World stops for 9 innings

By Bob Greene

BELOIT, Wis. -- "Happy Birthday, Shirley!" the homemade sign read. It was a long paper banner, being carried by two boys who couldn't have been more than 10 or 11. They were parading their sign all around Pohlman Field -- capacity 3,501 -- here the other night, one boy leading the other on the walkway between the first row of seats and the baseball diamond.

They were careful to keep the paper banner straight and unwrinkled. Every person at the game -- a Midwest League contest between the Beloit Snappers and the Fort Wayne Wizards -- saw the sign. But it was intended for one woman, and when the boys passed her she gave them a look that was half bashful, half pure delight.

To a visitor to Pohlman Field, sitting a few rows behind the woman, it appeared that she must have been the boys' grandmother. She -- and they -- seemed to be having a lovely evening. Even though rain clouds threatened in the sky, even though the results of this Class A minor league game would mean nothing to most people outside of Beloit and Fort Wayne, even though the Snappers trailed badly in the season standings, even though few of the young ballplayers on the field will ever make it to the majors.

"We want another one, just like the other one!" two women called in unison toward the diamond, after the Beloit pitcher had just fired a fastball past the Fort Wayne batter. A man of 60 or so rang his cowbell after most pitches; when a recording of "The Star Spangled Banner" had been played over Pohlman Field's loudspeaker system, the same man had stood and placed his hand over his heart and had sung every word.

On nights like this one, the value of minor league baseball becomes most evident. The minor leagues are joyous every evening. You don't have to know a thing about the teams to be entertained by the games; you don't have to care at all who wins and who loses. If you're in a town, and you see the minor league lights from the road, you can seldom go wrong by following those lights, buying a ticket, and spending a few hours on a summer evening in a place you've never been before and may never be again.

It's not that small-town life in America is trouble-free and always peaceful; no part of the country today can escape the things that have gone wrong, and some of the stories in the local paper here are as grim and dark as anything you'll find in New York or Los Angeles or Chicago. An 18-year-old man in a neighboring community is sentenced to prison for his involvement in a gang initiation in which 13- and 14-year-old girls are given the choice between having sex with members of the gang, or of being beaten. A couple reportedly recruit another man to have sex on videotape with the wife; the man allegedly then beats the husband and steals the couple's car, and is arrested. A man and the woman he lives with are arrested for allegedly abusing a 2-year-old boy who is taken to the Beloit Memorial Hospital emergency room.

So it's not that the night game between the Snappers and the Wizards is symbolic of a small-town world that is always happy. Rather, the minor league game -- the game itself, and all that goes with it -- is a remedy to life outside the walls of the ballpark. That's what baseball has always been -- a remedy, for a few hours. Yet in the major leagues these days, the news from the ballparks is often as acrimonious and dreary as anything you'll find on the front pages.

Not here. Not in the minors.

Between innings on this night, the Snappers' team mascot -- Snappy, a person dressed as a big green turtle -- runs a race around the bases with a boy of 5 or 6; Snappy falters, and the thrilled little boy wins. A teen-age girl selling soft drinks hands a cup of soda pop to an older woman who has bought it and says to the woman, "Did you get your hair done? It looks nice."

In a what's-in-the-box contest during a pitching change, a fan is asked to choose his prize: a Snappers baseball cap, or whatever is inside a closed cardboard box. The fan chooses the contents of the box. He wins a salt-and-pepper shaker set, and four tickets to tomorrow's game. He seems pleased that he took the chance. Coming soon to Pohlman Field: All Faiths Night, $1 off all ticket prices if you bring a church bulletin.

The contest on the field continues. The threatening clouds pass. The boys who had carried the "Happy Birthday, Shirley!" sign parade past the seats again. They have turned the sign over, and have written a new message on it. "Shirley's Buying at the Dairy Queen" the revised sign says. After the game, no doubt. Shirley indicates to the boys she'll be glad to do just that. But the game isn't over yet. No one wants it to be.

Chicago Tribune