Uncle Fun and Sparky Land

 

Hello, sports fans, and all the ships that sail on them:

     The leadoff to this missive comes from Hake Zackenbarsch, ace mop-up man for the Funsville Fun Sox. What’s the significance of this, you ask? Well, the fable linked to last week’s posting, which was about the trials and tribulations of a salmon, got us all thinking about angels.

     Of course it did.

     Here’s your boarding pass for the train of thought that led up to this. Not so long ago, in a simpler time when we were all younger, more foolish and believed that Warren Buffett knew how to make money for anybody but himself, the California Angels had an outfielder by the name of Tim Salmon. The California Angels are now the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim, Azusa, and Cucamonga, and their centerfielder is a chap called Mike Trout. Unlike most trout, he has an impressive pedigree (or is that pescigree?), being the son and grandson of two former major league pitchers, Steve and Paul “Dizzy” Trout respectively. (The family has thirty-four years to get two more of its descendants into the major leagues, to make a full-fledged Trout Quintet in time for the 250th anniversary of the birth of Franz Schubert.) 

     This led Sparky to ask if there was a clause in the by-laws of the American League making it mandatory for the Angels to have at least one player with the name of a fish in their outfield. I told him I thought it was more likely a National League rule from the years when Chub Feeney was league president. This led to a spirited discussion about the possibility of fielding an entire lineup of fish-named baseball players. (Would this make it “bouilla-baseball”? I don’t know…you tell us.)

     Here’s the squid…er, sorry—squad—we came up with. Our panel set themselves a few basic ground rules before going on their fishing expedition for talent:

1. The players have to have played in the major leagues for at least the equivalent of one full season (502 plate appearances for position players or 162 innings pitched for pitchers is the standard we used).
2. The fish names must be surnames only, the better to stitch onto the back of a uniform. No first names or nicknames—this rules out the likes of Shad Barry, Marlin Stuart, Catfish Hunter, Catfish Metkovitch, and Mudcat Grant.
3. No names of fish parts—the Finns and Gills of the baseball world are out of luck…as is Preacher Roe. (Kind of a pity, that…his name alone would have made him the caviar of our pitching staff.)
4. Properly-spelled fish names only—no “Spratt”s with two t’s and so forth. As the self-appointed representative of the non-spelling community, Sparky voiced his objection to this rule, but was ultimately voted down. This stipulation, like the previous one, served to weaken our team, as it deprived us of the hitting, fielding, and speed of Ralph Garr.
5. Only the names of fish are subject for consideration—no crustaceans, cephalopods, or other forms of underwater life. So much for Roy Crabb, or Ron Oyster…um, Oester. There’s no room for shellfish ballplayers on this team.
6. And—no puns, no matter how outrageously entertaining they may be. (This too is unfortunate, because it disqualifies Warren Spahn and Harvey Haddix…not to mention Carlton Fish…um, Fisk.)

     Now that you’re familiar with our exacting criteria, here’s our starting nine:

First Base         Sid Bream   

(He’s a consensus first-stringer on two counts. Not only does he have an appropriately fishy surname, but anyone who ever saw him run can attest that he moved with all the speed and elegance of a fish on dry land.)

Mike Carp

(He’s a—excuse the watery pun—current player, and his name’s too good to keep him off the team. He and Sid Bream both bat left, so there’s no chance of a platoon, but he can always DH.)

Second Base      Bobby Sturgeon

Third Base         Dickie Thon

(This one is, admittedly, a bit of a reach. He’s playing out of position—most of his career was spent at short. Also, “Thon” isn’t quite a fish name—not an English one, at any rate. In French, though, “thon” means “tuna”.)

Shortstop         Chico Salmon

(No relation to Tim, but one of Panama’s earliest exports to the majors.)

Left field           Kevin Bass

(Also playing out of position, but his bat’s too good to keep him out of the lineup. Tim Salmon had the better throwing fin…er, arm, and therefore goes in right field.)

Center Field      Mike Trout

Right Field         Tim Salmon              

Catcher             Ed Whiting

Pitchers            Dizzy Trout

Steve Trout

Bob Kipper                                                        

     The panel apologizes for a certain degree of repetition in this roster. We felt that the entire Trout family deserved its due. Besides, as Sparky so eloquently put it, anyone named Salmon was lox to make the team.

     I want to emphasize that Sparky said that, not me. You probably also would not be surprised to hear that he suggested that the team be managed by Connie Mackerel.

     I’m sure you’re all dying to hear more—such as what we think of our team’s chances of finishing in first plaice—er, yes, well…but I have to see about getting in touch with the proper dignitary to throw the ceremonial first pitch on Opening Day. I wonder if anybody remembers Senator Edmund Muskie…? Come to that, I wonder if I remember where I put that Ouija board…

Uncle Fun

P.S. I know, I know—something with this many fish in it really should have been posted on a Friday. Nobody here’s all that religious anyway…okay, we all religiously avoid work, but that’s another kettle of you-know-what. In any case, we can probably slip this one past new Pope Francis while he’s still getting used to the job.