As college baseball heads into its various playoffs, including the Division I NCAA “College World Series” in a few weeks in Omaha, I’m wrapping up my own post-COVID tour of local (San Diego County) college ballparks.
A reunion with some college friends earlier this spring ended with our attending a San Diego State - San Jose State game at Tony Gwynn Stadium.
I’d forgotten how joyous college ball is: Most of the players on most teams have no dreams or hopes of being drafted; they’ll play their last truly competitive game their senior year of college. Yeah, the ding of metal bats takes some getting used to if you’ve only watched professional baseball of late - but the level of play is surprisingly high, and the love these players have for the game is palpable.
When we saw that SDSU was playing across town at the University of San Diego a couple weeks later, a group of us took that game in, too, at Fowler Park.
A week after that, we drove a bit north for SDSU vs. University of California San Diego at Triton Ballpark.
Then USD and Gonzaga ended their regular season with a four-game series at USD for the regular season conference title - we took in a Saturday double-header back at USD.
Finally, when Point Loma Nazarene University hosted an NCAA Division II playoff series (a “super regional”) against Azusa Pacific last week, I went to that - and got to see the Sea Lions advance to the national championship in North Carolina this weekend. (And Carroll B. Land Stadium is called “The Most Scenic Ballpark in America” for a reason - where else can the outfielders look over their shoulder and see sail boats and dolphins?)
It was a heady, fun couple of months - small, cozy ballparks where you are close enough to the field that you can hear umpires explaining calls to coaches, where there is plenty of nearby parking, and you don’t need to take out a loan to buy a hot dog and soda. Plus, the tickets themselves are far cheaper than anything I could score at a San Diego Padres game. We didn’t make it to Cal State San Marcos this year - but it’s on the radar for next year, and maybe our community colleges, too: Palomar (which went to the state playoffs this year), MiraCosta, Grossmont, San Diego City College, Southwestern, Mesa.
That’s a lot of college baseball in one town, and that got me to thinking about the future of baseball, particularly given the recent decision by Major League Baseball to cut ties with 42 Minor League teams (shrinking from 162 to 120), citing the need to “save money.”
Re-reading Ken Davidoff's New York Post story on the challenges facing minor league baseball as the decision was being discussed last year pricked my curiosity even further. Could the decline of minor league ball be due to renewed competition for talent from college baseball - and, more importantly, can college ball help fill the void left by the shrinking of the minor leagues?
Lou Pavlovich, editor of Collegiate Baseball, answered that very question for readers of Lost in Cyberspace:
“My short answer is that, yes, college baseball can fill the void left by the contraction of the Minor Leagues. While you have all of these college baseball games taking place through May and several championships into June, the greatest hidden treasure are summer collegiate leagues which are scattered throughout the nation.” (More on that below.)
Looking at the numbers
In addition to the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA), which has three divisions of athletic competition, with Division I being the highest, there are also more than 200 smaller schools affiliated with the National Association of Intercollegiate Athletics, or NAIA.
Finally, two-year “junior” or “community” colleges have their intercollegiate sports governed by the National Junior College Athletic Association, which, like the NCAA, has three levels of competition.
I drew up the chart below, showing how many colleges and universities offer scholarships for baseball players - and also the total size of the rosters.
That's more than 53,000 prospects on more than 1,500 teams who might have helped field minor league teams a half-century ago. Today, obviously many of these players see baseball as a way to earn a college degree while extending their playing careers.
At their peak, in 1949, there were 448 minor league teams. Today, following contraction, the affiliated minor leagues - those that feed directly to one of the 30 Major League teams - have the following roster slots:
There is this, too: With most four-year universities - even public ones - now charging into the tens of thousands of dollars a year in tuition and fees, plus the costs for textbooks, room and dining, a full-ride scholarship is almost always worth more than the $15,000 a year a top minor league prospect who was not rated high enough to qualify for a signing bonus might make.
Plus the living environment is usually better in college than in the minors: a shared dorm room on campus instead of 4 guys to a small apartment, or renting a room from a local family. You also have more structure at college: classes to attend, a weight room, you’re living on campus and have to check in with the coaches. There is simply less time for boredom to lead to mischief, or worse.
On the downside, the competition isn’t as good in college, slowing a player’s development. And fewer games are played over the course of a season, too.
Further, college isn’t for everyone. Not every high schooler wants to go to college or has the grades to get into college. Just like plenty of high school grads who don’t play baseball are more interested in learning a trade than continuing in school, so many ballplayers might be a better fit for professional ball than college.
Still, with more than 50,000 roster spots on college and university baseball teams, that’s clearly tapping into the talent pool that formerly filled out the minor leagues.
And when the minors were at their heyday, baseball was the first choice of most high school athletes. Today, the top athletes gravitate toward football and basketball - baseball is left to fight with soccer for the best of the rest.
Of course, college baseball won’t help build up a small town’s economy the way a minor league team can - particularly one tied to a Major League team. Having an established star who is working their way back from injury play a couple of rehab games on a farm team will fill that minor league stadium and boost the town’s economy.
And a minor league season is far longer than a college season - 140 games stretching over five months, compared to an NCAA max of 56 games in college. meaning more tickets sold, more concessions. It helps fill in the long summer evenings when school is on break in a way that college ball, which is tied to the school year, just can’t.
But minor league teams exist at the whim of the Major Leagues. For years, the Dodgers’ AAA affiliate - the highest level of the minor leagues - was in Albuquerque. Then the Dodgers moved the affiliate to Portland. One of the best-known minor league teams (thanks to the character Max Klinger from the hit 1970s TV show “M*A*S*H” being a fan), the Toledo Mud Hens, have changed Major League affiliations and levels numerous times over the years, from the Minnesota Twins to the Cleveland Indians, to the New York Yankees and the current affiliate club, the Detroit Tigers.
A college team may move up (or, conceivably) down a division over the years, but it’s always going to be that college’s team. There’s a stability there that the minor leagues just can’t provide.
Weighing all of the above factors, it’s pretty clear that college baseball can’t truly replace minor league baseball - they’re two different animals.
A new model?
But a melding of the two is under way in some towns, particularly those whose minor league team lost its Major League affiliation last year.
Summer wooden bat college leagues continue to grow in popularity - both to give collegiate players more playing time over the summer when their season is over, and also to help fill the void left by minor league contraction.
There are now almost 90 summer baseball leagues, in every corner of the country, from the storied Alaskan Baseball League and Cape Cod Baseball League (going back decades) to new ones sprouting up from San Diego (hello, Pacific Coast Collegiate League) to Florida (Florida Gulf Coast League), the Great Lakes (Great Lakes United Baseball League) to Long Island, N.Y. (Hamptons Collegiate Baseball League).
The ballfields range from established minor league and college parks to high school fields; the seasons offer from a couple dozen to 50 games.
Pavlovich, the editor at Collegiate Baseball, ranks them this way:
“For elite baseball competition, nothing beats the Cape Cod League with numerous high profile college players who are expected to be picked high in future MLB Drafts. The stunning beauty of New England never gets old for those who attend games on the coast and other locations.
“One of my favorite summer wooden bat leagues is the Alaska League. They once had an airplane crash during one of their games (not on purpose). If you want to go out on a jog at any time as a player, beware. There have been tales about players who have been chased by bears.
“College baseball summer wooden bat leagues are the heartbeat of America with fun at every turn.”
Perhaps no team better exemplifies the creative thinking going into a post-contraction minor league world than the Savannah Bananas, a team Pavlovich singled out as an example of modern minor league ball done right.
Never a feeder to a Major League team, the Savannah Bananas have built a dual-purpose schedule that features their collegiate summer league season in the Coastal Plain League with a winter season built around a Harlem Globetrotters-styled exhibition game - featuring everything from flaming bats to pitchers on stilts. Management markets the heck out of the team to the community - issuing new highlight and music videos weekly or more - with the result that the team regularly sells out its home games. (And to be honest, “Hey Baby” beats “Take Me Out to the Ballpark” as a seventh-inning stretch song hands-down.)
The summer league is pure competition, though, as college players from around the country come to play in front of an appreciative audience.
The Burlington, Iowa team lost its affiliation - and now both hosts a summer college team, as well as a team in an independent, unaffiliated league, the American Association of Professional Baseball, which features 10 teams. There are another half-dozen similar leagues, some with business relationships to the Major Leagues (although not featuring any feeder teams), and some that are truly independent. It’s tough going for these teams, though, not having access to any of the top prospects - those with a viable chance of someday making it to the Big Leagues, “The Show” as the Major Leagues are called by players.
Back on campus
But the growth of college baseball over the past half-century does offer another alternative for those who love the game - fans as well as players.
In 1950, the University of California System consisted of five campuses. Today there are 10, seven of which offer baseball. Florida Atlantic, Central Florida, Florida International, South Alabama, Coastal Carolina, and Northern Kentucky are all major universities founded since 1950. (Another comparison: In 1950, U.S. colleges and universities awarded 432,000 bachelor’s degrees. In 2009, that number was 1.6 million.)
In addition to the raw numbers, college baseball is growing in popularity - most of the larger conferences now televise their baseball games, and even smaller conferences regularly stream their games online. The University of Tennessee just announced plans for a major upgrade to its stadium.
And many colleges are marketing their baseball programs in the community similar to the way minor league teams have for years: Reminding families that they offer an affordable entertainment option. At both USD games I attended this year, a local youth league was in attendance, announced over the PA, and players in their uniforms were invited to come on the field before the game to join the college players for the lineup exchange and national anthem.
There is, perhaps, another lesson in the growth of the college game that the Major League brain trust might want to consider:
The Major Leagues have already changed a few rules, and are looking at tinkering with more - putting a runner on second in extra innings, banning the infield shift, putting pitchers on a pitch clock. They are all based on the premise that baseball is losing younger people and has to do something to compete for their attention.
The 50,000 students playing baseball at our colleges and universities, though, offer a counterweight to that assessment.
My Civilian Life
When not working as a newspaper reporter or editor, I’ve held down a variety of other jobs through the years: a summer apprenticing to a carpenter, flipping burgers, washing dishes, and for awhile when I got sick of the whole newspaper racket in 1990, selling tires at Price Club (precursor to Costco) in San Diego.
One winter afternoon in the baseball off-season, Hall of Fame umpire Doug Harvey came in to get a new set of shoes on his car. Since I was working the register while the other guys were doing the tire-busting, I got to chat with him. It was a slow weekday, and a couple of other guys joined me and Mr. Harvey on the folding chairs in the waiting area.
The question came up: Why did relatively few managers argue with Harvey compared to other umpires?
"Because I know the rule book better than any manager!" he said with a laugh. He also said it was hard work memorizing the new rule changes each season, but he felt that was the foundation for everything he did on the field: He HAD to be the subject matter expert. And so he memorized every rule, and could recite it back as needed during a game. He said he expected every ump on his crew to do the same.
He told us that whatever we chose to do in life, we should give 100 percent - not because the company we worked for necessarily deserved that effort, but because it would define how others saw us. That there was no shortcut to success. That the only two choice in life are hard work or make excuses, and that making excuses would wear you out faster than hard work.
As the two guys who put the tires on his car came in to let him know it was ready, he made sure to give each of us guys working in the tire shop that day his business card. I’ve kept it ever since, in my baseball card collection. (Which I cannot find as I write this - when I do figure out which safe space I put it in so I wouldn’t lose it, I’ll scan the card and share it here.)
Break Out the Headphones
On his first trans-Atlantic voyage to the United States, following World War II, French novelist Albert Camus - a man whose command of language was second to no-one’s - found himself on the fantail of his ship and realized that words were insufficient to capture the sight of an ocean liner’s wake. I wonder if he would have had any better luck describing the music of Kip Hanrahan.
In a quarter century of reviewing Hanrahan’s recordings, I certainly haven’t. It’s jazzy, but not really jazz. He incorporates a lot of Latin rhythms, but it’s not really Latin. He features rock singers like Sting and Jack Bruce, but it’s not rock. And yet, it’s also all of these things while still not being strictly of any of them.
Maybe it’s the sound of mystery - not a detective show or novel, but the mystery of the universe that most religions embrace, the mystery experienced by mortals trying to wrap our finite minds around the infinite wonder of God.
His music doesn’t try to solve the mystery - it embraces it, celebrates it even.
From 1996 to 1998, he and his collaborators turned out a three-volume musical interpretation of One Thousand and One Nights, retitled “A Thousand Nights and a Night,” that is worth your full attention for all 3 hours. It is perhaps the perfect encapsulation of Hanrahan’s career.
Accomplished musicians like Alan Toussaint and Jack Bruce, and even outright stars like Sting or Rubén Blades, have regularly put aside their considerable egos to embrace the group dynamic that is a Hanrahan gig, where the ensemble itself, not Hanrahan, drives the music.
In so doing, they have ended up making some of the best music of their careers.
Listen for yourself:
Sting on vocals, from 1990:
With Jack Bruce on vocals, from 1985:
Carmen Lundy on vocals, from 1991:
With Bruce again, along with Alan Toussaint on piano:
A 2011 gig at Blue Note Tokyo:
A 1999 show of his Deep Rumba project, with interviews:
On the Nightstand
My colleague and friend Michael J. Williams has a wonderful profile of and interview with jazz bassist Gunnar Biggs in this month’s issue of San Diego Troubadour.
Michael and I are working together on a history of jazz in San Diego, and this article came out of that research. But this article was all Michael.
Gunnar has played with everyone from Buddy Rich to Sarah Vaughan through the years, and was regular bassist for the Sunday night jam sessions that Jeannie and Jimmy Cheatham ran at the airport Sheraton and later the Bahia resort on Mission Bay in San Diego.
But read Michael’s article - he tells it way better than I am. And Michael (who turned me on to jazz when we were both on staff at the San Diego State student newspaper, the Daily Aztec, in the early ’80s) knows everybody in jazz in San Diego, so the article is as well-sourced as it is well-written.
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