The day the Lebanese came calling

By John Pierce

The World University Games were held in Buffalo, N.Y., in 1993. Some colleagues and I, making plans for the Georgia Tech campus (where I was working at the time) to become Olympic Village three summers later, saw a learning opportunity.

We were graciously welcomed to join the volunteer staff on the State University of New York (SUNY) campus in Buffalo — first for training and then after the world-class athletes arrived to compete.

We learned how to handle emergencies — including the possibility that an athlete might seek to defect. Baseball players from Cuba, for example, can find great rewards in professional baseball in the U.S.

Mostly, however, we found these young athletes were simply looking for friendship, encouragement, food and directions — much like in 1996 when they and others came to Atlanta for the big Olympics stage.

Yet, one day there was quite a commotion as the tall, broad-shouldered members of the Lebanese basketball team rushed into the hospitality center. The clear leader of the mission bolted straight for me and stated his inquiry strongly.

“Explain baseball; we don’t understand!” There was an urgency and seriousness in his voice.

I’d watch some of baseball games there and realized that not every country plays our national pastime — or plays it well. So I was glad to help.

However, baseball is a nuanced game. For many of the rules there are noted exceptions.

For example, if you swing and miss the third strike — you are out. Except if the catcher doesn’t catch the ball on the third strike. Then you can run safely to first base.

That is, if the catcher doesn’t throw the ball to the first baseman (with his foot on the base) before you get there. Oh, but you can’t do any of that if first base is already occupied by one of your teammates. 

(You get the picture.)

The intensity with which the request was made caused me to take seriously this educational opportunity. So I tossed four magazines on the floor to represent bases and recruited some other volunteers to join the basketball players in order to assume the various defensive positions on my make-belief field.

I was getting through with basic explanations rather well: nine players, nine innings, three outs each half inning. There are strikeouts, ground outs, fly outs...

I was on a roll. Heads were nodding.

Then a bright idea hit me: Sports Center. So I turned the TV to ESPN where highlights from the previous night's Major League Baseball games were being shown.

I explained each video clip from the home runs to the double plays.

Of course, this was several years before Leesburg, Georgia’s own Buster Posey of the San Francisco Giants had an ugly injury that caused MLB to alter the rules for catchers and base runners who meet at home plate along with the ball.

So when ESPN showed a major collision at home plate the basketball players turned baseball enthusiasts jumped and shouted in unison: “FOUL! FOUL! FOUL!”

I shook my head and said, “You’re not going to believe this. But you can do that in baseball.”

“No! Foul! No! Foul!”

I’m not sure they believed anything else I told them after that. But I’ll always remember the day I sought to explain baseball to the basketball team from Lebanon.

The truth is that the game is pretty simple in terms of its math. But it takes a lifetime to learn (and perhaps to appreciate) the complexities and nuances of baseball. And it’s worth it!

Righting Roman history

By John Pierce

My baseball buddy Marshall Kerlin and I take in minor league games on occasion when the Atlanta Braves vacate Turner Field to play on the road.

Our most memorable trip came during Memorial Day weekend in 2009 when — from Saturday through Monday evenings — we watched A, AA, AAA and Major League games.

Perhaps others have attended all four levels of baseball in one weekend as well. So I’ll throw in the fact I fulfilled my temporary duties at Vineville Baptist Church in Macon in the midst of this baseball feat.

Our stops, in order, were Atlanta, Chattanooga, Rome and Gwinnett. The stars and schedules aligned magically.

During our stop in Rome, where both Marshall and I spent our college days without minor league baseball in town, we checked out the impressive history displays at the State Mutual Stadium. The story of textile league baseball in Northwest Georgia and beyond was told.

Another exhibit focused on the long and impressive history of the Braves. But Marshall noticed something odd.

“What’s wrong with this?” he asked, pointing to a reference to the Braves arrival in Atlanta in 1966 — bringing major league baseball to the South.

The display stated that the Braves had won their first game at old Atlanta Stadium on April 12, 1966, when in fact they had lost in 13 innings to the Pittsburgh Pirates due to a two-run homer by Willie “Pop” Stargell.

Marshall, who remembers everything that’s ever happened in Braves history, also noted that Braves’ catcher Joe Torre hit two home runs in the losing cause. 

And Tony Cloniger pitched all 13 innings for the Braves. That foolish decision damaged the right-hander’s career and likely led to manager Bobby Bragan’s dismissal.

The following week I sent a note to R-Braves GM Mike Dunn, who moved with the team from Macon in 2003, telling him of our enjoyable visit and pointing out the error that Marshall had noted. Such a nice display of history should be accurate, I thought.

Yet when back at the ballpark a couple of years later, I noticed the wishful win on Opening Day 1966 remained. So I mentioned it casually to an usher who asked me to share the information with the assistant general manager who was standing near by.

He wanted to walk over and see the exact place where the correction was needed. The Rome Area History Museum had created the exhibits, he said, and would want them to be accurate. [Update: The Rome Area History Museum had no involvement with the displays according to its director.]

Returning to State Mutual Stadium in Rome this year, however, I was surprised to see that the error — a "boot" in baseball lingo — remains. There has been no correcting of Roman (Braves) history.

Good historians, journalists and others know that accuracy in reporting is important even when the outcome is not what one desires.

So if you happen to attend a minor league in Rome, Ga., and read the interesting background of the great textile leagues of Northwest Georgia as well as the historical record of the Atlanta Braves, know that at least one fact is, in fact, not a fact.

The truth is the Pirates won that memorable first Major League Baseball game for the then-new Atlanta Braves. Marshall remembers all the details. And if you don’t believe him, here’s another recollection.

However, as Braves fans remember more vividly, that early loss to the Pirates was more than fully avenged on Oct. 14, 1992.

Just ask Barry Bonds or Andy Van Slyke — or their slow-footed, former teammate Sid Bream.

Havens of rest

A cool April evening at L.P. Frans Stadium in Hickory, N.C., home of the Crawdads, the South Atlantic League affiliate of the Texas Rangers.

By John Pierce

They’re just various mixtures of grass and dirt, steel and wood. But to some of us, they are havens of rest — a preferred retreat from the demands of daily living.

There are some consistencies: 30-yard base paths; 60 feet and 6 inches from the rubber to the irregular pentagon that marks home. The singing of the National Anthem before the game and “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” during the seventh-inning stretch.

And there are great variances: outfield dimensions, the height and shape of the fences, the amount of in-play foul territory, seating capacities — and the price of peanuts and hot dogs.

There are factors that may disrupt the peace: threatening weather, an obnoxious fan near by or a reliever who can’t find the strike zone. Yet even an imperfect evening at the ballpark is a good one.

True enthusiasts find humor in lesser-aware fans who boo an intentional walk but cheer a base-on-balls when the batter is “pitched around” — although the intent and result were the same. 

We explain that the catcher went to the mound not to encourage the pitcher but to allow the umpire time to recover after being hit by a foul tip in a place not well padded. He knows the umpire will obsessively sweep the plate should the catcher have a similar uncomfortable experience.

Winning is fun, but not everything. Watching your team lose is not a wasted experience. And sometimes it’s good to have no dog in the fight — just take in a ballpark experience without a favored team.

Historic ballparks have unique charms: the ghosts of baseball’s past seem ever present. Well-designed, newer ballparks can recapture some of that feel, though never completely. However, modern restrooms and comfortable seating are appreciated.

Not everyone shares the joys of a ballpark escape. If they did, it would be too crowded and the ticket prices too high. So that's OK.

But for those of us who check the home schedules of teams wherever we travel this time of year, we are looking for something that soothes the soul much more than a movie theater or any other entertainment venue. We need baseball.

Tunnel vision

By John Pierce

Friday night’s home opener at Turner Field provided a unique and enjoyable experience this year. 

Along with many others, including my friends Marshall Kerlin and Scooter Brown, I had the chance to help unfurl the massive American flag that covered much of the pristine outfield grass during the singing of the National Anthem.

Both the afternoon rehearsal and the evening event were delayed by rain. But that did nothing to detract from the overall experience. It did, however, give more time to chat with fellow fans and Braves staff, and to see behind-the-scenes aspects of major league sports.

We gathered in the stark, concrete tunnel below the outfield stands, to surround and assemble the over-sized Old Glory. Clear instructions were given by Braves staff charged with such logistical matters.

However, pauses were required due to the whizzing of golf carts carrying electricians, groundskeepers and other stadium maintenance staff. 

Equipment and supplies were stored in various places.

All of these typically out-of-sight background activities serve as a reminder that most of what we see is made possible by so much that is not seen.

The handsomely paid stars in uniform on the field deserve to be in the bright lights. But they’d be in the dark without the skilled electricians who keep the lights on.

Talented musicians who belt out “O Say Can You See…” would not be heard without sound engineers and those who get the singers in the right place at the right time.

As is often the case, what happens in baseball has application for larger dimensions of life. Most of what we see and do is made possible by the commitments, gifts and goodness of others.  

In all of life, we are better when we bring our diverse talents to a common task. Players are not the only ones who benefit from being part of a team.

Photo: Scooter Brown (right), Homer the Brave, and I check out sample stadium seats in the outfield tunnel, apparently part of efforts to build a new home of the Braves about 12 miles northwest of the current ballpark.

Abe Zarzour, Phil Niekro and a ball glove

By John Pierce

Among the baseball-related junk in my basement is a Phil Niekro-signed ball glove that rests in a light blue stadium seat retrieved (by slipping cash to a construction worker) from just-imploded Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium in 1997.

The story of the glove is an enjoyable one to share.

In 1993, my friends Mike Lee and Frank Wiginton and I drove up from Marietta, Ga., to attend a Chattanooga Lookouts game at historic Engel Stadium. The PA announcer noted that Abe Zarzour (1908-1997), a longtime fan, was in attendance.

Long ago, his immigrant family had established a restaurant in town and Abe had been known as a talented textile league/semi-pro player. His quick catch-and-throw skills had earned him the nickname of “Yo-Yo.” (See this YouTube clip at the 9:12 mark.)

The late radio legend Luther Masingill provided Abe’s other nickname — “Mayor of Main Street” — for community service that included collecting and donating baseball equipment for use by local kids. It seems ol’ Abe enjoyed the smell of leather as much as I do.

On this night in 1993, Abe had brought along a new Wilson A2000 glove signed by former Braves pitcher Phil Niekro (who was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1997) to be given to a lucky fan.

The PA announcer called my seat number as the winner of the glove — which also has Abe Zarzour’s signature scribbled on the thumb and his initials on another finger.

Indeed I was a lucky fan that night — and one very appreciative of the glove that honors a beloved Braves pitcher and pays tribute to a generous man who contributed much to baseball and the betterment of the community in Chattanooga.

Sports news often shows the bad sides of humanity. But there are great stories of goodness and generosity as well — if you know where to look. 

Happy New Year! Baseball is just around the corner.