Elvis Was a No-Show

By David Marasco

According to baseball legend The Voice said "Build it and he will come." When I heard The Voice it said something different -- "Take a vacation." I'd been working fairly hard, and some time off was in order. So on a Saturday in late August 1998 I pointed my car towards Iowa and put the pedal to the metal.

My first stop was the actual Field of Dreams, located in Dyersville Iowa. It's about 25 miles west of Debuque, not far off the highway. I simply followed the signs found my way. In the film James Earl Jones boldly stated that people would freely open their wallets for the magic of baseball. This perhaps would be true if the ghost team were a reality, but it's just a field, there's no price for admission.

I first patrolled the outfield, but with Little Leaguers hitting, not much came my way. I played around with bursting out of the cornfield, but that was, well, corny. A quick trip to the gift shop for souvenirs stood between me and the backstop. That was where the line formed for the hitters.

Yeah, me, a hitter. Last time I swung a bat I was playing shortstop for a muffin nine of physicists some 7 or 8 years ago. I was knocked out of the game by a collision with an overenthusiastic chemist. Perhaps hitting is like riding a bicycle, once you learn you never forget. But even then, in bicycle terms my hitting never got too much farther than training wheels.

So I stood in line watching others take their cuts in friendly BP. One 8-year-old was swishing away while his mother unleashed non-stop criticism. "Tuck in your elbows... Choke up on the bat... Legs wider!" No wonder why some kids don't like to play the game. The guy in front of me was a real slugger. He was launching bombs deep in the outfield. He'd be a hard act to follow.

He gets done with his cuts and hands me his bat. For the first time I notice it is aluminum. It feels wrong to use a metal bat on this field, but beggars can't be choosers. I walk to the plate. "Where you from?" asks the catcher. "Chicago" is the answer. He spits. "Lots of people from Chicago these days." The first offering is low and away, but I lunge and manage to foul it off. The next pitch is closer and I drive it through the hole between first and second, it would have been a clean hit in a real game. I smile.

I stand in for a few more pitches, a couple of foul balls, some bouncers to fielders, and a few more hits. Never got enough to really pull the ball though. The line for hitting is long, so I make my time at the plate short. As I hand the bat to the next person in line the catcher winks, "that was some nice hitting, Chicago."

My next stop is Riverview Stadium in Clinton Iowa. Might as well get as much baseball as I can so long as I'm west of the Mississippi. Riverview is an old WPA stadium erected in 1937. Not state of the art, but art of the state. The lady at the gate lets me in for free when I tell her that I am a baseball writer from Chicago. I should use that line more often.

The Clinton Lumberkings are a franchise that has fallen upon hard times. While the rest of the minors are seeing a renaissance, Clinton has seen declining attendance for nearly a decade. They are drawing fewer than 700 a game. In their first 57 contests they clicked through a mere 39,000, one good night at Wrigley. And that's more than 10% down from 1997. There are other franchises in the Midwest League that draw ten times the fans the Lumberkings do. Elvis was supposed to appear the night before I went, but according to a little girl behind me the King was a no-show. That's the way things are going in Clinton, you can't even get a decent Elvis-sighting. The future looks bleak for baseball in Clinton.

And that is a shame. Clinton has a glorious past. The city has had a Midwest League franchise since 1954 and has been involved in organized baseball for over 100 years. In not-so-distant times it has been a stop in both the Dodger and Giant chains. Among the recent famous alumni we can find: Orel Hershiser, Mike Scoiscia, Rod Beck, Royce Clayton, Matt Williams, Steve Sax, Dave Stewart, Tom Kelly, Jim Leyland and Wendell Kim.

The Cedar Rapids Kernels are in town, and their manager Garry Templeton is chatting away with the fans. I get on line for food, only to find most of the Kernels waiting behind me. Never had that happen in a big league park. The attraction for the night is an act named the Zooperstars. Normally I look down my nose at minor league stunts, they are so... minor league. But these guys are great! They are mascots in inflatable suits, and can do things that no other mascots can do (insert joke about Clinton and inflatable mascots here).

Ahem, on to the game. The Lumberkings started Wascar Serrano (135 IP, 136H, 48 BB and 124K), and he was on fire. Only one man reached base in the first four innings. Cedar Rapid's Keith Volkman (41.1IP, 44H, 54BB and 41K) was wild but effective. The first time through the lineup saw two walks and 5 K's. His wildness would be his undoing. He hit the leadoff man in the bottom of the fourth, and then gave up a hit. A 6-4-3 double play got him closer to escape, but a single would score the runner from third.

Down 1-0 Cedar Rapids went to work in the fifth. A single and a walk got two aboard with no outs. This was solved by a 6-4-3 twinkilling, and Serrano was able to dodge his closest bullet. Both pitchers started to mow down the batters, each team would have only two more baserunners the entire game. Hitting was perhaps affected by the poorer than normal lighting at Riverview, the ball was hard to see in the dark. The game finished 1-0, a great pitcher's duel. If the baseball is that good and people still don't come, then maybe the current residents of Clinton don't deserve a team.

After the game I crossed the Mississippi and headed back for Chicago. About halfway home I noticed that my engine was running a little hot. I decided to get off at the next exit and attend to the problem. When I pulled off the highway all the warning lights on the dashboard went crazy. I quickly had my car on the side of road, parked next to a cornfield. I walked a few miles to a service station and got some oil and water. Upon return to my car I checked the oil and gave the car a little bit. When I opened my coolant system I didn't hear any steam. Bad sign. I poured in a little water and heard dripping from down below. I got down on my knees and saw the puddle forming under my car. Crap. Knowing that I couldn't do anything more until morning I clambered into the back of my car and settled in for the night. It gets mighty quiet out in the corn.

I had my car towed to a garage the next day. The mechanic wasn't too happy about having to come in on a Sunday and I wasn't too happy about being stranded in the middle of nowhere. Things got a little testy. Then I noticed that he had an autographed picture of Bob Feller on his wall. I pointed it out and mentioned that I had met Feller a few years back. This changed the mood entirely and we swapped baseball stories for a good chunk of the morning.

One water pump and a week later I was back on the road. This time headed east, namely South Bend Indiana. I went to their website and filled out a form, thus earning myself a coupon for a free ticket to a ballgame.

Despite a horrid record the South Bend Silver Hawks are in much better shape than Clinton. They see roughly five times as many people per game. The Silver Hawks play in a nice new yard, Stanley Coveleski Regional Stadium - "The Cove." This place combines the shopping concourses of Comiskey Park with the closeness of a minor league stadium. It has two full-color scoreboards. Add to that a working relationship with the Arizona Diamondbacks (who played a game against their A-ball franchise this year, something you'll rarely see) and the Silver Hawks are doing fine. Chalk that up to good marketing. A poor record? Make it a selling point. Hot dogs, soda, beer and popcorn were all $.95 in honor of the Silver Hawk's 95 losses. After a few innings people started grumbling about the next day's $.96 beer. You can't change the hand you were dealt, but there are many ways to play it.

BoSox fans will be happy to learn that their farm team the Michigan Battle Cats were in town. I don't have the best eye when it comes to projecting A-ball talent. I used to watch a shortstop in San Jose who I thought would never make it past AA. Well, Royce Clayton not only made it to the majors, but he also replaced Ozzie Smith. For whatever it's worth, a pair of Battle Cats did catch my eye. From A-ball rosters you can generally expect 2-3 players to make it to the bigs, perhaps these two will someday play in whatever monstrosity replaces Fenway.

Carlos Leon played second and went 2-3 with a walk and two runs. He had a nice night with the glove. Alejandro Ahumada had great hands at third and went 2-4. A look at the stats shows why one-game impressions aren't the best. My quick-handed Ahumada lead the team with 22 errors. Based upon numbers and not observation, the position players with promise are Shea Hillenbrand (.351/.547/.385) and DH Jeff Keaveney (.256/.449/.370). To give context the team's offensive numbers as a whole are Batting .263, Slugging .380 and OBP .340.

The game started as a laugher and ended as a thriller. The Battle Cats put some hurt on the Silver Hawks in the early innings, they lead 6-1 after 4. It was only partially due to the prowess of the Baby BoSox, they got a lot of help from the opposition. In the fourth they got the first two runners on via a hit batman and a walk. A fly ball moved up the runners, and the next man sent a short blooper to center. Either of the middle infielders had a shot at it, but the centerfielder was charging and calling for the ball. He dove and missed. One run in. Hillenbrand singled to left for another run. After another out the Battle Cats hit a grounder to short... But there was another error and it spelled a third run.

The Silver Hawks chipped away with a run in the 7th and the 8th. An error and a triple got the Battle Cats an insurance run in the ninth to push the lead to 7-3. Things got sticky in the bottom of the ninth. A walk was followed by a triple, 7-4. Another walk, and then a single, 7-5. New pitcher, two men on, none out. Go ahead run at the plate. The 2-3-4 hitters due up in the lineup. The first hitter struck out swinging on six pitches. The next man wiffed on three pitches. One out away. Wyley Steelmon, the Silver Hawk's best hitter, at the plate. The first pitch is strike one, the second is rocketed down the line - only to be snagged in a great play by Ahumada at third. That's it, food will be $.96 tomorrow. Not for me, I point the car back towards Illinois and start driving. I'm a long way from home.