Homestand

BY KEVIN KERNAN

Baseball is about community. That is how it became America’s game.

And that is what inspired Will Bardenwerper to write Homestand: Small Town Baseball and the Fight for the Soul of America, a book I urge every baseball fan to read.

This book is not just about baseball and what happened to the Batavia Muckdogs after they were eliminated as a Short-Season A major league affiliate, it is about the love of the game that people like Rob Manfred will never understand.

This book should be getting more attention, especially from baseball writers, if they do not mind upsetting Manfred and his Minions.

Homestand is published by Doubleday and is the best baseball book I have read this year. Bardenwerper is not just a writer, he served as an Airborne Ranger-qualified infantry officer in Iraq and was awarded a Combat Infantryman Badge and Bronze Star. He also played baseball at Princeton for two years and has an M.A. from Johns Hopkins University.

“The more I studied the economics of baseball,’’ Bardenwerper wrote, “and as I absorbed the infuriating news of MLB’s decision to strip forty-two communities of their minor league teams, the harder it was for me to recapture the naïve innocence of a fandom undisturbed by an understanding of the organization’s cold-blooded business decisions that are at odds with the sport’s carefully cultivated image of Americana.’’

Here is what Ron Shelton said about Homestand, a comment that got me interested in reading the book. Shelton, of course, was the director of Bull Durham and author of The Church of Baseball. His 1988 film created a rebirth in minor league baseball.

“This much needed book both celebrates the significant social role played by minor league baseball in small town America for over a century, and more critically, eviscerates Major League Baseball’s greedy dismantling of this unique institution. Owners pay hundreds of millions of dollars to their stars but refuse to pay a pittance to the teams that develop them,’’ Shelton wrote.

Getting rid of the affiliated teams while trying to grow the game is some unique business plan, Rob the Eliminator.

Noted Bardenwerper: “What is baseball? Is it really our ‘National Pastime,’ an enduring slice of Americana, as the powers-that-be have marketed it for decades? Or is it – as the decisions made by MLB’s owners and Commissioner Rob Manfred’s front office would suggest – just a business, where efficiency and profits drive all decisions? Does an enterprise that purports to be part of the fabric of America have a responsibility to prevent that fabric from fraying?

“This isn’t just a story about baseball,’’ he added. “This is a story about America, and where we go from here. We have long lamented the closing of the mills and factories in these small and midsize cities all over the country. Now the ballpark, that friendly gathering place were relationships are nourished over the course of summers in the grandstands is under siege. Are we going down the road where MLB simply snuffs out (or private equity buys up, or market forces destroy) the local purveyors of baseball across the country? Many of these places have been on the ropes for a long time. These closures would inevitably result in one fewer place for people to go to enjoy a sense of fraternity in an otherwise increasingly partisan, digitally connected world, a world accelerating toward physical and psychic isolation, selective screens replacing lively bleachers.

“Maybe a cure to some of what ails us can be discovered in the stands of Dwyer Stadium in Batavia, New York.’’

Bardenwerper brings these people to life by getting to know them as part of his baseball family.

Batavia was the place where the New York-Penn League had been established in 1939. Most recently the Muckdogs were New York-Penn League home to the Marlins, Cardinals and Phillies. In 2007 the hitting coach was Mike Shildt, who now manages the Padres. Manfred’s contraction ended Batavia association with pro players. It now plays in the Perfect Game Collegiate Baseball League; these are the collegiate Muckdogs.

Bardenwerper decided to spend a year in those stands at Dwyer Stadium and in the town of Batavia, becoming a season ticket holder and was granted full access to all portions of the ballclub from ownership Robbie and Nellie Nichols.

His journey brings the reader into the heartbeat of small-town America and those dedicated fans who fall in love with the game of baseball.

What I like most about the book, after having visited so many ballparks across America, and knowing the mechanics of how a ballclub is run, is how Bardenwerper brings out the personalities of Muckdogs baseball. For example, the underappreciated minor league clubhouse man who works the longest of hours but does the job with care and skill, and a work ethic that is difficult to find now in a country where so many young people want to be “influencers’’ as they come out of college with degrees that don’t transfer into working America.

Bardenwerper brings these people to life by getting to know them as part of his baseball family.

“And so, I shelled out $99 for my own 2022 Batavia Muckdogs season ticket,’’ Bardenwerper wrote. “I wanted to find out for myself what we, as a country, risked losing, and whether there was any chance it might be saved.’’

He found out.

After reading the book I spoke to Bardenwerper at length about the people he met, the complete blue collar Batavia experience here at The Story.

“Never, ever, ever have I seen a business entity decide to reduce its entry point when it’s trying to grow,’’ Bardenwerper told BallNine of baseball’s decision to eliminate so many minor league teams. “If you look at the book in total, I would say only 25 to 30 percent of the material is on the field … where I really focus my attention is on the community, in the bleachers and what this team and what this ballpark means to the people who live in Batavia and really to the people who go to these kinds of games all across the country.’’

That is key. This is not just a book about a town in Western New York, it could be Baseball Anywhere, USA. Bardenwerper hangs out in the community, at the local brewery Eli Fish, and the coffee shop, Pub Coffee Hub.

Every minor league ballpark – affiliated or non-affiliated – has an Erik Moscicki, the Muckdogs clubhouse manager.

“Erik is in his mid-20s, a lifelong Batavia native, loves sports, was born with a little bit of a physical handicap that prevented him from maybe progressing as far as he would have liked as an athlete. But he’s continued to serve his community as a coach for the local high school hockey teams, and also as a clubhouse manager for the Muckdogs. He works, I mean, it’s impossible to really describe how hard he works to do that job. He is in there to about two in the morning, most nights, cleaning every single uniform by hand, which is way above and beyond what he’s expected to do.’’

All for the love of the game.

Homestand takes us into the homes and lives of fans Bill Kauffman, local author, former Muckdogs board member and Joe and Sandra Kauffman, Bill’s parents. Joe is a former Muckdogs batboy who has been going to games since the 1940s.

Meet Betsy Higgins and Ginny Wagner, best friends from Buffalo who attend every Muckdogs game and Cathy Preston, trivia fanatic who keeps score at every game. Dr. Ross Fanara, octogenarian season ticket holder and his wife Shirley, raise two great-grandchildren who come to the games. There is Dave Fisher, Gulf War veteran who is the volunteer security guard at Dwyer Stadium. Owner Robbie Nichols is a former minor league hockey player of the “Slapshot’’ variety.

Bardenwerper digs into their human side and what makes them fans and lovers of baseball, fans that MLB basically told to get lost once they eliminated so many minor league franchises.

Another wise and caring fan is Ernie Lawrence, musician, hospice volunteer and rosary maker to pass the time at games.

You will learn about all these people and the players of the Muckdogs and their devoted manager Skip Martinez, plus YouTube Voice of the Muckdogs John Carubba and Paul Spiotta, the club’s public address announcer and a Strat-O-Matic wizard.

They are the heartbeat of America.

When Batavia was affiliated stars passed through.

“A lot of people will tell you about Ryan Howard, Chase Utley, guys like that when they were a Phillies affiliate,’’ Bardenwerper told me. Many others who made the majors started in Batavia, like Tommy Pham, Matt Carpenter and Michael King.

After the brutally cold winters, a beautiful summer night at Dwyer Stadium is baseball heaven. That’s how Betsy and Ginny’s friendship blossomed. “It’s kind of their summer ritual,’’ Bardenwerper said. “I talk about how the ballpark is this neat place that brings together all kinds of people from different backgrounds, different political allegiances and they can kind of put all that aside and come together as friends and neighbors and have a good time.’’

Here is something that I did not realize. By cutting those low-level, short-season teams, Bardenwerper said MLB teams were saving only about $700,000, which is less than the minimum salary.

This really is a power grab, sending players to teams’ spring training facilities where they can be monitored by metric readers while playing in complex leagues.

Here is something else that those minor leagues provide that Manfred and the owners have no clue about.

“Minor leagues historically have served a broader purpose than just identifying the next Bryce Harper,’’ Bardenwerper said. “Yes, that’s an important part of why they are around, but there is a 100-year history that connects these teams to their communities and in many cases that is where the future ambassadors of the game are developed. Sure a 35th round draft pick is not going to the majors, but he is the guy who is going to go back and coach American Legion Ball, coach high school ball, become a scout or a pro coach.

“There’s an entire ecosystem that was in place to help grow the sport, not to mention just the geographical diversity of the sport, providing a place for people to watch professionals play that otherwise wouldn’t have that chance if they don’t happen to live near a major city. So, there are all kinds of other elements to the minor leagues, not just the narrow vision of getting a handful of guys to the major leagues.’’

It is the experience of going to the ballpark and Bardenwerper wanted to talk a little bit more about Ernie Lawrence, the rosary maker.

“Every time you see him,’’ Bardenwerper explained, “he’d be sitting in the bleachers. He’d always have like a 500-page book of some sort in his lap, and he’d have a rosary. His hobby would be he’d create bead rosaries, and then he’d give them away. He gave one to me. I have it here. He just exuded a kind of calm and serenity you wanted to be around.’’

An experience Bardenwerper treasured because in the acknowledgements he said Ernie Lawrence passed away after the book was completed: “He was an extraordinary human being, and memories of his faith and the loving empathy for others he exhibited every day will always remain with me.’’

Simply being in the ballpark night after night, sunset after sunset was a gift.

“The real magic,’’ Bardenwerper wrote, “was found in the bleachers, among the fans … once again savoring the crepuscular hour together, the evening shadows advancing toward the infield as that familiar feeling of serenity slowly swept over us.’’