Game of Softball Appeals to the Massives : But Not All 41 Million Have Big Bellies; Some Are Even Big Leaguers

The American Softball Assn. Hall of Fame sits on 27 heat-blasted acres not far from the interstate. At the entrance to the sprawling complex, members of the Baptist Student Union are serving free lemonade.

Hall of Fame Stadium, site of men’s and women’s fast- and slow-pitch softball in the U.S. Olympic Festival, was built at a cost of $2 million. It was a financial outlay justified by softball’s position as America’s No. 1 participant sport. Bowling may argue with this, but we are told that 41 million Americans are playing softball.

Perhaps they are, but judging from the attendance figures this week, Americans aren’t compelled to watch it being played. Even by the very best.

The great thing about softball is that it doesn’t really matter. Everyone is welcome at the park. Proof is found in the men’s slow-pitch competition. Sprinkled in among the weekend warriors here are two former major league baseball players, zealous converts to the sport of beer bellies and city parks.

Doug Flynn spent 11 years in the major leagues with Cincinnati, the New York Mets, Texas, Montreal and Detroit. Flynn was a light-hitting shortstop-utility man who played on the Pete Rose Red teams that were in the World Series in 1975 and 1976.

He was released in 1985 by the Tigers.

“I wasn’t ready to quit playing baseball,” Flynn said.

He also wasn’t interested in playing on a Tuesday night baseball league at a level that would fail to challenge him.

So Flynn, 38, chose slow-pitch softball, which he had played for a year before he made it to the majors.

“I knew what to expect,” he said, standing in the shade of a tree before a game this week. “The majority of people don’t play softball like this. It’s more like you bring your wife and there are kids running around everywhere. You barbecue after the game. It’s not like that at this level, but it’s still fun.”

Then there is Ted Cox. He broke into the major leagues in a major way. Cox played his first game for the Red Sox in 1977 and went four for four against the Orioles. The next day he was two for two against the Yankees. His six for six in his first at-bats as a rookie stand as a major league record. That year, Cox also hit .362.

His professional career faded, however, for a variety of reasons and when he lost his power at the plate, he was finished in baseball. He was finally released in 1981 by Toronto.

In softball, though, Cox is a slugger.

“I had a lot of major league managers tell me I couldn’t hit it if they lobbed it in,” Cox, 34, said, laughing. “Now I’m proving them wrong.”

By most counts, there are four former major leaguers active in slow-pitch softball. Several others have moved through the game over the years. Some in softball grit their teeth at the attention paid to the refugees from baseball, wishing instead that their sport could generate publicity on its own merits.

Still, exposure is exposure and people in this sport tend to be a forgiving lot.

“Pete Rose tells me I get more publicity playing softball than I ever got playing baseball,” Flynn said. “You don’t get much ink hitting .238.”

Major league players have been helpful to softball in terms of the attention they bring with them, but they are no better than rookies when they arrive.

“I didn’t come waltzing in here expecting anything from these guys,” Flynn said. “I came in respecting them. To them, this is their major leagues.”

There is some evidence to support the suggestion that major league baseball players would do well to respect their hefty brothers in softball. Last winter in Riverside, an all-star team from softball played an all-star team from baseball in a softball game for charity. Among those playing for the baseball side were Darryl Strawberry, Gary Pettis, Franklin Stubbs and Eric Davis.

It is difficult to overstate the thrashing suffered by the professional baseball players, but know that pitcher John Candelaria gave up 23 runs in the first inning .

Softball won, 42-10.

There is nothing untoward about that score, either. Here is a truly crowd-pleasing sport in which runs are served up in bunches. The East team beat the North here Monday, 40-31.

Batting averages in slow-pitch are almost as high as ERAs. Whereas fast-pitch is a defensive, pitching-oriented game, slow-pitch is strictly offense. Pitchers can ill afford to hang their heads after giving up home runs. Conversely, failure to hit for anything less than a triple is nearly ego-shattering.

Officials here like to say that one reason for the sport’s popularity is the game’s accessibility. Almost everyone can play softball and athleticism is allowed but not strictly required.

Softball is a cozy sport that happily accommodates even the very large and heavy.

The South team leads the lard derby, averaging 237 pounds a player. In fact, the 55 players in the tournament weigh a total of 12,135 pounds or an average of 220.

Beefy nicknames are as common in softball as they are in professional wrestling. Most are deadly accurate. Perhaps it clarifies things to know about players such as Rick (Crusher) Scherr, 6-foot-5 and 305. And Kevin (Tiny) Giddens, 6-3 and 220.

However, Mike Zadel, 6-7 and 235, and Anthony Foscia, 6-6 and 230, of the West team have no known nicknames. Neither does Greg Fuhrman, 6-6 and 295, a pitcher for the South.

Despite statistics that indicate otherwise, most officials in softball are eager to shed the sport’s sloppy, beery image. Cox, who at 6-4 and 260 is admittedly 50 pounds overweight, nevertheless says, “A lot of people think we’re a bunch of fat slobs. They think we just stand around and drink beer. These are a bunch of big men and great athletes.”

Big men tend to hit the ball a long way and the sluggers in softball are prodigious.

Mighty Mike Macenko is a second baseman for Steele’s Silver Bullets, a widely known touring team. Two years ago, Macenko hit 844 home runs, 100 more than Hank Aaron hit in his entire baseball career. Last season, he had 1,667 RBIs. In his career, Macenko has never struck out.

Softball’s current home run king is one Bruce (the Bruiser) Meade of the East. He is 6-6 and 265, a sheriff in Manatee County, Fla. Meade has hit a Dudley SB-12L cork-center ball 510 feet.

“Yeah, people love to come out and see us hit the ball,” Flynn said. “But for me, this is so much better than the majors. You don’t see knockdown pitches here. People don’t come into second base trying to hurt you. They know you have to get up the next day and go to work.”