On Sunday afternoon against the Blue Jays, Miguel Cabrera became the newest member of an elite baseball club by hitting his 500th regular-season home run, making him just the 28th player to reach that mark in MLB history; he joins Albert Pujols as the only active players on the list. (He’s also the first-ever Tiger and first ever Venezuelan-born player to get there). Cabrera is also chasing entry into the equally exclusive 3,000 hits club, but he would need roughly a hit per game for the rest of the season to do that, making 2022 more likely, so let’s focus on 500 and his road there.

The 28th player in MLB history to hit 500 home runs.

Congrats, @MiguelCabrera! pic.twitter.com/ajmOAbVeZg

— Detroit Tigers (@tigers) August 22, 2021

It’s yet another milestone achievement in the 38-year-old’s Hall of Fame-worthy career. Signed in 1999 as an amateur free agent out of Venezuela, Cabrera reached Double-A in 2003 and made his major league debut that same year at age 20 in June. It didn’t take him long to hit his first home run, and he did so by announcing his presence to Marlins fans and the entire sport, walloping a walk-off to dead center in his first game and becoming only the third major leaguer ever to do that.

Over 87 games that season, Cabrera hit 12 home runs but also struck out a fair bit, with a 24.3% rate. He was showing signs of the player he would become in terms of power, but he didn’t quite have the discipline at the plate yet. Still, he had a meteoric rise with the Marlins, helping them win the World Series in his rookie year and making four straight All-Star appearances from 2004 to ’07.

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It all began with Mr. Met.

The orb-headed, future enemy of Noah Syndergaard, was the first modern mascot of a major league team to appear live in-game, rather than merely as a drawing or on printed marketing materials. Other teams, like the Brooklyn Dodgers, had employed entertainers who became unofficial mascots for their clubs, but Mr. Met represents the first case of an intentionally designed character becoming an in-person mascot. Mr. Met first debuted in print in 1963; he was heavily featured in the team’s preseason marketing and was portrayed on scorecards and in programs throughout the year. In 1964, he made his first live appearance. He remained a consistent part of the team’s iconography until 1979, when he was removed from use; the character remained on the bench until 1994.

What Mr. Met represented was a modern-era shift for baseball. Fans had traditionally been a more raucous crowd that consisted primarily of adults, and teams at the time were making an effort to appeal more to families. The presence of large, cartoonish characters made ballparks feel like a more welcoming environment for those attending with small children. Mr. Met, who was quickly joined by Mrs. Met, ushered in a new experience, and over the following decades, almost every major league team followed suit, adding their own mascots to entertain game-day fans.

We can give Mr. Met credit for being the first official live mascot of a major league team, but another character set the tone for some of the most popular mascots to follow: the San Diego Chicken. The Chicken is an interesting example of a team representative because the San Diego Padres did not set out to find or create an entertainer for their games. The Chicken, played by Ted Giannoulas, originally did events for KGB-FM Radio. Upon having some success distributing Easter eggs to children, Giannoulas pitched his services to the Padres. At the time, he just wanted a way to get into games for free, but after his 1977 debut, he went on to portray the character for almost 50 years, albeit with a few breaks over the decades. For instance, in 1979, he was fired from the radio station and had to fight for the right to wear the chicken suit, and there were a few other planned absences as well. But those gaps aside, the Chicken was quite popular, even making its way to television, where, alongside Johnny Bench and Tommy Lasorda, it served as the co-host of a popular children’s series called “The Baseball Bunch,” a program aimed at introducing baseball and its players to a younger audience.

The Chicken popularized a certain type of mascot. You can see aspects of it in almost all of the other mascots in the majors. Its big, child-friendly, stuffed animal look became the template from which the next generation of mascots were drawn. That aesthetic is probably best exhibited in the Phillie Phanatic, who debuted in 1978 and is likely the best-known and most recognizable mascot currently in the game.

There’s a simple reason these more child-friendly designs gained popularity — they worked. Some teams had made much earlier attempts at mascots, but they were frankly more horrifying than they were appealing, proving to be disquieting to both adults and children. The Chicago Cubs made efforts as far back as 1908, when they introduced a nameless bear mascot that might remind modern observers more of the finale of Midsommar than a rollicking good time at the ballpark. Unlike Mr. Met, the bear wasn’t a mascot in the traditional sense. The team had no intention of him appearing for the entire season. Indeed, he actually only came to amuse the crowd for a single game. (The polar bear costume was on loan from a local production of “The Top o’ th’ World.”)

Nightmare fuel-my post on the story behind the scary Chicago Cubs bear mascot of 1908: https://t.co/ZiydzMIZBO pic.twitter.com/P7fTrQMWlI

— Todd Radom (@ToddRadom) March 1, 2018

The Cubs did win the World Series the season that the terror bear made an appearance, so perhaps they should have kept it around a bit longer. Instead, the team switched to live bear cubs for a time, including the best-known of the group, a cub named Joa (named for Cubs co-owner J. Ogden Armour). Again, we can’t consider these mascots in the same way we think of them now, as they didn’t perform and generally caused more harm than good. Ultimately, though, it wasn’t the moral failing of keeping a live animal on display that forced the Cubs to change their policy on the actual cubs, but rather that the pint-sized bears kept biting people, including the players. Sadly, the cubs who were not sold to the Lincoln Park Zoo met slightly grimmer ends. (The team’s current mascot, Clark, canonically escaped the zoo after hearing enthusiastic hollering coming from Wrigley Field and deciding he desperately needed to see a game in person. Mascot biographies are a wild ride.)

Between the introduction of Mr. Met in the 1960s and the mid-80s establishment of “The Baseball Bunch,” almost every major league club got a mascot of its own. While official mascots have changed somewhat over the decades, they’re still a mainstay for most teams. At present, there are only three major league teams with no official mascot: the Los Angeles Angels, the Los Angeles Dodgers, and the New York Yankees. Given that the two Los Angeles-based teams are so close to Disneyland, it’s somewhat surprising that they haven’t embraced a costume-clad ambassador of their own, but they remain firmly mascotless. The Angels do have a rally monkey, but it’s not an official mascot as much as a part of the club’s iconography. Before they moved to Los Angeles, the Dodgers briefly had a mascot named Weary Willie, who we’ll return to a bit later. The Yankees, however, might have one of the best examples of a failed mascot of any major league team.

In 1979, without any advanced warning to fans or even a proper introduction, the Yankees unveiled Dandy. Unlike the Cubs’ first crack at a mascot, Dandy was actually pretty adorable. He had more in common with the round-bodied characters we see now, with a big belly and fur that resembled the iconic Yankee pinstripes. Dandy sported a long, red handlebar mustache, and carried a comically oversized bat. But the mascot’s initial welcome was anything but warm. According to Rick Ford, who wore the Dandy costume that first day, “Nobody had any idea what I was or what I was doing there. They just looked at me like, ‘What the hell is this thing?’”

Dandy had the right pedigree to be a beloved team icon. He was created by Bonnie Erickson and Wayde Harrison, the same masterminds behind the incredibly popular Phanatic, and had the same kind of goofy charm to his appearance. But he never resonated with Yankees fans. No one knew the character’s name and he was never given an official welcome. Erickson later confessed that the duo hadn’t really been given much direction in terms of what the Yankees actually wanted out of a mascot. “We knew they were interested in increasing family attendance, and they thought this was the way to do it. They left the design up to me.” In addition to not giving Erickson and Harrison much guidance in the design process, the Yankees didn’t offer much help to Ford in terms of how to be a mascot. “Nobody at the Yankees gave me any direction. I was just making it up as I went along,” he admitted.

Dandy’s poor conception and botched introduction might have spelled doom on their own, but it was likely the untimely death of Thurman Munson later in 1979 that ultimately brought an end to the mascot. While Erickson was not familiar with the Yankees catcher, there’s no way to dispute that Dandy, with his distinctive mustache, bore a striking resemblance to the beloved player. Following Munson’s passing, Dandy became an even more unwelcome presence. While Ford continued to don the costume for another two seasons, the character was quietly retired by the team by 1981. The Yankees have not attempted a mascot since, and there are few in the current front office who will acknowledge they ever had one.

The Yankees short lived mascot Dandy. (1979-1981) #RIP pic.twitter.com/zOlD6CIb3f

— Stirrups Now! (@uniformcritic) February 16, 2020

The Yankees aren’t the only team that would like to bury the memory of a mascot. Earlier, I mentioned Brooklyn Dodgers mascot Weary Willie, who was actually something of an icon during his heyday. Willie, as portrayed by Emmett Kelly, was a sad-faced clown who was meant to be a representation of a Depression-era hobo. He rose to fame during his tenure with Ringling Brothers Circus, but took the 1956 season off from the circus to clown for the Dodgers. While Mr. Met represents the earliest iteration of modern mascots (at least as recognized by MLB), Willie helped set the tone for how mascots engage with a crowd and keep things exciting amidst lulls in the game action. Willie was not considered a mascot by the team but rather in-game entertainment. While we think of those things going hand-in-hand now, it’s a slight distinction that keeps Mr. Met’s status as the first of his kind intact.

During the 1950s, when the Dodgers were still based in Brooklyn and bore the nickname of “dem bums,” it made sense to have a hobo character as a comical foil to entertain fans mid-game. Kelly, who often also joined the team for spring training, moved with them to Los Angeles, but ultimately left after the 1962 season, feeling that the Dodgers new home was simply “too big for one clown.” It’s likely best that Kelly’s tenure ended on his own terms, as it’s hard to imagine that such a character would have been appropriate on-field fodder for much longer.

It’s the Atlanta Braves, though, that might have the worst former mascot in modern baseball history. The team, which still comes under fire for its name, as well as the oft-discussed “Tomahawk Chop” performed by the crowd, once leaned even further into racial stereotypes in the form of their mascot. Today’s fans might be most familiar with Blooper, the club’s current mascot that was introduced in 2018, and those around in the 1970s and early 80s might recall the Bleacher Creature, who roamed the stands from 1977-81. But it’s the memory of Chief Noc-A-Homa that the organization would likely prefer to forget. Chief Noc-A-Homa pre-dated and also outlasted the Bleacher Creature, staying with the team from 1966-85. Notably, the Chief character, who had a tepee set up in the left-field seats, was not in a suit or oversized costume, but was played by a real person dressed as a Native American chief. Chief Noc-A-Homa was primarily portrayed by an actual Native American, with Levi Walker playing the part for over a decade. In 1983, the Braves also briefly added Princess Win-A-Lotta to the rotation, but she only lasted for one season.

Noc-A-Homa didn’t stir up much controversy at the time in the local Atlanta media, though he was mentioned in Russell Means’ 1972 lawsuit against the Cleveland Indians as being equally as problematic as Chief Wahoo. Walker went on the radio during the lawsuit to defend himself as well as the Cleveland organization, and ultimately the Noc-A-Homa character remained in place. After the 1985 season, Walker made it clear that the $60 per game he was making to play the mascot wasn’t enough, and rather than increasing his pay, the club decided to part ways with him, citing missed appearances. (Walker also admitted that he had asked out several female fans while on the job, one of whom turned out to be the daughter of a Braves executive.) The team did not recast the role, and in spite of fans who had grown superstitious about Chief Noc-A-Homa’s presence and a grassroots campaign in 1991 to bring him back during the Braves’ postseason push, the mascot hasn’t returned. With the benefit of hindsight, though, it’s clear why the Braves didn’t want to bring Walker back in 1991 (or at any time since) and why the team hasn’t used the “Screaming Indian” logo since it last appeared on a batting practice cap in 2012, though much like the Chief Wahoo design, MLB retains the right to use the logo. Many professional sports teams are finally responding to pressure from Indigenous groups to change outdated and racist team names, and those that do so seem to want to create distance between their current policies and the choices they made in the past. The Braves have a long way to go in this regard. They have not indicated any long-term plans to adopt a new name, and despite outside pressure, they have not eliminated the “Tomahawk Chop.” The team still dims the lights during opposing pitching changes, which prompts fans to light up their cell phones and participate in the longstanding, and troubling, tradition.

As some mascots have fallen out use, their broader role has continued to evolve over the years. We now find ourselves in a time where professional sports mascots can mean more to a team than just in-game amusement for the kids in attendance. The New York Times recently reported on how the branding for the Rocket City Trash Pandas helped generate $4 million in sales of merchandise featuring team mascot Sproket. Considering that even the most valuable minor league teams earn about $15 million a season in total revenue, earning $4 million in merchandise sales shows the incredible power of having a good mascot.

The value of mascots to clubs may be shifting as time progresses, and we’re seeing some teams achieve moments of pop culture relevance via their performers and branding. The Trash Pandas might not have the same reach outside of their sport as the Philadelphia Fliers do with Gritty, their giant orange monster who has transcended hockey to be his own entity, but the popularity of Sproket helped make the Trash Pandas a success before they’d won a single game. Mascots may primarily be used to appeal to children and get crowds amped up during games, but they can also impact a club’s bottom line.

There have been stumbles along the way, with teams learning from the growing pains of their off-putting or downright scary creations. Sometimes those missteps have led to teams abandoning mascots altogether, as the Yankees have done. Other teams have moved on from mascots with overtly racist overtones, replacing them with characters more in line with the style of the San Diego Chicken, as the Braves have done with Blooper. Mascots can be a charming part of the fan experience, but like all other aspects of baseball history, they are not without their failings, and it’s important to recognize the bad along with the good. And while mascots may be meant to appeal mostly to children, they also bring out the kid in all of us.

Over the last decade or so, I’ve noticed a trend I find intriguing, a pattern of fans building up a cult of personality around players on their favorite team who are, to put it politely, average at best. Now, before we dwell too much on the idea of a “bad” major leaguer, it’s worth noting that even the so-called “bad” players are still elite in terms of their ability to play the sport of baseball. To even make it to the big leagues means having proven yourself in the minors, often for years. They may not stack up compared to All-Star teammates and future Hall of Famers, but I want to emphasize that these players are still among the best in the world at what they do.

Still, even with that in context, there are players who fall into a utility or bench-player role, guys who likely don’t have sell-out jerseys in the team store or even earn the dreaded “Quad-A” moniker. Yet it’s these players who interest me most because for some reason, some of them become magnets for fan interest. Don Kelly, a utility player for the Detroit Tigers, hasn’t appeared on the field for the team since 2014; he has a career line of .230/.294/.334 over nine seasons, a career wRC+ of 72, and 0.2 career WAR. Yet to this day, Tigers fans will argue that it is Kelly, and not Don Mattingly, who is the true “Donnie Baseball.”

I posit there are two parts to what makes these players fan-favorites. The first thing that makes a “bad” player beloved is the positive feeling they create for an audience, be it as a generally likable individual or as a spark-plug who is watchable because you don’t know if they’ll crack a joke or beat the tar out of a Gatorade cooler on any given day. The feeling these players inspire in us, the GIFs and videos that hit Twitter as a result, is part of establishing a mythos that has nothing to do with their stat line. Who among us hasn’t seen a GIF of Tampa Bay Rays outfielder Brett Phillips in “airplane mode” after his unexpectedly clutch walk-off in Game Four of the 2020 World Series and smiled? Read the rest of this entry »

On May 14, I wrote about how despite some early excitement, the Tigers were struggling to meet the expectations of their rebuild and were on course for a historically bad 2021 season, or at least the first overall pick in the draft. Since then, however, some things have changed, and while they likely won’t be making any kind of a postseason push (our Playoff Odds still have their chances at 0.0%), what they have been doing is playing exciting, fun, winning baseball.

Case in point: their Wednesday afternoon game against the Twins. That 17–14 slugfest exemplified pretty much everything that is going right and wrong for the club over the past few months: an aggressive offense with two legitimate Rookie of the Year contenders, and a pitching staff that can turn even a 10–0 lead into something uncertain.

The improvements in the offense have been the biggest part of Detroit’s success. In April, the team was dead last in wRC+ at a dismal 63; now, the offense ranks 18th overall at 93. That looks even better if we narrow it down to just July, in which Detroit ranked 12th at 107. Oddly, the Tigers have been excellent in high-leverage situations; for the season, they rank eighth in that split with a 108 wRC+, and if we look solely at the month of July, that goes up to an incredible 164. Similarly, with runners in scoring position, the team has a wRC+ of 103 on the season and 135 in July, up from 92 in April.

Where are the Tigers finding this surge? One of the biggest stories here has to be the incredible rookie season of Akil Baddoo, who made waves by hitting a home run in his first major league plate appearance, struggled slightly at the beginning of May, and has since found his rhythm once more, slashing .309/.394/.497 in his last 56 games. If not for an already loaded class, Baddoo would likely be garnering some attention for Rookie of the Year discussions; he’s currently hitting .273/.345/.494 with a 126 wRC+ and a team-leading 1.9 WAR.

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This coming Tuesday, July 20, a game between the Tampa Bay Rays and Baltimore Orioles will feature MLB’s first broadcast crew composed entirely of women. The talent running the show includes: Melanie Newman, the Orioles’ radio play-by-play announcer, and the first woman to serve in that role for the club; Sarah Langs, a writer for MLB.com, who will provide the analysis; Alanna Rizzo, formerly a member of the Dodgers’ broadcast team, who will handle on-field reporting during the game; and Heidi Watney and Lauren Gardner, established reporters for MLB Network, hosting pre- and post-game shows.

MLB is not the first league to have a broadcast crew staffed entirely by women. The NBA saw its first all-woman crew take the helm in March of 2021 for a Toronto Raptors-Denver Nuggets game, featuring Meghan McPeak on play-by-play, Kia Nurse providing analysis, Kayla Grey doing sideline reporting, and Kate Beirness and Amy Audibert handling pre- and post-game reporting. The NHL, meanwhile, had its first all-female team back in 2008, when French network RDS had Claudine Douville and Daniele Sauvageau call a game between the New Jersey Devils and the Tampa Bay Lightning. Then there’s the NFL, which might be the furthest ahead in terms of women-led broadcasts, with the duo of Hannah Storm and Andrea Kremer working a full season together on Amazon Prime’s Thursday Night Football broadcasts.

But while other sports may have done these broadcasts sooner, it’s still good to see MLB taking these steps in a more diverse and progressive direction — of women accepted and represented in more roles within baseball. We got further down that road when the Miami Marlins hired Kim Ng to be the franchise’s general manager, making her the first woman to be the GM of a major league team (and the first woman to be the GM of a men’s professional franchise in any of the major North American sports). Read the rest of this entry »

A story recently emerged that captured the hearts of even the stoniest baseball fans. On June 19, a little girl named Abigail attended her first major league game in Cincinnati and was over the moon to get to see her hero, Joey Votto, in action. But as fate would have it, Votto was ejected in the first inning, leaving young Abigail devastated; a photo of her forlorn face, eyes brimming with tears, made the rounds on Twitter. Soon enough, though, she had a signed ball in her hands, and later that same week, she returned to the park and got to meet Votto in person. A photo of her beaming expression might best summarize the whole experience:

Today was AMAZING!!! ???? Thank you, from the bottom of our hearts, to Joey Votto & the @Reds for the wonderful tickets to today’s game & for taking the time to meet with Abigail. She is absolutely thrilled & couldn’t have had a better weekend! Thank you for making it so special! pic.twitter.com/n0JL8YAUIJ

— Kristin (@SuperBarry11) June 21, 2021

The entire story, from Abigail’s excitement to the perfectly-timed misfortune of Votto’s ejection to the entirety of baseball Twitter rallying around this one little girl, felt like the plot of a movie, with our hero, in this case, a fan ready to cheer for her favorite player.

Abigail’s story is not a movie, of course. It will become a fun memory to look back on later in her life and probably helped solidify her as a Reds fan. Not every fan can have the kind of direct experience she did; not every child can meet their hero. But what makes Abigail’s story special is that it’s centered on her and not Votto. He was a just a peripheral part of what made this tale unique, and that is what made it so touching and engaging for others to follow.

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On June 28, baseball media swarmed to the story of Gwen Goldman, a 70-year-old New York Yankees fan who after 60 years was finally granted a wish she’d made as a 10-year-old. In 1961, Goldman wrote to then Yankees general manager Roy Hamey asking for an opportunity to be a Yankees batgirl.

The response she received from Hamey was rife with the kind of sexism one might expect from a missive penned in 1961. “While we agree with you that girls are certainly as capable as boys, and no doubt would make an attractive addition to the playing field, I am sure you can understand that in a game dominated by men a young lady such as yourself would feel out of place in a dugout.”

While it’s hard to overlook that Hamey thought it appropriate to tell a 10-year-old that adding women to baseball would be “an attractive addition,” it’s clear that he was also dismissing any arguments Gwen might have made in favor of her merit in her original appeal, which unfortunately has not been recovered. Baseball, and especially the Yankees, were clearly important enough to Gwen to risk applying for the job, and thankfully her rejection was not enough to dampen her enthusiasm for the game. Read the rest of this entry »

Some of my fondest memories of baseball have nothing to do with the game being played on the field. Every summer like clockwork, my best friend and I set out on a new baseball adventure. We wait eagerly for the arrival of the next season’s schedule and make our travel plans accordingly. One year it was driving north through Florida to visit the stadiums in Miami, St. Petersburg, and Atlanta. Another year, we melted our way through the heat of July in the Midwest, seeing Kansas City, St. Louis, Cincinnati, and Chicago.

The first time I ever took a solo road trip I did it to see baseball, visiting six stadiums and numerous baseball-themed attractions along the way. I survived traffic in Pittsburgh and scientifically determined the best cupcake shops in Washington D.C. (Red Velvet Cupcakery, though if you are a fan of sweeter, richer cupcakes, Baked and Wired is for you).

In Baltimore, a stranger gave me tips on the best place to try crab. In St. Petersburg, a friendly season ticket holder named Sherry overheard me telling the guest services attendant it was my first Rays game. She insisted on bringing me and my friend into the season ticket holders area and showing us around, as if being a Rays ambassador was her job (it should be). In Kansas City, I befriended a local so lovely that she invited me to come back and stay with her the following year to enjoy more games and more BBQ, and we went on a tour of Kauffman stadium. Read the rest of this entry »

We talk a lot about the “face” of baseball — a player who has the look, the excitement, the highlight reel, the things that make them an ideal candidate to be a poster child for the game. “Here,” we say, to would-be fans. “This is what you’re getting when you start to watch that sport.” It could be Bryce Harper with his GIF-worthy hair tosses, or Aaron Judge with his giant frame and home runs. It could be Mookie Betts or Mike Trout, whose talents defy generational lines and who we will likely be talking about for decades after they retire.

As baseball faces go, there are lots of options, even if it feels like no one can agree on them or decide who would be the best candidate to usher in a new generation of fans. Whose poster would these kids want on their walls? Whose stance would they most likely emulate in Little League games? Which superstar can surpass the limitations of team fandom to become beloved by all? It’s a tough request to fulfill, and that’s likely why there are no firm answers.

In recent months, I’ve begun to wonder if what baseball needs is a face at all. Perhaps what baseball needs instead is a voice.

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I am an absolute sucker for baseball history. Hours upon hours have been lost to deep dives into the SABR Bio Project or the spiraling wormhole that is Wikipedia. It’s amazing what little nuggets of strange-but-true ephemera you can unearth as you sink into over a hundred years of baseball. If you’ve watched Ken Burns: Baseball, you’ll know that even 10 episodes is not enough time to cover the breadth of what the sport is and what it has achieved.

Because the game’s history is so rich and expansive, there’s a habit, as with all history, to pick and choose the aspects of the historical record that best fit with the present tone. We may have even been convinced it started with Abner Doubleday, as popular myth has long-contended. But as it turns out not even Doubleday himself ever made any such claim, and in digging into the roots of where baseball really began, I found that the answer might fall much further north than previously believed, with a game in Ontario, Canada, that may just be the first game of baseball ever played in North America.

If you look at the origins of baseball, it is generally believed that the first game took place in Cooperstown, New York, in 1839. An account from Abner Graves was the source for this claim, but there are a lot of issues when you approach it with any real historical method. For one, Abner Doubleday never visited Cooperstown and definitely did not do so in 1839, when he was attending West Point. Add to this that Abner Graves was only five years old in 1839, and that in his later years he was confined to a ward for the criminally insane after murdering his wife, and you might begin to understand why we perhaps should not take his version of history at face value.

As I researched Canadian baseball’s history for another piece, I came across a mention of a story about a game very similar to baseball, played in Beachville, Ontario. In an 1886 letter, Dr. Adam Enoch Ford recounted attending an event that “closely resembled our present national game” a full year before Doubleday was credited with inventing it. The game in question took place on June 4, 1838, and as you’ll see from the excerpts that follow, it may not be exactly baseball as we know it, but it’s definitely more like it than a game that never actually happened in Cooperstown in 1839. Read the rest of this entry »