7th Inning Jones

One of the more lighthearted heckling targets of the mid-80's left field bleacher scene in Oakland was a backup Kansas City outfielder named Lynn Jones. (alternate stat site) Jones gained a nickname amongst the bleacher faithful, coined by John if I remember correctly, due to his completely predictable use as a late inning defensive replacement. He simply played left field every game, but only at the end of the game. So, John gave him the nickname of "Seventh Inning Jones." We heckled him and let him know every game just where he stood; he was not a star or even a starter. Jones had little choice but to accept the label and be content with our antics. He even enjoyed the attention, so we let up a bit and he became one of the fun targets of our crew.

In fact, here is a string of box scores for five consecutive Royals games in Oakland in 1985 (#1, #2, #3, #4, #5), and two more at the end of 1986 (#4 and #5) that show Jones as a late inning left field replacement.

A Night of Drinking with George Brett

One of my favorite stories is when I spent a night drinking with then future Hall of Famer George Brett. Back in about '86, the Royals were in Oakland to take on the A's. John was an autograph, ball, bat and attention hound for ballplayers. He tried to get a bunch of us bleacher bums to go with him to the lounge of the Royals' hotel after the game to schmooze and get autographs from the recent World Champs. Well, only Margaret and I went along with it, and insisted on driving separately.

The hotel for the visitors in Oakland was in the middle of crime infested industrial Oakland, so ballplayers were confined to the hotel lounge for fun. There was nowhere to go "out on the town." Most of the Royals that night were there. John brought his canvas gym bag full of balls, baseball cards and various other souvenirs with him. Sharpies in big supply. He had nicknames for all the Royals: "Saber" (Brett Saberhagen), "DJ" (Danny Jackson), "Goobie" (Mark Gubicza), etc., and after about five seconds of his trying to make advances toward the ballplayers, Margaret and I retired to the bar.

As we sat, a man came up next to us and plopped a beer glass down, then ordered another one. While he waited, he turned to us and said, "Hi, how you folks doing?" We turned to find out it was none other than George Brett. And when megastar George Brett asks how you're doing, you answer. He engaged us in conversation, and when he received his beer he hugged the stool with his rear in a way that suggested he'd be sitting a while. It was obvious that he already had a few. Giddy with circumstance, we talked baseball. He bought us a round of beers. Early on, Brett Saberhagen came up and ordered a Corona and walked away, forgetting all about it. I asked George if he thought Brett would mind if I had a sip of his beer. George flicked the lemon off, took a strong swig, pounded it on the bar and said, "HELL, NO! It's yours!"

We talked about many things. I asked George who the worst fans in baseball were, hoping to see where A's fans ranked. He replied that the Yankee fans were worst, but if you asked Royals outfielders, they would say the bleacher bums in Oakland. YES! What a confirmation of what we did every day. He mentioned specific fans that said specific things to Royals players. He also mentioned a fan who heckled him once with "Hey, George, you got your Preparation H and your pine tar mixed up!" There was no way I was gonna tell him that fan was me! I'm glad he remembered!

Meanwhile, John was frustrated with being turned down by every Royals player so far. They all knew him and his m.o., and made fun of him subtly in front of him without him noticing. John was such a character. Anyway, his frustration brought him to the bar to tell us that he was going home. Then he saw who was sitting with us. "Awwww, you dogs!" he said in green envy. True to his method, he started in on George by asking for an autograph. Then a ball, then a bat. George replied with a really loose, "If I'm gonna give anybody a bat, it's gonna be Marrrrrgaret!" and flopped his arms around her shoulders with one of those big, fat, wet been-drinking hugs. John was pissed. So he split, and let us know how lucky we were for days.

We continued sitting there with George, and he kept buying beers. In California the bars close at 2am. Last call and he bought a final round. When George Brett buys, you let him. The bartender finally closed the bar. But George stayed. When George Brett stays, you stay with him. The bar tender then ordered us out. But George ignored him. When George Brett ignores the bartender, you ignore him, too. At long last, the bartender finally called down the hotel manager to kick us out. George reluctantly complied. When George Brett reluctantly complies, you comply. George was a bit tipsy, so to say. The next day was a day game. We wondered if he might be a bit hung over the next day, but remembered that this was probably the norm for many ballplayers. I've always liked George Brett and will never forget that memorable night.

Cast and Crew: John and Mac

John and Mac were two characters from the A's left field bleachers. I first encountered them in about '84. I got to know them because they always sat in the same section as me - the second aisle from the left field corner, on the center field side of the aisle, in the front row. I call them characters, because they were. You could call them the Cheech and Chong of the bleachers. Or the Abbot and Costello or the Bill and Ted or Kramden and Norton. They were friends with one of those odd, comedic love/hate type of friendships.

They both wore longish hair, just past shoulder length. John, who formerly served in the navy, always wore unfaded bell-bottom Levi's, even though out of style by the mid 80's and sported the obligatory faded left forearm naval tattoo. Mac always wore Levi's chords. They both had one of those combs with the large handles sticking out of their back pockets so in fashion in the 70's. Mac was soft spoken. John was outspoken, but with a voice that didn't allow him to yell very loud. They drank only Budweiser. John smoked only Marlboro reds and always called them "cowboy killers." Mac drove a forklift at a warehouse and eventually moved up into management, while John worked at a cookie factory.

John was the funnier character. Some people use profanity, and some use it every other word. John used an expletive two out of every three words. This heavy use lessened the weight of each expletive to the point that one could comfortably dismiss it and view John as completely harmless. But he did it in a way that was completely hilarious.  If the ump made a questionable call on a pitch, John might be heard saying something like, "That's a bunch of g.d., m.f. b.s. That $%*# ball was $%&! five #&%$ feet f*!$% outside!" John was also a major autograph hound, and ball hound and bat hound and was constantly asking players for anything and everything. "How 'bout a ball?" was one of his favorite sayings, followed by "how 'bout a bat?" I think he even asked Rickey Henderson for an autographed base on a few occasions. Nobody had much heard about Sharpies back in the 80's. If Terrill Owens is their marketing spokesman, then John was the venture capitalist.

John and Mac: bleacher bums.