Baseball Diary Vol II #2

April 29, 1983
Los Angeles

Cover by Jagne Parkes

"And hey, barkeep, what's keepin' you, keep pourin' drinks
For all these palookas, hey, you know what I thinks
That we toast to the old days and DiMaggio too
And old Drysdale and Mantle, Whitey Ford and to you."
Tom Waits, "A Sight for Sore Eyes"

"I learned my biggest lesson in managing the first day in Class D. You see these poor kids that shouldn't even be there in the first place. You write on the report card '4-4-4 and out'. That's the lowest rating in everything. Then you call 'em in and say, 'It's the consensus among us that we're going to let you go back home'. Some of 'em cry. Some get mad...(But) if you say it mean enough, maybe they do themselves a favor and don't waste years learning what you can see in a day. They don't have what it takes to make the majors."
Earl Weaver

"Were a man to awaken from sound sleep to the dry-gourd rattle of a diamondback coiled on his chest, head big as a fist, forked tongue flickering, he would to into that dreadful numbness of the ultimate fright."
John D MacDonald

"At Shor's, Joe DiMaggio's friends sat with them and talked about the 1952 pennant races. Marilyn Monroe was bored. She wanted to see the new plays. She wanted to go to the Metropolitan Museum and to visit the hot jazz spots, like Eddie Condon's. Joe didn't care for theatre, music, art. His world was the world of sports, his cronies were sports-loving men like George Solotaire, men who lived in a closed masculine world of gin rummy, sports, betting money talk, inside jokes."
Maurice Zolotow

"This rich verbal tradition - the way the game has taken on the ambiance of the frontier campfire or the farmer's cracker-barrel stove and moved it into the dugout - is what marks baseball so distinctively, not only among our games, but among all our endeavors. Baseball remains, in the best sense, archaic."
Thomas Boswell

"Forward all my mail to the corner of Pork & Beans."
Tom Waits


Report from Oakland
by The Fearless Forecaster

WE'RE NUMBER TWO (IN THE NL WEST): A DODGER FAN HANDBOOK FOR 1983

A few of you may remember the 1982 edition of this handbook, WE'RE NUMBER ONE. I warned you back then that it would be difficult for the Dodgers to repeat in 1982, which turned out to be practically the only prediction I made for that year that was right. The Dodgers begin the 1983 season as the favored team in the NL West, despite a number of question marks about their everyday lineup and their pitching staff. I'm sure that many of you are wondering just how to approach the role of "favorite" with a team that has not proven itself under fire.

1. How do I deal with the collapse at the end of 1982? This, of course, is the first order of business, since the memory of the 8 game losing streak in late September will dog this team throughout 1983. There are two approaches, suggested by the US Government: a) ignore it completely, or b) blame it on the Russians. In other words, if anyone is indelicate enough to ask you, simply pretend that the 1982 season never happened (which is how I deal with 1981 and the subsequent World Series), or admit that it did, and announce that it didn't really count because of KGB interference through their Bulgarian lackeys.

2. What should my early attitude toward this team be? Generally, I would counsel a wait-and-see attitude. Be enthusiastic, because after all you ARE a Dodger fan, but not TOO enthusiastic, because then you leave yourself wide open if Brock is hitting .182 at the end of May and Pedro sets a major league record for most errors by a third baseman after his first 50 games. I should mention here that Garvey and Cey, however much you liked them as Dodgers, are now the ENEMY and should be treated accordingly. I know this might be difficult right at first, but just remember that they both have something to prove to your organization, and they sure as heck will do everything they can to beat you. Just start out slow, and before long, I'm sure you'll hate them as much as Charlie Hustle or the Giants.

3. Some of you may find wait-and-see to be too wishy-washy. I understand. In this case, you'll have to take the opposite approach, which might be characterized as I'll-kill-you-if-you-say-that-about-my-team-again. Here the emphasis is on rabidness bordering on a kind of religious insanity. Heaven knows, we have numerous examples of this approach in the world today, so it shouldn't be too hard to find appropriate role models. One caution though: I tried this one back in 1976 when the Yanks won their first pennant in 12 years and then got swept by the Reds in the Series, and I'm still carrying the scars. This approach is recommended only for emotionally stable individuals, which leaves out practically everybody I know.

4. What, then, should my attitude be down the stretch? You've probably already guessed the answer: it depends. If the Dodgers are winning, and are in first or close to first, then you are duty-bound to abandon wait-and-see and commit yourself to open rooting (if you've been using I'll-kill-you all along, then there is no change in your attitude; perhaps your eyes can get more glassy and your nostrils flare wider.) I really don't think the Dodgers will be losing, but if they are, be prepared to shift into the it's-only-a-game attitude that I perfected last year. Put away all the baseball mags, stop wearing your Dodger hat, and stop reading the sports section of the TIMES. It's best not to show too much pain, because after all, it's only a game. Right?

I'll check back in with BD later in the year to fine tune these attitudes. Every baseball season has many surprises, so who knows, maybe the Dodgers will clinch the division before the All-Star break. It might be fun to dust off the holier-than-thou attitude that I used to drive people crazy with in the late 50's and early 60's. And if the Dodgers are in last place at mid-season, we can go with the attitude I developed in 1966, the what's-baseball? attitude.


The Baseball Incident
by The Editor

(Photos by Donna Copeland-Fuller)

On April 8, 1983, Opening Day at Chavez Ravine, Dennis McCarthy, a reporter for the Los Angeles Daily News, interviewed various members of the Baseball Diary staff on assignment at the game. His article appeared in the newspaper the following day and a portion of it read:

SEASON OPENS WITH LOSS: 45,000 WELCOME '83 DODGERS
The home opener is the fans' spring training - a major celebration of the kind a James G Watt might very well frown upon, wondering if indeed baseball is undermining the work ethic in this country. How did 45,000 people get the afternoon off anyway? "It's easy, I came with my boss," said Donna Copeland-Fuller, a secretary for an executive with the state Public Utilities Commission, Pomona Division. Jack Hastings, who lives in the Wilshire District, has not missed a home opener in seven years. "I work for the state, but it doesn't matter if they know I'm here because I'm getting laid off in July anyway," he said.

The following Monday, an employee with the Public Utilities Commission, after seeing the article that weekend, filed a grievance with the PUC Commissioners in San Francisco. The employee was shocked ot learn that state workers would spend part of a workday at a baseball game. Upon learning of the complaint, BD sent an investigative reporter to the North Bay to find out the repercussions, if any. Our man discovered the following confidential memorandum:

MEMO FROM: ***
DATED: APRIL 15 1983
TO: President, Commissioners, and Executive Director, PUC
SUBJECT MATTER: April 11, 1983 memo of *** "Wasted Tax Dollars Within the PUC"

On April 11, 1983, ***, an employee of the Los Angeles office, wrote to you to express his views on employees work day activity in Los Angeles. He perceives that a certain indolence amongst the rank and file as well as the supervisors. His ire was precipitated by a quote in the April 9 edition of the Daily News attributed to PUC employees and (two employees) who attended the Opening Day Dodger Game. The Executive Director requested I investigate the baseball incident, submit a plan to correct the office problems alleged in the memo, and report my findings and recommendations to you. The two employees at the game were on approved vacation periods. While it is indeed regrettable that two of our vacationing employees were singled out of a crowd of 45,000, there is little of anything we can do other than to request our people emphasize they are on vacation should a similar incident occur. To correct the alleged personnel problems noted in the memo, we have formed a Los Angeles Advisory Committee consisting of a section head from transportation, revenue requirements, utilities, communications and myself. The committee will meet the 4th Thursday of each month to review2 current procedures, disciplinary action, work productivity, etc. The committee will serve in an advisory capacity to *** recommending actions which will emphasize the productivity and morale of staff. It will deal specifically with the problems noted in the April 11 memo to the Commission.


Letters

Dear BD:
Congrats on a spectacular return to the world of publishing. Loved the issue from cover to cover. Answer to KKKwiz:
a) William Reich; b) The Adele Davis League
A. Loyal Reader
Los Angeles

Dear ALR:
It's nice to have you back, A. Of course, your answers are wrong. Ah, well, at least you didn't bring up cootie holes.


Dear Ed:
Thank God (if there is one) that Baseball Diary is back! It is, in my opinion, the finest publication of its type on the West Coast, possibly the entire country and, who knows, maybe the world and even the universe. But hey, man, Chicago for 2nd place in the NL East? I'd like to hear the rationale behind THAT pick, believe me. They've got some decent players, but really, get out your STREET AND SMITH'S and check out the pitching. Now, want to change your mind? That photo essay by Mr. Hastings was first-rate, if not inspired. I mean, who else could inject such significance into a light standard and an empty parking lot? Wow, more, please.

Here are my answers to the KKKwiz:

Mordecai Peter Centennial "Three Finger" Brown was one of the best pitchers in the NL during the early years of this century. He came up to St. Louis in 1903 as a 26-year-old rookie and was traded the next year to Chicago. Between 1906 and 1911 he won more than 20 games each year for the Cubs, with a high of 29 in 1908. In 1914, he was signed to manage the St. Louis entry in the new Federal League (more about this league later); unfortunately, he was a better pitcher than manager: his team went 50-63, and Brown was canned before the end of the season and sent to Brooklyn. In 1915, he pitched for the Chicago team of the FL (nicknamed the "Whales") and won 17 games (and batted .293). He returned to the Cubs in 1916 (he went 2-3 with a 3.94 ERA), but dropped out of the majors the next year. My reference sources vary somewhat on his lifetime stats. The Sporting News has him 239-130, including the two years in the FL. Brown was elected to the Hall in 1949, the year after he died. In case anybody is wondering: Brown lost half of the index finger on his right hand in a childhood accident. I have not been able to ascertain the exact nature of this accident (lawnmower? butcher knife? hungry tiger?), but one of my sources says that his disability allowed him to throw a number of "unorthodox pitches". I suppose that, technically, his nickname should have been "Three and a Half Finger".

The Federal League operated for two years, 1914-15, with eight franchises: Baltimore, Brooklyn Buffalo, Chicago, Indianapolis (shifted to Newark in 1915), Pittsburgh, Kansas City, and St. Louis. It was, at best, a second-rate little league, sort of the USFL of its time. I won't bore you with a lot of useless stats on this league. What I would really like to know is: who in the heck nicknamed the Chicago team the "Whales"? I mean, we can all understand Tigers and Pirates and Indians - but Whales? I can just see the team logo - Captain Ahab holding a bat riding on Moby Dick's back. Anyway, the park built for the Whales way back then is today Wrigley Field.
Richard Rosen
Oakland


Inside Chavez Ravine: A Photo Essay
by Jack Hastings

For a few hours each day, a few days each week, a small city grows within the caverns and passages of the stadium. It is temporary yet it contains all the elements of a basic urban geometry. It has its residences and its residents, its government and police, its trade and commerce and even a kind of art.

The endless concrete galleries are like a science fiction writer's fantasy of life after the bomb, a microcosmic parody of urban culture held within a vast time capsule waiting to be opened by some insectoid heir to the ravaged earth, a curious artifact of their unlamented predecessors.