Heels On The Field: A Baseball Blog

Final Score: Freeing Myself From Expectations In Sports Media, Letting Go Of Some Dreams

Final Score

Another week in the life of women in sports media, watching Maria Taylor's career and body forced into the misogynistic sports spotlight, presented another opportunity to examine what we win and lose as women in the industry.

When Maria Taylor declared herself deserving of respect in a tweet, she unleashed a wave of pride and, of course, criticism.

Pride came mostly from women in the sports industry and fans, but also from men who don’t understand why other men need to make a sports disagreement so deeply personal, while also questioning our qualifications.

The criticism also mostly came from men. The week was revealotory and not in a good way. We received a reminder that, yes sexism and misogny remain powerful in sports. Sports, an industry that only evolves when absolutely forced and still puts up a fight, is as much entertainment as it is a reflection of our society, and what we believe. 

Taylor was subjected to intensely personal criticism twice in a few days. Both times by men, both colleagues-- men with such confidence in their job security, they didn't worry about backlash or possibly being fired. They tweeted with abandon, as if it was their place to question Taylor as a professional and woman. 

On Monday, Chicago sports radio host, Dan McNeil, host of 'The Score,' tweeted about Taylor's attire on the sidelines, with a photo of her in an outfit working a game.  

"NFL sideline reporter or a host for the AVN annual awards presentation?" 

I didn't know that the AVN awards were for "adult entertainment," so at first I didn't know what was going on. But I Googled. First of all, F**K you Dan. Second...no that's it. He was later fired. 

Then came the ballot. Taylor's All-NBA selections received a whirlwind of confusion and frustration, after she ommitted Anthony Davis name. I confess, I know almost nothing about basketball players or current teams, so this isn't something I can analyze. But people were pissed. There's also nothing wrong with that. Taylor later admitted she was mistaken in leaving him out of her final choices. Readers and viewers are allowed to disagree and be extremely mad about what we write, report or decide. But that's it. They don't have permission to tear us down as people, as women, or...do THIS:

"Why does Maria Taylor have a vote? Real question. She is a studio host/sideline reporter in her first year covering the NBA. She works a ton, not just on the league. No reason to have her vote."

G

That tweet by Doug Gottlieb, a Fox Sports Radio host, was immediately met with anger as well. Taylor stepped to the plate herself, responding, "Because I PLAYED basketball...I COVER the league. And I DESERVE everything I've worked hard for."

I would like to create an award for this tweet, especially her choice to put all those words in caps. My favorite was "DESERVE." Too often, men in this industry, men like Gottlieb and McNeil, exude such undeserved confidence in stating their opinions. They talk too loud and too much, they say whatever they want to us, in any setting, with astonishing arrogance, as if they fear nothing. Women in the industry walking around fearing everything we do is under such scrutiny, we can't screw up, or do something that people just disagree with.

We’re enraged by those men because we should be. Men in this business, who are our equals, have no business questioning how we got where we are, and why we’re there. Gottlieb’s nerve is purse entitlement, a confidence that men are taught, whether they’re sports professionals or sports fans. He likely didn’t think twice about questioning a woman who is his professional equal. He’s not her boss, he’s not her 8th grade teacher. Yet men in the sports industry think nothing of asking a woman at the table why she has a seat. How many men in sports or sports fans have women turned the tables on? How many women in sports media have glanced around the press box, or front office, full of men, and wondered how that many men could be so deeply qualified, but a singular woman must always prove she should be there?

The point isn’t that Gottlieb disagreed with Taylor’s ballot. It’s that he actually saw it fit to ask why she had a ballot. He couldn’t leave it at disagreeing with her. To deny the sexism, is to remove such a large part of our experience as women. You might not see it, or know what it looks like, but even what looks like a compliment-- “She knows her stuff!”, “She’s earned respect!” “There are a lot of women who don’t know what they’re talking about, but she does!”-- is a twisted way of telling us we’re lucky to be invited into a boys club.

A few years ago, while covering a Phillies game, a colleague approached me while I was sitting on the bench in the dugout for a man to ask me why I don’t dress differently in order to gain more respect. He rushed over, with a kind of aggressive smirk, his body language full of intention. I smiled warmly, thinking we were going to connect as colleagues, or just have a friendly chat. In other words, I expected him to be a normal person. But no, that wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to offer me some sort of deformed thing he thought was advice, and expected me to be open to receiving whatever he had to say. He went on to tell me that players talked about me in a vulgar manner, as if I didn’t know that, told me that the Phillies front office didn’t respect me, and that just like “someone we know” (he was referring to Erin Andrews, who’d recently been sexually violated by way of a stalker filming her in her hotel room, while she was nude), if I wasn’t “careful,” “You could be next.” The point of all of it, was to assign blame to me (and Erin Andrews) for anything bad that happened to us, and for anyone questioning our qualifications and presence, to the point that if someone stalked and sexually violated me, well, hey, at least he tried to warn me. As my equal, he was not only out of line, he was sexually harassing me. He was making a creepy insinuation that I might be sexually harmed in some way if I didn’t shape up. He was informing me that no one thought I belonged, and that was my fault. That if I made a mistake, I would not get away with it. If I did something perceived as proof that I was not a good reporter, I’d be without defense, because of what I wore, or what people believed about me. He believed he had a right to walk up to me, in our professional setting, and question my professionalism. And he thought it appropriate to brandish me unacceptable, and totally at fault for that assessment. I smiled obligingly, trying to remain focused on the job I needed to get done that day.

Again and again, this shame returns to me. The gross memory of a person in the industry telling me that players joked I was there to service them, that people in the business found me unacceptable. I went home that day with a fire in my heart, but sometimes I was wrong about what that fire represented. Often ,I used it as a defense to cover exhaustion and sadness. Make no mistake, it was also often the opposite-- instead, a light that lifted me and gave me the truth, without distraction of others opinion. I cherish those moments in my career, and I recall them whenever I need another boost.

I've needed that boost many times in the last few years. When faced with a mob of women in baseball who similarly questioned me because of the name "heels" in my own blog name, and in "All Heels on Deck,' who saw nothing wrong with demeaning me and my work, rather than have a disagreement and discussion as equals and colleagues. They called me out on Twitter, delighting in every person who joined in and tore me down, even in the most petty, traditionally catty manner (a former friend jumped in to add something weirdly personal, and one of those very serious feminist women in baseball favorited those tweets, and resonded with cutesy "lol's," in response to grade school trash gossip that had zero to do with the seriousness of our discussion). But they didn't think about their form of slut shaming, and how it was impacting me, or others who didn't understand what their mission was meant to accomplish. As depressing as those times were, as depressing as many moments in my career have been when faced with hatred and questions about my integrity, I called on that fire that has done me good in many situations in this business. And when Taylor stood so firmly, and "spoke" so loudly, I wanted to hug her, fight for her, and possilbly write some poetry for her. 

...but for now, I'll just commend her courage. I'll thank her for giving me a boost, and for rallying so many women and men who would not stand for the misogyny and utter disrespect. We got yet another reminder that we face an uphill battle in the industry, that men can still get away with directing the conversation about us, rather than having a conversation with us, that is driven by equal respect. McNeil and Gottlieb, and the baseball writer who harassed me, are examples of men in the business who refuse to relinquish that power. How would men in their position move around the industry, if we really were equals?

As for me, reshaping my life and career came to pass. After so many years of using that proverbial fire to withstand sexist humilation from players, coaches and colleagues, I realized I needed to find the light instead. I've chosen new areas of focus, new projects, reigniting my passion, while also being mindful of how I'm feeling, unlike before, when I was mostly comfortably numb, and on autopilot. 

Yes, that also meant I was giving up a bit. I was saying, "I've had enough." That was not what I dreamed I would do, and it hurt to grow up and be willing to say that to the world. But I, like so many women in sports media, continue to walk the path, lighting it as needed along the way, or asking for light when we most need that boost. Hopefully, Taylor felt the power of the support around her. There's no doubt we DESERVE it. 

The Houston Astros Of "Second Chances"-Ville

The Houston Astros name should now be fully synonymous with "playing dirty."

There's a multitude of reasons, endless evidence that what they represent is everything that's wrong with baseball. 

While that's not a new opinion, it becomes truer over and over, with each incident of failure, followed by a failure in response to whatever they've done as an organization. 

In the latest press conference with Astros owner and chairman, Jim Crane, he answered questions on a variety of topics, including what Bob Nightengale correctly calls, "one of the greatest cheating scandals in baseball history."

"People are aggravated the players didn't get suspended," Crane says, finishing his thought with a sort of non-answer. "Listen, it's always going to be whatever you want to call it." Yes,it is. But what does he call it? 

He's non-committal later, throwing out statements colored with his own aggravation, such as, "We're sorry. We apologized," and "People wanted me out of baseball...the players suspended. They wanted everything."

Everything, as in accountability, and an ability to not posit themselves as victims, or underdogs, recovering from an unfair punishment. But many Astros players found that difficult to do including Houston's second baseman Jose Altuve, who, when asked if he feels remorese, told the media, "Yeah, kind of.", And, clearly, Astros leadership, Crane specifically, is with them in their stance. His thoughts on the scandal, and initial response in the press conference, can be read in full here.

https://www.usatoday.com/story/sports/mlb/columnist/bob-nightengale/2020/07/31/astros-owner-jim-crane-sign-stealing-sorry/5544673002/

Crane's positiion, in almost everything he's asked about, is that the Astros have been somehow wronged, everyone is asking for too much, and he feels badly only in an abstract, forced sense, because he has to, because he's being asked to feel badly. But he can barely stretch his empathy muscles when talking about people who were actually wronged. That's never more true, than when he's asked about former Assistant GM Brandon Taubman, and pitcher Roberto Osuna.

"Thank God we got Osuna," Taubman yelled, the night the team won the AL Championship Series. 

But it wasn't just that he yelled it, it was at who it was directed, and the player he was celebrating. 

Osuna had been arrested in Toronto, when still with the Blue Jays, and was charged with assault. The allegation was that he'd assaulted his girlfriend, Alejandra Roman Cota, the mother of his toddler son. As many victims of violence do, Roman Cota refused to testify. He agreed to a peace bond, which stated he couldn't contact the victim for one year. On June 22nd, after being placed on administrative leave, he received a 75-game suspension, without pay, for violating MLB's domestic violence policy, a policy that was a step in the right direction, but remains in need of tweaking. 

The length of the suspension was the third-longest under the policy, but still not nearly enough for intimate violence. Jays manager John Gibbons tone in response to the suspension, is a master class that MLB seems all too eager to teach in "both sides-ism."

"Hopefully, it all gets worked out on both sides and everyone gets the help they need, and everything works out fine," he said at the time. 

To clarify, "both sides" didn't need the same kind of help. The victim needed support, and to be centered in the story as the victim. The abuser, Osuna, was in need not just of punishment, but disciplined guidance from leadership around him. Like, say, his team's manager.

The trade from Toronto to Houston was, apparently, one the Astros took very seriously. Ultimately, they decided Osuna was worth it, and believed that he deserved the old second chance, that manages to be both without exact description, and unbelievably cruel to victims of violence. It treats the victim as if she doesn't exist. The Osuna narrative is nothing new. 

When the Astros won the AL CS, the clubhouse was, of course, filled with cheer and noisy celebration. But Taubman was especially vocal, and loud. And had a direct target. There were women reporters in the clubhouse, and they were nearby, when he bellowed, "Thank God we got Osuna." Other reporters who were present confirmed the report that Sports Illustrated reporter Stephanie Apstein tweeted. One of the women he directed his glee towards was wearing a purple domestice-violence awareness bracelet. Taubman was later fired, but not before the Astros did everything wrong. They began by defending Taubman, which included questioning the credibility and honesty of Apstein. Their first statement kicked off with callilng the SI story "misleading and completely irresponsible." They finished by stating it was "an attempt to fabricate a story where one does not exist."

After that graceless, victim-blaming statement, the Astros were forced to confront the facts. Post-terminating Taubman, then team GM Jeff Luhnow said, "I wouldn't wish it on anyone in this room, just like I wouldn't wish it on anyone in this room to sit up here, and answer these questions either." 

Do the Astros employ a violinist? They should. It's the natural accompaniment music to their response to these moments, when self-reflection and rightful responsibility utterly eludes them. 

Luhnow was later fired, even after his "apology" to Apstein, whose career he could've ruined.

But wait! Crane has some news. Another career was ruined. And it's totally unfair, according to his wisdom. 

"Brandon Taubman didn't commit domestic violence. He just made a comment. It's nothing you can defend," he said in the presser, as he literally defends Taubman. He then goes on to say, "He had a few cocktails. He was happy. There were people constantly coming at him over (Osuna), and he overreacted. Did he do the right thing? No. Everybody makes mistakes. But is he a good, genuine decent person and a smart kid? Absolutely."

This entire string of sentences is full of lies upon lies, upon absurd suggestions, and completely dismisses victims of domestic violence, the reporters Taubman taunted and renders the team's later apology a useless excercise, faithlessly concocted in order to calm the storm. All of it contains a grain of untruth. Brandon Taubman is in his thirties. Having a few cocktails doesn't make one a domestic abuser apologist and fan. He didn't JUST make a comment. He purposely directed that comment to women in the clubhouse, including one showing support for DV awareness. 

There is also, however, an unrelenting truth included in these new statements from Crane. He is sorry for nothing. He doesn't think anyone who did anything he was asked about--not cheating the game and opponents, not taunting women about a domestic abuser, nor the the abuser--should be subjected to questions of their integrity. He doesn't think they should be fired, suspended or held responsible. His leadership is a void, a gaping hole with no bottom. 

There is also a failure by many in the media to refuse any framing outside of the sympathetic one. While Bob Nightengale has built a long career, and has earned industry respect, he's one of a number of men reporters who exhibit disinterest in their reporting on these intersecting subjects, outside the "second chance" go-to framing. There's no pushing for more responsibility. There's always the centering of athletes as heroes, who've risen from the ashes of their self-made fires. 

Jim Crane is the face of all that's wounded in the heart of Major League Baseball. There are others, sure. But he stands tall, shameless, righteous in his execution of pride and progress in America's pastime. 

*alternations to the original image above were made by author

Follow on Twitter @heelsonthefield

'Sleepless In Seattle' Is A Perfect Movie For This Baseball Season And Baseball Fans. Here's Why.

Watch closely, and you'll see the impact of baseball on Sam Baldwin's life-changing decision. 

Maggie Baldwin (portrayed by Carrie Lowell, who looks like she could be Ryan's sister) is seen only briefly, but powerfully in two tender scenes. Sam either sees her spirit, or she's a figment of his imagination, when he falls asleep on the couch alone on New Year's Eve. In a few short words, we see her humor and kindness, then, we see her helplessness and sadness. She can't do anything to truly help Sam, and then she's gone.

But it's a scene early in the movie that sets the stage for Sam's life-altering realization. A co-worker approaches him at his desk, gently handing his widowed colleague a card, nudging him to see "his shrink." Sam's response is deeply defensive. He unloads his pocket, full of cards others have handed him, hoping to support him in grief. Sam immediately regrets his anger, and apologizes.

When Sam suggests getting Jonah away from there, his co-worker agrees. "Take Jonah fishing," he encourages. 

Sam replies, "No. Somewhere where I don't see Maggie everywhere I go."

The flashback that follows confirms that, not only are the Baldwins Chicago Cubs fans, but Maggie's spirit is far too present, too connected to Wrigley Field. Sam can't even go to a Cubs game without his wife there. A whole stadium is now off-limits.. And so, he decides to move his sleepless routine far away, where it "rains nine months out of the year." Where the retractable roof at Safeco Field, home of the Seattle Mariners, has been closed "eight of the stadium's18,5 seasons being closed 19-23 percent of the time," wrote Scott Sistek for the KOMO News. Where Maggie doesn't follow him to baseball games, he seems to theorize. 

Heartbroken Sam could've thought about any place he'd made memories with Maggie and Jonah. He could've recalled their wedding day, or a night spent playing cards by candlelight at home where, one could argue, he likely has the most memories of her. But in his mind, exhausted with those memories, Sam remembers a Cubs game. The slow motion image, very briefly, tells a story. Baseball was family time. Maggie was a baseball lover. She loved flowy dresses. That last one isn't important, but she looks lovely.

Sam Baldwin is a brilliant character because he's written with a broad brush, and portrayed with many emotional layers; in the simplest terms; you're getting to know him even in the last frame of the 1993 blockbuster. And we never fully see that emotional reserve overflow, until the moment he finds his son on top of the Empire State Building, and wonders if he's done everything wrong. 

Annie played by Meg Ryan is searching too, but quite differently from Sam. As an anxiety-riddled woman who loves her fiance, she's troubled by the a nagging sense that he's not the right person for her. Her feeling of connection with Sam starts via a radio show, with "Doctor Marsha," listening in as she drives home from a Christmas feast, announcing her engagement to Walter (oh, Bill Pullman, you loveable, alergic mess). Jonah called in to let radio listenders know his Dad needs a "new wife." And Dr. Marsha is happy to help. Listeners are hooked by the sad story of father and son, alone and still grieving. 

Before the fateful phone call she witnesses along with thousands of other women, and during her announcement surrounded by family, Walter sits beside her and makes a "historical reference" to baseball. 

"Today I consider myself the luckiest man-man-man on the face of the earth-earth-earth," Walter, a guy with a sweet but perhaps corny sense of humor, says at the table, post-announcement. The family is confused, and Annie, presumably a baseball fan, explains that it's the Lou Gehrig line. 

We see the makings of a romantic match between Annie and Sam. But there's something more. We know their destinies are meant to link in various key ways, and we know that what they're searching for is each other, they just don't know it yet. 

Annie's best friend Becky, played lovingly and impatiently, by Rosie O'Donnell, does send the letter that Annie wrote, and thought went in the trash. She, like the audience, is struck by the possibility that Annie and Sam are MFE, as in Made For Each Other-- a perfectly absurd acronym that the perfectly cast Gabby Hoffman (Jonah's friend Jessica) writes confidenty pretending to be Sam in response. But Sam is disturbed, not enticed, by the tons of letters he receives from women who listened to him on the radio talking about his deceased wife. Before he walks out the door to go on a date with seemingly suitable, fellow architect, Victoria, Barbara Garrick, whose quirks and charm are immediately evident later that night, Jonah begins to read Annie's letter. 

"Brooks Robinson is the best third baseman..." Jonah is impressed, and his dad, distracted and unmoved, only briefly lights up when he reads the opinion on Robinson. 

Victoria actually has a baseball up her sleeve too, suggesting she can get the Baldwins to a baseball game, in response to some heavy taunting from Jonah, who is frustrated by his Dad's refusal to pay attention to Annie's letter, and is not accepting of him dating Victoriam regardless of her offer to get box seats (the kid just doesn't know about such rare VIP treatment at a ballpark)

All of these elements might feel random, and David S. Ward actually contributed the line about Brooks Robinson, but Ephron has written about baseball before. When she was still a journalist and columnist, she wrote an essay about first woman umpire, Bernice Gera, in 1973.In 1979, she wrote "Love-- at Arm's Length." about her love for Pittsburgh Pirates reliever sidearm pitcher Ken Tekulve. Ephron clarifies in that essay, that she's "not a baseball fan." But she has her moments, of curiousity, of wonder. She was a writer and observer of all things-- personal style, aging, politics, love in all it's forms, sisterhood, certainly music, and much MUCH more-- and, as the review on the back cover of her essay collection 'Scribble, Scribble" goes, by fellow journalist John Leonard, "[she] can write about anything better than anybody else can write about anything.

The movie's themes have a nostalgic feel, and not just because it's a new twist on an old movie ("An Affair To Remember"). The soundtrack too is pure nostalgia. Even modern artists like Celine Dion cover standards, rather than contribute something modern, and easily radio playable. 

The selected songs conjure memory and a sense of something lovely that seems out of style. Ken Burns revered documentary "Baseball," features Natalie Cole and her legendary father Nat King Cole, who also features on the "Sleepless" soundtrack with the gorgeous, "Stardust." Carly Simon, who earlier contributed the theme song to Ephron's deeply personal movie "Heartburn" (adapted from her own book), is heard on "Wee Small Hours Of The Morning." on "Sleepless.: On Burns project she sings the baseball anthem "Take Me Out To The Ballgame." The Americana of Ephrons project is surely by design.

Maybe i'm crazy, but "Sleepless In Seattle" seems like a baseball lover's kind of movie.

The nostalgia, the darkly romantic themes, mixed with tug-at-your-heart romanticism, the wedding dress Annie tries on that belonged to her mother, the father and son bonding, all combine to make the story so similar to our love of baseball. And then, there's that moment. Slow-motion. Excitedly walking toward Wrigley Maggie puts her cap on. Maggie, who "made everything beautiful," who's now gone. And, in the end, the woman who believes Brooks Robinson was the best third baseman ever, finds her way to the man who loves Maggie, his son and presumably, will love Cubs games as family time. 

With all the heartache we're experiencing in the world, all of the confusion and sense of loss in our lives, and around the things we love, and that certainly includes baseball, dare I say, baseball fans, watch "Sleepless In Seattle" again or finally, if you've managed to miss it to this point. What we love about baseball, and life, is what Sleepless in Seattle pays a most heartfelt, humorous, twinkly-eyed tribute to. 

'The Wax Pack' Is A Journey Into The Soul Of Baseball And Confronting Fear

Brad Balukjian's Debut "The Wax Pack" Takes Readers On A Soulful Journey Via A Pack of Baseball Cards, And A Road Trip Seeking Out The Men Behind The Stats

Philadelphia, PA-- Brad Balukjian wanted answers.

As a biology teacher, he's accustomed to helping to answer many questions every day. But beyond science, he wanted to understand more about himself. He wanted to understand more about the people he’d known as a kid. Not his neighbors, but baseball players. And particularly those who were not exactly in the limelight anymore, or, perhaps, never quite were in the white hot spotlight, even when they played in the major leagues.

The entire project began with a few scribbled questions in his scorebook. One of which was, "What can I learn from them about what lies ahead for me?" That question led to others, and then, to a plan. The final project, "The Wax Pack: On The Road In Search Of Baseball's Afterlife,: isn’t just a book about baseball or players; it’s not just a record of history: it’s biographical, yes, but there’s a deeper intimacy that permeates the stories--both Balukjian’s and the players--and how they’re told.

“Some of it developed as I wrote. I didn’t know I was going to write about OCD, or relationships," said Balukjian by telephone in late spring. "But I ended up writing about connections and fear. I knew I’d be a character in the book but I didn’t know to what degree.”

Tonally, there’s a mixed bag in his repertoire: humor, heavier elements recalling personal failures and loss, there are tales of wild times, settling down, and, ultimately, family. :

“I’m glad you picked up on that. Thank you. That was my intention. Some of the stories were just going to be funny, others were going to be very sad and serious,” he said.

Balukjian grew up obsessed with underdogs, feeling like one himself, he talks about the feeling of standing alone in a corner, or a favorte train track at the local station, simply beause it was underused.

Baseball underdogs and "benchwarmers" were also a favorite as his passion for baseball deepened throughout his childhood. He attended "countless ball games as a kid," he writes, and it was his dad to taught him how to wrap tin foil around the antenna of his transistor radio in order to hear Philadelphia Phillies games. 

The book is as much about fathers and sons, as it is about the experience of baseball, and personal struggles. The real romance here, is about a boy and his dad, bonding through the love of the game. A passion passed down, and nurtured simply by sitting and gazing ahead at a field and an unfolding contest. 

He bridges that kind of experience to players he talks to on the trip. One of those players Lee Mazzilli, a former New York Mets first round pick, who played part of his thirteen year career in the outfield for the Mets, as well as the Yankees and Texas Rangers. When his son, Lee Jr., known as L.J., was drafted out of the University of Connecticut, the former Husky was greeted with fanfare by Mets media, personnel and fans. Following in his father's footsteps, a story that fits so snuggly into this collection, young Mazzilli had some pressure on him to be part of a story bigger than himself. But while covering him when he played for the Short Season Mets affiliate, the Brooklyn Cyclones, he never seemed wrapped up in that; perhaps on guard is a better way to describe his demeanor. The night of the MLB Draft, he could've immediately been pulled into the media lights. But instead of agreeing to talk, he quickly informed me that it wasn't quite time for that. 

"Yeah, I just want to be with my parents right now," he said. That personal story didn't surprise Balukjian. 

"With them, it's all about family," he said, recalling the unassuming warmth and welcome mat he received upon talking with Mazzilli matriarch Dani."She treats you like an old friend. It's a wonderful family life to witness."

During that portion of the trip, Balujkian's father was able to join his son's adventure. It was an important moment for him to connect his relationship with baseball, his dad and his mission. 

"The timing was perfect to bring those stories together. [Him being there], and talking with Lee, showed the bonds between father and sons, through baseball," Balukjian said. 

While the author intimates that the book is largely about fathers and sons, he recently clarified on his Twitter account that his relationship with his mother, and her support of his love for baseball, particularly collecting hard to find cards, was a big part of his childhood; calling her “supportive and loving;” he remembers her being open to a drive to search for something he pined for.

“I would make lists of all the “common cards” that I wanted to collect. This is all pre-internet, so getting those cards meant going to baseball card shops or the houses of private collectors with my lists of players no one wanted, and it was my mom who would drive me to all these places because she saw how passionate I was, and how much joy it brought me. She is one of my heroes,” he said. In the book, he also thanks for not throwing out the collection, keeping them stored safely in her condo. 

As he prepared to release the passion project, one that had been rejected 37 times before Nebraska Press gave it the green light, a dark cloud moved in. At first, our safety didn't seem threatened, but worry grew quickly: what would become of this thing called “COVID-19?” We never imagined the weeks ahead. How life would become unrecognizable; our worries were transformed to something often seen in movies (PANIC), Leisure and the day-to-day humdrum would suddenly be thwarted, shaped into a new and strained normal. For authors with promotional book tours, well, that wasn’t going to happen. From that vacant space, a special club was borne of the need to amplify their work, and not see threir long-developed projects fall through the cracks.

“The Pandemic Baseball Book Club started when several of us with books affected by the pandemic, began promoting each other’s works on Twitter, and discussing how we might help each other,” he said. “It’s grown to a group of twenty-three writers with a podcast, swag, a blog, and much more. Although I haven’t met most of the members in person, I feel like they’ve been friends for years. It’s been touching to see how everyone has worked to help each other.”

The club includes Anika Orrock (“I’ve known her for years”), Emily Nemens, D.B. Firstman, Joan Ryan, Ralph Carhart, and Kat Williams.

His plans for a future project will likely focus on his vocation, something scientific (one could argue that he could write a scientific book about baseball!), but, according to Balukjian, there will be no sequel to something he feels turned out so perfectly, all the pieces, the stories, the characters, Balukjian included, found their way to one another in a fateful, fascinating way.

Perhaps he found some of the answers he was looking for.

Follow Brad Balukjian on Twitter @waxpackbook

The Emotional Connection of a Baseball Life: Part One

 

The Emotional Connection of a Baseball Life

By Jessica Quiroli

 

The sounds of baseball are distinct.

The pop of the bat, the hard slap of the ball in the glove, a fielder yelling, “I got it! I got it!” to his nearby teammates. Vendors making the rounds, walk-up music that becomes familiar to home team fans when each player makes their appearance. Then there’s the distinct sound of baseball silence. It’s a low key hum, the buzz of the next moment unfolding slowly: player steps out of the batters box, his name announced, he takes a moment at the plate, as does the pitcher. We are generally, usually, seated. Waiting. There’s something coming, but it doesn’t happen in an on-field huddle or echo off of a hardwood floor. It simmers. Then…the pop. Or a crack. Bat. Glove. Some sound that lifts the crowd in anticipation, groaning or cheering, willing it their way.

As quiet as the game of baseball is, it’s distinct sounds are embedded in the minds and hearts of baseball fans. To not hear those sounds, on an April afternoon scheduled to be opening week, is a silence that feels brutally relentless and entirely unfamiliar. Coronavirus, a global pandemic, has stopped human existence as we knew it, for the time being, with no timetable yet clear.

How strange this world to a baseball fan, in the spring, the season of baseball’s new life, we're sitting and staring out a window, as if it were winter in the Rogers Hornsby quote; that quote, so famous for capturing the holding pattern of winter for anyone who loves, plays or works in baseball.

There’s a deeper meaning to baseball’s presence in many fans lives. It connects them to memories of family, to their children as they grew up, and, even, to weddings.

“My husband and I fell in love bonding over baseball,” says Heather Linington-Noble, an Orioles “super fan and writer. “We had an Orioles/Dodgers wedding.” [as seen in photo]

But, as Heather also points out, the depth of the connection to baseball is far more than just romantic or fun, and it’s more complex than just being escapism. Baseball is an elixir for those suffering from depression, anxiety and difficult moments in life that feel overwhelming. I’m among them. And I’ve been open about that in the last few years.

“Baseball is my safe space,” Linington continues,” It’s what grounds me, and keeps me centered and sane, however chaotic the rest of my life is, and no matter how depressed I am, I know I can find comfort in baseball.”

In 2014, Eric Simons wrote “What science can tell sportswriters about why we love sports,” examining the emotional behaviors of sports fans, and why it all means so damn much to us. He cited a lot of solid research, some of it fun, some of it inconclusive, and a lot of it very enlightening.

“There is no single answer to why people watch sports, because the answer doesn’t lie in the game; it lies inside the individual,” he wrote. He went onto write about mirror neurons, neurons that fire when an animal acts, and when the animal then observes the same action performed by another. In other words, we connect with those who are like us, and love the same things. We see ourselves, and we feel seen.

One example that kept coming up when I asked baseball Twitter about their emotional connections to baseball was loss. When we share that love, and a person we shared it with is gone, the experience shifts to mean something beyond being a fan.

A baseball fan known as @christy_doc, answered in a few short, heavy-hearted words.

“My oldest brother took his own life two years ago in March. His birthday is October 30^th. I’ve been a Nationals fan since 2012,” she wrote.

The Washington Nationals won the World Series on October 30^th, 2019.

“I will always remember that night no matter what,” Christy said. “I was bawling my eyes out on the living room floor that night.”

Her experience isn’t unique, but it’s an intensely private pain that puts our love of the game in perspective. We’re tethered to teams in many ways, sharing our suffering when they lose, while also feeling the power of a loss of someone through the game. When the Nationals won the World Series, Christy’s partner in the love of the team wasn’t there. Our mourning of loved ones can be deeply tied to our baseball memories.

In answer to that, how does baseball heal us? What does it provide us spiritually? And what impact does watching, and being part of the baseball community have on depression?

Karen Soutar, a one-time contributor to All Heels on Deck, and current staff writer for Jays From the Couch, recalls a particularly challenging period of her life when baseball had meaningful impact on how she coped.

“I suffered from depression years ago, and took medication to get better,” she responded on Twitter. “The absence of baseball is threatening to send me “down that rabbit hole” again. I’m just trying to keep busy and focus on as many positives as I can.”

As April begins without a baseball game, without those sounds, we’re seeking each other out, as partners, as friends, as a community support system. We’re seeking the positives, but also a way to keep close what we love.

In Part Two of this series, we’ll share more of those loving fan memories, and explore more of the important ways baseball has been a way to manage depression.

MiLB Watch: What's Next in the Fight for a Fair Wage? Garrett Broshius Answers

MiLB Watch will be a recurring feature on HOTF, running short interviews and stories, as well as servivng as a round-up of five current stoies of interest. While HOTF was once a MiLB-only platform, the re-launch has expanded the focus. MiLB will continue to be a leading issue covered here. I hope MiLB Watch is informative and entertaining to baseball fans.~ Jessica Quiroli, Editor/Founder HOTF

Garrett Broshius Continues His Longtime Fight To Get A Fair Wage For Minor Leaguers

Broshius has been minor league players biggest champion for many years. He's a former player, so he knows exactly what that life is like. But when he became a lawyer, he made minor league pay a focal point in his legal career. His fight is personal. And in light of recent positive developments, he's in it for the long haul. Here's what he had to say over the weekend.

HOTF: When you began this work so many years ago, did you view this as a "political" issue? One that needed attention as a working class issue, not just in the realm of baseball?

GB: When I was still playing many years ago, I didn’t view it as a political issue—just an issue of basic fairness. We spent all these hours working at the field, doing whatever we were told, and yet some of my teammates could barely afford to eat. It never seemed right. Why in Double-A, while just two steps from the big leagues, were players being paid $7,500 for an entire year of work?

As the years went by, though, I did start to see it through the lens of a larger trend in our society. We’re in a new Gilded Age, with disparities in wealth reaching record levels, and with the divide between haves and have nots growing every day. Baseball is a microcosm of that trend. Since MLB players achieved free agency in 1976, MLB salaries have risen by over 3000%. MLB revenue growth has grown even more quickly. And yet minor league salaries have hardly budged over that time. That’s not to say that minor league players should be compensated like major league players—of course they shouldn’t be. But is minimum wage too much to ask for? Is $15,000 for an entire year of work too much? Indeed, the average minor leaguer has far less purchasing power today than in 1976. The batboy often makes more per hour than the minor league players.

And now MLB’s proposal to shutter 42 minor league teams has delivered it fully into the political arena. I only hope that politicians realize that not only do we need to protect these teams, but we also need to protect these players and ensure that they make above-poverty-level wages. We can do better, and we must do better if we want our national pastime to thrive in future generations.

HOTF: During the long process, what conversations have stood out to you with players you've talked to or who are in the lawsuit. I'm in no way asking for names. Just things that have impacted you or reminded you why this is so important. 

The magnitude of the problem is really astounding because it’s system-wide. With MLB enjoying an antitrust exemption that allows the MLB teams to collude on minor league salaries, and with no minor league union to push back against these collusive efforts, salaries have been suppressed far below the market value. The result is across-the-board hardships. Players cramming six guys into two-bedroom apartments, sleeping on air mattresses. A player who couldn’t afford a plane ticket for his young son to come out and see him. A player who would skip meals to save money; the first thing he would eat would be a peanut butter and jelly sandwich at the field. Those are the guys we’re trying to help out.

HOTF: The proposal to eliminate 42 MiLB teams has stunned & frustrated many people. How will players, particularly new draftees, suffer without more opportunities to play? Do you believe MLB will execute the plan?

Fewer teams means fewer minor league teams, which means fewer minor league players. There are so many examples of players drafted beyond the 20^th round making it to the big leagues. So I hope it doesn’t come to fruition. Obviously I would love to see higher minor league salaries—that’s what we’re fighting for. I’d also love to see some playing surfaces bettered and some clubhouses upgraded. And some of the leagues are, without a doubt, too spread out and it causes travel headaches (and backaches). Those are real problems that MLB is complaining about. But I hope the folks negotiating the PBA can address those problems without cutting teams. There’s a lot of time left before the current PBA expires, so I’m cautiously optimistic.

HOTF: Finally, what's the next step in the lawsuit? How much progress are you making? 

We won our appeal in the Ninth Circuit in August, which allows the case to remain a class action. MLB has indicated that it intends to ask the Supreme Court to take the case, which is what is currently preventing us from getting back to the trial court. We’re doing some things to try to get back to the trial court as quickly as possible because we’re ready to get moving again. And there are a lot of minor leaguers going to spring training soon—where they’ll work without pay for an entire month—who are anxious to see us get moving again. So we’ve already completed a lot of the work and are making progress, but we have a lot more to do.

The Beautiful Science of Meredith Wills Baseball Life and Career

Meredith Wills is explaining the difference between physics and science.

She’s thorough, as you’d expect, in describing the differences in a way that doesn’t turn boring. She’s relating it to baseball, so that helps. A lot. But she to clarify exactly what her work is. Her very thorough, thoughtful explanation of the inner workings of science and physics continues.

“Actually (and despite the astrophysics background), I don't think of my baseball construction studies as "physics." Science, yes, but not physics. Physics relates to applying the laws of physics and putting them in a real-world context,” she continues, explaining, “Alan Nathan looks at physics; Barton Smith (baseballaero.com) looks at physics; Rob Arthur looks at at physics. I, on the other hand, study the structure of the baseball itself, and use my knowledge from other fields (physics, fiber arts etc.) to understand how changes to its makeup may have implications going both forward and back.”

She goes on to describe the thing that draws so many baseball fans, intellectuals, analyzers and writers to her study of that little round thing we’re happily obsessed with.

“By "forward," I mean how measurable changes (seam height, roundness, leather sm oothness etc.) could affect the ball's in-game performance. The most visible connections have been to the 2017 Home Run Surge, the 2019 Home Run Surge, and the 2019 Postseason "Dead Ball" (largely because home runs are exciting and that's what the physicists look at.) However, defensive players (outfielders, and especially pitchers) have been affected as well. For instance, changes to the 2019 regular season ball were reported by pitchers months before my June article came out. Also, one could argue that Aaron Sanchez' career was derailed by the laces on the late-2015 - 2018 ball.”

This continues, and becomes no less fascinating as she weaves intricate storytelling, personal experience and scientific (yes?) facts to explain the central aspect of her work in baseball: understanding the actual baseball. And, more than thats, she’s asking Major League Baseball to examine, with the assistance of expertise such as hers, to explain changes in the ball. One might assume that MLB would show great interest in understanding the ball, and how its changes have impacted the game. But when asked…

“ I assume you mean the work on the pre-2019 ball? Actually, there was surprisingly little response over the course of 2018. A few days after the article came out, I did have a telecon with a few members of MLB's HR Committee, but no official notice beyond that,” she said. “In fact, the closest MLB has ever come to publicly acknowledging my work is a vague parenthetical reference in the 2019 Home Run Committee Report, discounting "alternate hypotheses discussed in the media (e.g. roundness, surface roughness, lace thickness)" as affecting drag. It turns out those are all section headings in my June 2019 article,” she said.

Wills goes on to say that after her first piece was published in June of 2018, there was strangely no more mention she could find of the ball, and home run production by major league players. She cites an NBC Sports piece as the sole reference to the home run resurgence. Major League Baseball Commissioner Rob Manfred dismissed any notion that there’s an issue. (https://mlb.nbcsports.com/2019/02/27/rob-manfred-still-thinks-other-factors-contributed-to-rise-in-homers/ , https://twitter.com/EricFisherSBG/status/1100838741340577795).

“Needless to say, this flat out contradicts the findings of MLB's own Home Run Committee,” Wills states.

Manfred has been a fierce protector of the gates that surround the MLB empire. This is just another example of unwillingness to examine the modern game, and how some things need to change, while other aspects clearly have already changed. To ignore the latter takes effort. But Wills work isn’t just taking up space somewhere, waiting to be attended to. She actively promotes her findings on social media (find her on Twitter @Bbl_Astrophyscs), engaging and debating regularly.

Her baseball life mixes the scientific elements with the romantic; the basis of facts with the human emotions of wonder and curiosity; the guiding light of childhood with the broader light of what lies ahead. The impact of her research was particularly felt in 2018 at a SABR Seminar, where she gave a talk on the 2017 ball, including debuting forthcoming research that thicker laces would’ve led to a “rounder ball.” She wasn ‘t entirely prepared for the response. “While the general response was positive, that of the HR Committee was unexpected. They did a panel the following morning, and for some reason spherical symmetry was not addressed as a possible way to decrease drag. In the Q&A, nobody brought up my name, but there were questions referring to my results, and the answers that were, in some cases, just odd,” she said.

There are several scenarios we can imagine in which this all happens to a woman in baseball, but one of those scenarios is that this happens to a woman in baseball because she is a woman in baseball. This possibility isn’t shocking. But looking beyond that, there’s no answer that isn’t cynical (or maybe just realistic) as to why someone as highly respected and knowledgeable should be ignored by MLB for these discoveries. What will major league baseball do with Wills findings, if anything? Whatever the answer in the future, she’s going to keep her voice.

Baseball is not a passing interest. It’s permeated her being since the day she was born. Opening Day to be exact. Wills describes a childhood that began with an early introduction to baseball, (“I was three weeks old when I attended my first ballgame.”) and parents who announced her birth with baseball in mind; she was posed in a baseball cap beside a bat, with the caption, “Just in time for Spring Training!” She shifted her career from astrophysics to becoming a sports data scientist, and works as a Product Specialist for SportsMEDIA. Oh, and by the way, she's also in the Baseball Hall of Fame. A few years ago, her other passion, knitting, led her to a contest for a knitting design. Her winning creation--a pair of Colorado Rockies socks-- was chosen to represent the fan organization Stitch and Pitch.

As her research has developed, so has her enthusiasm and interest in expanding that work. But what makes Dr. Meredith Wills run?

“Actually, that's a good question. I'd say that are two things. First, there's simply the idea of completeness. Most of the questions I'm asking aren't (in my opinion) that difficult to answer, and if the ball ever stabilizes, any additional research becomes sort of "fringe." However, since the ball keeps changing (and differently each time), I'm going to keep asking questions,” she said.

And those questions have a lot to do with the history of the little white object, and understanding more about how and when signficant changes began to show up in hitter's production. 

"I'd like to look at baseball construction historically, especially over the past 50 years. For instance, I'd be curious to see if the home run increase at the beginning of the Steroid Era was entirely player-related, or if there might have been some contribution from the ball. The 1987 Rabbit Ball is another obvious candidate. The problem is getting enough baseballs to study," she explains. 

We spend so much time--whether as baseball fans, journalists, bloggers, and/or analysts-- observing and assessing swing paths, batspeed and other aspects of hitting; Wills is providing a unique service to the baseball conversation.  

"At present, no one has any idea what that baseball will look like or how it will behave," she says later in the conversation.

 

One doesn't have to be necessarily knowledgeable about science, or physics, to find the possibilities of what she might find in the future deeply interesting, and extremely exciting.

 

 

Who Is Watching Baseball?

In a 2018 piece for SABR, Jeva Lange asked, via headline, “Women love baseball. Why doesn’t baseball love them back?”

A year later, Danielle Allentuck and Kevin Draper’s New York Times story asked, “Baseball Saw a Million More Empty Seats. Does it Matter?”

In Lange’s study, she writes in a personal tone at times, exploring the themes of the narrative that repeat over and over through time: that women fans are a novelty, a joke (women fans being mocked at an Arizona Diamondbacks game for taking selfies), or an afterthought (acquiring players who’ve committed domestic violence, such as Roberto Osuna and Aroldis Chapman)

Allentuck and Draper highlighted the dwindling attendance over several years, reporting that,“Total attendance across 2,429 major league games during the regular season dropped by about 1 million fans this season to about 68.5 million, about 14 percent lower than a high of 79.5 million tickets sold in 2007.”

Comparatively, in her decidedly optimistic New York times piece, “How Popular is Baseball Really?,” Juliette Love wrote “if viewed through the lens of total tickets sold and local television ratings, a somewhat more optimistic picture emerges: one of strong, local fan bases---and a national following that could a lot more room to grow.” She also points to Minor League Baseball, writing that, “the 160 MLB-affiliated minor league teams sold nearly 50 milliion tickets in 2017.”

Baseball, for all the Americana glory and inspired romanticism, is a business. But how is Major League Baseball Commissioner Rob Manfred so completely missing the neon signs about growing the game locally, and tapping into that passion? For all his big planning, very few devoted baseball fans want what he’s selling. And yet, there’s clear proof that those devoted baseball fans haven’t given up.

On the other hand, looking beyond the average white, male fan, there are far too many lifelong fans who are feeling increasingly alienated from the game.

“Of course there are Afro-Latinos like David Ortiz, but in terms of African-Americans? That’s another story,” says writer Stephon Johnson who wrote a brilliant piece for The Week entitled, ‘The Struggles of being a black fan.’ “There’s a specific history with that demographic that changes it’s engagement with the rest of the country. Black people are the bar  everyone measures themselves against when it comes to discrimination, prejudice and racism. C.C. Sabathia told a story awhile ago about how he was trying to explain to some white players on the Yankees the purpose of Black Lives Matters. He said they didn’t understand why you didn’t just follow the police officer’s orders? It’s that mentality that dominates the league.”

If that mentality “dominates” MLB, it stands to reason that fans who are African-American see it or, at least, know that the game is more white than ever; that the game is led by men who are utterly disconnected from their personal experience both in society and as participants in major sports. Per a 2017 study by Diversity and Ethics in Sport, the number of African-American players was just 7.7 percent, an all-time low. And a 2014 study showed that just 9 percent of the viewing audience for MLB games was black; 83 percent were white.

The varying reports show that there are signs of life. But what is undeniably clear is that kids, non-white people, women, and many other marginalized groups feel disconnected from baseball.  

Who is watching baseball?

Based on the Allentuck-Draper study, it appears the same fans watching baseball, are likely the same fans that grew up watching baseball. Per another study, just 24 percent of baseball fans are under the age of 35.

In her classic baseball fan memoir, “Wait ‘Till Next Year,” Doris Kearns Goodwin, writes poetically about the dreamy life of keeping score when she was a child.

“...the absolute pleasure that comes from prolonging the winning feeling by reliving the game, first with the scorebook, then with the wrap-up on the radio, and finally, once I learned about printed box scores, with the newspaper accounts the next day.”

Her suburban childhood in New York was immersed in the love of baseball, not just as a fun afternoon activity, but as a central point, a touchstone, in her family life.

In Johnson’s piece, he paid loving tribute to his “pick-up baseball days” in the Bronx.

“The field was concrete, the bases were drawn in chalk, and the weather was punishingly humid. I usually played shortstop, but when it came time to step to the plate, I modeled my switch-hitting batting stance after slugging outfielders: Juan Gonzalez from the right and Barry Bonds from the left. After playing, I’d walk to my grandmother’s house across the street for a snack and turn to a game on television.”

That living and breathing of baseball was normal, natural. Summers were baseball. Playing the game and watching it was part of life.

None of the research suggest kids are watching with their parents as they used to, or that they feel what Kearns-Goodwin or Johnson felt. Baseball, once weaved into the fabric of childhood around the dinner table, around a radio and later a TV, at countless ballpark trips, when a day at the baseball game didn’t break the bank, doesn’t quite feel like that touchstone anymore. This isn’t a story with solid answers. The question is as much mine as it is yours. The solutions, whatever we believe they are, aren’t certain. We know we love baseball. But plenty of baseball fans, those who are actually younger than 35, many women and African-Americans or those in the LGBTQ community, do not feel that the game is “theirs” or that it sees their brand of passion, or their identity in the stands or at home in front of the game. The preaching about players who wear their hats to the side is just one indication of tone-deafness. And no amount of manipulation by MLB can create that feeling if they can’t hear the tone.

Baseball isn’t dead. It isn’t our “past” pastime. But what does it mean to us, and to whom does it mean something? And, most importantly, what will become of baseball in the future?

Early in December, the Winter Meetings became the scene of an unfolding story that’s gripping the baseball community that illustrates the glaring difference between baseball fans and baseball decision-makers.

In a proposal that was released to the public, MLB has tentative plans to eliminate 42 minor league affiliates, a seismic gutting of the developmental system that’s served professional baseball since 1901. MiLB is the very definition of “local” baseball, of local interest. As Love observes in her story, the local fan base is where it’s at. The community that baseball creates through love of the Dodgers or Mets is huge; but the community that the farm teams create is integral and special.  

We’re talking about connection in all these various ways. Connection is what people mean when they say baseball is romantic. Connection is what creates that lump in your throat when Kevin Coster’s Ray, in ‘Field of Dreams,’ asks the spirit of his dad to “have a catch.” Connection is rivalries, “fan base,” Bleacher Creatures, ballpark proposals (hey, it’s true), and it’s why there are thousands of team items to wear, drink out of, and display on your lawn and child. We are connecting to something we love. And it’s the one thing that MLB executives, and Rob Manfred, seem woefully unable to understand about the very sport they lead.

Oh, fine, the MiLB proposal is, basically, a bargaining technique. It’s a way to show up the minor leaguers looking for a better life, and having the nerve to question the powerfully entitled. Who could forget Stan Brand stand before a room full of baseball execs and reporters at the 2015 Baseball Winter Meetings, and declaring minor league baseball players the natural enemy of the game, because many had joined a lawsuit demanding fair pay?

“I do not want to overstate the threat this suit presents,” he told those in attendance. “So..I ask you to heed the clarion call, man the battle stations and carry the message to Congress loudly and clearly. The value of grassroots baseball and our stewardship of the game needs to be protected against the onslaught of these suits.”

It’s comical to imagine this speech in light of their proposal to eliminate minor league baseball teams, therefore eliminating a lot of “grassroots baseball,” not to mention jobs for locals that aren’t just seasonal.

As MLB works tirelessly to shrink the game but increase profit, many others pursue it’s full expansion with a sense that they too aren’t the focus of those in power.

Blue Jays blogger Tammy Rainey isn’t especially impressed with MLB’s overall outreach to LGBTQ baseball fans, saying, “I can’t say how much is going through the motions and symbolism, and how much is genuine outreach.”

That particular outreach has often seemed half-baked, or, as she suggests, not especially enthusiastic, with teams doing Pride Nights that don’t necessarily indicate much more than to say, “Hey, we’re sort of trying.”

She also sees the youth movement as part of the solution to create more excitement, but that would require them to care about the “local fan base” Love wrote about.

“[MLB has] vast money and they could use it to build connections with young kids but they won’t, or they wouldn’t be jerking around MiLB,” Rainey said.

I set out looking for an answer to the initial question: Who is watching baseball? Perhaps this piece would end with something more concrete. But no. There are obvious clues here: technology, less black players leading to less black fans, women feeling ignored or treated as non-serious; the average working family being unable to afford a day at the ballpark, who turned to minor league baseball, and now, learn that too could be taken, or at least, made more difficult to enjoy.

The answer is in there somewhere. It’s all those things. However baseball transforms and develops over the next few years, building a newer, broader fan base will be a thing that we cannot possibly have exact answers to. But paying attention to what is glaringly obvious, and to how many lifelong fans feel, like Johnson’s frustration and malaise, or Rainey’s skepticism, is the place to start.

Later in Kearns-Goodwin’s book, she wrote about years of adolescence when her interest in baseball waned. Something, however, brought her back.

“If my interest in baseball had seemed dormant, it was awakened with a start when the Dodgers (then Brooklyn) began the ‘55 series with ten victories in a row.”

As her childhood became more complicated, and tensions grew in the world and in her home, she constantly returned to the love of baseball. Something always brought her back: new superstars, exciting turns of events, the unexpected win, the historic moment.

Rob Manfred and anyone else making baseball decisions could stand to consider this reality. There isn’t a perfect formula. Altering baseball like some kind of made scientist won’t bring them to the ballpark. Perhaps he could try listening to the heartbeat of the game, pay attention to those who are missing the game, rather than those who care so little. It’s not so much about hoping million of kids fall in love with baseball like the kids who sat around a radio, but asking what fans who’ve always loved it are looking for.  

Those fans passionately expressed their rage at MLB for not paying minor league players a fair wage; for proposing cuts to those teams; for outright sexist abuse of women baseball reporters in the Astros clubhouse, after a playoff game; when players who’ve committed violence against women are embraced and signed to contracts, followed by defiant statements or lukewarm apologies.

Those fans want to be heard and seen. They want to settle in front of their television (or any screen), listen closely to the live feed like on an old radio, go to the local ballpark to the see the newest prospects, check the box score on any number of social media platforms or apps, today’s version of a newspaper; they want to be engaged, included and excited.

The answer in the end is that baseball fans are watching baseball. And if the guys in the high castle pay attention, they’ll watch them. 

Thunder Manager Bobby Mitchell’s Stable of Talent in Trenton

Trenton, NJ—Things are exciting, as they usually are, in Trenton, the Double-A affiliate of the New York Yankees. There’s a mix of top ranked talent showing they’re developing at a fine pace. And then there’s guys who might not be as well-known or as hyped, but are coming through in the early spring of the 2017 season. 

Before a game against the New Hampshire Fisher Cats (Blue Jays), Thunder manager Bobby Mitchell had some thoughts on a few guys doing a solid job for the club, and advancing their development as hoped. 

The news that day was about top prospect Gleyber Torres, who was out with a sore arm, though he’d not been officially placed on the DL yet. The Yankees caution, mixed with arm soreness was what the concern boiled down to for the YOUNG (20!) player. He was placed on the 7-day DL and is expected to make his return shortly. Mitchell recalled his own playing days and said, well, sometimes your arm strength just gets, “Zapped.”

On the mound that night was top pitching prospect Justus Sheffield, making his second start of the season. Mitchell was high on him, as are the Yankees, and the enthusiasm about his potential was clear.

“Shef is dynamic. He’s one of the most competitive players that we have,” Mitchell said. “He’s got really good stuff. He’s fun to watch.”

Big on the list of what’s fun to watch, for anyone not facing him that is, is his command of mix of pitches. The hard-throwing lefty was set to go 7 innings and throw 94 pitches. He went 6 innings, and gave up one run on 3 hits to earn the win. He also got a little more leeway, throwing 97 pitches, 57 of them for strikes, outdoing top Blue Jays pitching prospect Sean Reid-Foley who lasted 3 innings, though he only allowed 2 hits and did not surrender a run. 

“We expect big things out of [Sheffield], and he expects big things out of himself.”

At the other end of the field, the bullpen has been a showcase for one guy repeating the level, big righty Cale Coshow.

Back in his New York Penn League days, Coshow was a starter and heavier. He credited his off-season weight loss after that season as highly beneficial to his health and his comfort on the mound. He could be wild back then, with less effectiveness but big power in the arm, and a willingness to challenge hitters. He just needed to polish the rough edges. This year, he’s finding his groove by finding his confidence. Mitchell says Coshow’s confidence “is growing” as he works his way through good and bad moments. 

After notching his third save of the season (he recently earned his 5th), Mitchell observed that there’s been changes in his mentality that led to the better performance. 

“He had a bad first outing and he came in and struggled and it was somewhat similar to what we saw last year. Where his confidence and command were…where he started relying on his secondary stuff too much. 

For a guy that throws 95-100, there’s no need to mix in off-speed stuff, not if he’s confident enough in his fastball. The key is commanding the heater, Mitchell said. 

“When he does, he’s effective. When he’s not commanding his fastball, he’s up in the zone and sometimes they catch up with his fastball. And then he mixes in a cutter-slider that he’s working on. The one pitch he got burned on in his first outing was a hanging slider. He’s a got that’s got that closer stuff. We just need him to stay in that role.”

Where that leads him with the Yankees is hard to figure, perhaps in short relief. What was clear from his outing the night before was that he did something he needed to (earned the save) by staying the course mentally and not reverting to bad habits (throwing up in the zone). He worked with a one-run lead and showed his grace under pressure. 

“That confidence he’s building is huge. Mentally is the biggest thing for him. He’s got the stuff; it’s just a matter of believing in his stuff,” Mitchell said. 

The strong lineup also features left fielder Zach Zehner, whom falls among players that might not be getting the attention they’ve earned. The spotlight tends to favor those receiving the most hype overall, but, also those who seem the closest to having an impact on the big club. The 2015 18th round pick for the Yankees spent 2016 in High-A Tampa, and, understandably is making some adjustments to the high level jump to Double-A. 

Mitchell had seen “Z,” as he called him in the spring, down in Tampa, Florida, the Spring Training home of the Yankees, and liked what he saw. Now he’s getting a better look at not just the player, but the person.

“His work habits stand out a lot. He works hard at everything he does. He’s very energetic. And he’s really come on strong with the bat for us. He needs to make adjustments. And he just has a very good attitude,” Mitchell said. 

Bobby Mitchell’s club this year is already showing up big: they’re 2nd in the league (Eastern Div.), just behind the Portland Sea Dogs (Red Sox), with a 10-7 record. 

You can read my continued coverage of the Trenton Thunder in the bi-weekly column ‘Stars, Heels and Stripes’ on Pinstriped Pros. And look here for ongoing coverage of the Eastern League throughout the 2017 season. 

Three Ways MLB Can Improve Marketing Baseball to Women

No More Baseball “Clinics” for Women, Engage Female Fans as Fans- Every year we hear about the “clinics” teams hold to “teach” baseball to women and girls. This is an outdated idea that ignores nearly half the major league baseball fan base who already knows baseball, and plenty of girls who are or have played the game. MLB teams need to begin treating women fans as the knowledgeable, passionate fans and consumers that they are.

Instead of the same old workshops, teams can create baseball trivia contests to win team merchandise, have a Q&A that involves a coach or player and allow them to ask some fan based questions about the season or fun random stuff that fans love hearing about (favorite music, most fun teammate, etc.,). They can also give them an opportunity to play a little baseball on the field, without condescending to them about how to play with things like “Baseball 101.” They know. They watch. Treat them that way. One coach was quoted as saying of a past clinic, “The women were very knowledgeable.” You don’t say?

If men were at this clinic, how would MLB teams approach them? They need to consider that for the future.

Host Domestic Violence Awareness Nights in Addition to Pink Nights for Breast Cancer- MLB teams haven’t been brave when it comes to domestic violence. Long viewed as a “personal” or “family” issue and certainly as a woman’s issue they didn’t want to touch too closely, they’ve dropped the ball on a play that should be easy. Show women that an issue that affects 3-in 10 women (29%), by hosting a night of awareness that benefits a local organization. MLB teams are proud of their “Pink” events, which see baseball bats turn pink and women ticket-buyers treated as important. The fear of a night that talks about domestic violence is insulting and transparent. When teams employ a player who’s been arrested for DV, it’s kind of a sticky situation, huh? Time to be brave and take more than a technical stand with a Domestic Violence Policy; they must take a philosophical stand to send a clear message about commitment to this issue.

Assign a dollar amount for every ticket sold that goes to a domestic violence shelter, design a hat for the day, and honor a local advocate or organization and present a check in a pre-game ceremony. Stop leaning into this, MLB. Fully commit.

Survey Female Fans in the Off-Season – While this one takes some logistical planning, it can be done. On the MLB site, perhaps, they could offer this opportunity to women who frequently attend games with half or full-season packages. By narrowing it to those fans, MLB can communicate with the most devoted female fans and consumers. Ask them about the merchandise offered, the promos they’d like to see, and what kind of events they’re most interested in. In doing this, MLB will better understand women who love the game and put their hard earned dollars toward attending games throughout the season.

MLB needs to evolve and start talking to women not as a commodity or outsider, but as genuine and dedicated baseball fans.

Related articles

Yankees Didi Gregorious Said the Thing He Needed to Say

EXCLUSIVE: Free Chapter 'Scouts are Scouts, We Aren't' from 'Farm Life: Covering Minor League Baseball in the Digital Age'

Exclusive Excerpts on Access, Personal Stories from 'Farm Life: Covering Minor League Baseball in the Digital Age'