The Baseball

by Zack Hample

Did the Cardinals actually give Grass all this stuff?

  No. And he kept the ball.

  Did he have a right to ask for all that in the first place?

  Absolutely. And he got skewered by the media for being greedy.

  But was he really out of line? When you consider that the items on his wish list probably would’ve cost the team less than $5,000 and that he later received a $200,000 offer for the ball, Grass could have been praised for giving the Cardinals a hometown discount.3

  And what about Forneris? Was he really such a hero? At least one member of the media didn’t think so.

  “Returning a pricey baseball to an athlete is not refreshing. It’s sickening,” wrote Boston Globe reporter Michael Holley. “It’s the American phenomenon of doing for the famous what you might not do for your next-door neighbor. It’s the puzzling action of restaurateurs and clothiers who invite millionaires to their businesses and let them eat for free.”

  See what I mean? There’s not an answer, but I’d say Jameson Sutton had the right idea after snagging Barry Bonds’s final home run in 2007. He decided to send the ball to auction, and when a reporter asked him at the press conference how he’d feel if the Giants slugger were interested, he replied, “Mister Bonds is welcome to come bid on it.”

  Players never seem to buy back their milestone balls, but fans occasionally hold them for ransom anyway. The most outrageous example took place in 2005 when the guy who snagged Jorge Posada’s 1,000th career hit—a ground-rule double at U.S. Cellular Field—demanded $20,000 for it. The incident was so absurd that the media barely covered it, yet die-hard fans who hold out for memorabilia are often portrayed as villains. In 2009 a well-known ballhawk named Nick Yohanek got blasted by the media and received hate mail from people all over the country. His crime? Catching Marlins outfielder Chris Coghlan’s first major league homer and requesting too many goodies in return—two signed bats and a signed ball, to be specific—from a franchise that Forbes.com had recently valued at $244 million. But there was more to it than that. The Marlins had initially promised Yohanek the bats, then reneged and accused him of pawning off a phony ball despite the fact that he’d been the first one to suggest having it authenticated.4 Ultimately, Yohanek gave Coghlan the real ball in exchange for just one bat; the Marlins promised him tickets to an upcoming series, but never delivered.

  What do we learn from all of this? That if the ball isn’t that valuable, and if a team arbitrarily decides that you’re a jerk, things can get messy. If you want to play it safe, ask for a signed bat from the player who hit it. That’s a common and reasonable request, but if you’re not into lumber, ask for a pair of batting gloves. Or a cap. Or hell, even a jockstrap, if that’s your thing. At the very least, you should be allowed to meet the player and hand the ball to him, so make sure that’s part of the deal. You might get escorted to the clubhouse or to some other secret part of the stadium during or after the game, but you know what? It doesn’t matter where the transaction takes place. If the player won’t give you a minute of his time, then the ball obviously isn’t that important to him.

  If the ball isn’t that important to you, or rather, if it’s less important than your team loyalty, there’s something else you can do with it: throw it back onto the field. In the summer of 1969, a Cubs fan named Ron Grousl—one of Wrigley Field’s original “bleacher bums”—did exactly that after catching a Hank Aaron homer. The crowd went wild. His gesture was seen as the ultimate sign of disrespect to the visiting Braves, and a tradition was born. Limited to Chicago at first, the practice eventually spread to other cities, and it’s now such a common occurrence that some teams have written policies explaining the procedure. The Diamondbacks’ website states that “guests are allowed to return a visitor’s home run ball to the field; however, it must be done immediately and in such a way that it does not endanger any player.” In other words, don’t wait half an inning and then try to peg the guy who hit it.

  The first time I ever caught a game home run on the fly, I happened to be at the old Yankee Stadium, and it happened to be hit by a player on the visiting team. I knew what was coming next. More than 25,000 fans started chanting, “Throw it back!! Throw it back!!” and when I sat back down with the ball, they all began chanting a certain seven-letter word that isn’t fit for print.

  Peer pressure is rough. Even die-hard Cubs fans have their way around it. Some of them keep an extra ball handy, just in case they catch a visiting team’s homer that they secretly want to keep. Then they’ll make a quick switch and throw back the dummy ball—sometimes with a message written on it like, “Don’t throw that pitch again,” or, “Cardinals suck.” Then again, some fans are so loyal (or perhaps just clueless) that they’ll hurl the real ball regardless of its value. The first home run in Marlins history (hit by Benito Santiago in San Francisco), as well as A-Rod’s 40/40 ball (hit in Anaheim) and Ivan Rodriguez’s 300th career dinger (hit at Wrigley), were all tossed back.

  Depending on the city, you might not be allowed to participate in the tradition. The Oakland Coliseum “A-to-Z Guide,” for example, warns that “guests entering unauthorized areas of the stadium to retrieve home runs and throwing balls back on the field are subject to ejection and/or arrest for trespassing.” So in other words, watch yourself.

  Finally, there’s one more thing you can do after catching a valuable home run: donate it to the Hall of Fame. Not only will the act of giving back to the baseball world leave you feeling warm and fuzzy, but the Hall will acknowledge you as the donor and give you a lifetime pass for free admission.

  THIRD-OUT BALLS AND OTHER TOSSES

  The easiest way to snag a foul ball is to get one thrown (or handed) to you. Ballboys, ballgirls, first- and third-base coaches, on-deck batters, and corner outfielders all give them away with some degree of regularity. And that’s just the start. Balls that roll into the dugout often get flipped into the seats. Balls that land in the photographers’ boxes usually get handed to young fans. Balls that fly into the press box almost always get tossed into the crowd below. And remember, stadium employees are not supposed to keep balls, so when a vendor, usher, security guard, or mascot nabs one, they usually hand it to the nearest kid. Even the first- and third-base umpires occasionally scoop up grounders that ricochet off the walls in foul territory. If you’re sitting near one of the umps, don’t get discouraged if he grabs a ball and sticks it in his back pocket; he might be waiting until the third out to pick a worthy recipient.

  THE THIRD OUT.

  Those three words are so important that they deserve to be capitalized on their own line. Nearly every half-inning, the fielder who records the third out ends up tossing the ball into the crowd. Sometimes, when an outfielder catches it, he’ll fire it into the bleachers or flip it to a fan sitting along the foul line as he jogs in, but the third-out ball usually gets tossed over the dugout. This is the easiest way to snag a game-used ball, and these are the strategies:

  Pick an end—After the third out, the catcher will head toward the home plate end of the dugout, while his teammates hustle toward the outfield end. Therefore, it helps to predict which player will bring the ball back or, in other words, how the third out will be recorded. How can you tell? Check out the pitcher’s stats. If he averages a strikeout per inning, there’s a good chance that the catcher will end up with several third-out balls. (Of course, if the pitcher is striking out that many batters, it probably means that he throws hard, in which case there’ll be lots of foul balls shooting back into the seats, and you might want to rethink your entire strategy.)

  Race to the front—The ball often gets tossed to a fan in the front row. Assuming you’re not already sitting there, you need to get there as quickly as possible. During the first few innings, there won’t be much competition; most other fans won’t be aware of the incredible snagging opportunities, but they’ll soon catch on and start streaming down the steps when each inning ends. The way to beat them is to anticipate the third out and start moving as soon as the
ball is put in play. That way you’ll already be in the front row by the time the out is recorded.

  Keep your eye on it—The player who catches the ball for the third out might not be the one who ends up tossing it into the crowd. Guys sometimes throw the ball around as they head back to the dugout, so never take your eye off it.

  First baseman comes first—Pay extra-close attention to the first baseman. He’ll be the fielder providing most of the action, so you should try to learn his tendencies. Does he generally lob the ball into the front row behind the middle of the dugout, or does he have a habit of chucking balls to fans near the back of the section? Are those fans kids? Are they wearing gear with his team’s logo? Are they doing anything special to get his attention, or is he picking his targets randomly? Look for all the clues.

  Hold your ground—Whether or not you’ve ever given any serious thought to snagging baseballs, you may have noticed that the first baseman catches a ball every inning as he jogs off the field. That ball gets thrown from the dugout by the first-base coach. It’s the infield warm-up ball. There’s no real reason why it gets thrown. The coach could just as easily hand it to him, but whatever, that’s how it’s done—and it seems to confuse people. Fans mistakenly think that that’s their chance at getting a ball, so when the first baseman (predictably) ignores them, they’ll turn around and head back up the steps. Don’t follow the crowd. Stay in the front row and wait for the other fielders to come in. One of them should have the ball, and if you’ve been keeping your eye on it, you’ll know who it is.

  There are other ways to get balls thrown to you during the game. When each new half-inning is about to start, the first baseman will lob the infield warm-up ball back toward the dugout, where one of the coaches may give it away. In rare cases, that lob will accidentally land on the warning track and bounce into the seats, so stay alert. Meanwhile, outfield warm-up balls also end up as souvenirs, especially late in games, though some players throw them into the stands every inning. Game-used balls can get thrown into the crowd unintentionally; there are 55-footers that occasionally deflect off the catcher and wild throws across the diamond that elude the first baseman. Finally, home run balls often bounce out of the stands and then get tossed back in—so it’s not always that tough to snag a piece of baseball history.5

  AFTER THE FINAL OUT

  Don’t bolt for the exit. There’s all kinds of snagging potential after the game, and it starts with the home plate umpire.

  Yes, the umpire.

  When the game ends, the ump will have a few extra baseballs in his pouches—and if he has any respect for humanity, he’ll give at least one of them away. In order to take advantage of this lesser-known opportunity, you’ll need to find out two things ahead of time. The first is the exact location where the ump will walk off the field, and the second is his name. Fortunately, you can get this info right before the game starts. Just pay close attention when the umps are announced. You’ll hear their names and see them walk onto the field. That’s all there is to it. Wherever they enter—perhaps from the outfield end of the third-base dugout or through a tunnel directly behind the plate—that’s where they’ll exit.6

  As soon as the game goes final, you’ll have approximately 10 to 30 seconds before the umpires make it off the field. Fight your way (not literally) past all the fans who are walking up the steps and hurry down to the front row. Then, when the home plate ump approaches, shout the word “Mister” followed by his last name. Although it hasn’t been scientifically proven, last names work better in these situations because the umpires tend to be a bit older and don’t usually get any respect—but don’t be too polite. It’s going to be loud, and the umps will be walking fast, so if you waste even one second by shouting, “Excuse me,” you might miss your chance.

  Next up: the winning team’s dugout.

  After every game, the winning team gathers near the mound to exchange some combination of fist-bumps, high-fives, handshakes, hugs, and pats on the buttocks—but the lovefest won’t last long. By the time the umpires are gone, the first few players might already be walking off the field. More specifically, they’ll be heading toward the home plate end of their dugout, so if possible, get over there as fast as you can. Any player or coach can potentially toss you a ball—guys sometimes take balls from the dugout just to give them away—but the pitcher is your best bet. The game-ending ball will probably get handed to him, and if it wasn’t used to record a milestone, he’ll have no reason to keep it. (In the event of a walk-off win, there’s no telling where the final ball will wind up.)

  If the umpires’ exit is nowhere near the winning team’s dugout, you’ll have to pick one spot over the other. Whenever I’m forced to choose, I usually go for the dugout when the visiting team wins; it’s too noisy and crowded otherwise. The advantage of choosing the dugout is that the opportunities keep on coming. After the initial horde of players and coaches clears the field, the unused relief pitchers (along with the bullpen coach and bullpen catcher) will be walking in from the bullpen. Move to the outfield end of the dugout—that’s where they’ll enter—and if one of them has a ball, try to be the first fan to ask for it. Shout his name before he crosses the foul line. Make him decide as early as possible that he should throw it to you. (If you happen to be in the bleachers when the game ends, try to get the relievers to toss you a ball before they make the trek toward the dugout. I’ve gotten several balls like this. It’s a solid option.)

  Once all the players and coaches are gone, the ushers will probably tell you that it’s time to go home. Humor them. Make it look like you’re leaving. Head for the concourse. Move toward the exit if they happen to be watching you, but don’t leave the stadium until security kicks you out.7 In the meantime, consider every possible place where a ball could be hiding. There might be a BP home run ball in the bushes in front of the batter’s eye or a scuffed warm-up ball tucked underneath the bench in one of the bullpens. Go investigate, and if you’re lucky enough to spot one, stay calm. Try to snag it with your glove trick or get one of the groundskeepers to retrieve it for you. I said it before, and I’ll say it again: anything’s possible.

  1 At many stadiums (including Rogers Centre), the field level is known as the “100 Level,” the second deck is called the “200 Level,” and so on.

  2 It happened on July 28, 2009. Nationals versus Brewers. Top of the fourth inning. No outs. 1-1 pitch from Carlos Villanueva. Go look for the footage on MLB.com.

  3 The $200,000 offer came from Todd McFarlane—the same collector who ended up paying $3.005 million for McGwire’s 70th home run ball of the season. Grass, unfortunately, turned it down and sent the ball to auction, where it sold for $50,000. As for homer number 70, do you want to guess what the Cardinals offered to Phil Ozersky, the fan who snagged it? C’mon, think big. We’re talking about the most valuable baseball in history. Ready? The team offered him a signed bat, a signed ball, and a signed jersey. Yeah, thanks. (Naturally, there were people who criticized Ozersky for selling the ball.) Deni Allen, the fan who snagged McGwire’s 60th long ball of the season, returned it for a signed ball, two signed bats, two season tickets, and the chance to take BP with the team.

  4 If you ever snag an important ball, you should immediately ask for an authenticator. There are at least two at every game, but they work so covertly that some ushers and security guards won’t know what you’re talking about. If that happens, keep asking. Tell them to call their supervisor. Then tell the supervisor to call his supervisor. You might get weird looks—these people might not realize that a baseball is worth all the fuss—but don’t give up. If you leave without getting the ball authenticated, you’ll never be able to prove that it’s the ball. When a player is on the verge of hitting an ultra-valuable home run, the balls get marked with serial numbers. Then they get put into play sequentially by the home plate umpire and tracked by MLB representatives, so no one can make a phony claim about snagging one.

  5 You never know when a valuable ball will land in yo
ur lap. In 2007, after Rockies shortstop Troy Tulowitzki turned the 13th unassisted triple play in major league history, his teammate Todd Helton absentmindedly tossed the ball into the crowd. The following season, Indians second baseman Asdrubal Cabrera turned a triple play of his own and made the same mistake. And let’s not forget Phillies second baseman Mickey Morandini, the pioneer of triple-play brain-farts. When he turned one in 1992, he dropped the ball on the mound as he jogged off the field—and no one noticed. “That was stupid on my part,” he later told the Associated Press. “It was probably hit as a foul ball to some fan.”

  6 I know I’ve mentioned lots of stuff that you should bring to the game, but there’s one more item that could come in handy: Major League Baseball’s official umpire roster. Keep a copy with you at all times—you can find it online by searching for “MLB Umpire Roster”—and you’ll be able to identify the home plate ump if you miss his name when it’s announced. In case you never noticed, umpires have uniform numbers too.

  7 In most cities, that’ll take half an hour; in New York, it’s like two minutes.

  CHAPTER 13

  TOP 10 LISTS AND OTHER THINGS OF INTEREST

  TOP 10 BALLHAWKS OF ALL TIME

  Most dictionaries define “ballhawk” as an athlete who plays good defense and handles the ball well. There’s no telling when this word was first used to describe ball-snagging baseball fans, but one thing is certain: the mere mention of it makes some people uneasy. Given that a hawk is a predatory animal, and that maniacs in the stands occasionally trample little kids, it’s not really surprising. But the fact is, experienced ballhawks are much more likely to hand your kid a baseball than to steal one from him. And when it comes to the most accomplished ballhawks of all time, you’re often dealing with the most knowledgeable and well-respected fans in the stadium—guys who’ve been going to games for decades, who hang out with the players, who know the clubhouse attendants, who serve as the watchdogs of the bleachers and the unofficial historians of the sport. And yet, despite all their TV appearances, they remain largely unknown. Here, then, for the first time ever, is a collection of interviews with the top 10 ballhawks of all time: