Fanatics at the Mound

The ballpark’s two commentators are in heated conversation, debating the options for the home team, The Jonestown, Fanatics:

“Well Bill, I agree. That is indeed a poor name choice for a minor league baseball team, but that’s beside the point. The Fanatics have to pull something off here against the Hicksville Green Socks, or this game is over. It’s the bottom of the second and the Fanatics’ catcher is running out to the mound to discuss the situation.”

“Bob, it seems like the Fanatics are in trouble here; the bases are loaded and the pitcher, Ramsey, and the Fanatics’ catcher, Pohlner are going to have to do something or they’ll be massacred. Back to you Bob.”

“Poor choice of words there Bill. Well folks, it looks like Pohlner and Ramsey are deliberating behind their gloves. Let's see what they can come with to get out of this mess.”

“Hey, I know we forgot to plan where we were going to have dinner after the game tonight,” commented Pohlner to Ramsey, “but how does Taco Bell sound?

Ramsey frowned. “That sounds too spicy for me, man. Every dadgum time we eat there it upsets my stomach. What if we tried something lighter, like McDonalds or Wendy’s?”

“It's not looking good on the mound, Bill.”

“No it doesn’t, Bob. Ramsey seems to be in disagreement with Pohlner on what the next pitching maneuver should be. Ramsey is shaking his head ‘no’ to Pohlner. Folks, it seems like the two are in dispute about the current strategy.”

“Well Bill, they both must have made some type of agreement—Pohlner is trotting back to the plate.”

As Pohlner gets back to his position behind the batter, Umpire Veteto yells, “Play Ball!” Ramsey gets set, winds up, and throws the pitch.

“Strike three!” yells the umpire.

“Well folks, that concludes the third inning. Bob, I’m confused about what their disagreement was about there.”

“Well Bill, whatever pitching plan they agreed upon brought about the final out for this inning, resulting in the Green Sock’s throwing away their chance to get an early lead."

“Seems like the Green Socks drank the kool-aid on this one, right Bob?”

“Dang it, Bill.”

---

“It’s now the bottom of the fifth inning, folks. What do you think so far, Bob?”

“Well Bill, Ramsey has been pitching remarkably well since the third inning, causing the Fanatics to somehow gain a one run lead. But now there’s a problem on the field—only two outs, and the Green Socks have loaded second and third base. And now the Green Socks have their heavy hitter Winford up to the plate; he has a whopping .350 batting average and 35 home runs to his name this season alone.”

“Pohlner must have the same concerns, because he is running out to the mound once again—wait, what’s this?—the whole infield has converged to the center of the field for this one. Oh man, The Jonestown Fanatics are in for a world-ender here, Bob.”

“Bill, you have to stop.”

“Alright, here’s the plan,” said Ramsey to his teammates, “Pohlner and I have finally decided on meeting at McDonalds after the game, and I’d like all of you to join us so you can meet my fiancé, Judy.”

“Wow, man! When did that happen?” inquired the first baseman, Stidman.

“Actually proposed to her this past weekend.”

“Well, the fellas and I would love to meet the future Mrs. Ramsey,” replied Stidman. All of the infielders nodded in agreement.

“Gosh. Here comes Veteto,” interjected Pohlner in a hushed tone, “Let’s break this convo up and go back to our positions.”

With that, everyone gave a high five and return to their places.

“Well Bob, I am really impressed with Ramsey’s leadership here today. Under his organization and guidance, the Fanatics may yet be able to handle the Green Sock’s top slugger, Winford. We are witnessing a never before seen level of stratagem and planning here folks—I mean I don’t think I’ve seen anything like it since the People’s Temple in 1978, Bob. Ramsey winds up a fast ball, delivering it right down the middle striking Winford—not once; not twice; but three consecutive times! The crowd is going wild!! Can you believe it!—Wait, Bob? Where are you going? What do you mean you quit? Bob—Bob!”

---

“Welcome back folks, it's your host Bill here. Um, I’m alone now. It’s the bottom of the seventh inning and Ramsey has found himself in another situation. Bases are once again loaded with a full count and two outs. I wonder what Ramsey will do this time in order to get his team out of this predicament. This game could very well have a different outcome, folks. I mean, with one wrong pitch, the Fanatics may as well take cyanide, because this game will be over. Pohlner must also have the same thought, because once again he is going to the mound for the third time. Wait—what’s this? Pitching Coach Rowlett is taking a hand, calling for a time out and running to the mound.”

Coach Rowlett hustled to the mound to speak to Ramsey. There was a sense of urgency in his expression. As was customary, Ramsey and Pohlner covered their mouths with their gloves. Coach Rowlett stopped before the mound and looked at Ramsey with the face of a hurt puppy.

“I heard Stidman talking between innings about a-get-together after the game.” Coach Rowlett leaned and spat to conclude his statement.

Ramsey, unaware that his Coach was fishing for an invite just said, “Yep.”

“Um, what you guys getting together for?”

“I’m getting married, Coach. Just proposed to Judy this past weekend.”

“Oh.”

Ramsey just looked at his coach, whose face was contorted and red. An expression pressurized by Rowlett’s obvious want to fit in. Reminded Ramsey of Taco Bell and the day after.

“You okay, Coach? You look like you need some Pepto-Bismol.”

Coach Rowlett shook his head and spat, “Yeah, yeah. I’m alright. Um, do you mind, if I—uh, if I joined your little get-together after the game?”

Ramsey was perplexed by Coach Rowlett’s evident shame and decided to provide an antidote to his embarrassment: “I’d be honored for you to come Coach, and it would be a joy to introduce you to my bride to be.”

Pohlner interrupted again and pointed to ump Veteto, who was coming towards the mound once again.

“Hey, we got a game to play here. You all need to break up this little gathering, and get back to it,” grunted Veteto.

“Sorry ump, we were just talking about having dinner after the game,” replied Ramsey.

“Is that so?” replied Veteto, “Maybe I can join you fellas after the game?”

Ramsey, who never really liked Veteto’s calls, just said, “Sorry, I’m going to have to say no. There aren’t any more spots left at the restaurant that we reserved.”

Veteto raised his eyebrows and frowned with disgust.

“What do you mean, ‘there aren’t any more spots left at the restaurant’? I mean, what the heck kind of a restaurant did you reserve that can’t hold more than 25 people?”

Ramsey, knowing full well that McDonalds had a max occupancy of 150, just shrugged off the question.

“Uh, McDonalds,” blurted Pohlner.

This proclamation was met with Ramsey’s elbow thrown backward into Pohlner’s gut. Veteto’s face turned red, and an audible scowl crescendoed into a growl of rage under his Umpire’s mask.

“You’re out of here, Ramsey! Get off my field!”

Coach Rowlett became angry with Veteto, and seconds later he too was ejected from the game.

“Well folks, I wonder what's going on down there at the mound? It appears that Ramsey and the ump are really exchanging some heated words—oh what’s this? Coach Rowlett has also joined in the argument. You know what will happen next if this continues and they fail to choose their words carefully. Reminds me of that disagreement Congressman Leo Ryan had with Jim Jones—oh no, folks, it is not a good day to be a Jonestown Fanatic’s fan. Ramsey has just been ejected from the game, along with Coach Rowlett. Both Ramsey and Rowlett are being escorted off the field by the other umpires. Well, it looks like the Bench Coach is now calling in star relief pitcher Donahue to replace Ramsey. Hopefully Donahue will be able to finish the game for Ramsey effectively.”

---

“We are now at the bottom of the 9th inning. This game has definitely had an unusual twist of events for us so far. Hopefully there will be no more surprises or excitement in this game.

On the mound, Donahue turned as the crowd’s collective shock gesticulated into one loud gasp.

Wait a minute, I may have spoken too soon? A fan has jumped over the fence at the third base line and is running towards the mound. Donahue may be in danger. Security is now running onto the field and will shortly intercept the defiant fan in order to ensure the player’s safety.

The fan stopped before the mound to catch his breath, and said, “Hey Donahue, I'm Ramsey's brother Steven. This is kind of embarrassing, but I forgot where we were supposed to meet after the game tonight—you know, for his engagement party?”

“Your brother announced to all the guys that we were supposed to meet at McDonalds after the game, and he would introduce us to Judy then.”

“Sounds like a plan, stan,” replied Stephen with a wink. At about that time, security grabbed Steven by the arms and escorted him off the field.

“This game has been like no other that I’ve ever covered in all my years of broadcasting. The riotous fan has been escorted off the field by security, and it appears that Donahue is out of harm's way. Perhaps the fan had hostile feelings because his team was losing the game. Hopefully Donahue can finish this game without any more interruptions. You never know what might happen on a mound. Today, our audience has seen the most bizarre spectacle of events in history. Well, maybe not the most bizarre (here the commentator coughed the words ‘Jonestown Massacre’ under his breath). Can the Jonestown Fanatics garner the strikes necessary to beat the Green Socks? Hopefully Donahue still has his composure, let’s see if he can pitch well enough to bring this game to an end.”

A hush comes over the crowd. Donahue looks at Pohlner for a signal and nods after the catcher gives him the sign.

“Donahue winds up, throws his first pitch and it's a sinker for a strike! Donahue is getting ready for his second pitch—he throws a cutter across the plate for strike two! Donahue winds up, throws the ball across the inside corner, and the ump hesitates—but wait! Umpire Veteto is thinking. WHAT! The ump signals STRIKE 3!! The ball game is over folks, and somehow the Jonestown Fanatics pulled out the win! Talk about an upset, no one could have prophesied such a devastating turn of events, folks.”

Bill took off his broadcaster’s headset, exhaled a sigh of satisfaction at another day’s work, and stood up to leave the commentator’s box. On his way out, the CEO of the broadcasting station stopped him in the hallway, and said:

“Bill, you’re fired.”


By John (Jr.) Cravens

From: United States