COLUMN: Do they even care about the game?

From Adam Barrist's "Scraps From the Plate," Fall '95 Six times during the course of the baseball season we are treated to mid-week, mid-day Phillies action at the Vet. These games are marketed as "Business Persons Specials," and are intended to give fans a chance to experience the game the way it was played prior to Thomas Edison. BPSs are a creation of the Phillies marketing staff to target the suit and tie folk. Six times a year, Mr. and Mrs. executive can leave the profit and loss statements, inventory lists and customer service inquiries behind and spend a few hours listening to the crack of horsehide off ash. Six times a year there will be a few empty seats, come lunchtime at Le Bec Fin, The Locust Club and The Union League. BPSs draw larger than normal crowds so the ploy by the Phillies must be a successful one, right? Well, this past Thursday I attended the Business Persons Special against the Cubs. The Cubs, are of course accustomed to daytime baseball during the working week, for they play very few games under the lights at "The Friendly Confines," Wrigley Field. As a matter of fact, the Cubs -- until a couple of years ago -- played all of their home games during the daylight hours. Taking advantage of the never-ending fringe benefits available to Summer Pennsylvanian columnists, I obtained a press pass prior to the game. With my key to the baseball world in hand, I trotted off to the Vet. First stop -- the parking lot. Stretched before me, as far as the eye could see were the "regulars" attending to pre-game festivities. The jolly tailgaters were clad in tee-shirts emblazoned with: Mc Donough's Irish Pub, and Vinnie's Sub Shop--4th and Oregon. Shorts with holes and paint speckles abounded. The steamy 80 degree temperature even prompted some to go shirtless. Most were in groups of five or six, none were without a barbecue and a cavernous tub of sub-premium American beer, e.g., Natural Light and Milwaukee's Best, at the center of activity. As I rode the press elevator I began to come to the realization that I had yet to spy a single "business type" on the premises. The only types of professionals I seemed to come upon were people who looked like they could have been plumbers or metal workers. Without demeaning the status of such blue collar workers, I could hardly believe that the sole, or even primary intention, of those individuals was to see a intensely contested baseball game. The majority of the fans which I had seen so far were out to get as loaded as they possibly could on the day which they decided to skip out of work. Where had all of the business people gone? They were probably doing business as usual. Before I could even take a taste of my first complimentary soda, the Cubs were on their way to a rally. On the first pitch of the game, newly acquired Brian McRae touched up Phils starter, Mike Williams, for a ground rule double into the left field corner. Rey Sanchez doubled him in and the Cubbies were off to a 1-0 lead. Being the superstitious fool that I am, I immediately sensed that my presence in the press box was detrimental to the play of the team. Even more pitiful was the fact that half of the expected crowd of 30,000 was not even in their seats to witness the early action. I guess that last six-pack of "The Beast" must have had to be killed before entering the park. What a shame, I thought. The stellar defensive play of the Phillies had prevailed to avert further damage in the 1st inning, and thousands of people hadn't seen it happen. They didn't see second baseman, Mickey Morandini grab a potential Texas League base hit in Gregg Jefferies' left field territory. This play meant a lot, for multiple runs surrendered in the 1st inning would certainly translate into an uphill climb for the rest of the game. It was clear that the early game heroics of certain Phils meant little to many of the business people. By the time the frolickers finally arrived, the Phils had taken a 3-1 lead. This seemed like a good time to temporarily abandon my throne atop the ivory tower. Doing my best Bill Conlin or Bill Lyon (take your pick), I descended in the press elevator from heaven to purgatory. The returning stench became all too familiar. However unpleasant it was to be amongst the public again, I had to understand and record the motivation for so many people to waste so perfect a day at the ballpark; a day when the Phils were prevailing early. I asked Kevin Flannagan, 26, of Millville, N.J. what his story was. He appeared to be in fine humor, but when I conducted my two second test of Phillies aptitude by asking him what the score of the game was, he indicated that he didn't know. I put two and a six-pack together, and opined that Mr. Flannagan's gleeful attitude might have been the result of consumption of copious amounts of alcohol, and not the success of the Phightin' Phils. I went out on a limb and flat out asked him how many beers he had had during the course of the day. He responded jovially, "I had a beer!?. Well, we killed two cases, but yous guys (gesturing to his six or seven friends) hogged it all!" The next person I questioned appeared that she might pass the aptitude test. She had adorned herself with Phillies regalia head to toe -- a cap, a jersey -- the whole nine yards. This fan identified herself as Rita Mancini of South Philadelphia. Ms. Mancini then continued, "I never miss a BPS, I love skippin' work to come to the game?" However, when asked if she knew the score of the game, Ms. Mancini confessed, "Ya' know, I don't even know! I've spent most of the time so far in the hot dog line!" A roar arose from the crowd to signify the end of the Cubs fifth inning. The self-declared loyal fan excused herself to find her seat. "Darren Daulton is coming up next inning and I love the sight of his butt." I didn't have the heart to tell her that Darren Daulton didn't start the game. Next up was Philadelphia Police officer Jay Bigle, of the 15th district. Officer Bigle was patrolling the 200 level concourse. He felt that the majority of the fans at the Business Persons Specials came to the game, "As an excuse to skip work and drink beers." He indicated that he had to break up a number of fights during the games. When I returned up to my helm once again, the Phillies were playing in a tie ball game in the bottom of the 8th. Darren Daulton came in to pinch hit with the bases loaded for catcher, Lenny Webster. When Daulton's name was echoed over the loudspeaker, the most raucous cheering of the game ensued. Somewhere below Rita Mancini is in love once again. Dutch steps up to the plate, wiggles the aforementioned caboose and K's in five pitches. Half of the stadium leaves ? with the bases loaded and one out! Long story short -- Kevin Stocker comes up next to hit a two run double. Heathcliff Slocumb comes on, in the top of the 9th and seals the victory. Kevin Flannagan goes home in a drunken stupor, and Rita Mancini is in dreamland. As I watched the crowd leave the Vet, I couldn't help but to wonder how many of them realized that good baseball had happened there, that day. Has baseball become a sideshow? It was then that I spied two young boys and their father. Both boys had on Phils caps and one was trailing peanuts down the ramp. They were excitedly babbling about the heroics of Kevin Stocker, "Heefcwiff Swocumm" and Daulton; not mentioning his butt once. Maybe civilization had been saved from the brink of disaster once more. That night as I readied myself for bed, I must admit I did give a backward glance in the mirror. Do you think that Rita and her friends could start showing up at the Penn Club Baseball games? ··· As of Tuesday night, the Phillies were on a five-game west coast skid, being swept by the Giants and losing the first two games of the Padres series ? Harry Kalas loved last week's installation of Scraps From the Plate, which featured a series of questions and answers with the Phillies broadcaster. Said Kalas, "Adam, you humbled me, Thank you."