In the Land of the Trash Panda

May 24, 2022, 10:03 am , by Richard Lutz

Richard Lutz is confronted by military celebrations at American baseball games

The pitcher peers 60 feet towards home plate to get the signal to throw a 100mph fastball. He’s wearing a camouflage shirt. The batter anticipates. He’s in camouflage too. So is the umpire making calls on every ball.

It’s Armed Forces Day in major league baseball throughout the States. And to honour the nation’s military, all 30 bigtime teams don khaki.

And as part of the ritual of America, this special day of khaki reveals how the sport, which broadcasts 100 top flight games per week, locks into the American mind. Or at least what the team owners believe to be the American mind.

It’s an odd annual ritual played out every May when the weather is warming up, kids are devouring ice cream in the stands, craning their necks to get a peek at their millionaire heroes and watching a game with stars playing GI Joe for three days (perversely, Armed Forces Day lasts Friday, Saturday and Sunday).

Granted, the military merchandise marketed for the games- the tee shirts, the caps, the shirts- do raise cash for veterans’ charities. But no one seems to ask certain questions. To wit:

*What if a player actually objects to playing soldier?

*What if an overseas athlete, say from The Dominican Republic or Japan, isn’t too keen on reflecting American military values?

*Or what about the team called The Blue Jays who play out of Toronto?

“You never see fans wearing camouflage….”

Just how does this three day catwalk play out in Greater Baseball Land? Quickly jumping around sports and news sites, I couldn’t see any negative reaction.

Most folks seemed to accept the idea though one wag did quip tellingly: ‘MLB makes pink merch for Mother’s Day, blue for Father’s Day, camouflage for Armed Forces Day. But you never see fans buying or wearing them.’

And that said about a game glutted with purchasing opportunities amid the hotdogs, nachos, beer and general razzle dazzle of a sunny day at the ballpark.

I mean, imagine a military celebration at a Premier League match in England. The clubs are mainly foreign owned, many of the super stars and managers are from overseas with allegiances to their own countries and I think a British streetwise and sometimes shortfused crowd just wouldn’t put up with watching stars wearing shirts honouring the Coldstream Guards or the Horse Cavalry. Especially with a recent nasty spate of mass pitch invasions where players and bench staff have been assaulted and abused.

In Britain, the culture just isn’t based around undiluted lauding of its armed services as it many times is in the States, a country where a monumental sports industry is eerily linked to the military. In America, it’s built into the very vigour and bones of the nation….if not in its lockers rooms, back offices and ballparks.

Right, that’s that out of the way. And I have to hold my hand up and say that since I get a daily feed of every major league game throughout the long season (that’s 2400 games,btw), I have been watching alot of camouflaged pitchers, hitters and fielders as the crowds sing Sweet Caroline or belt out Take Me Out To The Ballgame.

But despite a global reach (of which I’m part), major league baseball is still losing fans to the other American sports, such as NFL football and basketball. The game rakes in £3.5b annually while trying hard to retain its manufactured folksy, some would say obsolete, take on small town America. And maybe its heart is still ticking in these areas deep in the country.

And an historic element of that beating red white and blue heart of Smallville USA is baseball’s minor leagues. They’re a loose confederation of lower echelon teams where new recruits, over the hill players and injured major leaguers get in their innings. The franchises, mostly playing outside big urban areas, have gloriously whacky names, some dredged from local legend or bizarre fanbased votes. Here are some of the best (or worst):

Batavia Muckdogs

Jacksonville Jumbo Shrimp

Hartford Yard Goats

Toledo Mudhens

Alberquerque Isotopes (spot The Simpsons’ link)

Amarillo Sod Poodles

Rocket City Trash Pandas

Now, don’t sneer your face off yet. The Rocket City mob (named after their local racoons) took in £2m in merchandise alone a couple of years ago because of its absolutely bonkers name.

But maybe that’s part of the surreal nature of the minor league universe, whether you be a Sod Poodle fan or a Jumbo Shrimp follower. They’re covered in smalltown fun, hokey events and joyfully weird rituals to get the local fans in.

When in the States, I try to go to these lower order games and take part in the home club shenanigans. In my time, I’ve helped slap a plastic inflatable cow around the stands between innings; tried to catch soft toy lobsters fired into the crowds from airguns; devoured up homebaked muffins from the family next to me; and, eagerly cheered on little kids running races against giant furry puppet chicken mascots as teams warmed up. (Note from the stands:the kids always win).

Anything to bring in the crowds to this lower level. Anything to keep a game breathing. Anything to keep a slightly creaky aging game alive. With or without a camouflage outfit.