Foul Ball Read online

  CHAPTER 3

  “Salting the earth”

  JULY 1

  SUNDAY

  Chip spoke with Dan Bianchi today. He asked Dan what he thought of our idea to have the City Council vote on recommending our plan to the park commissioners. “Don’t ask for a vote of confidence,” said Dan, “because you won’t get it. There’s still a lot of quiet support here for a new stadium.”

  Chip asked Dan outright if any of the councilors had been bribed. Dan mentioned the phone call from Singleton, when he’d been offered consulting work in the energy field. “It smelled to me,” said Dan. “Clearly meant to be an offer.”

  What about the other councilors? “Soft payoffs,” said Bianchi. “For example, Massery had an old building that was about to be condemned, but the city bailed him out by buying it for top dollar. And Barry, who’s a lawyer, has probably been offered new business. Things like that.”

  They talked about the lack of leadership—councilors who admit they’re waiting for instructions from BS&E, and a mayor who’s on the way out.

  “There’s a power vacuum in Pittsfield,” said Bianchi. “We not only have a lame-duck mayor, but one who’ll be hiding from the attorney general.”

  Chip and I agreed we have to move into that power vacuum. And we have to make our case not just to the people but to the business community—the part not tied to BS&E. There must be some business leaders in town for whom logic still applies. They need to stand up and be counted.

  Maybe we can help them to their feet. Chip and I have been invited to write an opinion piece for the weekly Pittsfield Gazette, and the Rotary Club has invited me to be their luncheon speaker on July 5. Onward we go into the vacuum.

  Or the vacuum cleaner.

  JULY 2

  MONDAY

  The word now comes down that the parks commissioners will not be meeting as scheduled next Monday, on July 9. Not only will we not get a decision, as we had originally hoped, but we won’t even be having the “open discussion in public” that Bob Mellace had said would be required before a lease could be granted. Since the commissioners meet every other Monday, on the night before the City Council meetings, the next meeting won’t be until July 23.

  What does this mean? Well, it’s summertime. Fish are jumping. Maybe they’re taking a vacation.

  Or maybe not.

  According to Paula, “They’re going to do everything in their power to make sure you don’t have a shot at it.”

  At the Old Country Store this morning, I was talking to owner Craig Elliot about Wahconah Park, and a retired doctor who lives in the neighborhood asked what was in it for me.

  “Save an old ballpark, make some money, have fun,” I said.

  “Hey, this is me you’re talking to,” said the doctor, scoffing at my answer. “What’s the real reason?”

  “All right then,” I said. “Same reason I wrote Ball Four: cynicism, blood money, revenge.”

  “And speaking of your book,” said the doctor. “My wife’s best friend named her son Mickey after Mickey Mantle, and when she heard you were going to be our neighbor she thought that was terrible. That you were the worst guy in the world.”

  I looked at Craig. He shrugged sympathetically.

  “It’s a tough crowd,” he said.

  JULY 3

  TUESDAY

  Following Dave Potts’s suggestion, I spoke with environmentalist Tim Gray of the Housatonic River Initiative about my pollution theory: that a new baseball stadium might be used to cover a toxic waste problem on the Eagle property. Unlike a Civic Center or an indoor arena, which would require deep footings and a lot of digging, an above-ground grandstand and a large outfield could mask a multitude of subterranean sins. I asked Tim if he knew about some test borings in 1994 that were never made public.

  “I don’t know anything about them,” he said, “but I can check with the DEP (Department of Environmental Protection) in Springfield, the next time I’m down there.”

  “Do you think the stadium site could be polluted?” I asked.

  “I know there used to be junk yards down there,” said Gray. “Junk and scrap yards were notorious PCB dumps. For decades, General Electric was filling every little hole it could find. And the Eagle might have deposited some nasty chemicals of its own.”

  “How does anyone know who’s responsible?” I said.

  “If it’s PCBs,” said Gray, “GE is responsible. Any new PCBs found in Pittsfield belong to them. They’re already identified as the principal party; it’s their fingerprint. Anything else is the property owner’s responsibility.”

  “If there’s pollution down there,” I said, “how much would it cost to clean it up?”

  “Hard to tell,” said Gray. “It could be in the millions. If they have to remove contaminated soil, the question is, how far down do they go? Twenty feet? Forty feet? Or more. It’s an unknown liability.”

  “Could a baseball field cover that up?” I asked.

  “Probably would,” said Gray. “The EPA likes to cap stuff. Three years ago we got information that when Gerry Doyle, Senior, was the commissioner of public works, the roads had been sprayed with oil to keep the dust down—but it was laden with PCBs. The day after we turned in our report, all of a sudden the roads are being paved. A paved road is considered ‘blessed.’”

  “Who had the roads paved?” I asked.

  “Gerry Doyle, Junior,” said Gray.

  JULY 4

  WEDNESDAY

  What better thing is there to do on our nation’s birthday in Great Barrington, Massachusetts, than pitch batting practice to a sushi chef? Also his kitchen helpers, a carpenter, a lawyer, a bunch of kids, and a college guy who has the ability to turn pro one day.

  The ol’ knuckler was dancing pretty good, too, especially against the carpenter and the lawyer. The kids and the kitchen help got straight stuff. The college guy got the old, beat-up balls so the outfielders wouldn’t have to bother searching for them in the woods. And Shige Tanabe, who was a very good amateur player in Japan, got medium-speed fastballs, which he blasted all over the field. A happy sushi chef is a good sushi chef.

  After about an hour of pitching, with a few towel breaks, I sat down and told Paula the knuckler was really jumping.

  “Oh, is that so?” said Paula with her best mock-adoring look, as she patted the sweat off the tip of my nose. “Tell me how wonderful you were, sweetheart.”

  JULY 5

  THURSDAY

  Chip and I fired back with both barrels today.

  The opinion piece that we wrote for the Pittsfield Gazette—which hit the stands this morning—became the subject of my talk at the Rotary Club lunch this afternoon. I made copies on pink paper—to distinguish it from our other handouts—and put a stack on the table where people checked in.

  About eighty people, an equal mix of men and women, grazed at a buffet and sat down at round tables in a mini-ballroom. I was introduced as “the former Yankee now trying to play ball here in Pittsfield.”

  “We need the business community to help save Wahconah Park,” I said, challenging their presumed support for a new stadium. “You have to change horses and ride fast.”

  I told them about our plan and why we needed a lease as soon as possible. I said the problem was that the mayor and most of the city councilors say they won’t support us until Berkshire Sports & Events folds its tent, and that BS&E says it can’t do anything until it hears from Dean Singleton.

  “Think about it,” I said, pausing for effect. “The heart of your city is in the hands of some guy in Denver.”

  The glasses had stopped clinking by this time.

  “This political game we’re engaged in right now,” I said, “is not a spectator sport. The people have already spoken. Now it’s up to you, the business community, to stand up and be counted.”

  The room got even quieter.

  “How many people here today,” I said, asking for a show of hands, “are in favor of our proposal to keep professional
baseball in Wahconah Park?”

  A roomful of hands went up. I counted them out loud. Seventy-nine. Then I asked who still favored a new stadium. Just one.

  I thanked them for the chance to speak, accepted a Rotary paper weight, and returned to my seat. Someone asked if I knew the guy who had raised his hand for the new stadium. I said I didn’t.

  “Phil Massery,” he said. “James Massery’s brother.”

  JULY 6

  FRIDAY

  Got a call today from David Colby, president of the Pittsfield Chamber of Commerce, whom I had met at the Rotary Club luncheon yesterday. Colby explained that the Chamber had previously endorsed the new-stadium plan, but that he liked what I had to say and wanted to hear more.

  “Could Chip and I speak at your next meeting?” I asked.

  “I don’t want to commit political suicide,” he said. “I’ll have to check with Berkshire Sports & Events. We have some overlapping board members.”

  Raising your hand is one thing. Extending your neck is quite another.

  The Rotary Club response was gratifying but not surprising. I believe we would have gotten the same result from any group—even if our opponents had been given equal time. That’s how much of a no-brainer our plan is. We just need to get our message out.

  This is now a public relations battle. If we can get the people behind us, we can put the councilors and the commissioners on the spot. Make them declare where they stand. Right now—except for councilors Bianchi, Guzzo, and Scapin—they’re all holding back.

  Not one public official, except for Mayor Doyle, has come forward and said, “I still favor a new stadium.” That would be political suicide. Such a losing proposition could be espoused only by a lame-duck mayor, or someone like Scribner who can hide behind his unsigned, no-discussion, no-accountability editorials.

  This allows the new-stadium guys to hide in the grass. “A lot of silent support,” as Dan Bianchi says. We make our case, but our opponents don’t respond.

  “We’re punching, and they’re just leaning back,” said Chip. “It’s the rope-a-dope strategy.”

  JULY 7

  SATURDAY

  Bill Carey, a staff writer for the Eagle, telephoned Chip to ask a few questions and Chip patched me into the conversation. It was quite a long interview. We’ll see what happens with that.

  Tonight I packed for a five-day trip to the West Coast. I have a couple of talks to give, and some book signings, and a meeting with the Seattle Mariners about the possibility of their hosting a Pilots Old Timers’ Day in 2002. The Pilots are the team I wrote about in Ball Four that played only one year in Seattle, 1969, before they were abruptly pulled away—a week before the next season began—and moved to Milwaukee where they were renamed the Brewers. The Pilots have never had an Old Timers’ Day and it would be fun to get everybody together—well, almost everybody—just one last time, for a nice hello and a proper goodbye.

  JULY 8

  SUNDAY

  Well, whadda ya know? The Berkshire Eagle ran a front-page story by Bill Carey. And it was fair!

  Under the headline BALLPARK SUITORS WANT ACTION, Carey made the key points that time was of the essence and that our plan was being delayed by city officials who have told us that they’re waiting to hear from Berkshire Sports & Events. He quoted me saying, “The clock is running out on our proposal,” and Chip saying, “The future of professional baseball in Pittsfield is waiting for a signal from a man in Denver.”

  I wonder how much longer Carey will be working at the Eagle.

  This afternoon I got ready to leave for the airport. I packed my cell phone, my laptop, and my Palm Pilot and confirmed that Chip had my itinerary with the hotel phones and fax numbers. I told him I’d be calling in to get the latest Wahconah update.

  “I’ll just call Chip, to see how you’re doing,” said Paula.

  I gave her a big hug, and told her I’d miss her, too.

  JULY 9

  MONDAY—SEATTLE, WA

  It’s always great to wake up in Seattle. The smell of the ocean. The sounds of the waterfront. The seagulls. It reminds me of that summer with the Pilots, and the boat trips with the kids to Whidbey Island and the Olympic Peninsula. And of course, manager Joe Schultz and the players.

  Now here I am again, thirty-two years later, keeping notes for a different kind of adventure with its own cast of curious characters. One of them is my partner Chip, who called with the latest news.

  “I thanked Bill Carey for his courage in running yesterday’s story,” said Chip. “He said his editor wasn’t very happy with him because he hadn’t run it by Berkshire Sports & Events first.”

  “I guess Eric Lincoln was right when he said Berkshire Sports & Events and the Eagle are one and the same,” I said.

  “Then there was an item in today’s Eagle,” said Chip, “about the closing of the North End Restaurant. It quoted Smitty saying that the closing was ‘voluntary and had nothing to do with taxes.’”

  “Never would have crossed my mind,” I said, laughing.

  “I wonder if the mayor ate and drank him into insolvency,” said Chip. The story also said that Smith had originally purchased the building in 1999 for $230,000—with a mortgage of $260,000 from Berkshire Bank.

  “As a park commissioner,” I said, joking, “maybe Smitty wanted to divest himself of a conflict of interest with the bank.”

  “I doubt it,” said Chip. “The story also said that the Brewery, and Smitty’s food service contract with GE Plastics, remain in place.”

  “GE Plastics?” I said. “Because Jay Pomeroy just luuuves Smitty’s cooking.”

  “I also sent Bob Mellace an email,” said Chip, “suggesting that the July 23 Parks Commission meeting be advertised in advance, and that it be held at a larger venue for the public discussion that he had called for.”

  “I can’t wait for that public discussion,” I said. “We’ll get the same show of hands there that I got at the Rotary luncheon. Times ten.”

  “I also made the case for why we needed a thirty-year lease,” said Chip, “and added a few more details to our plan, like the $25,000 in annual capital improvements and being responsible for all maintenance at Wahconah Park, including major structural repairs.”

  “How much do you think we’re really going to spend in the first year?” I asked.

  “About $250,000.”

  “Then why don’t we say that?”

  “It’s too early,” said Chip. “We’ll save it for later. We don’t want to show all our cards right now.”

  I wished Chip well at the open mike, and we hung up.

  The Wahconah Warriors never rest.

  Tonight I had dinner at Mike Fuller’s house. I had met Mike a few years ago, on his web site—www.seattlepilots.com—which is so comprehensive you can hear the hot water not running in the clubhouse. There’s also a link to a page where fans can vote on whether or not they would attend a Pilots Old Timers’ Day in 2002.

  Joining us at dinner was Charles Kapner, the world’s leading collector of Pilots memorabilia. Charles has a room in his house that’s lined with official Pilots mugs, pennants, bumper stickers, hair bonnets, baby bibs, demitasse spoons, cuff link sets, wind breakers, swizzle sticks, bar coasters, plastic radio baseballs, and a very catchy “Go, Go, You Pilots” 45 rpm record. This is in addition to the usual tickets, posters, and yearbooks. Hell, we had more items than wins! Charles is still looking for an official Pilots usher’s jacket, if anyone happens to come across one.

  Both Mike and Charles are pushing for a Pilots Old Timers’ Day.

  I asked Mike how many “hits” he’s had on his Pilots web site.

  “According to the guy who hosts my site,” said Mike, “it gets more than any other site he has, including the Catholic Archdiocese of Los Angeles.”

  The Seattle Pilots more popular than Jesus?

  JULY 10

  TUESDAY—SEATTLE, WA

  How many guys would rather eat a room service dinner at a hotel in S
eattle than have hot dogs and beer at the All-Star Game at Safeco Field? With a free ticket, no less. Count me in that demented group. And why? Very simple. I was waiting for Chip’s call with an update on tonight’s City Council meeting back in Pittsfield.

  I hated to miss our second council appearance even if it was just three minutes’ worth. The televised open mike is one of the best ways to get our message across. I was imagining Chip at the mike when he called.

  “Are you sitting down?” he asked, with a smile in his voice. Then he read me today’s Eagle editorial.

  Neither Media News Group CEO Dean Singleton nor Berkshire Sports & Events… is impeding proposals to keep baseball at Wahconah Park… as a South County trio has charged… in a blatant attempt to manipulate city councilors with misinformation.

  We laughed at this obvious projection from Scribner, Mr. Misinformation himself.

  “The guy is desperate,” said Chip.

  “That means we’re having an impact,” I said.

  “The best evidence of that,” said Chip, “was the open mike, where three mayoral candidates, Dave Potts, Peter McHugh, and Ed Baptiste, and a city council candidate, Jonathan Lothrop, spoke in favor of our plan for Wahconah Park. And no one spoke against.”

  “There is no better barometer of public sentiment,” I said, “than a candidate running for office.”

  Or not running. Along with the mayor, four of the eight new-stadium councilors have decided not to seek reelection, and the Three Amigos—Bianchi, Guzzo, and Scapin—are running unopposed.

  “The stadium issue has become the third rail of Pittsfield politics,” said Chip.

  “Tell me about your open mike,” I said.