Baseball May Not Want to Venture Back to the Future

We now join the broadcast of the opening game of the 1996 World Series, in progress, with Brick Burns and Rip Sock at the microphone . . .

Brick: Well, Rip, old buddy, it’s a great day for baseball here in Moscow, despite the chill in the air--6 degrees at game time, with heavy snow flurries. But the weather hasn’t dampened the enthusiasm of this fine crowd here in Lenin’s Tomb Stadium, a dandy little ballpark smack dab in downtown Moscow.

Rip: Right you are, Bricker! And can you believe it? Here we are at the first world World Series. As you know, old pal, baseball commissioner Al Davis opened up the Fall Classic to the entire world this year, which revived baseball’s popularity and led to the bankruptcy of the National Football League and the sacking of Pete Rozelle. Anyway, after a long elimination tournament, we’re down to the final two--the Cleveland Indians and the Moscow Burlap Sox.

Brick: Right-o, Rip. The Burlap Sox got here by smoking the Havana Cigars in a best-of-seven series, while the Indians narrowly defeated the powerful Taiwan Little League team.

Rip: This Soviet team is quite a story. The Russians took up baseball 10 years ago when it became an Olympic sport. They formed their own big league, the USSBC--Union of Soviet Socialist Baseball Collectives. And now they’ve got a team in the World Series.

Brick: Yes, indeedy, Rip-o. Of course, this is the latest World Series in history, what with Christmas just a week away. All that means, though, is more baseball for you fans, and a couple extra undershirts for the ballplayers. We’re heading into the bottom of the fifth with the Indians leading, 5-4. Ripper, as we wait for the grounds crew to groom the infield with the Zamboni machine, let’s talk baseball. How about them Indians?

Rip: What can I say, Brickster? Cleveland is the team of the ‘90s. Ever since Reggie Jackson took over in 1987 as owner, general manager, manager, public address announcer and right fielder, the Indians have been a perennial powerhouse, or should I say powerteepee?

Brick: And what’s the word on the Burlap Sox, pard?

Rip: This Moscow ballclub, according to CIA scouting reports, is the epitome of Soviet baseball. Big, tough, hardy, fundamentally sound, but not a lot of finesse. The team didn’t steal a single base this season, but they did have four players who hit 70 or more home runs. Their star pitcher, working today’s game, is Alexy (Comrade K) Kaputski, a rangy right-hander who checks in at 7-4 and 280 pounds, and has a 130 mile-an-hour heater. Speaking of heater, old buddy, how about turning ours up a notch or two!

Brick: Sure thing, compadre. I guess a good illustration of the Sox size is their leadoff batter, Pee Wee Perry, 6-5 and 305. American sports fan will remember him as Refrigerator Perry. When the Los Angeles Lakers signed Soviet basketball star Arvidas Sabonis in 1987, the Russians retaliated by persuading The Fridge to switch teams, sports and countries. Perry said he was looking for a way to get a little further away from Buddy Ryan. And you know, Pee Wee Perry has turned out to be a pretty good little leadoff hitter.

Rip: And a very decent shortstop, I might add.

Brick: While we’re waiting for the Indians trainer to chip the ice off his catcher, I’d like to say what a bang-up job the local folk have done, Rip. This Series will not be lacking in pomp and pageantry. For pregame entertainment, we had the parade of tanks and missiles around the ballpark’s warning track. The first balls were thrown out by the 12 members of the Communist Party Politburo. And, as part of the cultural exchange aspect of the Series, Sammy Davis Jr. sang the Russian national anthem.

Rip: That song can be a bit ponderous, old partner, but I think Sammy’s dancing livened it up nicely. In fact, I’d like to say a word about worldwide peace and brotherhood, if I may, sidekick. I think we all believe in our hearts that this meeting of global powers on the field of athletic strife will do a heck of a lot to foster greater communication and understanding.

Brick: I couldn’t have said it better. I think both countries are learning a lot about the other out here, even from the mascots. The famed San Diego Chicken is here, making fun of the umpires and players. And we’ve also seen Moscow’s Chicken Kiev, who did some hilarious routines mocking capitalist decadence.

Brick: All in the spirit of fun and sportsmanship, old pal.

Rip: And we’ve seen some lively interplay between the teams. There was the bench-clearing brawl in the first inning. Then the Indians accused the Sox of using corked bats, stealing signals and bugging the clubhouse. The home club counter-accused the Indians of using sandpaper, illegal pine tar and heat-seeking devices in their bats.

Brick: Looks like a dandy rivalry developing. All right, we’re ready to play ball, Rip. The leadoff batter digs in, adjusts his batting mittens. I’ll tell you, that snow is really coming down now, pal.

Rip: In fact, we can’t even see the field, fans. We’ve locked horns with an Arctic blizzard here. The heater has gone out and it looks like the Brickster and the Ripper are trapped in the old broadcast booth. Old pal, I think it’s time to break out those signal flares and emergency rations you brought.

Brick: I brought? I thought you had that stuff, amigo.

Rip: No, it was my day to bring the pencils and cigars. Thanks to you, we’ll never get out of here alive, old buddy.

(Please stand by. Due to technical difficulties, our baseball broadcast has been interrupted.)