Summer would not be complete without our annual trip to take in minor league baseball games.  In a tradition begun many years ago we set off, once again, to visit ballparks where we knew we could purchase seats and hot dogs for the two of us for less than it would cost to park at a major league stadium.  And, as usual, a good time was had by all.

In Oklahoma City, for example, we got a glimpse of what the future of umpiring might look like in the big leagues and, frankly, we liked it.  Major League Baseball is experimenting at the AAA level with an “automated balls and strikes” (ABS) system, which allows a batter to challenge an umpire’s strike call, and the catcher a ball.  Each team gets three challenges, but if the umpire is shown to be correct, the team loses that challenge for the rest of the game.  

Notably, each time a challenge was made in the game we attended, the video board in left center field showed the location of the pitch as determined by the electronic device and, in every case, the umpire’s call was correct.  Coupled with the “pitch clock” already in effect, this new wrinkle shows promise of making the game move even more quickly and smoothly.

While the ABS system showed us the future of officiating in baseball, the Arkansas Travelers game in Little Rock presented us with a trip down memory lane … a ballpark organ!  Listening to the beautiful strains of that instrument, I was reminded of a Florida State League game in 1985, in which the organist – Wilbur Snapp – was thrown out for playing the song “Three Blind Mice” after an umpire’s call.  

Between innings in Little Rock, I asked the organist if he knew of that event and the name of the fellow ejected.  He could not recall Snapp’s name, but he knew of the ejection … he even showed me the playlist for that evening’s game with the following warning written in large letters: DO NOT PLAY THREE BLIND MICE.

As an aside, a different ballpark organist was ejected from a game in 2012 for playing that same song, proving that George Santayana was correct in noting: “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”

Growing up, I played a lot of baseball and, being a catcher, I closely followed the careers of major leaguers who excelled at that position.  One player I idolized was Smoky Burgess, who played for 18 years in the majors for several different teams.  Toward the end, Burgess was used exclusively as a pinch hitter, holding several records for excellence in that role … he would wander up to the plate, stroke a base hit, and then retire to the dugout after being replaced by a pinch runner.

With Burgess as my role model, I sometimes fantasize that I can still play the game but, unfortunately, I have yet to find a team looking for a “designated senior citizen.”  Until I find one, I will continue to be uplifted by John Fogarty’s quintessential baseball anthem “Center Field,” and those inspiring lyrics:

Put me in coach … I’m ready to play!