July 31, 2011
-
Bocock.
A man named Brian Bocock plays professional baseball in Triple AAA for the Lehigh Valley Iron Pigs. He used to date a cousin of mine. They dated for 5 years. They were best friends and were very happy together. While on the road playing minor league baseball, he broke up with, via a text message. Kind of a dirtbag thing to do, right? He then got engaged about 2 months later to a girl my cousin and he went to high school with. I know. Well last week the Iron Pigs came through Pawtucket, RI to play the Pawtucket Red Sox in a 4 game series.
“Wanna go see the PawSox and heckle Bocock this week?” Was the text I received from my uncle Brian. And we did.
He was starting at shortstop and batting 9th. We arrived at the park and took our seat 20 rows from the field on the home side. From the aisle inward sitting it was myself, my brother Marky, my father Tim, my aunt Sharon and Brian. In the 3rd inning it is his first at-bat and right before he goes up we just look behind us and ask the two dads and their kids to boo for us after we tell them the story. They do. It felt great, my Marky called him a joke very loudly. It was funny and satisfying.
He ends up making some ridiculously amazing plays in the field, SportCenter type plays. It’s discouraging but we don’t falter. In between innings the other spectators around us are curious and start asking as well about why we’re doing what we’re doing and they help us for his next at-bat. There is a heavy-set family sitting behind us with a son and daughter. The 8 year-old son Liam, becomes infatuated with the demise of Bocock. “Why would he do something mean like that?” He says. “Hurting someone isn’t right,” Liam lectures. The boos grow louder. It’s fantastic.
The inning before his third at-bat I’m going up and down the aisles telling everyone around in the surrounding three sections our dilemma. They are all about it.
Bocock comes to the plate and it starts to rain, angry Coliseum like boos. We get a “Text Message!” chant going. Someone yells out, “Hey Brian I just sent you a text, you’re out!” It’s out of our control. Teeth are gnashing, the boos are getting gutteral and people are getting creative. Almost brought a tear to my eye.
Finally, in his last at-bat, the word has spread. People are waiting for it. An explosion of noise for this text breaker-upper has come upon McCoy Stadium! I’m losing my voice, but the fans stay strong. To top things off, he strikes out, for the final out of the game.
As we’re leaving an old woman stops me.
“I want to thank you,” she says.
“Why?” I asked laughing.
“Because usually my grandkids are yelling and running around and complaining that they want more peanuts, or cotton candy or soda. And you gave them a reason to watch the game. You gave them a reason to stay interested. They waited for that guy to come up again so they could boo him, you gave them a villain.”
I was astounded. And it gave me an idea. From now on, at every minor league game I go to. I’m going to pick the number 9 hitter of the opposing team and say the same story for Bocock. Get everyone all riled up. I’m bringing family back to baseball, one boo at a time. So the next time you’re at a game and you hear, “Hey Chad Stevens, a text message? Really?” You’ll know that its family night at that ballpark, I guarantee a great evening.
