I have found that for the most part sports and music do not mix well. Just listen to any of the England football team's history of tragic musical attempts down through the years for undeniable proof. There is something about baseball though that lends itself to song. But even with that I was not expecting a huge amount from the gig at Eddie's Attic that promised: "Nine Innings of Baseball Songs". Despite being a fan of both John McCutcheon and Chuck Brodsky the two performers that evening, I was expecting that an evening of songs based around the sames subject matter would get old fairly quickly. I should have known better.
I am now, at the age of 48, a huge baseball fan. I have never been into teams sports that much. I don't watch league soccer or much in the way of Gaelic games. Oh I get caught up in the fever surrounding the Irish football team when we play big international games but I don't pine to see Premier League Football or support any team. I was fanatically into boxing when Barry McGuigan was our great hero and am proud to this day that I got to spend two years of my life working with him and almost living with his family in Southern England.
But since I moved to America some ten years ago baseball has seeped into my blood in a way that no other sport ever has. It is a hard one to explain to the few Irish people I have taken to games here. The rules are complicated and the play can be drawn out and slow where it seems nothing is really happening. But once those rules start to sink in and you understand the joy of a double play or a run scored on a sacrifice fly ball, the game takes over something inside you.
So imagine what it is like for those who have grown up with the game, have watched legends play, have cheered their teams through winning seasons and cried through the losing years. Kids here play little league and fanatical mothers and fathers stand proudly on the sidelines as the children walk onto the diamond and are now part of this great American tradition.
So yea, I should have know better. A night of songs about baseball is not just about baseball. It is about American life, about our childhood, about human rights and wrongs and ultimately about death too.
Eddie opened the game that night, Chuck's wife sang "O Canada" and John McCutcheon sang the American national anthem. Then the nine innings began. John and Chuck took us through every emotion you can imagine. We laughed at songs of how John taught his son to be a catcher and how he had to use duct tape to strap a cup to the poor 6 year old for his first little league game. We lived the life of a clown when Chuck told the story of Max Patkin in his song "Gone to Heaven". In a slight deviation from the main subject matter John gave us a slice of American life in a wonderful poem about Krispy Kreme donuts.
Then there were songs that showed baseball's connection to human rights. Jackie Robinson featured of course as the first black player to cross the color line in baseball but there was another fascinating song about Eddie Klepp. He was the first white player to go the other way across the color line to become the first white player to play with the old Negro Leagues. There was a heartbreaking true story about death row inmates who were literally playing for their lives, where stays of execution were decided by how well you played. And have you heard the supposedly true story of Dock Ellis? For a catcher in baseball the best game you can play is a "no hitter". It is a very rare occurance. I saw one in 2004 when Randy Johnson threw one against my beloved Atlanta Braves on a warm may afternoon. As a Braves fan I did not want our team to lose but by the Ninth Inning there was not one person in the stadium who didn't want to see Randy make it. Dock Ellis threw one against the San Diego Padres one day in 1970. The difference in his case, as he would claim some 14 years later, was that he was under the influence of LSD while he played.
John steered us away from the original songs with his rendition of the Steve Goodman classic "A Dying Cubs Fan's Last Request". He raised our spirits too with his own "I Am Here" an anthemic daydream of what he might say if he were inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame. He sang an inspiring true story of Sara Tucholsky whose story he had seen on Sports Center. John too closed the ninth inning of this magical evening with a poem that spoke to all of us about a ragged lost baseball found at the base of a tree on a cool November evening. That poem and the songs that preceded it explained in no uncertain terms why baseball has lured me in and is such a huge part of American society.
And after an evening of tears and laughter a baseball bat signed by each and every member of the audience was presented to Eddie Owen, the man who is for all of us the team captain of Atlanta's music world and one of our own unassuming heroes.
The Atlanta Braves play their season opener at Turner Field on Monday against the cubs.
Music from Chuck Brodsky at
John McCutcheon is at
and the best little venue in the world is
and my good friend and ace photographer of baseball and all things Irish David Schofield is at
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