Foul Ball Read online

  He closed with “Thank you for your support.”

  That sounds like Andy Mick thanking us for our support.

  Meanwhile, the Berkshire Eagle continued to promulgate its own sad view of the world. Today’s editorial—THROWING OUT THE LAST PITCH—is also misleading:

  Opening day today in Pittsfield… is a melancholy one, as it heralds the all but certain end to Pittsfield’s long and proud connection with minor league baseball…

  A proposal to put a Northern League team in [Wahconah Park] has been floated… and should the city embrace this idea it would once again be selling itself short….

  In short, the park’s advocates have no plan for it.

  No plan? What about Plan B? The plan for which the mayor has asked for a timetable. The plan Andy Mick said he’d pass along to Dean Singleton for his consideration.

  That plan.

  So here we have Plan B, which the Eagle suppressed before the June 5 referendum, “so as not to confuse the voters,” still being suppressed after it’s been made public.

  When is a plan a plan? When the Berkshire Eagle has printed it, and not before.

  And that’s not all.

  Even our visit to Media Day did not pass without comment. David Scribner added this jab to his weekly column:

  Fresh from a two-hour meeting with Mayor Doyle, former Yankee pitcher Jim Bouton… crashed the Pittsfield Astros media showcase at Wahconah Park yesterday and strutted about as if he owned the joint. Maybe he thinks he does. What did the Mayor promise him?

  What’s with the hostility? Chip and I didn’t lose the Civic Authority vote. We’re just a couple of businessmen looking to invest private money in a city-owned facility. Why aren’t we welcomed with open arms?

  More important is the question of what constitutes a fair response by the city’s only daily newspaper to a well-intended proposal. A proposal that has yet to be reviewed by interested parties like the Chamber of Commerce, the Rotary Club, or the local Tourism Board, not to mention city officials. You would think that the Berkshire Eagle—with a financial stake in the outcome of a new stadium versus Wahconah Park—would bend over backward to at least give the appearance of fairness.

  But you would be wrong.

  “It’s like having Pravda against you in Russia,” said Chip.

  “And we don’t have Radio Free Europe,” I said, “with WAMC doing a hands-off at this point. What we need is our own web site.”

  “Samizdat!” said Chip. “That’s Russian for self-publish. That’s what the Russian people had to do.”

  Starting tomorrow, like freedom-loving Russians, we’re going on the Internet with Plan B, as outlined in our open letter to Berkshire Sports & Events and the City Council.

  Fuckyouski!

  CHAPTER 2

  “A good plan without money is

  better than a bad plan with money”

  JUNE 20

  WEDNESDAY

  Before flying to Chicago to give a motivational talk, I called Chip from the airport. He told me that the Parks Commission was meeting next Monday night and that we should both be there. I agreed. Chip said he’s also going to try to speak with each of the City Council members before then. He figures if he can convince the councilors, the parks commissioners may follow along.

  So far, he’s not off to the best start. Today he spoke with Tom Hickey, who’s president of the City Council, and James Massery.

  “Hickey said he still hasn’t seen our open letter,” said Chip, “even though we sent it ten days ago. And when I tried to explain our plan to him he said, ‘It’s going to cost you too much money, and you don’t know what you’re getting into.’”

  “It’s true we don’t know what we’re getting into,” I said. “But whatever it is, we’ll probably have to wipe it off our shoes.”

  “And Massery said he hadn’t seen our letter either,” said Chip.

  “I wonder if the councilors’ mail is being screened by the mayor?” I said.

  “You mean Tony?” said Chip.

  We both laughed at this reference to Tony Soprano.

  “What did Massery have to say?” I asked.

  “He blames Dan Bianchi for the defeat of the Civic Authority,” said Chip. “He said Bianchi is ‘the brains behind the other two’—meaning Guzzo and Scapin.”

  Then Massery revealed something interesting about the relationship between BS&E and the city councilors.

  Chip said Massery told him, “I can’t just walk away from this—unless Andy Mick releases us.”

  “Releases us?” I said.

  “It looks like the city councilors are waiting for instructions from Andy Mick,” said Chip.

  “And Andy Mick is waiting for instructions from Dean Singleton,” I said. “Mr. Big behind the curtain.”

  “It’s like a political convention,” said Chip, “where delegates will be loyal to their favorite son until he releases them.”

  “Except in this case,” I said, “the favorite son is beholden to a power broker from a different state.”

  Then Massery brought things back to the local level.

  “I’ve got some scores to settle,” he told Chip.

  “I guess that’s what passes for democracy in Pittsfield,” I said.

  JUNE 21

  THURSDAY—CHICAGO, IL

  “There’s got to be money involved,” said Paula, speculating on the motives of our opponents. “Big money.”

  I had called home to get an update on Wahconah Park.

  “It’s not just a lack of vision,” said Paula, who by now is a little deeper into Wahconah Park than she’d like to be. “There’s more to it than that. You can tell from their anger.”

  We speculated on what it might be. Real estate is the most obvious. It’s a pretty good bet that the value of the Eagle’s headquarters property would increase by an amount exceeding the $2 million they claim the donated parcel is worth. Plus they’d probably get naming rights—Eagle Stadium—which by itself is worth more than $2 million. Chip had said Berkshire Bank would make money on the bonds and construction loans. And Cain Hibbard Myers & Cook would clean up on the legal fees. Those are the big fish.

  Then there are the pilot fish that swim nearby and pick the shark’s teeth. Like Robert Smith, the parks commissioner and drinking buddy of the mayor, who owns a bar called the Brewery across the street from the new stadium site. It turns out Smith also owns the North End restaurant where the BS&E guys were so warmly greeted. Smitty, as he’s known around town, might be a tough vote for us to get.

  Ego is another possibility. Eric Lincoln had said that Dean Singleton once tried to buy the Oakland Athletics. He was also unsuccessful in his bid for naming rights to the Denver Broncos’ new stadium, which is now called Invesco Field at Mile High. Would “Singleton Field” in Pittsfield be enough for such a guy? Not likely.

  “I keep wondering what General Electric gets out of all this,” said Paula.

  “It would give Jay Pomeroy something to do,” I said. “Get him out of the office.”

  “I still think it’s money,” said Paula.

  “Couldn’t be that much money,” I said. “The entire downtown of Pittsfield isn’t worth more than a few million dollars.”

  There was a long pause on the phone. And then it came to me, like a bolt of garbage. It is about real estate—not its potential for increased value but rather its potential for unlimited liability!

  “I know what it might be,” I said, the light bulb blinking furiously above my head.

  “Money,” said Paula.

  “How about tens of millions,” I said. “Maybe even hundreds of millions.”

  “Now you’re talking.”

  “What if the new stadium site is a toxic waste dump?” I said. “Center field would make a very good Band-Aid. A Band-Aid over a tumor.”

  “Omigod,” said Paula, “that makes sense. And it could very well explain why GE is involved.”

  “Maybe that’s why they didn’t like our arena idea,
which would require going deep into the ground for a foundation,” I said. “Whereas a stadium would sit on top of the problem and not expose it. Maybe that’s why they didn’t build a mall there, even though the people had voted for it.”

  “If that’s what it is,” said Paula, “you and Chip don’t stand a chance. And now I’m really worried because with that kind of money involved, those guys could get seriously nasty.”

  “All the more reason to keep going,” I said. “If what we’re thinking is true, people should know about it.”

  “I feel like I’m in the middle of a movie,” said Paula. “What’s the name of that…?”

  “Erin Brockovich.”

  “Right,” said Paula. “And the tobacco one with Russell Crowe.”

  “The Insider.”

  “Right. And they did everything they could to ruin those people,” she said. “It’s not like going up against the baseball establishment.”

  Paula still remembers the fallout from Ball Four, even though I met her seven years after the book came out.

  “If I write a book,” I said, “maybe Jack Welch would try to ban it. He could take on the role of Bowie Kuhn.”

  “Don’t be funny,” said Paula. “You know what I mean.”

  “I’d better have you start the car in the morning,” I said.

  “Uh-huh,” said Paula. “Fly home safely, Babe.”

  JUNE 22

  FRIDAY

  Chip spoke on the phone today with Miles Wolff, the commissioner of the Northern League. Miles lives in Quebec City during the baseball season, where he owns one of the teams in his league. Chip told Miles about our plans for Wahconah Park and our interest in possibly buying a franchise. Miles said he knew about me, and that he and Eric Margenau went way back as fellow baseball entrepreneurs.

  Chip asked him about the cost of a team. Miles said that the floor is set by a new franchise price of $500,000, but that they won’t sell a new franchise until their dormant franchises are placed. He said they currently have three dormant franchises: one owned by Jonathan Fleisig that has been inactive for two years, another owned by Bob Wirz that has been inactive for one year, and one owned by Van Schley that will probably move to a new stadium in Brockton, Massachusetts, next year. A fourth team that’s been struggling might also be available.

  Miles also advised Chip that independent league teams have to pay 100% of their expenses—umpires, travel, player salaries, uniforms, equipment, et cetera—and are more expensive to run than affiliated league teams whose expenses are mostly paid by major league baseball.

  This matches what Eric Margenau had told us. Right now, it looks like we’ll need about $1.5 million: $500,000 to purchase a franchise, $500,000 of operating expenses before any money comes in, $250,000 for immediate upgrades to Wahconah Park, and another $250,000 in reserve.

  Back in January, Chip constructed a financial model that allowed us to play “what if” games with independent variables such as attendance, fan revenue, number of games, and so on. Then he created spreadsheets that showed cash flows and return on investment over five, ten, and twenty years.

  Eric had said it costs about $1 million per year to run an independent league baseball team. Based on that, Chip’s numbers showed that we could “break even” with an average attendance of 2,500 per game as follows: 2,500 fans per game × $10 revenue per fan ($5 ticket + $5 for souvenirs and food) = $25,000 revenue per game × 40 home games = $1,000,000.

  Improvements to Wahconah Park and dividends to stockholders could raise the required attendance to 3,000 fans per game. This would seem to be quite a challenge, given that the Pittsfield Mets averaged 2,000 fans per game in recent years. But the potential is there, with current seating for 4,000 and room to add another 1,000 seats. And if we could increase the attendance to 3,500 per game, we’d make a nice profit.

  Our plan to increase attendance, which we had detailed in our Plan B, revolves around improving the fan experience at the games and marketing Wahconah Park—locally and nationally—as a historic landmark.

  But first we have to get a lease on that historic landmark.

  JUNE 23

  SATURDAY

  This morning I went down to pick up the newspaper at the Old Country Store in the bustling metropolis of North Egremont. The entire downtown consists of four corners that feature, in addition to the store, a restaurant, a B&B, and a barn. A cast of characters wearing camouflage hunting gear, or baseball caps with tractor company logos on the front, is always on hand to sip coffee, buy worms, check lottery tickets, and offer commentaries on the news of the day.

  After eight years of my living here, the guys at the store have finally come to understand that I do not have any inside information about why the Red Sox can’t seem to win when it counts. Because of my ignorance about these and other important matters, I have been properly downgraded from “Yankee big shot” to “the guy who lives on the hill”—or Bouton Mountain as they call it.

  Sometimes, on my way to pick up the paper in the winter, I’ll stop by Prospect Lake where some of these same guys are ice fishing—or rather drinking beer and eating venison sausage grilled over a log fire. I like to go out on the ice and see if they caught anything. The sausage tastes great. Maybe we should sell it at Wahconah Park.

  “I see you’re in the paper again,” said Craig Elliot, owner of the store and the unofficial mayor of North Egremont.

  Craig was referring to my opinion piece in the Record, which hit the stands today. I wrote that Wahconah Park was “our own Field of Dreams right here in the Berkshires,” and that it needed nothing more than “loving improvements, phased in over a period of years.” Most important, I said we needed an answer from the city “as soon as possible, in order to be ready for the 2002 season.”

  “Better be careful up there in Pittsfield,” said Craig.

  It’s a warning I get a lot these days.

  I picked up the mail from our post office box in the back of the store, paid for my New York Times, the Record, and of course the Eagle—so I could see what our opponents had to say today—and headed back up the hill.

  JUNE 24

  SUNDAY

  Eric Lincoln called this afternoon. He likes to keep us up to date with what’s happening behind the scenes. Today’s subject was the City Council, as Chip and I will be going to the next meeting on Tuesday night.

  “Every one of them has been ‘touched’ on this new stadium issue,” said Eric.

  “Touched?”

  “You know,” said Eric. “Bribed. Offered a payoff.”

  “How do you know that?” I asked.

  “Dan Bianchi,” said Eric. “He told me how it’s done.”

  Then he reported a conversation he’d had with Bianchi, who, in addition to his work as a city councilor, happens to own an energy consulting company.

  “Bianchi said he got a phone call one day from Dean Singleton out in Denver. Singleton told him he was involved with the California energy crisis and that they might need a consultant. He asked Bianchi if he wanted ‘to come out and chat.’ Singleton offered to send the company plane. Bianchi said he knew exactly what it meant.”

  “What about the other councilors?” I asked.

  “Bianchi said they’ve all been approached, or are in somebody’s pocket. He said it’s a sad story.”

  I asked Eric what he thought the payoffs were to the others.

  “I don’t know about Pittsfield,” said Eric, “but in Lowell, Massachusetts, the mayor and the councilmen got free luxury boxes, and their kids got jobs at the stadium.”

  Lowell?

  “They had the same situation there,” said Eric. “With the Lowell Sun backing a new stadium built by the taxpayers.”

  “Who owns the Lowell Sun?” I asked.

  “Dean Singleton,” said Eric.

  Eric would make a great spy, except he’s not so easy to hide.

  JUNE 25

  MONDAY

  Got a call this morning from Peter Arlos, who is th
e county treasurer and a former Pittsfield city councilor. The seventy-five-year-old Arlos, who is also known as the Aging Greek God among other nicknames, is a famous local character. What kind of character depends on when you happen to catch him. In a pin-striped suit, the six-foot-three Arlos looks like a state senator; in his sweatpants and bedroom slippers, he looks, as Eric Lincoln says, “like a guy from Bay Ridge going out for the morning paper.”

  Arlos’s favorite mode is that of a tall Columbo in plaid shirt and khakis. “You’ll have to excuse me,” he’ll say, scratching his head and shuffling his papers, “but I’m just a dyslexic guy trying to understand.” This enables him to get away with almost anything. Like the time in 1971 when he petitioned the Pittsfield City Council to demand the removal of troops from Vietnam.

  Born of immigrant parents in Pittsfield, where he played high school baseball and football, The Greek—as he’s called by some, or The Clown as he’s referred to by the Eagle—has been thrilling constituents and annoying the insiders for over forty years. It was Arlos, for example, who arranged for Andrew Zimbalist, the noted sports economist, to come and speak against the new stadium three days before the Civic Authority vote.

  The reason Arlos called today was to give us some advice about the park commissioners’ meeting tonight. Even though we’re not on the agenda, we felt maybe we should at least introduce ourselves to the commissioners, since they’ll be the ones making the decision on Wahconah Park.

  “If you go to that meeting tonight,” said Arlos, “just sit quietly in the back of the room and listen. They don’t like it when people get in their face, if you know what I mean.”

  We promised to sit in the back and behave ourselves.

  Once in Pittsfield, we stopped at the Lantern for burgers—and pea soup because we needed something green—and assessed our situation. Which we think is pretty good, considering that we just started two weeks ago. Except for the Eagle and BS&E—which Eric Lincoln says are one and the same—whoever has seen our plan seems to like it or at least, like the mayor, is willing to listen.