PLAY BALL

(This afternoon we pay a visit to the popular Gasbag Tavern in nicely landscaped downtown Manana and listen in on a stimulating conversation in progress)

First patron:  Why, hell, I played pro ball back before the war.  I oughta know what I’m talking about!

Second patron:  You oughta know a lot of things.

Third patron:  Hey, he’s right.  The players today are a bunch of hot-headed prima donnas.  Between player salaries, greedy agents and brahman owners the game is on the rocks.

Second:  Well, I’m not arguing that.  I’ve studied baseball since it’s beginnings during the War Between the States. I’ve read about the greats like Honus Wagner and Jimmy Foxx.  You’re not talking to some novice here.

First:  Well, you said them short pants was alright with…

Third:  …I said them short pants and white shoes were not the issue.  The meat of what’s wrong with baseball has nothing to do with fashion.  It’s all in the psyche.

Second:  Like designating hitters and charging for autographs…

Third:  Right.  And arbitration and astro turf and batting gloves.

First:  It is rather upsetting ain’t it.  In my day the pitcher damn well better bat and he better put the ball in play or he won’t be around for the next game.

(At this point my recorder shuts off rather loudly and all three look over in my direction)

First:  What are you lookin’ at, kid?

Horseshoe:  Nothin’.  I’m just sipping my beer.

Second:  Well, see to it that you do.  What’s that gizmo in your pocket?

Horseshoe:  It’s just my pager. I’m a brain surgeon and I am often on call…

Third:  …you can start by operating on a friend of mine right now!

First:  It ain’t me that needs tending to.  You don’t know baseball.  Besides, you never played the game like I did.

Second:  Where did you play anyway?

First:  I pitched for the Moline Cardinals in 1934 and then came up with the Browns at the end of the 1935 season.  That’s when my arm went sour.  I think I got a virus from an open window on the train or maybe it was the twelve games in a row that I pitched against both the Athletics and the Yankees when our other pitcher was in jail.  I don’t recall…

Third:  A pitcher, heh?  You ever throw at a batter?

First:  What do you think?  Back in those days the brushback was as much a part of the game as chewing tobacco.

Second:  And now I hear the league wants to ban chew.  They say it’s bad for the kids to see that kind of thing.

Third:  They’re ruining the game.

First:  We didn’t usually see some batter charge the mound after a bean ball like you have today.  Oh, it happened, but not often.  I think the television announcers are to blame for a lot of the hype.  Baseball is supposed to be a clean, relaxed tradition and a lot of the so-called experts don’t really understand the complexities or appreciate the subtleties of the game.

Third:  Yeah.  Isn’t it supposed to be bad luck to even mention the status of a no-hitter while it’s still in progress?  Hell, today’s sportscasters blab it all over the air waves once it goes five innings.  The game’s just not worth watching anymore with all the pay-per-view and cable crap. Remember Jane Fonda’s boyfriend, Ted Turner what-his-name, trying to shove “America’s team” down our throats.  I want to throw up.  They may have had a good season but how many of them came up through the Atlanta organization?  They just don’t have what it takes.

Second:  Yeah, like Mantle and Mays…and Clements and the Babe…

Third:  And Lou Gehrig.  Hell, none of today’s players will ever approach his iron man record for most games played in a row.  Look what Pete Rose did for the game and they kicked him out while they let that Dodger pitcher come back after he flunked his drug test time and again.  I hear they even gave him a free tutor and he still flunked!  I don’t know why we even follow the sport anymore.

First:  It’s just a reflection of society. Baseball is what we once were and football is what we have become.

Third:  What? Is that an original?

First: Original enough for these digs.

Second:  A reflection of sobriety?  Let’s have another…

First:  Some second-string shortstop who can’t hit .200 gets paid 50 times more than a teacher.  A washed up pitcher with a history of injuries signs for two million while half the population labors for minimum wage!  Hell, I’ll bet even the batboy has a pretty impressive stock portfolio.

Third:  Yeah…

Second:  It’s really too bad you know if…

First:  …Wait a minute!  What time is it?  Damn, the ball game is on.  It’s the World Series!  It’s on at 6 pm!  We almost missed the first pitch!  Bartender!  Get that game on will you!  What kind of bar is this anyway!

Second:  Yeah…this is America, boy!

Second:  Sure thing.  Who you betting on?

First:  Quiet!  I can’t hear the stadium announcer.  He’s giving the line-up.

Second:  Give us another round…on me…

(He looks back over in my direction)

Second:  You want a beer sonny?

Horseshoe:  No thanks, I’ve got to go.  (I drink my beer and start for the door).

First:  Guess he don’t like baseball, huh?

Second:  Some kinda communist…

Third:  That generation never did have it all tucked in.

– Rocky Flats