Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, August 8, 1993 TAG: 9308080050
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: E6 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: MICHAEL BAMBERGER KNIGHT-RIDDER NEWSPAPERS
DATELINE: WILMINGTON, DEL. LENGTH: Long
Nobody would ever confuse the play of the Blue Rocks with the play of the Orioles or the Phillies. Only three or four of the 25 Blue Rocks players are likely ever to make it to the major leagues. A good Class A baseball team plays at about the same level as a very good college team. No ground ball hit in this league of grass infields can ever be considered truly routine.
Still, fans are flocking to the ballpark for each of the 70 home games. They are lured by the chance to see a future big-leaguer, by the value, by the handouts and by the goofy gimmicks.
The crowd stands and cheers until the game's first strike is thrown. All night long, you see fans trying to catch, hit and throw baseballs, hoping to win potato chips, hamburgers and gift certificates from a bank. One night, Andy Stewart, the bald catcher who is the team's unofficial barber, treated the winner of a contest called "Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow" to a haircut on the dugout roof.
Each night before the start of the eighth inning, there is a bizarre competition known as "Dizzy Bat Races," in which two contestants place their foreheads on the knob of a bat, spin about 20 times, then attempt to make a straight dash to a finish line. In the middle of the sixth, Rocky Bluewinkle, the team's antlered mascot, leads a line dance through the stands.
To entertain fans, the Blue Rocks have brought in the Phillie Phanatic, fireworks, Max Patkin and the Famous Chicken. To draw fans, the Blue Rocks have given away magnetic schedules, bats, jerseys, pennants, batting helmets and seat cushions. Recently, they gave away baseball gloves.
An hour before the first fan came through the gate, Frank Boulton, the chairman of the Blue Rocks, was darting about the team's offices underneath the stands in sockless loafers, yanking on the fingers of one of the gift gloves, saying, "Not too pleased with this."
Boulton is a hyperkinetic 42-year-old Long Islander: He's a Wall Street bond trader and investment banker, a co-owner of the Class AA Albany-Colonie Yankees, a husband, a father of two daughters and a leading YMCA fund-raiser.
"Eight-inch fingers; they're supposed to be 10-inch," said Boulton, a former high school catcher who broke his neck as a senior on a squeeze play.
Boulton tossed the glove on a desk and shook his head. He had bought more than 1,000 of them. "When I give out a seat cushion, it's a `good' cushion," he said.
Boulton was a central player in the group that brought the Blue Rocks to Wilmington in April, returning professional baseball here for the first time since 1952. He organized a complex deal that involved more than $10 million, both public and private, and a small war of political machinations within professional baseball, the city of Wilmington and the state of Delaware.
The Royals own the players. The city owns the stadium. Boulton and his partners - including Bud Harrelson, a former New York Mets manager who is the Blue Rocks' president - own the franchise. Their job is to fill the seats, ranging in price from $2 to $6.
On any given night, about half the seats are filled with children, 12- and 13-year-olds who seek autographs from players about 10 years older.
"Watch this," said Marty Kirk, 14, as he waited with a throng for the signatures of ballplayers making roughly $1,100 a month. He looked on gleefully. "Everyone's going to try to get No. 31 - and he's a batboy!"
A little later Marty called out to Tom Smith, a promising Blue Rocks outfielder. "Hey, Tom," the boy yelled from 20 yards away. "Are you going to sign at the end of the game?" Smith looked up, nodded and pointed to his postgame signing spot. In Class A ball, players still respond to their shouted name.
A lot of things happen within the world of the Blue Rocks that you wouldn't see in the majors.
The Blue Rocks' shortstop, Mike Guerrero, and his wife, Larissa, and infant son live rent-free with David Sokolowski, an engineer who helped build the stadium, and his wife, Christine.
"Everybody's so nice here," Larissa Guerrero said Friday night, sitting in the stands with her baby and Christine Sokolowski. "I've been to many places for baseball, but no place is like this."
Gary Caraballo, a third baseman from Puerto Rico, lives with four other Spanish-speaking players - Raul Gonzalez, Francisco Mendoza, Francisco Baez and Dario Perez - in a three-bedroom, $570-a-month apartment. None of the roommates has a car. "We just ask for rides," Caraballo said. "We don't have a problem."
Despite their relative impoverishment, the players are treated as celebrities when they go to Bottlecaps, a local pub.
The Blue Rocks have a 24-year-old director of ticket operations, Kevin Grzanka, who also helps in public relations. He's an executive. But when the field needs to be covered, he's often on the diamond as the first raindrops fall, pulling on the tarpaulin. "That's something you don't see at the major-league level," Grzanka said.
When five errors were committed in the first two innings in a game against the Salem Buccaneers, Grzanka said kindly, "You see guys who are a little bit more human at this level."
"Boot City," said Craig Bailey, the team's director of finance, who does not share Grzanka's professional obligation to generosity.
Bailey is the team's accounting department, which means he knows how the $15 Blue Rocks T-shirts are selling at the stadium's air-conditioned gift store, and how the $25 Blue Rocks sweat shirts are faring, and whether the $20 Blue Rocks caps are moving. He knows the sales figures for beer, hot dogs and chili. He knows how many of the "sky" boxes - they're about 50 feet above the field - are leased.
Bailey used to work in a bank; he used to work at an accounting firm. He used to make more money. But he's never enjoyed his work more.
Despite the booted balls and the folksy ambiance and the low salaries, there is a hint of the big-time at Judy Johnson Field.
The Blue Rocks' clubhouse is carpeted and plush. Games are carried on the radio. The Wilmington News-Journal has a writer assigned to the team.
The Blue Rocks have been winning more often than not, but on this night they lost to the Bucs. The turning point came in the bottom of the sixth with the score tied at 1. Blue Rocks outfielder Hugh Walker was trying to beat a throw home, but he didn't slide or barrel over the catcher. He was out.
Five thousand fans filed out of the stadium. A girl beat the pocket of her new glove. In the parking lots of the Vet after a Phillies loss, you hear yelling, you see urgent car-phone calls to WIP, the local radio station. The Blue Rocks had been defeated, but on the faces of the exiting fans you saw no hint of worry. Professional baseball took a long road trip away from Wilmington and the fans are grateful for its return.
by CNB