Conference hydra::dave_barry

1042.0. "Marlins opening day 1997 (baseball)" by BOOKIE::chayna.zko.dec.com::manana::eppes (Nina Eppes) Mon Apr 07 1997 20:15

Dave Barry
April 2, 1997


It was a beautiful day to kick off the 1997 baseball season at Pro Player
Brand Of Undershorts Park. It was the kind of day that reminds you of the old
traditional baseball song:

So let's root, root, root for the home team

If they don't win

That's $89 million down the toilet.

These traditional words are appropriate, because during the off-season the
Marlins, trying to improve attendance, spent vast quantities of Wayne
Huizenga's personal money to acquire such big-name free agents as Bobby
Bonilla, Alex Fernandez, Joe Montana and Ty Cobb. Ticket sales are indeed up,
but get this: Even if the Marlins sell all their tickets this year, the club
is going to lose millions.

I am no financial genius, but it seems to me that it would have been more
economical for Wayne to keep his old team and simply pay fans to attend the
games. I don't know about you, but for a piece of $89 million, I'd be willing
to watch Charlie Hough pitch underhand. Of course Wayne would have to pay me
extra to root.

But as it stands now, Wayne is losing some serious money -- he is down to his
last nine helicopters -- and he is asking the Florida Legislature (motto: "We
Accept All Major Credit Cards") to give him a $60 million tax break so he can
renovate Undershorts Park. My feeling about that is, fine, but if we taxpayers
are going to help pay for the stadium, then we should get to play a more
active role in the game.

Specifically, there should be electronic trapdoors on the field, connected to
buttons on the armrest of every seat in the stadium. Whenever a batter took
too long to get ready, or a manager started strolling out to the pitcher's
mound to bring the game to a halt for what seems like 45 minutes, impatient
fans could press their buttons, and if a sufficient number of buttons -- I am
thinking 25 -- got pressed, suddenly WHOOMP, a door would open up, and the
offending player or manager would disappear. That would speed up the game.

Tuesday's opener, however, was played at the current standard major-league
pace, which is approximately two innings per day. Nobody seemed to mind,
though: The crowd was in a festive mood, with many fans wearing officially
licensed Marlins hats, jerseys, shirts, pants, protective cups, etc.

This gives me another idea: Since the fans are coming to the games dressed as
players, why not have the players play in civilian clothing? Imagine the
possibilities! ("He's rounding first. . . . He's gonna try for two. . . . NO,
WAIT! CONINE HAS HIM BY THE NECKTIE!")

Actually, there was plenty of excitement Tuesday, starting with the
spectacular pregame ceremonies, which were highlighted by the arrival of the
U.S. Navy SEALS 15-person combat parachute team, the Leap Frogs, who jumped
out of a plane (with parachutes), landed on the field, and -- realizing they
were seriously outgunned by the South Florida public -- surrendered.

After that, the Marlins played the Chicago Cubs. I shall now give you a
summary of the game using baseball "lingo": In the second inning, a Marlin
named "Moises" blasted a four-bagger so hard he nearly tore the horsehide off
the pigskin. Also there were several twin killings, some Texas leaguers, a
bunch of frozen ropes, a couple of cans of corn and at least one portside
twirler.

In the end, the Marlins kicked butt, and the crowd loved it. In fact, maybe
Wayne should buy the Cubs, too, so the Marlins can play them every day.
Because we South Florida fans have very high standards; we're going to be very
disappointed if this team does not go all the way. And down here, when we say
"go all the way," we mean only one thing. That's right: When you say Miami,
you're talkin' Super Bowl.