Foul Ball

by Jim Bouton

  “Okay,” I said. “And I’ll keep my legs crossed, too.”

  Steve Picheny is a good-looking guy, about sixty, who smiles a lot and always seems like he’s about to go play tennis. With his perpetual tan and compact body, he could pass for a personal fitness trainer. A Mercedes-convertible-coupe-driving personal fitness trainer.

  “I see where you’re having some problems up there in Pittsfield,” said Picheny, smiling broadly.

  “We made them an offer they can’t refuse,” I said. “And they’re refusing it.”

  “That’s Pittsfield,” said Picheny. “They never have done the right thing, historically.”

  Chip and I told Picheny how and why we got involved, Picheny asked us a few questions, and before we knew it our kimonos were wide open.

  “So, you’re in a catch-22,” said Picheny, quickly sizing up the situation. “You can’t get a lease without a team, and you can’t get a team without a lease.”

  “The people of Pittsfield understand why we don’t have a team and how that works to their benefit,” I said, “but our opponents—the new-stadium die-hards—are using it against us, pretending not to understand.”

  “The mayor says ‘show me the team,’” said Chip, “while he conspires with the Northern League to make sure we don’t get one.”

  “You need to work with somebody behind the scenes,” said Picheny.

  “We don’t know anybody behind the scenes,” said Chip. “That’s one of our problems; we have no alliances. Nobody owes us any favors and we don’t owe any favors—that’s why they don’t trust us.”

  “I’ve got an idea for you, Steve,” I said, half joking. “Why don’t you get behind the indoor arena—Picheny Arena—and we’ll take Wahconah Park.”

  “That’s all I need,” said Picheny, laughing.

  “Whatever benefits the mayor and the city councilors might be getting on the stadium,” I said, “they could still get on the arena.”

  When I said the word benefits, Picheny held up his hand and rubbed his fingers together in the classic money gesture.

  “I told you I called Jeff Cook,” said Picheny, “but he’s got a conflict because one of his partners represents Fleisig. But I’m going to give him another call. He might want to do something.”

  We thanked Picheny for his time and headed for the car.

  “How about Cain Hibbard representing Fleisig?” said Chip.

  “What a coincidence,” I said, sarcastically. “The same law firm that represents Berkshire Sports & Events represents Fleisig.”

  “I wonder who’s paying the bill?” said Chip.

  “You have such a suspicious nature that it is scary,” I said.

  When we got back to Chip’s house, we discovered an unexpected email from Jim Goldsmith.

  “I heard from Wirz last night,” Goldsmith wrote. “I believe his position is shifting and he would like to get back into discussions with your group. Are you still interested???”

  “That’s really strange,” I said to Chip. “Why is Wirz interested today and not last week? And why wasn’t he always interested, since he has nothing to lose with our offer?”

  “And why is Goldsmith contacting us,” said Chip, “when he knows we first need the league approval from Miles Wolff?”

  “It’s all bogus,” I said. “The Northern League is going through the motions of negotiating to avoid charges of freezing us out.”

  “They can’t possibly believe we would buy Wirz’s franchise before we signed a lease on Wahconah,” said Chip.

  “They’re going to appear to bargain, but not come to terms,” I said. “And I guarantee you we’re never going to get that letter from Miles Wolff.”

  “Do you think they need to protect themselves?” asked Chip.

  “It looks like they think they do,” I said. “And they know better than anybody what’s being done behind the scenes to block us out.”

  At the end of the day we called Eric Margenau with an update. We told him about the mayor saying “show me the team” at the same time that Miles Wolff was refusing to give us a letter of approval and that Goldsmith was playing games with the Wirz franchise.

  “They’re fucking outlaws,” Margenau shouted into the phone. “They’re scurrilous. They can take that league and stick it up their ass. We’re a lot better deal for them than Fleisig and that mayor and his merry band of bandits.”

  So to speak.

  AUGUST 4

  SATURDAY

  Chip has a fiendishly good idea.

  “Let’s take a phone poll immediately after our presentation to the park commissioners on the 13th,” said Chip. “We can ask the viewers at home to vote for one of three proposals—ours, Fleisig’s, or the collegiate league’s—by calling one of three phone numbers. You leave the lines open for about three minutes, a computer registers all the calls, and you get an instant result that we can announce on the spot.”

  “It’s like the show of hands at that Rotary luncheon,” I said, “only bigger.”

  “Right,” said Chip. “And it can be verified on a computer printout if anyone wants to check.”

  “But we shouldn’t tell anybody ahead of time,” I said, “otherwise the merry band of bandits will jam the lines or use a speed dial.”

  “No,” said Chip. “We should announce it ahead of time, and get everybody talking about it, so more people will tune in to vote.”

  “It’s a great idea if it works,” I said. “But it makes me nervous.”

  And that’s how it was that Chip emailed AT&T this morning to see how one would go about pulling off such a stunt.

  Today there was a pool party at the home of our neighbors over the hill on the north side of Bouton Mountain. While Paula and Cindy mingled with friends, Chip and I lurked near the seafood bar, attacking the oysters as they were being shucked, like a couple of starving sea lions.

  “Guess who Maureen Hannon knows?” said Chip, referring to a guest at the party. Maureen works for the National Trust for Historic Preservation and is very active in the Berkshire community.

  “I’ll bite. Who?” I said.

  “Dean Singleton,” said Chip. “The salter of the earth.”

  With that, Chip and I left our post at the seafood bar and walked over to have a word or three with Ms. Hannon.

  “Sure, I know Dean,” said Maureen. “I’ve been teaching him how to ski. He’s a very nice guy.”

  “Have you been following our progress, or lack of it, on Wahconah Park?” I asked.

  “Of course,” said Maureen. “I think it’s great what you’re trying to do. I’m all for saving Wahconah Park.”

  “I sent Mr. Singleton a letter back in July,” said Chip, “telling him he could run with our plan for Wahconah Park and that we would back him to the hilt. I never got a response.”

  “He might not have seen the letter,” said Maureen. “His sister opens his mail and maybe she didn’t think it was important. But I think Dean would like you guys.”

  “Maybe you can tell him,” said Chip, “that he’s being badly served by his local people at the Eagle.”

  “We don’t have deep discussions,” said Maureen. “He’s very shy and he doesn’t say much. We talk on the ski lifts once in a while.”

  “He must be a baseball fan,” I said. “How about if I sent him a copy of Ball Four, as a way of introduction?”

  “I think he’d like that,” said Maureen. “In fact, why don’t you give it to me and I’ll see that he gets it. I’ll be seeing him in a few weeks.”

  Before I had another oyster, I went back to the house and autographed a copy of Ball Four, as follows: “Dean, It might be fun to play on the same team. Best wishes, Jim Bouton.” And I left it with Maureen.

  “Turtle on a fence post,” said Chip.

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “Divine intervention,” said Chip. “A turtle can’t climb a fence post by himself. Someone or some force had to put it there. That’s what having Maureen at the pa
rty is for us.”

  Turtle on a fence post.

  AUGUST 5

  SUNDAY

  The Eagle sportswriter Howard Herman wrote an article today that supports our plan for Wahconah Park.

  Sort of.

  A local ownership group is superior to an out-of-town group, which is why the South County trio has my support.

  But… if they can’t run down a team, all the loving words about Wahconah Park won’t amount to anything.

  The reporters at the Eagle are covering the “what” part of the story—that we don’t have a team. What they’re not covering is the “how” and “why”—how our not having a team might benefit the city, and why certain people might want to keep us from getting one.

  Why haven’t reporters tried to investigate whether or not there is a “done deal,” as some have speculated? If the mayor does already have a deal with Fleisig, for example, or is conspiring with Miles Wolff to deny us a shot at the Wirz franchise, that could be against the law.

  Dusty Bahlman made a brief stab when he challenged Miles Wolff’s statement that he had “never spoken with… the Bouton and Margenau group” about buying a franchise. But he never followed up. Why would Miles make such a misleading statement in the first place, for example? And who, if anyone, might benefit from it? Besides Fleisig.

  Think about it. Several groups are bidding for the opportunity to lease or license a public facility. Are proper procedures being followed? Is there a level playing field? And what does this say about the credibility or legitimacy of other government contracts? Like the GE settlement, for example. Most reporters would jump all over this. Where are the local Woodwards and Bernsteins?

  Or Theo Steins.

  Theo Stein, many in Pittsfield will recall, was the prize-winning Eagle journalist in the late 1990s who covered the illegal dumping of PCBs by General Electric. According to Tim Gray, “It was Stein’s reporting that forced the EPA and GE to even consider doing something about the problem.”

  Where is Theo Stein today? “He was offered a college fellowship,” said Gray, “and he’s now working for the Denver Post, another MediaNews Group paper.” Did Stein’s fellowship opportunity, which pulled him off the GE story at the height of the controversy, raise questions among environmentalists? It did for Gray. “We lost the most knowledgeable man in the field,” he said. “And his replacement—a guy named Jack Dew—has been terrible.”

  It hasn’t always been this way. For most of its 110-year history, the Berkshire Eagle has had an excellent reputation, with a Pulitzer and other prizes to its credit, under the leadership of publisher and editor Lawrence K. “Pete” Miller. But poor business decisions by the third generation of Millers led in 1995 to the forced sale of the Eagle and its companion newspapers to Dean Singleton, described by the Columbia Journalism Review as a “slash-and-burn publisher… who pocketed a bundle by shutting down the Houston Post.”

  The transition, supervised by David Scribner (who had recently arrived from the Middletown Press in Connecticut), was “as efficient as it was gut-wrenching” according to the Columbia Journalism Review. “People were told whether they had a job or not. If they did, Scribner handed them a piece of paper that described the basic terms. They were expected to put their initials in a box marked ‘accept’ or ‘reject’ on the spot. There were no negotiations.”

  The editorial style of the new regime was established the following day when there was not a single story in the Eagle about the staff reductions or the manner in which they were achieved, even though it was being reported by other media. “There’s a gag order,” said editorial writer Elizabeth Field, “and we can no longer report in the Berkshire Eagle any activities going on here.”

  On the second day after the sale, there was a story that gave the details of the transaction, but as the Review reports, “it was accompanied by a self-serving sidebar with questions and answers compiled by Singleton’s management team. The first two answers (the ones which appeared on the front page) stressed that there were no layoffs or pay cuts at the Eagle since everyone was now a new employee of a different company.”

  Talk about Orwellian semantics.

  AUGUST 6

  MONDAY

  Right now, we’re in a countdown to the park commissioners’ meeting, which could be next week. We’re putting together a very comprehensive proposal that will have eight sections: principals, marketing plan, facilities plan, license agreement, ownership structure, financial plan, league negotiations, and next steps. And one new item that we’re adding to our proposal—as a last-minute surprise—is a commitment to invest at least $250,000 in capital improvements by opening day 2002.

  I’m writing the marketing plan. Chip is writing everything else. Chip is our technical, financial, and strategic-planning writer. I’m the sentimental bullshit, baseball credential, marketing guy. Chip is the steak, I’m the sizzle. Right now, for example, I’m planning a response to Howard Herman’s column in yesterday’s Eagle, in which he said we needed to have a team before we could get a lease. I’ll be frying up a batch of words this afternoon.

  This morning, I got a disturbing phone call from Eric Lincoln. He said Peter Arlos told him that Cliff Nilan was saying, “I’m going to have that lease signed by that other fella, Fleisig. At least I know he’s got a franchise.”

  Nilan’s going to have it signed? What about the other commissioners? Does Nilan speak for all of them? And how can he say this a week before the presentations? Has a decision already been made?

  AUGUST 7

  TUESDAY

  Today’s Eagle features a letter to the editor from Mayor Doyle, headlined “FIX” SPECULATION IS INSULT TO COMMISSION:

  The Pittsfield Parks Commission, just like numerous other commissions and committees, is made up of good, caring people who donate their time…

  To insinuate that a “fix is in” for or against any proposal for baseball at Wahconah Park is ridiculous…

  Making these baseless accusations is not only insulting to members of the Parks Commission, it is embarrassing for Pittsfield.

  I agree with the mayor. Speculation about a “fix” is embarrassing to Pittsfield. And someone should speak to Cliff Nilan about that.

  And someone should speak to Jonathan Fleisig about the bad publicity he’s getting on the Internet.

  Just for the hell of it, Chip typed “Jonathan Fleisig” into the Google search engine and came up with some interesting material. Evidently Fleisig is none too popular in Topeka, Kansas. Earlier this year, according to the Topeka Capital-Journal, Fleisig’s Central Hockey League team—the Topeka ScareCrows—had been booted out of the league for a variety of reasons. Only a temporary restraining order has allowed Fleisig to resume playing.

  “The league wanted to end its contract with the ScareCrows,” CHL Commissioner Thomas Berry is quoted as saying, “because Fleisig hadn’t paid league fees totaling $90,000 this year, because the ScareCrows don’t have a required letter of credit for $100,000, and because of reports that the team was going to leave the CHL with two years left on its contract.”

  This is separate from Fleisig’s abandonment of Lynn, Massachusetts, two years ago, when he walked out with his Mad Dogs rather than pay for repairs at the town’s aging ballpark.

  But that’s not the best part. The number one entry in a Google search for Jonathan Fleisig is something called “A Tribute to Jonathan Fleisig.” I guess you could call it a fan site. A disgruntled fan.

  What it is, boys and girls, is a photo of a horse’s ass that suddenly springs to life with an animated action that is nothing short of astonishing. A cut-out picture of Fleisig’s head—inside a red circle with the diagonal red stripe—is expelled from the horse’s ass and plops onto the ground where it steams for a few seconds. Steam comes off it. I’m not kidding.

  That’s not all. At the same time that Fleisig’s head is being disgorged from the horse’s posterior orifice, a voice is saying, “Frankly, I don’t give a shit, I’m only in this for
the money. Frankly, I don’t give a shit, I’m only in this for the money.” Over and over again. It’s a deep, rich voice—as befits the subject matter—and I’m wondering whom it belongs to. It’s probably not Fleisig, because it sounds too professional—like a radio personality.

  By way of explanation, at the bottom of the web page, there’s a quote from Oklahoma City Blazers general manager, Brad Lund, on the prospect of the ScareCrows leaving the Central Hockey League. “It’s a blessing in disguise to have Fleisig out of the league. He’s been nothing but problems.”

  Then the horse and the voice do their thing all over again. And again. And again. I don’t know how often it repeats. I only watched it about thirty-six times and then I had to run some errands.

  “What do you think we should do with this information?” I asked Chip, regarding Fleisig’s newly discovered connection to the horsey set.

  “I think we hold back on it,” he said. “Wait for the right moment. We don’t want to blow him up too soon. They might try to find a replacement.”

  “And we’ll end up bidding against Berkshire Sports & Events for the Wirz franchise,” I said.

  AUGUST 8

  WEDNESDAY

  Today’s Eagle contained a good news/bad news story about Wahconah Park. The good news is that the Parks Commission has finally confirmed it will hold a public meeting on August 13, at which petitioners can make their presentations and the public will be allowed to comment. And it’s being held in the City Council chamber, where it can be televised. The other good news is that a decision will be announced on August 20.

  The bad news is that the park commissioners have listed eight “minimum conditions” that should be addressed by the petitioners, as follows:

  1. Written contractual ownership of a professional baseball team or a binding agreement for the purchase of a team.

  2. Provide articles of incorporation for the ownership entity.