Getting Back in Touch With Amazing Stories

“How you doing?” the familiar voice on the telephone asked. “What’s new?”

“Not much,” I responded. “Typical June in the world of sports.”

“Dull, huh?” he said. “I’ve been out of touch. Backpacking in the Himalayas. What’s been happening with the Padres? Don’t get much news over there on baseball.”

“They’ve been kinda mediocre,” I sighed. “They’re playing like the Padres always played before ’84 made us forget.”

Caller: “Chewing Dodger dust again, huh?”

I laughed. This guy had been out of touch.

“Not exactly,” I explained. “They’re neck and neck with the Dodgers. They have to worry about catching Houston and San Francisco . . .

Caller, interrupting: “Wait a minute. I’m afraid the altitude must have done something to my eardrums.”

“You heard me right,” I said.

Caller, laughing: “Ha! I suppose next you’re going to tell me Steve Garvey was ejected from a game and Eric Show is going to be a movie star.”

“That’s right,” I said.

Caller, beginning to sound like either Abbott or Costello: “What’s right?”

“That’s right,” I said. “Steve Garvey was ejected from a game and Eric Show is going to be a movie star.”

Caller, scoffing: “Sure, and Shamu was elected mayor and Bruce Bochy is after Roger Maris’ home run record.”

“That’s right,” I said.

Caller, gasping: “What? Shamu was elected mayor?”

“No, no,” I said. “But Bochy is hitting home runs at a Ruthian pace. At the rate he’s hitting home runs, he would hit 60 home runs over a full season.”

Caller: “What’s the catch?”

“The way the Padres use Bochy,” I said, “it’ll take him three or four years to play 162 games. Poor Maris got an asterisk, and he only got an extra eight games when he beat Ruth.”

Caller, sighing: “OK! OK! Forget Shamu and Bruce Bochy. Tell me about Steve Garvey and Eric Show.”

“Garvey was thrown out of a game for arguing about a call at the plate,” I explained. “I understand he drew a line in the dirt and told the umpire to bear down.”

Caller, smirking: “Sounds pretty serious.”

“It was,” I said. “Anyone who purports to be an example to America’s youth just can’t go around frowning at authority figures. Garvey deserved to be ejected. Steve Boros got the raw deal.”

Caller: “Boros? What happened to him? Fired already?”

“He was ejected during the pregame meeting at home plate,” I said. “He came out carrying a videotape and got thrown out before he had a chance to explain that he thought the umpires might like to watch ‘Back to the Future.’ But neither Garvey nor Boros were as mad as Goose.”

Caller, chuckling: “Goose? What ruffled Gossage’s feathers?”

“The Padres banned beer,” I explained.

Caller: “They did? From where? The bullpen? Mission Valley?”

“No,” I said. “Ballard Smith issued a memo that beer would no longer be provided or permitted in the clubhouse.”

Caller: “And Goose was upset? He feels management owes its employees a tub of iced beer after work? Boy, I wish he’d talk to my boss.”

“I don’t think Goose is really talking to his bosses these days,” I observed. “He called Smith gutless and spineless.”

Caller, alarmed: “You’re kidding! Where’s Goose pitching now? Beaumont? Idaho Falls? Cleveland?”

“Still here,” I said. “He met with Smith and I understand Smith told him to his face he couldn’t drink beer in the clubhouse and Goose told Smith to his face he was gutless and spineless. I guess that’s called kissing and making up. They’ll live happily ever after.”

Caller: “As long as we’re talking about fairy tales, what’s this about Eric Show? You said something about movies.”

“Darn right,” I said. “Eric is going to star in ‘The Christy Mathewson Story.’ ”

Caller, incredulous: “Wait a minute. Exactly how did some producer decide that Eric Show should star in a movie about Christy Mathewson?”

“Don’t ask me,” I answered. “You know how crazy some of those Hollywood ‘discovery’ stories can be. Lana Turner in a drugstore. Gene Autry in a telegraph office. I suppose Eric was playing his guitar for the pigeons in Horton Plaza when Cecil B. DeMille stepped off a bus from Chula Vista.”

Caller: “Hmmm, anything else new?”

“Well,” I said, “LaMarr Hoyt is on a scavenger hunt.”

Caller: “A what?”

“A scavenger hunt,” I said. “He has a list of things he needs to win. A fastball and a slider and a curve and a few other items like that. He has everything he needs crossed out, except for one thing he can’t for the life of him find.”

Caller: “What’s that?”

“Home plate,” I said. “He’s looking for it out in the bullpen now.”

Caller: “Very funny. I guess I better get going before I start believing any of this.”

“Hold on,” I said. “One more thing. I think Ballard Smith is going to have to discipline Carmelo Martinez.”

Caller, curious: “Oh? Why?”

“He keeps getting boos at the ballpark.”