Perhaps it was the rain, or actually, the constant, ping-ping-ping misty rain irritating your skin that began with the first pitch and never really let up on Sunday afternoon, June 7th, at New Scotland that by the fourth inning just about everybody that's all 10 of us to a side; imagine? 20 guys crazy enough to keep playing through a soaker with dropping temperatures and going on until the 6th inning when the game was called, and everything was wrenched wet, including the poor umpire, who hung on bravely, never complaining, for all six innings (hard way to make a hundred or so bucks), even joking at times with the batters, telling us there's a good pitcher out there and we were doomed, as most of us were anyway, and our spikes, they too were soaked, and we wondered if they were ruined, someone declared that the Blues (the team I was toiling for) had won, something like 8-3 (it might have been 6-3 or 10-3 or something else) over the Reds and the soft celebration that rose after that (OOOO-OK) was mostly for going home.
Which, of course, brings in Casey Stengel, the very quotable and often World Series-winning manager in the 1950s for the Yankees, and the still quotable manager of the regularly losing Mets in the early 60s, the first years of their existence, where he said, "There are three things you can do in a baseball game. You can win, or you can lose, or it can rain." We did the rain.
That's not to say the game was boring. Oh, no. Its just that I don't remember a whole lot of it because Im 78 and there are fewer memory cells each day and my note pad got soaked, too, so there's blue wash was all over the pages. Forty years in journalism; I should know better.
So, why wasn't it boring?
Because, believe it or not, our dugout was visited by the ghosts of major leaguers past. In various forms. Maybe they just wanted to be with us, guys still hanging on.
For example, our catcher Scott Vanker (how he withstood all that mud around home, Ill never know) told me in between innings that in a kind of passing way, he picked up some pretty historic baseball cards. He has, for instance, the cards of Fred Merkle and Hal Chase.
Merkle (famous for "Merkles Boner" where Merkle, a 19-year-old first baseman for the NY Giants, failed to touch second base in a key, end-of-season game against the Cubs. Had he touched second after what seemed to be a game-winning hit, the Giants would have had a near lock for the 1908 series. But baseball ruled the game had to be replayed, the Giants lost, sending the Cubs to the series. You can look it up, but mostly for that mistake, the card is valuable today. But why is that a valuable story in our dugout? Think about it: who doesn't make a boner sometimes in his ball-playing days? How to live with it is the issue. Look up Bill Buckner. Errors that break your heart, even if you're rooting for the other team. )
Scott also said, he's got Hal Chase who was a fabulous first baseman (1905-1919) for the New York Highlanders (the pre-Yankees team), the Cincinnati Reds and the Buffalo Blues. (So, you see why Hal got in the dugout with us? He played for both the Blues and the Reds!)
Chase (who was nicknamed Prince Hal was dogged by unproven charges of gambling and drinking, but the charges probably came from American League owners, whom Chase sued in 1914 when he argued in court that baseball was an illegal monopoly and prevented players from being free agents. It was the same argument that St. Louis All-Star centerfielder Curt Flood would make in 1970. Both men won their cases in court and were blacklisted for it - Chase by the American League owners and Flood by every owner. Still, their fights ultimately led in various ways for creationg of the players union, established in 1970, followed in 1975 by an arbitrators ruling that said after one year of play, major league players can be free agents. Both Flood and Chase are gone, and never got any money for the victories, but their force lives on with impressive paychecks every year for about 700 big leaguers. So it was cool having Prince Hal there, in our dugout, and by memory, Curt Flood. Scott, with stories of his cards, brought them in.
So, too, Babe Ruth. He was there. In the form of Jim Jasiewicz, aka, Jazz. Jazz is a fine hitter, and a very speedy runner, whom I've seen hit triples to the wall. But he told me he has never knocked one over the wall, and that, of course, was the Babe's forte, 714 dingers. So, even though Jazz is not hit a homer dinger doer, and even though he's not Ruthian in size ( Babe was a good-sized guy, 6-2, 215 pounds, whereas Jim is more the Beep-Beep Roadrunner size) Jazz wears number three. Why? I asked. "Because it was my Little League number, when I started playing the game, and I like being reminded of those days," he said, "and because, yes, because of the Babe. He changed the game, he was so good for it, lively, entertaining. What's not to like?"
So think about it, in their ways, Scott and Jim bring with cards and a number talk about players past, which is the same as bringing them into the dugout, however dead they may be.
So, even though it was raining and we got really soaked we played on in part because some of us got a lift, cheers even, with memories of Fred Merkle, Hal Chase, Curt Flood and the Babe.
Thats a fair trade off.
-Mike Hart
-- Edited by mikehart on Saturday 13th of June 2026 05:49:59 PM
-- Edited by mikehart on Saturday 13th of June 2026 05:50:47 PM
-- Edited by mikehart on Saturday 13th of June 2026 05:52:55 PM
