It may be playoff time, but there is an unresolved regular season issue tugging at my mind. These teams and players just don't fall off the face of the earth, you know?
OK, so I'll be the first to admit that Frank Francisco, the Rangers pitcher who was suspended for the season, is out of his mind. Throw a chair into a group of fans, and you should get the book thrown back at you. Fair enough. But in the witch hunt that has ensued, where can we hear Francisco's side of the story? An apology may come first, but what comes next would be the best part. His rationale. To be expected would be lines such as:
"Most fans come in pursuit of autographs. Isn't a broken nose from a professional ballplayer just a little bit cooler?"
"The ballboy told me I could use his chair and I said 'Really?' and he replied 'Yeah, go nuts with it', so I did."
"You know how a couple of fans attacked that first base coach from Kansas City [Tom Gamboa]? Well, I just thought someone had to pay for that."
"Don't these folks know they aren't supposed to mess with Texas?"
"Hey, at least I didn't throw one of my cleats. Haha ... wow ... imagine getting hit by one of those?"
You see, when told from the right point of view, the episode takes on a little bit of a different light. Seriously, I can think of a hundred times where I probably have deserved multiple fold-up chairs to the nose while I've been at a sporting event.
In 1994, the last year of the ole Boston Garden, I was a suburban punk seventh grader who had just scored pretty sweet seats on the first level for a December game against the reigning champion Houston Rockets, about 15 rows up from the Celts bench. Needless to say, if anyone is familiar with the 1994-1995 Celtics, the atmosphere was a little less than playoff-like. Dominique Wilkins was on the team, but he had left his 1987 legs and court sense at home for the season.
Anyways, in a Garden that resembled a mortuary, we were throwing out what we thought at the time to be some very juicy zings. We thought we could light a fire under our sleep-walking team by hollering trash talk at them in our pre-pubescent voices.
"Hey 'ominique, you're missing something. I think it's D!!"
"Eighteen million (banging on the seats in front of us)(ba ba ba-ba-ba) Eighteen million (ba ba ba-ba-ba)". This was my personal fave, aimed at Croatian forward Dino Radja. This guy was a missed layup waiting to happen, and I'm pretty sure he had a lit Marlboro Red in his mouth on most trips up the floor. Regardless, no contract is worth listening to little jerks who think they know everything (We're in junior high, man. We rock) yell ceaselessly at the floor. He threw a few dirty looks, or what we thought to be dirty looks, in our direction. I wanted to throw a chair at my seventh grade self as I remember this story.
Granted, the fans that Francisco and teammate Doug Brocail targeted in Oakland probably had a bit more coming out of their mouths than contract and performance-based quips. There had to have been some personal attacks the likes of which it is hard for us to comprehend considering how violently the players reacted. But some action should be taken towards fans who are verbally hitting below the belt.
Maybe the Rocky V route would be the best way to go. Like Tommy Gunn pulling Rocky Balboa out of that bar for a street fight for the ages, Francisco could have set an appointment for after the game right in the parking lot of Network Associates Coliseum.
Or it could play out like the WWE, with Francisco stomping up to the PA announcer's microphone, telling any and all what a candy ass that man in section 6J is and announcing in Bob Barker style that he doesn't just want a piece of that man, but rather he wants the whole thing. Fans would get more than they thought they had paid for, a free fight on the Jumbotron at the time they would usually be waiting in traffic after the game. Goodbye endangered bystanders, hello blood-crazed viewer.
All kidding aside, players pulling a Hanson Brothers or a Terry O'Reilly on paying customers shouldn't be tolerated, but fans shouldn't have license to be outright buffoons. I mean, all reports indicate that it wasn't the woman who got hit but rather her husband who was doing most of the talking. He may brag that he's going to keep heckling visiting bullpens, but something tells me his wife won't exactly welcome that idea with open arms.
Part of this plea is to call attention to the fact that Francisco, August's AL Rookie of the Month (3-0, 1.69 ERA) obviously had some aggression to let out, and I am simply calling for avenues onto which said pitcher could release this aggression. The man had his reasons, ya know?
