They Don’t Know Beans When It Comes to Baseball

I found myself arguing Monday with Vic the Brick, a pretty good indication I need another vacation, especially when you take into consideration I’d end the day at Dodger Stadium possibly talking to Kenny Lofton or Jeff Kent.

The Brick began his career in Guam, and according to his resume, spent 15 months covering cockfights, so he obviously knows his sports.

We were talking beanballs and retaliation, the Dodgers hitting Barry Bonds on Easter because a Giant pitcher, who had a 2-0 lead and the tying run at the plate in Jeff Kent with no outs, plunked Kent in the head.

Anyone who knows anything about baseball, and even those like Mychal Thompson of “Loose Cannons” who doesn’t know anything about baseball, knows no one is going to hit someone in a situation like that.

Thompson asked Brick, so if your guy is hit in the head by accident, then you should hit a player on the other team in the head?

“Absolutely,” Brick said, and I’d like to see the look on the faces of the six California Supreme Court justices who will learn today they’re on the same wavelength as the guy who walks around with a lampshade on his head.

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THE CALIFORNIA Supreme Court ruled 6 to 1 recently that Jose Avila, a Rio Hondo Community College player, could not sue and recover damages from Citrus Community College for being beaned in retaliation for a Citrus player being hit earlier.

Avila, who reportedly still suffers seizures more than five years after the incident, wanted his day in court, but as Justice Kathryn Mickle Werdegar wrote for the majority, “In the possibly apocryphal words of New York Yankees catcher Yogi Berra, ‘It ain’t over till it’s over.’ ... This means that for Avila’s complaint against Citrus College, it’s over.” And some people think the writing on Page 2 is cold.

Werdegar also wrote that “being intentionally hit is an inherent risk of the sport, so accepted by custom that a pitch intentionally thrown at a batter has its own terminology, such as chin music,” and wrote “it’s an integral part of pitching tactics,” citing the work of Don Drysdale, Bob Gibson, Pedro Martinez and Roger Clemens.

I read her entire ruling, more than 25 pages of such nonsense, and was a little surprised to find she hadn’t quoted Brick as an authority.

I think the unwritten rule of retaliation is not only barbaric, but potentially criminal -- someone throwing a ball 90 mph at someone because they want to get even. Go ahead and try retaliating in the stands or on the street outside the park for being done wrong. And then stay out of jail.

Just because Drysdale, Gibson and Martinez did it, doesn’t seem like the kind of justification I’d want to hear if that was my kid lying on the ground after getting drilled in the head. I’m relieved, though, to know I don’t think like Brick.

But obviously a little worried about the Supreme Court justices, who come off more like sports talk-radio callers than enlightened scholars.

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HERE’S HOW I knew Kent was OK a day after getting hit in the head: I asked him if he bought the notion of retaliation.

“If you were involved,” he said with the obvious implication that he’d be willing to make the position change to pitcher, “I’d love it.”

Kent was wearing sunglasses, like I wouldn’t know he was rolling his eyes, and he said his head was hurting, but then isn’t it always when we talk?

“It’s a part of the game that players don’t discuss,” he said, and so I said that wasn’t going to keep me from asking about it, and he said, “I know. So go ahead.”

I did, he listened to my question and then in a biting and angry voice, he snapped, “I’ll repeat what I said ... now write that in [a nasty word] bold print,” and I told him I only use names and nicknames in bold on Page 2, and certainly not nasty words, and “you should know that.”

Kent smiled. He looked at the other reporters who had taken several steps back when Kent had raised his voice, and said, “Look how quiet it got.”

I complimented him on intimidating the media once again, and while he tried, he couldn’t keep from laughing, because he knows that I know it’s all an act.

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TODAY’S LAST word comes in e-mail from Jay and Nicky (40 and 8):

“I’ve lived in L.A. for 40 years and have been an avid Dodger fan. I have my own 8-year-old son now and the family that used to bring me to the game sells us 10 games so I can pass down my love for the Dodgers. We sit in the exact seats we did as kids. I feel lucky to have the chance to share this with my son.

“We went to the [Giants] game and I noticed something that has been happening over the last year or so. In front of us, four very drunk and large men sat down and began chanting ‘steroids ... ‘ and profanities toward Barry Bonds. I’m no Bonds’ fan, but the obscenities and constant chanting are not setting the best example of what sports are all about for children.

“I’m no prude. I have a real passion for sports that is over-the-top, and my wife will attest to that. But I had Nick asking me why they were booing, why they were chanting steroids and why everyone hates Bonds. I could answer all those questions without a problem. But when the focus of the game becomes a focus of hatred on one player rather than support for the home team, I don’t know how to explain that. It was embarrassing.

“Tell me I’m wrong and overly sensitive, or please shed some light on how we, as fans of one of the most storied franchises in history, can return to classy glory.”

Trade for Bonds.

T.J. Simers can be reached at

t.j.simers@latimes.com. To read previous columns by Simers, go to latimes.com/simers.