by Zack Hample
GROUND BALLS
There’s no such thing as fan interference during batting practice. You won’t get in trouble (like you would during a game) for reaching out of the stands and catching a ball, so don’t hold back. Three of the four oldest major league stadiums—Fenway Park, Dodger Stadium, and Angel Stadium—have sections in fair territory with very low walls, but if you plan to snag grounders anywhere else, you’ll have to settle for a spot in foul territory.
Fenway Park has a great spot to scoop up grounders during batting practice. (Photo Credit 10.3)
Watch out for the protective screen in front of first base. It blocks lots of balls from rolling down the foul line, so you’re better off avoiding the right side completely. Make sure that wherever you go, there’s not a screen directly between yourself and the batter.
If the stadium has a corner spot—Fenway has a great one down the left-field line—you must claim it. Even if you’re the first fan to enter the stadium, someone at another gate might beat you to it, so you really have to run fast.
When a ball starts rolling toward you, don’t wait until the last second, and don’t simply lean over the railing. That’s what most other fans do, and it limits their reach. Instead, crouch down and pounce over the railing as if you’re an infielder who’s diving headfirst for a ball in the hole. As long as some part of your body remains in the stands, you won’t get in trouble, so here’s what to do: hook your feet over the top of the railing and use your hands to walk yourself out onto the warning track in a push-up position. This move is not for everyone. It requires lots of upper body strength and might leave you somewhat bruised and scraped, but if you can pull it off, you’ll be able to reach balls as far as eight feet out from the wall—balls rolling well into fair territory that other fans wouldn’t even think of catching.
THE GLOVE TRICK (AND OTHER DEVICES)
When I was eight years old, I saw something on TV that left quite an impression. A baseball fan was using a fishing pole to lower a small metal can over a ball that was sitting beyond his reach on the field below. The can descended slowly onto the ball, and when the guy lifted it back up, the ball was gone. I never figured out how that contraption worked, but it didn’t matter because I invented my own device years later—and best of all, mine didn’t require any clunky materials. All I needed was my glove, some string, a large rubber band, and a Magic Marker.
The “glove trick” (as it came to be known) was ideal in the outfield corners at the old Yankee Stadium, where the height of the wall varied from eight to ten feet. Anytime a ball rolled onto the warning track, I was all over it, and as I began traveling to games across North America, I discovered that the trick was just as useful in other ballparks. Wrigley Field and Kauffman Stadium? The high walls along the foul lines were not a problem. Turner Field and Miller Park? The gaps behind the outfield walls became prime real estate. And then there were the bullpens. God bless the bullpens. All the home run balls that landed there were potentially within reach.
Even now, all these years later, whenever I lower my glove, the crowd grows silent, or at least mostly silent. There are always a few hecklers who insist that the trick won’t work. Then, when I raise the glove with the ball tucked snugly inside, I usually receive a thunderous ovation and a dozen high-fives, followed by a barrage of questions about how the dang thing works. It always amuses me when the hecklers ask. I never tell them. I just shrug and walk away. But I’m gonna tell you. Because you’re nice.
Start by tying a long piece of string around the wrist of your glove (figure 1). Then stretch the rubber band over the fingertips in order to create a space that’s slightly smaller than the ball—and wedge the Magic Marker inside the pocket to prop it open (figure 2). That’s pretty much it. When you dangle the glove by the string (figure 3) and lower it onto the ball, its weight will force the rubber band to stretch to the side (figure 4) and allow the ball to slip in (figure 5). Then, when you lift it back up (figure 6—view from below), the band will hold the ball in place.2
Make sure that the string is tied really tight. Wrap it around several times and tie multiple knots to be safe. I’ve seen people lose their gloves when the knots come undone. Also, keep in mind that if the rubber band is too tight, it won’t stretch to let the ball in, and if it’s too loose, the lack of tension will allow the ball to slip out. Practice using the glove trick at home before you bring it to a game for the first time. Stand on a chair or a balcony or a fourth-floor fire escape. The higher up you go, the easier it’ll be when you’re using it at a stadium.
Behold the glove trick! (Photo Credit 10.4)
Here are some other glove trick strategies:
Extra supplies—Bring extra string, rubber bands, and Magic Markers. You never know what might happen. (For the record, size 117 rubber bands work best for me. They’re 7 inches long, ⅛ of an inch wide, and 1/16 of an inch thick.)
Mind the gap—Just as you should search for Easter eggs in the seats, you should look for balls in the bullpens and in the gaps behind the outfield walls. Even if you don’t have a device, you might be able to get a player or coach (or a random stadium employee) to toss the ball to you.
String storage—After each use, coil the string and tuck it neatly inside the palm of your glove. It might be a bit uncomfortable at first, but you’ll get used to it. Don’t bunch up the string and jam it in or it’ll get tangled.
Study your surroundings—Think about every surface and stadium feature that might make it tough to use the glove trick. The back walls in most bullpens, for example, are made of concrete; when home runs land there, they often ricochet back toward the field and end up beyond your reach. Or, if you’re at a ballpark that has a rubberized warning track, most balls that roll toward you will bounce off the outfield wall and trickle back toward the edge of the grass—once again, beyond your reach. The point is, don’t rely on the glove trick in these places.
Knock it closer—If there’s a ball sitting several feet out from the wall, don’t give up on it. Let out some string, fling the glove onto the field, and tug it back to knock the ball closer. Don’t do this with the marker in the glove. It’ll probably fall out. After moving the ball, you’ll need to raise the glove and set up the trick before swooping back down for the kill.
Wedgie warning—Whether you’re pulling a ball closer or lowering the glove straight down, be careful not to wedge the ball under the padding of the outfield wall or knock it anyplace where it might get trapped.
The Dangle Method—Some fans who rely exclusively on ball-retrieving devices like to lower their contraptions as soon as they reach the front row of the outfield stands—even if there’s no ball in sight. This creates two advantages. First, if a ball rolls to them, they’ll be able to snag it in an instant, and second, it might entice a curious player to place a ball on the warning track for them. Sounds good, right? Well, there’s one glaring disadvantage that the danglers face: if a ball rolls 20 feet to either side, or if a home run starts flying toward their section, they’re screwed because they have to reel in the device before they can run anywhere. Since mobility is crucial, I prefer to wait until a ball rolls to the wall before making my move. Sometimes I get there too late, but I’m able to cover much more ground.
Another popular ball-retrieving device is the “cup trick.” In order to make one, you’ll need a sturdy plastic cup and some type of weight to help push it down over the ball. The opening of the cup (assuming it slants in and isn’t perfectly cylindrical) should be three inches in diameter. You can line the inner rim with duct tape to help the ball stick inside, but this isn’t necessary if you find the perfect fit. Just play around with it. Experiment with different cups and methods for weighing them down. It’s all about trial and error, so be creative and see what you can come up with. I once saw a fan snag a ball with an actual roll of duct tape; the center hole was just the right size, and he skillfully wedged the ball inside. Any object with a hole that’s slightly smaller than a ball can work, especially if th
ere’s a little bit of stretchiness or stickiness involved.
No matter what type of device you use, you’re going to receive a mixed reaction from the players. Over the years, dozens of guys have (jokingly) tried to sabotage me by firing balls at my glove, while others have walked over for a closer look and congratulated me when I was done.
“Let me see how you did that,” they’ll say.
“Put another ball down there for me, and I’ll show you,” I’ll reply.
It feels pretty special to do something that impresses a major league baseball player, and it feels even better to have a player on my side. At Great American Ball Park in 2005, Giants reliever Scott Eyre moved a ball closer to the wall for me during BP, then argued with an usher who stopped me from using the glove trick, and finally picked up the ball and tossed it to me.
This raises one final issue: stadium security. The use of ball-retrieving devices is against the rules at some stadiums, so be careful and proceed at your own risk. At worst, your glove or cup could get confiscated, but that’s unlikely. Security will usually give you a warning, but you still need to use common sense. Don’t start flinging your glove onto the field if there’s a guard standing nearby—or at least ask for permission first. It’s hard to predict how any particular stadium employee will react, but as you attend more and more games, your instincts will guide you.
1 Every roster has a “B/T” category, which stands for “Bats/Throws.” If it says “L/L” next to a particular player’s name, that means he bats and throws left-handed. If it says “S/R,” that means he’s a switch-hitter who throws right-handed.
2 Ta-daa!!!
CHAPTER 11
HOW TO GET A PLAYER TO THROW YOU A BALL
DRESS FOR SUCCESS
One of the easiest ways to snag a ball is to get a player (or coach) to throw one to you during batting practice. In fact, some old-school ballhawks think it’s so easy that they don’t even bother trying. But it’s only easy if you know all the tricks. Players tend to be selective. They prefer to toss balls to (a) little kids or (b) young, attractive women. Assuming you don’t fall into either of those categories, you need to give the players a reason to throw balls to you—but if you’re not careful, you’ll end up giving them a reason not to.
Early in the 1992 season, when I first started attending lots of games, I made the mistake of asking Braves right fielder David Justice for a ball while decked out in Mets gear. It happened during BP. Shea Stadium had just opened. I pretty much had the place to myself, so you can imagine how stupid I felt when he turned and shouted, “I’m not gonna throw you a ball if you’re wearin’ a Mets jacket!”
The next day I took off the jacket (as well as the cap I’d been wearing) before calling out to him from the right-field stands. I had no idea what to expect. I thought he might recognize me and start talking trash, but instead he threw the ball my way. That was the last time I ever wore my Mets jacket to Shea, and I soon began leaving my cap at home too. Dressing neutrally made a big difference; the Mets still assumed I was a fan, and visiting teams were more willing to show me some love.
A month later, during BP at Yankee Stadium, Angels coach Ken Macha offered a ball to the first fan with an Angels cap. That inspired me to take my clothing strategy a step further—a step some people might not take. I started wearing caps of the visiting teams, and the baseballs started pouring in. I remember getting seven balls tossed to me by the Expos during a four-game series. Several players practically went out of their way to hook me up, presumably for being such a big “fan” and traveling all the way from Montreal to see them.
How important is team loyalty? I can’t answer that for you. I realize that it’s a way of life for most baseball fans, but for me, personally, I just enjoy the game no matter who’s playing. Although I’ll always have a soft spot for the Mets, I root more for individual players and simply consider myself a fan of the sport, so I don’t feel guilty about switching caps. My advice to you is as follows: look in the mirror, take a deep breath, and ask yourself if you’re willing to dress up like the enemy in order to snag an obscene amount of baseballs. And if the answer is yes, consider investing in T-shirts of the visiting teams to go with the caps. You’ll look like such a big fan that the players will feel guilty about not taking care of you.
The visiting team’s gear will be more effective if the color differs from that of the home team. For example, if you wear a Reds cap to Busch Stadium, you might go unnoticed in the sea of Cardinal fans, but if you have a bright yellow Pirates shirt at Coors Field, you’ll definitely stand out amid the purple and black. If you don’t have any gear of the visiting team, you should still try to color-coordinate your outfit. Going to see the Royals on the road? Throw on a generic blue shirt. It won’t command as much attention as a retro Mark Gubicza jersey, but it certainly won’t hurt.
One last clothing-related piece of advice: don’t wear the same stuff day after day. The players will recognize you (especially if you stand in the same spot and shout the same requests), and when you’re trying to get them to throw you baseballs, that’s usually a bad thing. I can’t count the number of times that I’ve asked for balls and gotten rejections ranging from “Didn’t I throw you one yesterday?” to “How many balls do you need?!” In the late 1990s, Mets pitcher Rick Reed not only refused to throw me balls but prevented me from snagging them on my own; whenever he saw me during BP at Shea Stadium, he moved near the foul line and scooped up foul grounders before they reached me. Over the years, however, there’ve been a few players who continued throwing me balls even after learning about my collection. Heath Bell, the friendliest of them all, saved a couple balls for me from the 2009 World Baseball Classic and All-Star Game—and texted me to let me know he’d bring them to Citizens Bank Park on a certain date. That’s the beauty of asking for baseballs. It’s not just the balls themselves that are special; it’s the chance to interact with the players and actually feel special. And when you get flat-out dissed, you can at least tell your friends that you were dissed by a major leaguer.
Heath Bell makes dreams come true. (Photo Credit 11.1)
A MISHMASH OF STRATEGIES
Regardless of what you’re wearing, you need to get the players’ attention and ask them properly. Since you can’t run out onto the field and tap them on the shoulder, you need to use your voice and be assertive. Don’t be shy. It’s not rude to ask. Fans do it all the time. It’s not even rude to shout as long as you’re polite. Always say “please”—some players won’t acknowledge you unless they hear the magic word—and remember that baseballs aren’t cheap. When you ask for one, the player might not be allowed to give it away. Some teams limit the number of balls that get tossed into the crowd, so if you call out to a guy and he ignores you, don’t take it personally. He might have already given away his one ball for the day, and if you’re the first fan to enter the stadium and you still get rejected, he might be waiting to see if you catch a batted ball on your own—or he might have already promised a ball to someone else. I once bumped into Trevor Hoffman as he was getting off the number 7 train at Shea Stadium; rather than harassing him for an autograph, I asked if he’d toss me a ball during BP—and he did. Hoffman was always generous with baseballs. He probably tossed a dozen into the crowd that day, but it still felt great to have sniffed out an unusual opportunity and taken advantage.
Here are some ways to create more opportunities for yourself:
Separate and elevate—The front row is the easiest place to be seen, but if that row is packed and you’re dressed like everyone else, you won’t stand out. Separate yourself from the masses. Move back a few rows, and if you have good balance, climb on a seat to elevate above the crowd. Jump up and down and wave your arms. Some players might make fun of you by waving back sarcastically, but others will pick you out and toss balls right to you over everyone else’s heads.
Audio-visual—When you call out for a ball and get a player to turn around, he might not have seen you. To make sure tha
t he ends up throwing it to you and not some random fan in your section, shout a few more words (so he recognizes your voice) and add some type of physical gesture to catch his eye. Tip your cap. Flap your glove. Start doing yoga. It doesn’t matter. Just make sure he hears and sees you.
Foreign languages—Although many foreign players do speak English, it’ll impress them if you ask for balls in their native languages. To ask in Spanish, all you have to say is “Dame la bola, por favor.” It’s not particularly fancy or polite—it simply means “Give me the ball, please”—but it’ll do the job. Japanese, the second-most common foreign language in the majors, is much harder because of the inflections. Ask a Japanese friend to teach you the phrase or watch my YouTube videos. I’ve said it in lots of interviews.
A woman’s touch—If you find yourself in the company of a woman (and you’re not a woman yourself), get her to ask for baseballs on your behalf. The players will be excited to hear a melodious voice coming from the stands—and they’ll suddenly become much more, shall we say, accommodating.
A personal touch—If you have something in common with a particular player, mention it when you ask for a ball. The more random it is, the better. I once got Chad Bradford, who shares a birthday with me, to toss one by saying, “How about a ball for a fellow September 14 guy?” Another time I got a ball from Zack Segovia by shouting, “My name is Zack too, and I have ID to prove it.” I even convinced Ty Wigginton to throw me one by removing my cap and showing that I, like he, had a shaved head. Anything can work. Mention the guy’s hometown or high school baseball coach, but don’t be creepy or stalker-ish about it. There are enough ways to snag baseballs that you don’t need to memorize random tidbits of info about the players.
