Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: THURSDAY, March 9, 1995 TAG: 9503090093
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: B1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: ASSOCIATED PRESS
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
It sure doesn't look like the major-league baseball.
No, not when pitchers are gladly signing autographs in the bullpen during games. Not when hitters hustle to first base on walks. Not when tickets cost $1, not when scorecards are given away.
One week into this new brand of baseball and it's hard to tell exactly what it looks like.
``I don't think anyone is sure,'' said Bob Reasonover, a Texas Rangers scout. ``Maybe Double-A ball, I guess. But I can't really say yet.''
There are replacement groupies, working around the dugouts. There are replacement umpires, working in place of the locked-out regular umps. The Detroit Tigers and Toronto have replacement managers. The Blue Jays are preparing a replacement park for the regular season. The Baltimore Orioles don't even have a team.
The skill level, at least on the field, certainly isn't big-league.
Even though the number of errors in early exhibitions this season is equal to past springs, the ball always seems to be bouncing - on pitches, on throws, on grounders that just won't stay in gloves. Then again, Miguel Sabino of the Rangers had a reason - he had to borrow a left-handed mitt to play first base.
Plus, the ball doesn't ever seem to go very fast. Line drives rarely reach the warning track, relays from the outfield take more time to arrive. Lou Piniella, the Seattle Mariners' manager, complained his pitchers weren't popping their fastballs, claiming they were so slow the radar gun couldn't clock them.
No, spring training sure doesn't sound the same this year.
Not when Derek Henderson of the replacement Blue Jays is introduced by public-address announcers as ``Rickey Henderson.'' Not when the flagship radio stations of the New York Yankees and New York Mets refuse to broadcast a game between the teams.
Besides, what's there to say? With the labor situation so uncertain, it's hard to tell whether these replacements will be around on Opening Day. And, it's more difficult to say where some of them came from, although Italy, Taiwan and slow-pitch softball leagues are among the places.
``I'm finding that I'm having to do a lot more preparation than I've ever done before,'' said Harry Kalas, a Philadelphia Phillies broadcaster. ``I got here this morning at 9:30, just so I could start looking up background material. It's not easy.''
It doesn't sound the same in the clubhouse, either.
Players thank the locker room attendants for providing food. Managers suggest their players sign autographs for anyone who wants one. Players sit around before and after games to talk about their love of baseball, not about salaries and strikes.
There are some familiar sights, sort of.
There's Pete Rose, Ted Williams and Paul Blair playing in various camps. In order, that's the son of the career hits leader, a career minor-leaguer and the son of the former Gold Glove outfielder.
There's Oil Can Boyd, Guillermo ``Willie'' Hernandez and 48-year-old reliever Pedro Borbon, all of them the real thing. Too real, maybe.
So far, the fans have been reluctant to buy it. A couple of crowds, so to speak, have been under 400. In Bradenton, Fla., the people were so spread out at a Pittsburgh game that a young fan got two foul balls in the same half-inning.
The Phillies offered a free hot dog or soda. Jim Bowden, Cincinnati's general manager, personally thanked fans for coming. Outside the Reds' park in Plant City, Fla., the 50-cent scorecards were handed out for nothing, but there were no names or numbers inside them.
``Can't tell the players, even with a scorecard,'' a vendor said.
The same day, the short-handed Reds swung a five-for-none swap with the Indians, prompting Cincinnati manager Davey Johnson to remark, ``Cleveland got the better of the deal. They didn't get anybody.''
Actually, the Indians received future considerations, whatever that may mean this strange spring.
``What would future considerations for a replacement player be?'' asked Mike Curtis, a pitcher involved in the swap. ``Maybe they'll get two dozen baseballs for me.''
by CNB