A Humble Suggestion For Albert's 700th Ball

This is a rewrite of a piece I wrote when Barry Bonds broke Hank Aaron's record. The concept is still the same for Mr. Pujols, though.

Act I, Scene I

At RISE: A young man in a Dodgers jersey stands in front of a boardroom filled with middle-aged men and women in suits. He shifts from foot to foot nervously and holds something tightly in his right hand. A distinguished man at the head of the table clears his throat.

DISTINGUISHED MAN: So, you say you have a proposal for us?

BALLCATCHER: I do. I'd like you to rent me and this baseball for one year.

(general murmurs and quiet laughs from around the room)

DM: Why would we do that, Mr. Ballcatcher? We are already well regarded in St. Louis, and Anheuser-Busch's name has been mentioned in the news in the last seven days more than Post Malone and Taylor Swift combined.

We've also discussed the possibility of buying the ball from you and displaying it in our corporate headquarters, but have rejected that notion. We feel our customers would view it as wasteful spending.

BALLCATCHER: I'm sure that's true, sir, but hear me out. What I'm proposing is a goodwill tour for the ball and myself, one that would generate immeasurable publicity and goodwill for Anheuser-Busch at a limited cost -- a cost of $2M.

(Startled grunts from those assembled. Murphy holds up the ball and the room settles)

DM: Mr. Ballcatcher, did you think we didn't research the value of the ball? Todd McFarlane's ridiculous $3M purchase of Mark McGwire's 70th is a thing of the past. We feel you'd be lucky to get $500,000 for that.

BALLCATCHER: I think I'd get somewhere in that vicinity, sir, and if you accept my proposal, that's exactly what I'll get. But I'm not selling you the ball, as I said. I'm renting it -- and myself -- to you. For one year.

See, this whole idea of putting the ball up for auction makes me uncomfortable. I know it's the best way to get the most value for the ball -- but what happens to it then? I'm a fan of the game, not some huckster. I want people to be able to enjoy it in at least some small part the way I have for the past week.

That's why I came to you. For $2M you get the ball -- and me -- for one year. We tour the U.S., Japan, Sierra Leone, wherever your public relations staff says we should go. We make a roadshow of it -- let people see the ball, get close to the ball. Maybe the Hall of Fame would get involved, make a History of the Homer caravan. Ruth's bat, Baker's cleats, Reggie's wristbands. And on the side of the semi is "Proudly Presented by Anheuser-Busch."

At the outset, every newspaper and network in the country, maybe the world, would run a story about how Anheuser-Busch is taking the ball around the world. Then each city's papers and stations would cover the events. You'd get one full year's worth of great publicity.

DM: Intriguing. But you said you wouldn't be selling us the ball. So you'd keep it?

BALLCATCHER: No sir. At the end of the tour, you'd have two choices -- donate the ball to the Hall of Fame, or present it to Pujols before the last home game of the 2024 season.

It's the whole reason I'm doing this. I'd like to get some financial security out of this -- I'd be foolish not to do so. But I can also help out baseball, get the ball in the hands of someone who will deserve it and share it, and possibly help you out in the deal. Where's the downside?

DM: Why $2M? I thought you said you'd receive around $500,000 if we agreed to your proposal?

BALLCATCHER: I would. You would also sign two cheques before I start the tour -- one in the amount of $500,000 to the charity of Albert's choice, and the other for $1M to the Negro League Baseball Players Association.

I do have one other request, though.

DM: What is that?

BALLCATCHER: I'd like a job in your marketing department.

DM: (shakes head)

Pretty slick.

(turns to rest of room)

What do you all think?

(heads nod throughout room)

Son, I think we have a deal.

(lights fade and curtain closes)

Act I, Scene I

At RISE: A young man in a Mets uniform stands in front of a boardroom filled with milled-aged men and women in suits. He shifts from foot to foot nervously and holds something tightly in his right hand. A distinguished man at the head of the table clears his throat.

DISTINGUISHED MAN: So, you say you have a proposal for us?

MURPHY: I do. I'd like you to rent me and this baseball for one year.

(general murmurs and quiet laughs from around the room)

DM: Why would we do that, Mr. Murphy? We already pay a princely sum to have the naming rights to the stadium where Mr. Bonds hit No. 756. PacBell's name has been mentioned in the news in the last seven days more than Lindsay Lohan and Paris Hilton combined.

We've also discussed the possibility of buying the ball from you and displaying it in our corporate headquarters, but have rejected that notion. We feel our customers would view it as wasteful spending.

MURPHY: I'm sure that's true, sir, but hear me out. What I'm proposing is a goodwill tour for the ball and myself, one that would generate immeasurable publicity and goodwill for Pacific Bell at a limited cost -- a cost of $2M.

(Startled grunts from those assembled. Murphy holds up the ball and the room settles)

DM: Mr. Murphy, did you think we didn't research the value of the ball? Todd McFarlane's ridiculous $3M purchase of Mark McGwire's 70th is a thing of the past. We feel you'd be lucky to get $500,000 for that.

MURPHY: I think I'd get somewhere in that vicinity, sir, and if you accept my proposal, that's exactly what I'll get. But I'm not selling you the ball, as I said. I'm renting it -- and myself -- to you. For one year.

See, this whole idea of putting the ball up for auction makes me uncomfortable. I know it's the best way to get the most value for the ball -- but what happens to it then? I'm a fan of the game, not some huckster. I want people to be able to enjoy it in at least some small part the way I have for the past week.

That's why I came to you. For $2M you get the ball -- and me -- for one year. We tour the U.S., Japan, Sierra Leone, wherever your public relations staff says we should go. We make a roadshow of it -- let people see the ball, get close to the ball. Maybe the Hall of Fame would get involved, make a History of the Homer caravan. Ruth's bat, Baker's cleats, Reggie's wristbands. And on the side of the semi is "Proudly Presented by PacBell".

At the outset, every newspaper and network in the country, maybe the world, would run a story about how PacBell is taking the ball around the world. Then each city's papers and stations would cover the events. You'd get one full year's worth of great publicity.

DM: Intriguing. But you said you wouldn't be selling us the ball. So you'd keep it?

MURPHY: No sir. At the end of the tour, you'd have two choices -- donate the ball to the Hall of Fame, or present it to Bonds before the last home game of the 2008 season.

It's the whole reason I'm doing this. I'd like to get some financial security out of this -- I'd be foolish not to do so. But I can also help out baseball, get the ball in the hands of someone who will deserve it and share it, and possibly help you out in the deal. Where's the downside?

DM: Why $2M? I thought you said you'd receive around $500,000 if we agreed to your proposal?

MURPHY: I would. You would also sign two cheques before I start the tour -- one in the amount of $500,000 to the charity of Barry's choice, and the other for $1M to the Negro League Baseball Players Association.

I do have one other request, though.

DM: What is that?

MURPHY: I'd like a job in your marketing department.

DM: (shakes head)

Pretty slick.

(turns to rest of room)

What do you all think?

(heads nod throughout room)

Son, I think we have a deal.

(lights fade and curtain closes)

In the aftermath of last night's drive-by shouting by New York Yankee third baseman Alex Rodriguez, opinions seem to be wildly mixed on the legality and morality of the play.

In case you missed it, the Yankees led the Blue Jays 7-5 with two outs in the top of the ninth inning. With runners at first and second, Jorge Posada skied one to the right of third base. Howie Clark, appearing in his first major-league game of the season, camped under it, and then quickly ducked away as Rodriguez passed behind him.

An absolutely livid John McDonald, the Blue Jays shortstop, immediately began yelling at Rodriguez -- who stood at third smirking and, according to at least one report, pushed away third-base umpire Chad Fairchild when he appeared to disagree with the play -- and most of the Toronto bench came onto the top steps of the dugout or the field. Manager John Gibbons came out to ask for a ruling and argue with the crew chief but got nowhere.

But why didn't he? Rule 7.08 from the Official Rules of Major League Baseball states:

Any runner is out when --
(b) He intentionally interferes with a thrown ball; or hinders a fielder attempting to make a play on a batted ball

That's not particularly ambiguous to me. ARod is running from second to third and yells something at Clark as he passes behind him. After viewing the play repeatedly, I'm almost certain it was "Mine!", but that's not material here. Rodriguez attempted to hinder the fielder, he succeeded and he should have been called out.

There's no question as to the sportsmanship of the play. As a former high school player and coach, I know most leagues up through American League have rules forbidding yelling or clapping on the basepaths. Young players are quickly discouraged from attempting to distract the fielder, as it's a good way for the fielder to end up getting beaned with the ball.

How often does it happen in pro ball? Well, you could ask Clark:

"I was expecting McDonald to make the catch," the third baseman said. "I have been playing professional baseball for 16 years and never saw that."

Or you could ask consummate professional Matt Stairs. The journeyman was a bit less tactful, calling it "a horseshit play" and saying if Rodriguez's teammates gave no comment, that was their way of saying they didn't appreciate it either.

Yankee shortstop Derek Jeter, incidentally, didn't want to comment.

Some of the fault lies with McDonald, who as the shortstop should have called immediately for the ball. But there has also been blame assign to Clark for not sticking with the pop-up, and that's way off base.

Assume, as Clark did, that the person loudly yelling "Mine!" in your ear is McDonald. If you don't clear the way and you collide with McDonald, it's your fault for not yielding to the shortstop on a ball that could easily have been his.

Finally, Rodriguez said similar things happened to him "three or four times a week." That would seem unlikely. As Clark said, it's not something he'd ever experienced. Blue Jays slugger Troy Glaus said it had never happened to him in 30 years of baseball.


It's more likely Rodriguez either was read the riot act or given the cold shoulder in the Yankee locker room after the game -- not that he isn't use to that -- and felt compelled to concoct something to make himself look better.

The most unfortunate victim of the whole situation was pitcher Brian Wolfe. Making his major-league debut, he ended up being charged with two hits and a run when he induced a pop-up from Posada that should have ended the threat.

It was also unfortunate for Gibbons, who may have told a more experienced pitcher to buzz the tower of the next hitter as a way of expressing the displeasure of the Jays. But then, it's tough to justify beaning Giambi in retaliation when ARod's teammates seem to dislike him as much as the Jays do right now.

No, Toronto will have to wait to extract its measure of revenge until the next meeting between the two teams on July 16.

Well, that or just hang out outside strip clubs and watch for Rodriguez leaving with women other than his wife.

Take a second and hop over to Vote4Sal.com, where you can find out about getting Toronto's mustachioed wonder into this season's All-Star game!

You don't think a career .219 hitter deserves a trip to San Francisco? ESPN.com's Jeff Pearlman would disagree with you, and I'd wholeheartedly concur, especially as Sal's from Chicago and played at the University of Evansville.

Go, Sal, Go!