Beaned in Bowie and other ballpark bits

Regular readers of my column over the years know that I love baseball. Our national pastime has been one of my faves since childhood. I liked playing baseball, watching or listening to it, coaching it and umpiring it. I have attended countless games at all levels from Little League to the major leagues.

Most of the time I just attended the game, savored a couple ballpark franks with mustard, enjoyed the action and went home satisfied. But not always. Let me share with you some unusual events I’ve endured at the ballpark. 

In 1980, one of my friends and I attended a game at old Comiskey Park on the southside of Chicago. We sat in the first row of the upper deck directly opposite first base. In the fifth inning, a batter lifted a pop foul and I, the old Almont High second baseman, knew it was coming right to me. 

Sure enough. I had no baseball glove with me so I reached out with both bare hands intending to make a Willie Mays’ type basket catch.      Nobody interfered with me as the ball hit my palms dead center.  But before I could squeeze the souvenir snuggly and proudly wave it to the crowd, the ball, spinning like a supercharged top, spun itself out of my grasp and dropped on to the TV camera stand below our seats.

In baseball scoring terms it was an E-4, error on the second baseman. 

I was roundly, loudly (and justifiably) booed by 14,000 fans. A chance at stardom, probably caught on TV, dashed. I sat down humiliated. 

My friend said nothing. He let me sulk and absorb the pain. A pain I still feel more than four decades later.

However, not long after, I was able to redeem myself somewhat. During batting practice at Wrigley Field in north Chicago, I snagged a ball off the bat of a New York Mets player.

I was smart enough not to try to grab it in flight but wait ‘til it bounced off of some other hands and landed at my feet. I also got one later at Robert F. Kennedy Stadium in Washington, D.C. hit by Kirk Gibson during a Tigers exhibition game. 

I got another ball in 1998…the hard way. On our second date, Sue and I went to a Bowie (now Chesapeake) Baysox game in Bowie, Maryland.

Great seats in the second row next to the home dugout. A left-handed hitter checked his swing and launched a line drive foul…right at my head.

I was able to put my hands up and duck a little but the ball hit me and took a divot of hair and scalp with it 20 rows back. I fell out of my seat. They stopped the game and the manager came into the stands to see if I was OK. I asked him for a game ball which he happily furnished. The stadium medical team cleared me to return.   

In 1984, at the American League Championship game at Tiger Stadium, joyful victorious Tigers fans ripped up chunks of turf and tossed them into the stands. I caught one, took it home and planted it in my yard where it continued to flourish. 

Sue likes baseball so we have been to many games together over the years. (Guys, if your girlfriend likes sports, marry her!)

I took her to old Tiger Stadium where she and one of the ushers proudly sang the Polish national anthem on Polish American Night.   

Once, we saw an afternoon Tigers game at Comerica Park, then drove to Cleveland where the Indians (now Guardians) were playing.  It was our first day-night double header in different cities.

The next day, on our way back to Virginia, we stopped in Pittsburgh and saw the Pirates play at old Three Rivers Stadium. 

No matter what, it’s always fun at the ballpark. Well, maybe except for getting beaned. But they’ve put up nets now to protect you.  Play ball! 

Contact Rick at dave@tri-citytimes.com