The Baseball Gods must like me after all. I was taking a tour of the bowels of Citi Field, me and a couple of other writers and fans. including Manny S. of Twitter fame and my friend, Benjamin Hey. The three of us wandered off after spending too much time at an empty batting cage, hearing the season ticket pitch one too many times.
There was an unmarked door at the end of the hallway and the door was slightly ajar. Manny looked at me, and I nodded. Ben led the way to the mysterious door. Here’s where the real story must be.
It was the room with the humidor. Or to be more accurate, the room that is the humidor. There were 256 boxes of baseballs on shelves on both sides of the room. It’s a good thing we found the door open, because there’s big sign that says “Keep Door Closed at all Times.” Was this carelessness or scandal?
“Hey, shut the door, will you?”
“Who said that?” I asked my friends.
“It’s the baseball.”
“Wait, what? First of all, there are at least 3,000 baseballs in here. And secondly, baseballs can’t talk,” I said to one of the walls of balls.
“Well, we can talk, and when we feel like it, we do talk. We usually don’t, but that is neither here nor there.”
“Okay, so assume we believe that’s true, are you one baseball or all the baseballs in here?” Manny asked.
“I am one baseball talking to you, but each of us has what you would call a collective unconscious, or maybe a collective conscious, from all the baseballs that have ever existed. We are even distantly related to all other spheres, such as globes and even planets. We have heard some wild stories, let me tell you.”
“Why are you talking to us?” Ben asked.
“Because someone needs to get our opinion on baseball, and Jude is just crazy enough to write about us.”
“Gee, thanks, but I am honored to get this rare opportunity,” I said.
“So, do you have any questions?” the baseball asked us.
Ben: What did you think of the home run chase between Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa?
Baseball: Ouch! That era was especially painful for us, but fun, too. We tried to go as far as we could for those two, to make history.
Manny: Was Babe Ruth really the “Sultan of Swat” or just an “Emir of Swat?”
Baseball: He was, indeed, The “Sultan of Swat.” No doubt about it. And he not only called that shot, but he told the ball what he was going to do. We will always remember that.
Manny: Which player did you enjoy hitting you the most and which pitcher did you enjoy pitching you the most?
Baseball: The hitter had to be Josh Gibson. We dig the long ball as much as anyone. That man had some clout. And he always talked to us when he was catching, to make sure we behaved. Pitchers, it’s a tie between Tom Seaver and Satchel Paige. Although Christy Mathewson was fun, too. His Fadeaway pitch make us dizzy. And he was very polite to us, no matter what the score was.
Manny: How much different do you perceive the game of baseball today compared to 50 years ago?
Baseball: 1973 was a great time. Even we got excited when Tug McGraw yelled “Ya Gotta Believe!” The biggest difference is how incredibly talented today’s pitchers are. Velocity and movement is so much better. Command, not so much. Nobody, including us, knows where we’re headed when the pitcher lets go of us. One thing I don’t like is the decrease in African-American players. The game has been a little more sterile, although the Latin players are spicing it up more. We baseballs are in the Let the Kids Play camp. Much more fun for us.
Jude: How do you like the humidors?
Baseball: A little cold. Sometimes we freeze our you-know-whats off. And when we get bored, we pretend to be cigars.
Jude: How do you do that?
Baseball: Ah, I can’t say. It’s a trade secret from Cuba.
Jude: Do you know the Baseball Gods?
Baseball: Of course. They sometimes tell us what to do.
Jude: They do?
Baseball: Of course. That’s how baseball works. Sorry, but I can’t say anymore. We are sworn to secrecy. There’s a sacred tradition to uphold.
Jude: How do you feel when an announcer says, “She is gone!”
Baseball: Embarrassed for that announcer. We are not female. We are not male. We are baseballs. And don’t get me started on Mr. and Mrs. Met! Is this the 1950s?
Manny: Are you and Rob Manfred good friends or just polite acquaintances?
Baseball: Let’s just say it’s a good thing I haven’t talked to anyone except you and Mark Fidrych.
Manny: Have you truly changed your wardrobe over the years, making you less likely to leave ballparks in some years and more likely to leave ballparks in other years, like 2019?
Baseball: Wardrobe, innards: we have been tinkered with, poked, prodded, stuffed, and compressed at least since the beginning of baseball, and even before that, in the game of Townball and Base Ball in England, two of the many antecedents of the “American” game of baseball. Lately, it has just been more scientific. Instead of mature Costa Rican ladies, like my friend, Rita, most of the deep work is done by robots, who really don’t give a rat’s buttocks about baseball. Just to meet their quota. I can tell you for sure that in 2019, there was some serious manipulation going on, in a cloak of secrecy. We check in on the new balls pretty regularly, and they are as confused as anyone.
Jude: What do think of the new pitch clock in MLB?
Baseball: Fine with us. We like to move around, not sit in a sweaty hand. We love the action. My personal favorite thing is a 4-6-3 double play. Remember: A resting ball gathers no outs.
Jude: Speaking of pitchers’ hands, how do you feel about the crackdown on sticky stuff?
Baseball: OMG! I’m so glad you asked that. I was thinking of bringing it up myself. That Spider Tack stuff scared the cork out of us. Every pitch felt like it could be our last. I swear, one time, my life flashed before my eyes. Part of my outsides actually tore off. The catcher quickly tossed me into his dugout before the umpire could inspect it. We kept hoping some pitcher would try to release the ball and it wouldn’t leave his hand. Talk about getting caught red-handed!
Just then, the Mets ticket salesperson opened the door and said, “What are you three doing in here?”
“Oh, just looking around,” Ben said.
“Please come with me,” the salesperson said gruffly.
So that’s how our interview ended. Maybe I am just the one to write this. Thanks for Manny for the questions and Ben for the title.
