"I Got To Go See About A Team"; A CCW Legend Returns Home

Reported by Jorf Porsson
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Some decisions in sports transcend the game. They ripple through history, altering the trajectory of a franchise, a league, and the very mythology of competition itself. Keegan Caughey’s decision to return to the Short Shorts is one of those moments—a seismic shift in Circle City Wiffle that evokes the grandeur of a LeBron-esque homecoming.

For a player of Caughey’s stature—sixth all-time in home runs, fifth in both RBI and hits, a war-hardened veteran of 197 battles—the story should have been a coronation. But last season, his tenure with the Hounds ended not with fireworks but with a cold and merciless benching in the playoffs. It was a stark reminder that, even for legends, loyalty is a fragile thing. The Hounds may have wanted him once, but in the defining moment of their season, they turned their backs. The message was clear: he was expendable.

And so, Caughey went searching for something more. Not a championship, not a paycheck—he had already earned those in abundance. He sought something deeper. A sense of belonging. A return to the place where his name wasn’t just inked into a lineup but woven into the very fabric of the franchise. The Dirtyard—a hallowed cathedral of plastic baseball—was always more than a field to him. It was home.

His announcement video, a dramatic homage to Good Will Hunting, was layered with symbolism. The dialogue was thick with subtext, a poetic rendering of a man reckoning with his past, weighing the burden of unfinished business. The crux of it came with four simple words: “I got to go.” It was a note left on a door. A promise to himself. A calling.

Jorf Porsson, CCW’s all-knowing insider, pressed Caughey about when he knew the Short Shorts were always his team. The response was instantaneous—August 14, 2012. A game, a moment, a legend in the making. He recounted a night at the Dirtyard, a colossal battle where Will Smithey—National Player of the Year—obliterated a moonshot that sent the crowd into bedlam. But Caughey? He wasn’t on the field. He wasn’t in the dugout. He was watching from the deck, beer in hand, absorbing a spectacle that would unknowingly set his destiny in motion.

“You played with him?” Porsson asked.

“No,” Caughey admitted. “I was sitting on the deck drinking a beer with my future coach.”

That’s when it hit.

He was never meant to be a spectator. He was meant to be a part of something greater. And when the moment finally arrived, when he was face-to-face with the decision he always knew he had to make, he handed back the Hounds jersey and walked away.

“Sorry man, I got to go see about a team.”

And just like that, Keegan Caughey was home.

The Shorts are not a perfect team. Caughey is not a perfect player. But sometimes, two imperfect things can be perfect for each other. That’s the beauty of this return—not just a reunion, but a restoration of something that should have never been broken in the first place.

When he steps into the batter’s box at the Dirtyard once more, the vibes will be different. Not just admiration for the numbers, not just appreciation for the player, but an understanding of the journey.

He has played in many games, hit many home runs, and carried many teams. But now? Now he gets to be exactly where he’s supposed to be.

​Home.