Glen Head Tales
(or 2001 a Strat-O-Matic Odyssey)
by Phil Trygar
Chapter Three, The Villain's Tale (or Mulholland goooooood...McDowell baaaaaaad...)
I have tried hard over the years to curb my tongue when it comes to bad-mouthing a professional athlete. Granted, it's becoming more and more difficult to do nowadays, what with the salaries that some of these guys are making, but I try to hold back as much as possible. Why? Well, the way I look at it, players have not risen to the top of their sport without some good reasons. For the most part, professional sports are not like the corporate world, at least as far as the players are concerned. In that reality, who you know, what you say, how you dress, what you look like, etc, etc, etc, all play a large role in how far you climb up (or fall down) the company ladder. Having played, coached and worked in baseball for the better part of my life, I realize it is a special player, with recognizable skills that even gets drafted, let alone attains a higher career level in professional baseball.
So, even though I may curse a player for kicking an easy ground ball (hey, I'm still a fan), I have a hard time coming out with the blanket statement of "that guy stinks!" He doesn't stink. If he stunk, he wouldn't have made it to that level. Sure, maybe the level of pitching in the majors is not what it was 30 or 40 years ago, but they surely don't stink. I guarantee that the majority of guys out there belittling and cursing professional athletes have had little exposure to playing the sport after Little League other than reliving their childhood thru coaching their kids or bragging about their game winning single in the local beer/softball league.
That being said, what happened in the Red Barons dugout one evening became quite memorable for me. As I said earlier, I worked for 5+ seasons for the Scranton Wilkes-Barre Red Barons. Every few years, the Phillies would come to town to play an exhibition game against the Barons. It was a game that the fans looked forward too quite eagerly, but the players, I believe, would rather have had root canals than play in the game. Their performances usually reflected this. Prior to the game, however, the players were usually quite good about interacting with the fans and the media.
Being part of the staff allowed myself and my fellow PA booth crew members quite a few nice perks. We had access to any part of the park we wanted, at just about any time other than game time. We could take batting practice if the equipment was out and the players weren't using it; we could shag fly balls prior to the game while the team was taking BP (my own personal favorite); we could hang out with the players prior to the game in the locker room or players' lounge; we went out with them for a few brews after the game; the list goes on and on. In a nutshell though, as long as we didn't become pests to them, we could hang with them. A nice arrangement, if you ask me.
The day of the game, Alan May (another Strat-O-Fanatic) and myself spent time on the field meeting some of the Phillies and getting some autographs. Rather than have baseballs or autograph books filled with signatures, we both would get the players to sign their Strat cards. I have an interesting collection of autographed cards from John Martin and Pat Combs to Brady Anderson and Dale Murphy. That season, in one of my leagues I had Terry Mulholland. He was fresh off coming to the Phillies the prior season from the Giants and his first full season with the team produced a no-hitter against, you guessed it, San Francisco on August 15th, 1990.
I handed over the card to Terry and he immediately recognized what it was. "Hey, my Strat card." He said. "Hope it's from a good year." I then began telling him what a nice card he had and talking about his season with the team this year. Over wanders Roger McDowell, who was known in those days as being a tremendous competitor and major league prankster. Even if you didn't like the team he was pitching for, you still had to like Roger Mac. "Hey Mule, is that your Strat card?" he asked, as he came over to where we were sitting in the dugout. I had passed McDowell on my way down the dugout steps, but I hadn't yet asked him for his autograph on a card. "Where's my card? How come you're not asking me to sign mine? What kind of card did I get this year?" Roger questioned.
Well, here's where a little miscommunication, a Freudian slip so to speak, can get someone all in a tizzy. "I didn't bring your card with me." I told him. "You're not on my team this year and your card kinda sucks." That was all I had to say. "Ohhhhh..."he said. "He's good, but I suck. I seeeeeee." Trying to cover my baseball faux paux, I proceeded to try and tell him that HE doesn't suck, just his Strat card did. But Roger wasn't buying it. For the next several minutes, McDowell directed his line of logic at anyone who passed by. "Mo...did you know that Mule there is great,but I suck." He told Mickey Morandini. "I suck, but he's good." He told Alan. "Mule, how did you get so good, while I suck so bad?" he asked Mulholland. Even Jeep Fanucci, one of the team's official scorers was asked as he walked by the dugout on his way down the club house steps. "Did you know that he's great, but I totally suck..." McDowell told Jeep. Jeep just shrugged his shoulders and continued on. I'll bet that made Roger feel even better.
Now, not that I really believe Roger McDowell could give a rat's arse about what I thought about his pitching ability or his Strat card. But it was funny to see in action what I had heard and read about him. That he was a genuinely funny guy, with a great sense of humor. It was also great to know that professional players knew all about Strat-O-Matic Baseball. Showing a Strat card to a ball player usually went a long way when you introduced yourself to them. Too bad that doesn't work in more areas! Maybe single guys can use Strat cards at parties when they're trying to pick up a girl...or maybe you can use them at a job interview, handing them out instead of business cards. What an icebreaker they could be. Naaaaaaaah...............maybe not!
		Click here to here what Homer has to say about it
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