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PAGE 4B THE BANKS COUNTY NEWS WEDNESDAY, APRIL 16, 2008 Diamond Talk Down the Stretch Major League Baseball at Global Summit Decade to reflect on meeting a racing hero A rather shocking event in major league baseball took place recently: the opening game of two MLB teams took place sev eral thousand miles from their respective ballparks. The Boston Red Sox and Oakland Athletics opened the 2008 season in Japan. I’ve always had this idea that, given the opportunity, baseball could bind the people of the world together, and now we may be moving closer to the moment of truth. Shortly before the BoSox and A’s made their way to Japan to open the 2008 season, Joe Torre escorted the entire Los Angeles Dodger team to China to parade players from America’s favorite pastime in front of our perceived newest and most threatening military foe. I stared for several minutes at a photograph taken atop the Great Wall of China with the Dodgers in uniform. If you look carefully, you can see dozens of Chinese in the background waiting to get to the players for autographs and pictures. We’re not in Kansas any more, Dorothy. Unlike China, Japan has a long history of baseball. After the United States forced Japan to open her doors to the world for trade in the mid 19th century, baseball (the game) spread to the land of the rising sun like wild fire. Ironically, while we’re really not sure of exactly when baseball was conceived here in America or who precisely came up with the game (we know it was not Doubleday), we do know that in 1873 the first semi-pro team - made up of railroad workers - was organized in Japan. Japanese people embraced baseball with a passion. Leagues based upon the American model were estab lished under the auspices of the Nippon Professional Baseball League (NPB). Lately, MLB and NPB have been interacting more (really forced to as more and more professional players on each side of the Pacific keep migrat ing back and forth). However, all is not well with the cozy new relationship: the NPB grumbles each time the Americans come and play, claiming MLB keeps robbing them of their best play ers - sort of an international farm team. Consider this: with the intro duction of baseball in China (and here I admit it has only been introduced), about one-fifth of the world’s population now knows the sport. China’s popu lation is about four times that of America’s. Instead of three divisions in two leagues, one could organize six divisions in four leagues. Imagine a ballpark a block away from where Mao used to rule the country with an iron fist. Imagine the com munist party unable to influence an umpire who has just called a third strike. Baseball has slowly migrated into several other areas around the globe. More and more MLB players are coming from Central America and the Caribbean, which leads us to Gary Sheffield’s comments last year concerning the power MLB holds over Latino players. Although his remarks may have been offensive to some, what he said was some what true. The economics of the game—attracting Latino players for less and treating them differently—is real. This is part of the globaliza tion of the free market and is an example of the catalyst of what difficult times the American blue- collar worker has experi enced since the passage of NAFTA. From the streets of Havana, Cuba came Yunel Escobar. In the streets of Havana, Cuba remain hundreds, perhaps thousands, of great ball players-in-waiting who would trade their soul for a chance to play in America’s major leagues. These hundreds or thousands are hungry (figuratively and literally speaking) and will play for the league’s minimum salary. This is part of the international farm system I spoke of earlier. This is reality. The business side of baseball is real and unforgiving. Fans may easily forget that base ball clubs are franchises which cost big dollars and must turn a profit. This business reality requires general managers to devise an elaborate system of player development, confined by budgeting constraints, and con founded, ironically, by a player’s outstanding year which, at the same time, helped the team’s profit line. International players are a gift from the great god of baseball. They are every GM’s dream—an inexhaustible source of talent who will play for a frac tion of what homegrown players demand. We’re most definitely not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy. Banks County resident John Rieken is an avid baseball fan. E-mail comments about this col umn to jrieken@windstream.net. john w. rieken www.mainstreetnews.com I t’s really hard for me to believe it’s been 10 years, but it has been. It was 10 years ago this month that one of the most memorable moments in my life occurred. It was 10 years ago this month that Adam Petty became the first known fourth generation profes sional athlete, when he made his professional racing debut in an American Speed Association event. He did it at my hometown track, Peach State Speedway near Jefferson. I was about a month away from graduating college, and had traveled down to visit with my grandfather the day before the race. Being big racing fans, and admirers of the Pettys, we decided to go over to the track to check things out. It was pole day, and while the stands were empty, the pits were full of cars and teams getting ready for the race. After qualify ing, we were able to go down to the pits, and immediately headed for where Adam’s team had parked. Now, back in those days, my hair was long and I always wore it pulled back in a ponytail. As we moved towards the team’s hauler, Adam spotted me, saw my hair, and said “Dadgum, your hair is longer than daddy’s!” He asked us to hang on while he went to get Kyle. When they returned, you would have thought we were all long lost friends. We stood there and talked about racing, history, and the future. My grandfather shared the story of meeting Adam’s great-grandfa ther, Lee Petty, earlier in the year, and telling him he didn’t like him when he was racing because “He won in them dadgum old Plymouths, and them dadgum old Olds- a-mobiles, and I’m a Ford man!” Kyle and Adam got a kick out of the story, and asked if we would be back for the big race the next day. I was supposed to work, so I didn’t think I’d be able to make it. “Man, you’ve got to be here,” Kyle said. “Please come back for the race tomorrow.” Well, that was as good as a royal command for me. There was no way we were going to miss the big show the next day. On race day, my grandfather and I arrived early, and got our usual seats just under the tower in the grandstands. We watched as Kyle and Richard Petty made their way out on the starting grid for pictures with Adam. The old ASA circuit, back in those days, always opened up the gate to the front stretch an hour before the race to allow fans to meet the drivers one on one. We made our way down, and went immediately to see Adam. After speaking with him for a moment, Adam asked us to hang around near him for a bit. As we stood there, a Petty crewman came up, and asked if we would come with him. It seemed Kyle had sent him to find us, and wanted us to hang out with him and “The King” before the race. Holy cow! When we got back to where the Petty family was parked, Kyle instantly grabbed my hand, and said “Man, I spotted you out in the parking lot. I started to stop and pick you up when I was on my way to pick up Daddy at the airport.” Meanwhile, Richard Petty walked right up to my grandfa ther, and said, “So, this is the Ford man I’ve been hearing so much about!” My grandfather introduced himself, and Richard asked, “So, sir, do you live around here?” My grandfather, who once picked cotton in the field that the track stands on, drew himself up, pointed around the track, and said “Richard, I’ve peed on every rock in this field.” I don’t know that I’ve ever seen somebody laugh as hard as Richard laughed. It’s a priceless moment in time for me. I stood there surrounded by people that I had admired for years, and that I continue to admire. Not only that, on a special moment for the family, the Pettys were kind enough to extend the moment to a couple of people that they really didn’t know from the man in the moon. That’s what makes that family so special. And that’s a lesson that the current racing scenes desperately need to learn if they want to keep their fans with them in the long run. For me, that night on April 11, 1998, is a moment that will live forever. Brandon Reed is a reporter for MainStreet Newspapers. E-mail comments about this column to brandon@mainstreetnews.com. brandon reed Please join us for a CAMPAIGN RALLY and BBQ CHICKEN COOKOUT supporting BARRY FLEMING Candidate for United States Congress, 10th District of Georgia at The Pottery 100 Pottery Road Commerce, GA 30529 Saturday, April 19, 2008 5:00 - 7:00 P.M. Paid for by Fleming for Congress Scott Fitzgerald. Treasurer • P. O. Box 2488. Augusta. GA 30903