his accomplishments mean for Newfoundland is most touching. As Canada’s most easterly province, Newfoundland is in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. It is known far and wide, simply as “The Rock.” It has a population of just over 500,000 people and is home to some of the most picturesque scenery and friendliest people you will find anywhere in the world. If you ask a Newfoundlander, they will proudly tell you that it is one of the most beautiful places on Earth, and believe me, I did. I asked every single one involved in this story, and the bluntest answer I received is this, “there isn’t no other place better for f**k sake.”
For years Newfoundlanders did not travel on weekends. “We would play one major tournament a year and that was Canadian nationals,” says John Hill. It wasn’t until 2003 when Stephen Mullaley and Jason Hill went abroad to Ashland, Ohio and Frankenmuth, Michigan respectively that the floodgates really opened. The success of these two started to draw attention at the very least throughout North America but started to gradually grab the attention of national team coaches. Slowly, every summer, managers and team owners would be contacting people in Newfoundland like John Hill, a Newfoundland softball hall of fame and ask him, “Johnny you have a Newf for me?” The words of other Newfoundlanders playing abroad started to become currency. “Trust what a Newfie says. If I tell ‘ya a player is good, then he’s good,” says Colin Abbott.
But what changed? What really caused this transformation of the fastpitch powerhouse from Ontario to Newfoundland? Pride. Seems simple. From 2003 to 2010, Newfoundlanders who went abroad to play would stay in their cities where they played club ball on the ISC circuit. For instance, Mullaley in 2009 was tied to a team based in Ontario, therefore, as part of his commitment to that team from Ontario, he represented them at nationals. Defeating a team from Newfoundland in the semi-finals did not sit well with Mullaley, so he decided he would no longer play for another team other than his home province Newfoundland.
Newfoundland has a plethora of talent. It’s the equivalent of striking oil—they are resource rich in talent. At this point in 2010, there were at least a couple of Newfs on many of the top teams competing in the ISC. Even being paid. Yes, owners and sponsors pay top talent, mostly pitchers and big hitters, but the competition goes beyond the field. Often management are competing to sign players every season.
In the fall of 2011, that marked the end of disappointing results at Canadian nationals. Canadian nationals showcase the best players in the country. In 2011, Hill and Mullaley’steam representing Newfoundland lost to the Kitchener Riversharks in Owen Sound, Ontario. Like those before them, disappointing results became almost normal. It was expected of Newfoundland to choke. No matter what. Newfoundlanders were still playing for other provinces, and when a team from Newfoundland did make it to championship Sunday, they were too burnt out from all the partying to have any legit shot at winning a national title.
“It was all too common that Newfoundlanders would wait all year to play in the tournament and piss out,” says Ward Gosse, a Softball Newfoundland Hall of Famer.
“In the first four days of a tournament, you weren’t beating the Newfs. Everyone knew this. Sunday, well that was a different story. We were too busy entertaining—telling stories and bringing out the guitar, drinking beer. By Sunday it was a write-off,” says Robbie O’Brien, one of Newfoundland’s greatest exports.
Something had to change. Wasted talent. World-class players not playing up to their potential. Something had to change.
The perception from us ignorant folk in Ontario, and other parts of Canada were that the Newfs were the centre of attention. As mentioned, the entertainment, but that was the perception, NOT the reality. We are talking about some of the greatest ball players of all-time. The Mercer’s, the Boland’s, The Davis brothers, John Hill, Billy Windsor, Jerome Brocklehurst, Ward Gosse, O’Brien brothers, and so on. And yes, many of them found success with out-of-province team but as a collective, the perception of the Newfs being the only contingent drinking and being “too drunk” to battle on championship Sunday was complete bullshit. I found this out the hard way. A simple inference or misrepresentation allowed me to get a lesson on Newfoundland’s historiography and rightfully so.
There exists this subculture of drinking in fastpitch softball. Relationships are forged in and around the beer tent. Teams congregate after hard-fought battles, and stories are shared. This is what the community of softball is. The competition is fierce within those lines, but outside, it’s a small community that understands one another. Banter, shit-talking, and political incorrectness exist for all players—from many different countries, provinces, and communities. Newfoundlanders are just the best among us all.
Let me set the record straight, Newfoundland failed because of a lack of talent or focus or drinking. Absolutely not. The emphasis on the subculture should not convolute this story. The reality of the story is this.
Newfoundlanders who weren’t exposed to travel play (abroad) were not in ideal game shape to go the whole duration of a national tournament. They were not used to playing a bunch of games on any given weekend, for instance, during a week-long National championship at the end of the summer. The heat often endured during these tournaments on the mainland, and according to John Hill, “not playing against top tier teams, nor facing top pitchers in Canada on a regular basis certainly had an effect on the outcome.”
When speaking with the brilliant and proud John Hill, who was critical to this piece and its history tracing and development, “blending a vacation into a National Championship which often includes consuming a beer or two more than we should have” may have convoluted this notion that Newfoundland was unsuccessful primarily due to drinking. That is a false reality. It was more accredited to being somewhat intimidated—remember this please, INTIMIDATED, for later in this piece, by the big boys and the big teams whom the Newfs knew played over 100 games per year against top competition as opposed to the 20 or so games on the local scene.
The perception is that Newfoundlanders were partiers is one that they did create themselves “because of our culture and we like to sing and string a guitar in the beer gardens at various National Championships and entertain players and fans alike” says John Hill. Whereas opposing teams and players would reserve such things in hotel rooms.
Exodus of B’ys from The Rock
Let’s fast forward now to Hilly and Lolly, and 2003. When they went away and soon after the exodus of top ball players from the Rock were going away on weekends to various parts of Canada and the USA, thus eliminating most issues facing players from Newfoundland. What this did was eliminate most issues facing the boys from Newfoundland. Players are now exposed to the rigours of travel—the heat, the quantity and quality of competition, namely. Once this was secured and familiarized, and popularized throughout the whole island, it fell on the brass within Newfoundland to make the necessary changes and change the way they do business so to speak in the Canadian Nationals. The main challenge, getting all the top talent from Newfoundland and Labrador to buy in. According to John Hill, there was a bit of opposition to this. Trying to convince the executives of the Senior Men’s League that this was the best approach was still a rather tough position for the minds like John Hill and others.
“The travelling players like Mullaley and Hill decided that we needed to win this thing, and this included Sean Cleary, Bradley Ezekiel, Blair Ezekiel, and Ryan Boland to name a few, but was only able to happen with the support of Junior Bruce. Colin Abbott and John Hill were able to send out the best team, and the rest, well, is history.
This piece would be remiss to acknowledge that Mark Dwyer’s team that won the provincial championships and gave their club the right to represent Newfoundland at the Nationals in 2012, called John Hill and was a supporter of what they were trying to accomplish and essentially green-lit the idea of 3 Cheers, that would go on to win three straight national titles. Dwyer, put a second team in the nationals comprised of the remaining club team players, that would serve as Newfoundland two.
The old ball field there b’y
“Canada is the country we live in, but we’re known as Newfoundlanders first.” These words stuck with me throughout my entire reporting. “You’re proud to be a Newfoundlander, you’re proud to say that” says Colin Abbott. I wonder, is this how Hilly and Lolly feel? Lolly is a 25-time champion, and Hilly, a 24-time champion, and most of these titles were accumulated together, in their storied 20-year careers. One of those is a world championship. A legitimate world title, where in 2015 Mullaley put on one of the greatest performances in the history of Canadian sports.
Lolly and I interrupt our conversation by face-timing Jason. It’s what makes their relationship so unique. The banter between the two is comical. These two men spent every day on the road travelling, and bunking, and still are the best of friends. Lolly cracks open another two-beer and now the stories of how this career began started to take on a life of their own—the Newfoundland way.
For Lolly, as a 10-year-old on the left field grass of the old, beaten-down softball field in his hometown, Mullaley would often find himself standing on the warning track between the left and right field poles. “My dad invented a new game, as he does regularly to keep things interesting,” says Mullaley. As a kid, Mullaley and his group of buddies were at the field three to four times a day – their home away from home. “We were not out there because my dad was one of those fathers who pushes their kid into a sport, it is quite the opposite; I love being there and plead with him constantly to come to the field and hit balls to me.”
For Hilly, the game was rooted back to Portugal Cove, the home of Colin Abbott. Remember him? The Legend. That Colin Abbott. But like Lolly, his earliest recollection is the time spent on the ball field with his dad, Johnny, as he refers to him. Taking his ball glove and bat to the ball diamond, playing catch with the likes of Johnny himself, or Colin, for Jason, this is what it was about. This localized community-inspired game. Wearing your pride on your sleeve sort of sentiment. I don’t want to create this romanticized version of Jason Hill because he is a competitor. He is an asshole on the field and an absolute “killer” for lack of a better term. But this is pre-teen Jason Hill. A more innocent version of him, and his start in the game.
Hilly became obsessed with being the best. Following the Inception of the minor ball league his father had helped start, Hill’s name was everywhere in The Telegram. He was widely regarded as one of the best ball players in the province. A dual threat—pitcher and hitter. He was well-documented as a player to watch out for. All of this though is rooted back to Portugal Cove. Those local ball fields. That passion was cultivated out of a love for watching his old man play ball and the admiration they received from the community. Hill was determined. Both Lolly and Hilly did have two completely different journeys to the national team and abroad, however, once they solidified themselves as two of the best in their own province, their talents became mainstays on the national team, and the international game would soon take notice.
On everyone’s radar
The concern for athletes who hail from The Rock is two-fold. Logistics and lack of exposure. As was the case for Mullaley in particular, as most of the training camps and major invitationals were hosted in St. John’s. There exists a logistical challenge for Mullaley, that challenge, well for one, Freshwater is an hour and a half drive from the provincial capital of St. John’s, therefore, it is difficult for players in Freshwater to play in city league games, which translates into a low rate of participation in provincial and domestic games. Despite this, Mullaley would get on the radar of provincial selection committees out of want, desire and hope—mostly hope. Hope that he can get to St. John’s. Hope that he can get an opportunity to show John Hill and the Canada Games coaching staff that he is deserving of a spot to represent Newfoundland in the Canada Games.
In the summer of 2000, as advertised in The Telegram, Newfoundland’s paper of record, try-outs for the Newfoundland squad would be held over two days. This was his opportunity. Not so fast. Mullaley on day one of the try-outs went to the wrong location. He did make it to a try-out, just not the right rendition ball. Mullaley ended up going to a baseball try-out. An hour and a half drive to St. John’s all for nothing. “I was so pissed. I thought well fuck b’y that’s it for me,” says Mullaley as he recounts this experience. After some self-reflection and anger, at himself, no one else, he decided to grab an old phone book—the white pages. White pages were a thing. In print. Not digital for all the millennials out there. After scanning the white pages for the name “John Hill,” Mullaley was ready to call all 25 until number seven was the one. The call that would be a last-ditch effort to rescue his dream, he nervously dials.
After a few rings a woman picks up.
“Hello!” says the woman.
“Hi, can I speak to John Hill please?”
“May I ask who’s calling?”
“Yes ma’am, my name is Stephen Mullaley. I was supposed to attend tryouts today and I missed them.”
“Ok, son, let me get him.”
“Sure thing. Thank you, ma’am.”
“Yup. John speaking.”
“Hi Mr. Hill, my name is Stephen Mullaley, I was supposed to attend the try-out today for the Canada Games team, but we went to the wrong ballpark. We drove over an hour from Freshwater is there any way I get another chance?”
“That’s unfortunate kiddo. I am sorry to hear that. We finished our assessments, but let me tell you this, come out and show us what you got, and we will look. You can be assessed with the kids on the cusp.”
“Thank you, Mr. Hill. Thank you!
Mullaley would make the best of his second chance, and with this, he would go on to make the Canada Games team in 2000. This was the beginning of Stephen Mullaley’s legacy.
Jason’s journey would be a little different. As mentioned, he was already being labelled as one of the best players at his age, Jason already solidified his spot on the Canada Games team. Even though his father was the head coach, Jason made it on his own accord. He was a shoo-in. Lolly recalls seeing Hilly for the first time as a “cocky prick.” “He can’t be that good.” He even goes as far as referring to Hilly as “a daddy’s boy.” But that was not it. Jason was the best. An up-and-comer that is no longer that. He is here to stay.
During the Canada Games tryouts, Jason would go on to hit a bunch of home runs, and strike out several potential hopefuls, except for one—Lolly. To this day, the back and forth-between the two is comical. It’s probably why they ventured off into the podcast game together. But nonetheless, this put both men on the radar. The radar of North American clubs on the ISC circuit.
Two Newfies in small town U.S.A.
In 2003, Hilly (then 18 years old), and Mullaley (19 years old), decided to make the jump to the senior circuit; something very few Newfoundlanders other than Colin Abbott had done. The senior circuit is a North American (International Softball Congress) sanctioned travel league, that plays host to the world’s best players hailing from Argentina, Australia, and New Zealand to name a few. Club teams originate from small towns to some big cities. Take Decatur, Illinois for one, or Pueblo, Colorado to Toronto and Kitchener. This is high stakes ball, with some big spending sponsors and owners.
In the case of both Hill and Mullaley, they represent, along with Abbott, a genesis for fastpitch players that hail from Newfoundland committing abroad. What both Hill and Mullaley were about to do was something they couldn’t have predicted. Hill and Mullaley began travelling to the U.S. and would be introduced to a quality of competition they never quite experienced before. This move would be the prelude to their historic careers. It would set the foundation for their respective legacies.
For Mullaley, Ashland, Ohio was the place, and for Hill, Frankenmuth, Michigan. For all the allure both men thought playing the best ball was, Ashland and Frankenmuth were not that. There was nothing alluring about it. But both did have one redeeming quality—they signed a then 19-year-old from Freshwater, Newfoundland, and an 18-year-old Hill from Portugal Cove itching to show the small-town U.S.A what these small-town islanders were all about. Hill and Mullaley, no matter where they decided to sign, carry their community with pride. “Community is at the core of it. I wouldn’t have done anything that I’ve done, whether sports or professionally, everything is routed back to Freshwater. Just the way the community is. It promotes being outside in the fresh air. It’s a tight-knit community, and I am glad it just happened to be the hotbed of fastpitch,” says Mullaley. Hill further exasperates that same sentiment as Mullaley. Ashland and Frankenmuth represented their first taste at the real competition, but to both men, it meant much more. It represents where they got their start in the game, more importantly, it signified the beginning of something bigger than just Jason Hill and Stephen Mullaley—the insurgence of Newfoundland talent.
“We owe them a proper piss pounding”
In 2008, Premier Danny Williams went on local television and declared that “Newfoundland is no longer a have-not province,” in response to the lack of Federal funding for the province. That statement for most Newfoundlanders, at least for the athletes in this piece, became a war cry. Not in the literal sense of course, but in terms of competition. Since joining the confederation, it is fair to suggest that Newfoundland hasn’t been the most popular province and often at times has been neglected and under-represented. This sentiment was felt in sport, for decades. This has never rung truer than in the context of softball. “We are no longer a have-not province. Those words by Danny transcended the mindset of all Newfoundland ball players, all!” says John Hill. That loss in 2011 to Kitchener hurt the boys from Newfoundland, especially the leaders like Jason and Stephen.
Recently named captain of Team Canada, Mullaley started to take that role more seriously. Reaching all his goals, he was now the man. As each Newfoundlander began training for their upcoming seasons with each of their respective travel clubs, one important thing happened. Each of the top talents from Newfoundland made a pact. In 2012, with the backing of sponsorships, something lacking years prior, everyone bought in. Spearheaded by John Hill, Junior Bruce and the great Colin Abbott, the beginning of a dynasty would be created. This team would be managed by softball great, Colin Abbott, and John Hill, and with the backing of Mr. Bruce, this all that these boys needed—to represent Newfoundland every year at nationals and dominate. In the words of one Stephen Mullaley, “we owe them a proper piss pounding b’y!”
Intimidator not Intimidated
That 2011 loss pioneered a movement that Newfoundland so desperately needed, and never experienced. Newfoundland’s top talent formed a super team. This all-in collective effort spearheaded by Hill and Mullaley, as well as notable other players and backed by community support through sponsorships would afford team operations to assemble with no expense spared. In 2012, with the support of Junior Bruce, owner of 3 Cheers Pub, and the vision of John Hill and Colin Abbott, the boys from Newfoundland would go on to win three straight Canadian titles. Both Hill and Mullaley are integral parts of these teams. The first in over 50-years. This jump-started the dynasty. Starting in 2015, a new form of backing and commitment presents the boys with even more support.
Enter Danny Williams.
Former Premier Danny Williams after leaving office in 2010 built his own community in Newfoundland—Galway, and yes, literally a community that consists of commerce, sport, and housing, all in homage to his mother’s hometown of Galway, Dublin.
Under Mr. Williams’ financing, the dynasty that is Newfoundland softball further curated talent from the province and built a new fastpitch softball scene in his native province. True to his “Newfoundland is no longer a have-not province,” declaration, he injected funds into many programs throughout Newfoundland. The first go around was 2015.
“I took office in 2003 with one thing on my mind—on Jesus, and that was for all Newfoundlanders to be proud people. Wear that pride on your sleeve,” says Danny Williams. When he speaks of his province, there is this strong sense of pride, which has been mentioned many times throughout this piece. In developing support for softball, it came on the heels of other sports he was involved in, such as hockey, with the St. John’s Ice Caps, and Brad Gushue, one of the greatest curlers of all time. Danny Williams is a martyr in Newfoundland, and that is not hyperbole. He is respected and loved. He has done more for the community throughout Newfoundland than most. “My goal in Politics, is simple. I wanted Newfoundland to be a ‘have province’. No longer the ‘poor sister’ and for the people of this province to be ‘masters of their own destiny’,” says Williams.
“Masters of their own destiny.” This stuck with me. Building an entire community is a massive undertaking—promoting this community through sport, is genius. For Williams, in his own words, “I’m just the money guy, whatever the boys need, I have their backs 100%.” This includes travel, training access, and operation. This is his legacy on the sport. Something that lacked for over 50 years.
Williams’ involvement was one part of it. What was needed for this to work was Jason and Stephen, and the core players (such as Bradley and Blair Ezekiel, Sean Cleary, Ryan Boland, Shane Boland) from the province to buy into this whole “masters of their own destiny” moniker Williams lived by. All these core players were bold enough to attempt to galvanize and bring together all of Newfoundland’s top players into one program, and it paid off. In 2015, fresh off their three-peat as 3 Cheers Pub, the newly named Galway Hitmen, led by Hill and Mullaley won Newfoundland’s fourth straight gold at a Canadian Nationals. From 2012 to 2022, this Galway Hitmen team with the support of community giants like Danny Williams, and smaller ones, yet integral, like Junior Bruce went on to win nine of the last ten Canadian Nationals, a feat that has never been done before. “When Danny got involved it’s what all teams from Newfoundland lacked in the past. Discipline. Pride to put that jersey on. We rid ourselves of that partying mentality and reputation and now save it until after we lift the championship,” says John Hill. This transcended the game and put Newfoundland at the forefront. “We are no longer intimidated at these tournaments. We are the intimidators.”
Increased sponsorship and community involvement helped combat this “forgotten province” theory, and quite honestly developed a new focus and mentality— “pride for Newfoundland over ego,” says Shane Boland, starting Shortstop for the Galway Hitmen and Team Canada.
“Where I am from is Everything”
This story is two-fold: the journey of two competitors who created a legacy simultaneously as teammates and best friends, and second, the role community and culture play on these athletes that hail from the Rock. Both Hill and Mullaley would go on to be two of the most decorated athletes in the history of Newfoundland. But even more telling is how accomplished they are as athletes who have represented Canada since 2006 and 2007 respectively. Their lists of accomplishments are deserving of a book. The stories, the journey and the collection of moments noted just for the purposes of this piece is astounding. For instance, by the time Mullaley called it a career in the fall of 2022 he will go down as the most decorated softball player of all time. He has won 25 championships. Included in this tally is six International Softball Congress championships, six American Softball Association championships, 10 Canadian national titles, and in 2015, he and a contingent of players from Newfoundland did something that will never be duplicated again—claiming gold in a few months span that includes the WBSC world
championship, and Pan-Am games in Toronto.
Hill’s resume stacks up against Mullaley as equals. One of the most clutch performers in the history of the sport, capped by his 2021 ISC final performance, is indicative of why he is respected amongst the lore of softball elites. Six-time ISC champion, Eight Canadian titles, six ASA, one ISF, one Pan-Am gold, and one Pan-Am championship gold.
Both Hilly and Mullaley have been part of some spectacular runs—dynasty-type teams. Four-time world champions as teammates with the Hill United Chiefs, and of course eight Canadians with the Galway Hitmen/3 Cheers Pub representing Newfoundland.
An even more telling statistics, and fun fact, Mullaley and Hill have been a part of every gold medal Team Canada has won over the past 24 years.
Hill and Mullaley represent a province that has quite often been “forgotten” and under-represented. On that same note, Hill and Mullaley played a sport for over 25-years that itself is under-reported, and never spoken about and rarely highlighted in the context of Canadian sporting feats.
Over a decade and a half, Hill and Mullaley put the fear in opposing pitchers as teammates. They both played in some of the most historic games of all time, but none more fitting than 2015, that featured a national team of five boys from Newfoundland proudly representing the maple leaf and The Rock. In this year, 2015, it would allow the world to bear witness to a trio of Newfoundlanders who played club together, on the national team and nationals accumulate over 70 titles between this trio. Today, one of them is highly regarded as the world’s best player, his name is Bradley Ezekiel. Bradley himself has accumulated 22 medals, combining between the trio a staggering 71 championship tallies.
The defining moment for global recognition of Newfoundland being the hotbed of fastpitch softball can be traced to 2015. Hill and Mullaley, as well as Ezekiel winning a WBSC, Pan-Am, ISC, ASA, and Canadian national title—all five major trophies have never been done. This exposed the province as a curator of talent.
Ode to Newfoundland—Mr. John Hill
This piece has been full of characters that have been central to not only the theme of article but also the growth and development of the game of fastpitch softball in Newfoundland. What this piece has already established was the players, literally and figurately, but what cannot be lost in all this, is the role of one key figure, John Hill. The man is a wealth of knowledge. I respectfully refer to him as the Almanac of Newfoundland fastpitch. Without Mr. Hill’s contribution to this piece or any piece, thereafter, would be a relatively dismissed piece. John Hill not only served as a contributing member to the new vision of Newfoundland fastpitch softball but was a catalyst in its resurgence. He combatted popular consensus that Softball Newfoundland was “just fine” the way it was. It was John Hill, along with others, that formed a new alliance of Newfoundland ball players.
John Hill is a visionary and a pioneer in many respects. Whether it’s taking initiative and creating a league for his son Jason to play in back in Portugal Cove or allowing a young Stephen Mullaley to earn his way onto the Canada Games team, Hill is a revolutionary and a leader.
A great ball player in his day, ball means a lot to him. Since 2015, when named to Team Canada’s staff as an assistant coach under manager John Stuart, Hill was able to see his vision come to fruition. The five members of that 2015 Team Canada team that won double gold was a full circle moment. Imagine being on the field when your son is a major contributor to the national team in the biggest game in the country’s history, and on the field when his “other son” Stephen Mullaley puts on a performance of a lifetime. Oh, yeah, how about this, having one of the best throwers in Sean Cleary as the horse of the team, and arguably the greatest of all-time, Bradley Ezekiel there to embrace after many of his clutch performances. Let’s not forget, Ryan Boland. These are five b’ys from the Rock.
John Hill is a legend. Simple as that. In a series of things to come, John Hill is the subject of a serialized version of this piece. On behalf of this story, and the province, Johnny, thank you!
A proper send off for two trailblazers
On September 3, 2022, Mullaley played in his final game. Mullaley captained the Galway Hitmen one final time, defeating the Toronto Batmen at the Nationals to win his twenty-fifth championship ring. This is every athlete’s dream. To not only retire on top. But to retire, at home, in front of your community, and the people who have supported you your entire career. He was celebrated by teammates, former and current, competitors and family. The province honoured Mullaley with a ceremony most athletes dream of – a jersey retirement. No one at Nationals will ever wear the feared number 33 ever again. Mullaley was presented with a framed jersey from his title run with the St. John’s based Galway Hitmen. His hometown ballpark pays tribute to Lolly with a Stephen Mullaley tribute sign. Fitting. Mullaley is a proud Newfoundlander who credits his success to the people of this 45-second drive around town community. “Stephen is the most accomplished athlete from Newfoundland. No ifs, and’s or buts about it,” says Ryan Boland, catcher for the Galway Hitmen and Team Canada.
In November 2022, Canada competed at the WBSC world championships, a Mullaley-less national team for just the second time since 2006, however, led by Jason Hill, in what would be his final go-around with the national team. That team featured six players from Newfoundland. Of all things, a bullshit wrist injury would play its part in Hill’s involvement in Auckland, New Zealand. Canada would go on to lose to Australia in the final. The warrior that Jason Hill is none more evident than pinch-hitting and attempting to do all he could for the red and white, with a banged-up wrist. He is Jason Hill. A competitor, a winner, and a leader.
There are 15 rostered players from coast to coast from an athlete pool of 40. Essentially, half the team hails from the once-forgotten province, tell me that is not dominance. Tell me Hill and Mullaley did not open the door for this movement. And finally, show me where the community did not uplift these players. In the words Mullaley, “everyone pulling’ on the rope in the same direction”—the motto that drives the province now.
From coast-to-coast, continent to continent, Mullaley and Hill is regarded as not only cerebral ball players but in the laurels of softball history, their names are forever etched in stone. Hall of Famers. Winners. Competitors. Best Friends. Find a journey that parallels this one. Gather all the record books in each respective sport played in this beautiful country and find me two teammates who accumulated as much as these two have, together. Include the rings, the highs, the lows, the travel points, the hits, the memories, and most of all, the influence. Newfoundland is the hotbed of fastpitch softball. This debate can be argued, but let’s look deeper. I will take Stephen Mullaley, Jason Hill, and Bradley Ezekiel, and throw that resume against any single athlete in this great sport from any country, and you let me know who had the most profound impact of any era. I will wait. Until then, I am going to sit back, raise a glass to the b’ys and thank them for all their contributions to the game, and for allowing me to be a small part of their history.
In the words of the legendary Great Big Sea, “I’ve sailed the world over for decades or more. And oft’ times I wonder what I do it for. I don’t know the answer. It’s pleasure and pain, but with life to live over I’d do it again.” This is indicative of the careers of #10 and #33, and the lineage of Newfoundland softball and their softball dynasty.