COMMENTARY : Orioles React to Prank as if Sky Were Falling

Baseball is changing; it’s in dire need of a sense of humor. Take what happened to five players on the roster of the Wausau (Wis.) Timbers of the Midwest League after they merely decided the field needed watering. Their actions resulted in suspensions, outright releases and criticism that paints them as a disgrace to the parent club, the Baltimore Orioles.

However, we didn’t hear a single word of protest implying that what occurred with the Wausau team was any direct reflection on the good name of Baltimore or the Orioles. So it stands as a classic case of overreacting.

Instead of the Orioles seeing the fun intended and being proud of their ingenuity, club personnel director Doug Melvin was embarrassed. He said it was “something we can’t tolerate in this organization.” So the athletes were dealt with far too severely. Regrettable.

It would have seemed Melvin could have had a fatherly talk with the scoundrels and gotten them back on the straight and narrow instead of throwing them to the wolves by holding them up to national criticism. Think of the shame, in such context, this brings to their families.

Reputations are besmirched and for the rest of their lives they’ll be identified as the infamous “Wausau Water Boys.” The incident happened Sunday in South Bend, Ind., when five Wausau team members decided as a prank they would pull back the tarpaulin and allow the rain that was coming down to fall on the grass of Stanley Coveleski Stadium. Maybe they were hoping the following night’s doubleheader would be rained out.

They had played only briefly in the minor leagues but were there long enough to realize rain is a balm for tired bodies and mental depression. Every club has its own weather expert, who can foretell by the way the clouds are gathering or the center-field flag is blowing how soon it is going to rain.

Usually, during batting practice or infield drills, the players are hollering to each other, asking united support for the heavens to open up and rain out the proceedings. Meanwhile, the spectators gathering in the grandstand actually believe the two teams want to play. But how else are they going to get a night off to go shoot pool, or have a peaceful beer, unless nature intervenes and forces the home team to declare a postponement?

The Orioles will move from Wausau to Kane County, Ill., next year, so Wausau is all but history. The case of the midnight watering contingent has, indeed, been the highlight of the season for the last-place club. As a plus, Wausau is getting national attention.

The South Bend White Sox and the local police department conducted an investigation. Imagine if you are a detective assigned to the case of trying to uncover the evidence and apprehend the culprits who climbed over the fence, under the cover of darkness and merely turned down the infield cover so the water falling from the sky would irrigate the grass.

A good lawyer could say they were doing it for purposes of ecology and draw at least 1,000 protest marchers who would demonstrate in behalf of the offending youngsters. It’s reported a pitcher for the South Bend team fell and injured his knee, as if a wet field had caused the accident. But thousands of pitchers slip on fields that are bone dry.

George Spelius, president of the Midwest League, says he’s going to hit all the offenders with 10-day suspensions beginning with the start of the 1991 season. Another case of a man involved in a little boys’ game taking himself far too seriously.

With baseball players, the “Wausau Five” qualify as a special kind of silent heroes. They pulled off a hoax that backfired. It would be considerate if the good citizens of Wausau would give the five lads a parade to lift morale. After all, they didn’t cause a scandal.

There was no serious harm, such as pushing an umpire or cursing the fans. It’s interesting to note that none of the five--infielder Brad Hildreth, catcher Jim Roso and pitchers Jim Dedrick, John Boothby and Kip Yaughn--was on course to win 20 games or bat .340. If that had been the case, the discipline might have been lessened. When you’re a prospect, instead of a suspect, the situation takes on a different connotation.

The punishment hardly fits the “crime.”