All language subtitles for The Battered Bastards of Baseball (2014) (The.Battered.Bastards.Of.Baseball.2014.1080P.Netflix.Web-Dl.Dd5.1.X264-Qoq.m4v) (ENGLISH)

It's very interesting how
Bing became interested in

baseball because no one in
his family had played baseball.

They don't even know why
he liked it so much but he did.

Now the Yankees trained in
St. Petersburg and he used to go

and stand outside the wall for
a ball and he got one one day.

Well there were three other
kids and they wanted the ball.

One grabbed it out of his hand.

He went after that kid.

That kid threw
it to another kid.

Finally Bing said I'm
going after one of them.

I'm gonna nail one of them.

And he did and he got the ball and then he
ran back to his dad at the seaplane base.

There was another guy
there talking to his dad.

He said hey kid you don't
have to get in fights for baseball.

I'll get you all the
baseballs you want.

Turned out to be Lefty Gomez.

Bing's life was changed
from the moment he met Lefty.

I can't tell you what a star
he was with the Yankees.

Bing Russell grew up in
every kid's dream in the world

of the Yankees being encouraged
and taught by those guys.

He said Lou Gehrig when he went by
would always ruffle his hair, call him kid.

And Lou Gehrig hit his last
home run the bat boy went

out to get the bat and
Lou Gehrig gave it to Bing.

That was a real treasure.

Bing had this experience of
being in the dugout, riding on

the bus, traveling with all those
wonderful Yankees players.

It's almost hard to believe kid
could have had that experience.

My mom was pregnant when my dad famously
tells the story of leaving Rangeley,

with everybody sort of waving and
saying, well, they'll be back in six weeks,

you know.

And of course, he was a
little harder headed than that.

He was going to California to
make it in the picture business.

Bing just started out, found the
studios, and that's where it all started.

And he was lucky,
he could ride a horse.

And he was good, and he made it.

He worked with a lot of wonderful people,
you know, John Wayne, Ronald Reagan,

Loretta Young, Yul Brynner, Steve
McQueen, oh, on and on and on.

He was a supporting actor.

He's what I call, and I mean this
lovingly, he was a plumber actor.

He went to work,
boom, boom, boom.

He was deputy sheriff
in Bonanza for 13 years.

My dad got killed.

He got killed 126
times, I think it was.

He did over 800
television shows.

He was back in the
day when you worked.

See, I did 104 Bonanzas.

Actually, I did over 700,
but it sounds so unrealistic.

Sometimes I did
three shows a week.

1957, 58, and 59.

I had one week off in 57,
two in 58, and three in 59.

As far as acting went, the
stage was really his preference.

I think probably the one that would stand
out in our family, of course, would be

when he did the play
version of The Music Man.

I don't think Dustin Hoffman
in Rain Man was more

into it than my dad was
into Professor Harold Hill.

So for all of us kids, it was like,
oh my God, if I hear, you know,

if I hear Trouble, there's Trouble in
Rivers Today one more time, it's like, God.

And yet, I look back on it
now and I think, I admire that.

I admire that.

I admire that you can love
to do something that much.

When I was 12, I said that I'd be the
first, I wanted to replace DiMaggio on

center field, be the first Hall of Fame
player to win the Academy Award.

And as you know, I didn't
replace DiMaggio on center

field, and I'm not very
close to the Academy Award.

But I'm still trying.

Bate was a student of baseball.

He loved it.

It was always his first love.

He never, never got tired of
anything to do with baseball.

My mother's backyard was
not a pool and a place to lounge.

Our backyard was a batting cage.

There was no furniture
in the living room.

So I could take ground
balls in the living room.

He had a test that was, I
don't know, 75, 80 pages long.

Situations.

Philosophies.

Pitching to a certain
bat or a certain way.

It was extremely dense baseball.

My dad decided to make
these instructional films.

These were extremely
detailed films.

So much so that when he was
finished making these films, two, three,

four big league managers
used these for his team.

This was no kid's stuff.

This was stuff a lot of major
league ball players didn't know.

Again.

On the ball to the left.

He's ready.

Pivot.

Cross over.

Stay low.

Face the ball.

Remember.

The good pivot and crossover
is the key to covering ground.

He was a deft and deep, deep
student of the game of baseball.

So he had this
tremendous knowledge.

Bing was in his, I think,
early 40s, having a nice

time and going out back and
lounging around in the sun.

And Kurt would see him.

And I don't think he liked
thinking his dad wasn't

doing something more than
just lying around in the sun.

I started seeing my dad as someone
who was losing interest in things.

He didn't seem very interested in the
movie business as much as he used to.

He was having fun
watching me play.

But I felt like my
dad wasn't vibrant.

He wasn't doing a lot.

After 70 years, baseball in Portland came
to an end Wednesday when the directors of

the Pacific Coast League
approved the transfer

of the Portland Beavers
to Spokane, Washington.

The owners of the Beavers said that
Portland as a baseball town needs a rest.

So it looks like there'll
be no baseball this coming

season and we wouldn't
consider the Alec a bright one.

I would agree that there was a
surprise when the Beavers left town.

It kind of shocked the town.

They just assumed, well, hey,
the Beavers have been here forever.

They're our team.

Portland had been
abandoned by the Beavers.

And I think people had a lot
of different feelings about that.

I think a lot of them
were pissed off.

Well, the Beavers left to go to a much
smaller town because they were dying here.

Attendance was down
and they were losing money.

And there wasn't
much change in sight.

I mean, it wasn't one of
those things where there

was a buzz about, oh,
you got to go to the ballpark.

I mean, it wasn't
that feeling in town.

And I guarantee you could have interviewed
people in Portland and said, name,

you know, three Portland
or one Portland Beavers.

No one would have
been able to do it.

I mean, people didn't even know
who the players were anymore.

It was open territory.

And there was no prospects
of anybody coming here until

somebody showed up that
wasn't a little bit of a surprise.

My dad got to talking with John
Carberry about it and they said, you know,

what about putting an A club in there and
doing something with the Northwest League?

And we looked at each
other and we said, let's see if

we can go up to Portland
and create something up there.

When we first heard
about Bing Russell, I think

there was this buzz about,
well, who's Bing Russell?

Everybody said, well, you know, Bing
Russell's coming in now and he was in

the Magnificent Seven
and he's the sheriff

on Bonanza and you've
seen him on Maverick.

It was like Christ
walking on water.

We couldn't believe it.

What, he's coming to Portland?

There was nothing
happening in Portland.

Why would Bing
Russell come to Portland?

Oregon is pretty provincial.

We don't like outsiders.

So when this guy from Southern
California who was an actor

was going to come to Portland,
there was a lot of skepticism.

It just seemed like it
was going to be some

bizarre story that was
never going to work.

He shows up and
he says he's an actor.

And he has a
baseball background.

Well, we don't know
anything about that.

You know, who is this guy?

Maybe it was a joke or
promotion or he had a side

angle or, you know, what
was his reason for coming?

The problem with baseball on the
minor league level is being connected and

affiliated to a big league
team, they can take the ball

players and put them
wherever they want at any time.

You never really know who
your third baseman is going to be.

You don't get to know
your first baseman, your

catchers, your
pitchers, your outfielders.

If one of them is having a good
year, they're going to move up.

So for the town,
it's disastrous.

But my dad grew up in the time
when there was independent baseball.

They were independent
from the big league teams.

They were on their own.

The way baseball used to be structured,
there were all kinds of independent teams.

The team was owned
by someone of the city.

And then there were
teams that were completely

affiliated with the
big league team.

They have anywhere from their highest
level, which is triple A, next double A,

next lower A.

By the time the 70s came
around, no independent teams.

Only affiliated.

Bing Russell, as most of you
know, is the sheriff on Bonanza.

And he's one heck
of a baseball fan.

He's been in the Northwest for the
last two or three years on location and

watching his son play ball
with Bend and Walla Walla.

So I've spent some time
with Mr. Russell organizing

a baseball operation
for the city of Portland.

It will be an
independent operation.

The players will be signed
by the Portland Baseball Club.

And if they are successful, they will be
controlled by the Portland Baseball Club.

I started with the Northwest
League in probably, you know, 1972.

And I think we charged
Bing $500 for the franchise.

So if you had 500 bucks
and a Bank of America

card or a visa, you
were pretty much in.

My first perception of Bing
was that he talked a lot.

He was telling us and the
league what he intended to do.

Independent baseball.

So that means Bing had to get his players
scouted, signed, and pay them himself.

All the other franchises in the league
at that time were affiliated with major

league teams, where the
players were scouted, signed,

salaries paid, insurance
paid, by the major league club.

Seattle will be a farm
club of Cincinnati.

Bellingham will be a
farm club of the L.A.

Dodgers.

Lewiston will be a farm club of
the world champion Oakland A's.

And Walla Walla will be
working with San Diego Padres.

So when you start an
independent team, you've got two

strikes against you because
of all the additional overhead.

I don't think that there was any interest
whatsoever in an independent Class A team.

When you just lost this classy
Triple A or open classification team.

It was like you're driving a Cadillac
and all of a sudden somebody says,

here, you're going
to drive this Beetle.

You know, prestige-wise, you
know, that was an insult to the city.

I literally drove
in there one night.

You know, I got a key, opened a
door, and went to the phone book.

I had the phone book call up.

Hi, my name's Kurt Russell.

I'm with the Portland Mavericks with
the new baseball team here in town.

Have you heard about us?

Well, we're a new
baseball team here in town.

No, they hadn't heard about us.

We just started
doing this stuff, right?

We started walking the
streets and going out and

getting, you know, some
promotions done here and there.

So we started from scratch.

First time I met Bing, he walked in
my bar, and I heard this voice say,

howdy, gents.

And he said gents in such a way, it was
like there was a real new sheriff in town.

And he just lit the room up.

And from then on, it was like when
Bing walked in, everybody paid attention.

Frank LaFlake Peters.

And he lived up to the nickname.

He was a Californian who
had come up to Oregon

State to play baseball
there, of course.

Went on to play in the Baltimore
Orioles AAA organization.

And as a third baseman
playing behind Brooks Robinson,

you didn't have much
shot going up beyond that.

Baltimore called me and said
that they wanted to sign me.

And I asked them, I says,
well, who's your third baseman?

And they said, well,
we got a guy there.

His name's Brooks Robinson.

And I said, well, doesn't sound
like a big league name to me.

16 years later, he was still
making the All-Star team.

So I'm still waiting
for my chance.

You never did have a major league
goal at the end of your career, did you?

My goal was to be something like
Babe Ruth or something like that.

So I said, okay, it doesn't
look like I'm going to

be what I originally
anticipated being in this game.

So I'm going to enjoy it and play it on my
own terms, which were playing Portland.

So Bing finally decided, I'm going to hire
Frank Peters as the manager of the team

because he was so well known in
this market and he was a sports hero.

Money really wasn't a factor.

Bing had his guidelines
on what he would pay.

I think it was $500 a month or
something like that for three months.

So it was all about the
love of the game, really.

And so Bing and I got
on the same horse and off

we went, him in the
front and me in the back.

This is Portland, Oregon,
home of the Northwest League's

Portland Mavericks, one of
the last of the independent clubs.

Owned by an actor, Bing Russell, and
managed by a restaurant owner named

Frank Peters, the club's
general manager is unique, too.

Her name is Lani Moss.

How does an independent
club get players?

Well, they put an ad in the
Sporting News announcing tryouts.

First of all, we had to
put ballplayers together.

And Bing said, you never
know what we're going to find.

We're going to
have open tryouts.

You're going to get
talent out of open tryouts?

That's a little unbelievable.

Everybody that had any talent was going to
get drafted by a major league team to play

in its farm system somewhere and
hopefully elevate to the major leagues.

It's considered laughable.

And they went straight for the
laughs, which is just what Bing wanted.

Let them have their field day.

Let them chew us up.

Let them just show
us for the idiots we are,

the fools that we are,
coming from Hollywood.

First thoughts, I couldn't
even tell you what they were.

They're probably unprintable.

It was like, what
is this all about?

It was a joke.

And to think that it could even
work was even more of a joke.

It was a bad joke.

You know, you'd expect
maybe 40 or 50 people

to show up, and I
think 300 showed up.

Sitting in the stands,
kind of watching it, you're

thinking, who are these
guys that they're getting?

Guys who drove, you know, clear across the
country and, you know, sacrificed this or

sold this or whatever else just for the
chance to come and try out for the team.

They came hitchhiked here.

You know, they did whatever they
could to show up and try to hang on.

We had a great dream.

I think it's the American dream, you
know, just to have the chance to play.

Being a Major League Baseball player
is not necessarily a worthwhile goal,

but being a professional baseball
player, I think, is a worthwhile goal.

How long did it
take you to get here?

About four and a half days.

I don't care, you
know, about the money.

I just want to play ball.

Baseball is my first love.

I've always got that
dream that I'll make it,

but I probably have
to tell myself I won't.

Everybody there
had been rejected.

I personally, my career had
ended, and I felt I'd been rejected.

All of the players had
felt they'd been rejected.

And maybe even Bing in
Hollywood had felt he'd been rejected.

As far as those of you
who don't make it, which

is the bulk, that's the
way the pickle squirts.

But a lot of you,
we got one boy from

Tennessee, a couple
from New York and whatnot.

You've had a hell of a trip.

The press should get
a hold of some of you.

One guy lost his
glove and his spikes.

Another guy lost
his checks in Lincoln,

Nebraska, and somehow
or other labored in here.

This is Frank
Peters, our manager.

He's the boss, and
he'll run these tryouts.

It became apparent that Bing
was putting all these parts together.

So Bing was literally casting a play,
and everybody had a part or a role to play.

And the neat thing about
it was that you felt you

knew what your role was,
and you knew how you fit in.

I first heard about the Mavericks having
breakfast at the Carnaby Hotel in Three

Anchor Bay at the very
bottom of Cape Town.

My dad had sent me a packet
of news clippings, and the

Sporting News had a story of
independent baseball in Portland.

And I said, I think I'm going to go
back and do some substitute teaching,

make a few dollars, and go
to Oregon and see if I could

play baseball out there
with this independent team.

What are you looking
for in these guys?

I'm looking for someone
that can play for

the Mavs, and not
necessarily a big leaguer.

And what we're looking for is
the ballplayer that organizations,

for whatever reason, whatever they choose,
do not think can play in the big leagues.

These are the guys that wish
they could and haven't been able to.

Out of college, I
went straight home.

I didn't get drafted.

I can't believe they didn't
want a left-handed catcher.

It makes no sense to me.

And my dad said, there's tryouts down
in Portland for this Portland Mavericks.

I go, what's that mean, Dad?

He goes, go try
out for the team.

So I went down there and tried out,
and there was like 500 people there.

And I went back there and
caught, and I was throwing

some people out, and a
ring call comes up to me.

He goes, did you know
you're left-handed?

I feel like I am the first
and only left-handed

catcher who ever signed
a professional contract.

So I think that my glove
should be in the Hall of Fame.

Not me, my glove.

When I decided to try out for
the Mavericks, I was 33 years old.

I was a high school English
teacher, and I had played in

one major league game, and
that was the end of my career.

And so I just thought that
playing for the Mavericks

would be a better alternative
to painting fucking houses.

When I showed up, I
looked like Charlie Manson,

or as my mother called
him, the Lost Years.

It was clearly the only team in America
that would have let me even try out.

As a kid, Bing
was bigger than life.

He had this idea of putting
together this instructional tape.

I was 10, 11 years old and was hanging
around the field, and he saw me over by

the fence looking through, and he
said, ah, get in here to do something.

11-year-old John Yashawara, tomorrow's
pitcher at the local Little League Park.

On the big club, he's
known as the Pigtail.

He shags, picks up,
and tries his level best to

learn all he can about
his first love, baseball.

Bing, I think, followed me from
afar, and he liked the way I played.

I was never drafted.

In the back of my mind,
Bing had always said, if it

doesn't work out, come
up to Portland and try out.

I was 11, and I showed up at
the tryouts just like everybody else.

And I didn't show up to try out.

I showed up to try
out as a bat boy.

And I remember talking to Rob
and saying, I got to be the bat boy.

I mean, I got to be the bat boy.

I remember Rob just
saying, just hustle so

much to where they
can't not give it to you.

I was insane.

I'd line up the bats.

I'd scrub everything down on me.

I was just like, I was
always in motion.

I never stopped moving.

And I remember finally
I heard this whistle, you

know, and I looked up in
the stands, and it was Bing.

And he said, hey,
kid, come up here.

And I came and sat down, and he
said, he said, I wish I had 10 more of you.

And that was it.

And I was the bat boy.

He was the most...

most fair and talented
observer of a player that not

only I ever saw, but many,
many people who knew him.

It's all said about Bing.

This guy can read a ball
player as good as anybody.

He just had this ability.

So he was in a perfect
position to sort of take this

club and have the best
chance to succeed with it.

Well, it's exciting, of
course, to look at the season

just around the corner,
but so far it looks very good.

We haven't lost one yet.

We've got 84 to
play, and at this point

we've still got a chance
to win all of them.

I'm really excited.

It's just a great-looking
bunch of young men.

I think the big difference between the
Portland Mavericks as an independent team

versus the affiliated teams that
we played, one was to have fun.

We really emphasized fun.

I mean, we could play fundamental
baseball, but you had to really step back

and just savor the
moment because we had...

we had guys who were in their 30s who were
still trying to play single-A baseball.

The Eugene Emeralds,
a Cincinnati Reds affiliate.

Everybody's pants
were the same length.

The stirrups were this...

you know, the shaving, the haircuts,
it was much more regimented.

The organizations wanted
to kind of set the tone.

Most of the Mavericks
had a little bit of a paunch.

You know, they led
the league in stubble.

And a lot of guys had
literally had toes coming

through their spikes,
so they were stunned.

What kind of team is this?

It's certainly not
what they were part of.

There was no press handlers.

There was no groomed image.

There was just these furry, hairy,
funny, fucking great bunch of guys.

The perception of the Major
League people was, we'll put up

with those guys and play them,
but no more than we have to.

A little bit of arrogance there,
thinking these guys aren't going to be as

good as us, and,
you know, but at least

they'll provide an
opponent for the evening.

It was more of a
joke than anything.

And the curiosity to see
how long this would last.

Now it's...

we're coming down
to the first game.

And it really is.

The rubber's going
to hit the road tonight.

We're going to go out there and, you
know, who knows, maybe we're going to

get beat 20 to nothing,
and the nightmare is on.

You know, who knows?

We don't know for sure.

We think we've got some
competitive ballplayers.

And the first inning and
the second inning goes on

and we're leading the game,
and pretty soon it's down.

And we realize...

we're ahead, yeah,
but have they...

has the other team got any hits?

And the last out is recorded,
and the first game of the

Portland Mavericks thrown by
Gene Lanthorn was a no-hitter.

And we looked at each other and
we said, this is going to be magic.

This is going to be magic.

And we said
yeah let's play this!

They didn't have anybody
that was going to hit home runs.

They didn't have anybody that was going
to be ...to be the big power pitchers.

They built this
thing around speed.

They stole bases and stole bases,
took chances, they were reckless,

and it usually paid off.

And they built this thing
around this Reggie Thomas,

who had a gift not only
of speed, but he had flair.

He was our star.

And if you have a star,
then you can do other things.

But you better have a
star, and he was our star.

But he knew it.

And it's nice that the
star knows he's a star.

Reggie lived at the
Mallory Hotel, which is,

like, literally one block
from Civic Stadium.

And before every single game, a car came
down the back ramp, and as that car came

down the ramp to go underneath, our
announcer would yell, Here comes Reggie!

And people went nuts.

And people, rightly so, asked Bing,
What the fuck do you get a car for Reggie?

He lives a block away.

And he said, Because
Reggie needs that.

We just never gave up,
and we were relentless.

I didn't have any signs, and if you
stole bases, then steal the base.

And if you want to hit
home runs, hit home runs.

So there wasn't anything restricting
them from giving it one last go.

It may be the best ball club at this level
than any ball club I've ever played on.

So if they continue with the way they're
playing, we should dominate the league.

We have a darn good ball club.

No weaknesses at all.

Unless it's in the management.

We knew we were basically
better than most of these people.

We played against all
these franchise teams.

We played against Ozzie
Smith, Dave Henderson.

Dave Stewart was
with the Dodgers.

Mike Socha was a young catcher.

We kicked the shit out of them.

We were beating the pants
off of the organizations.

It was a continual headache because
those guys were out to prove a point.

One of the points they
wanted to prove was

they could beat organized
baseball franchises.

They didn't want to play us.

You know, because independent
beating these big bonus babies.

I think they were embarrassed.

Now we had a bunch of
ragamuffins beating the shit out of us.

Now last night, of course, the Mavericks
just ripped the Mariners very badly.

The Mavericks are hungry and
they're mad and we want to win.

That's what's going
to be on my mind.

It wasn't good.

I got a lot of flak from Major League Farm
directors because independent baseball was

going to make them
look bad for players they

didn't sign or did sign
that they released.

And the fact that they would
show up to their own teams.

They found out that they are not infallible
as far as being able to judge talent.

They've already gone to
their It's kind of a miracle that

Bing was able to put
together any kind of team at all.

The fact that that team was able to perform
playing against all these huge bonus babies

The Portland Mavericks' success story
with independent baseball was recognized

nationally Monday when a sporting
news named Maverick owner Bing Russell,

the Class A Executive
of the Year for 1974.

The weekly paper, considered the baseball
bible, said Russell's selection was

unanimous.

The award will be presented to Russell
by Yankee Hall of Famer Lefty Gomez.

The award is a very cherished
award in the world of baseball.

To win that award as the only
independent operator was just amazing.

They would have baseball meetings and this
is where these awards would be presented

and Bing would go representing the
Mavericks where everybody else was

representing a major
league team or their affiliates.

He was by himself.

It would be like winning an Oscar
by doing an independent film.

You were with all the famous
stars and you win the Oscar.

Here I am with all these people
that run the show and I won.

We'll take that.

The summer of 1973 was the happiest
summer of my life in this great stadium.

Lefty Gomez was here.

He said, I haven't seen
anything like it since 1929.

It was an exciting, exciting year and this
is just the greatest baseball city in the

world if it's not the
greatest city in the world.

The following NBC Sports program
is brought to you in living color.

Joe Caragiola was a
sportscaster for NBC Sports.

You know, he played
professional baseball.

He's an icon.

Everybody knew who he was.

When Joe Caragiola came to
town, he put us on the national map.

It was a national special and before that,
everybody in the Northwest knew about us.

But when he did this special,
everybody in the country knew about us.

Bing, if I had to call Central
Casting and get the perfect

character to own this ball
club, you would be the one.

Quickly, give me the yellow
page reading of your background.

Well, it's been my
game since I was nine.

Lefty Gomez picked
me up as a youngster.

I was the peanut smuggler for the
Yankees back from 1936 through 1941.

And five of those years, we
were champions of the world.

And then I later played ball myself, played
a little at Dartmouth and played pro ball.

Played Clem for 13 and a half years
on Vanessa and never solved a case.

Sports fans loved that show.

He came out here
and gave credibility to it.

That's right.

You got a fan club
for you, haven't they?

Yeah, I'm the one
with the fan club.

And I played in all the
games and then I got released.

But I stuck around.

I didn't go home.

And I told them I was going to
stay until I could get back on the club.

And I guess the fans
sort of identified with that.

But if you get released here, I
know that's the bottom of the barrel.

He had so much footage that they had to
do two shows, which he'd never done before.

And he was only here for a day.

What do I do if I want to come
in and try to join the program?

Portland Mavericks.

You fill out a card.

I fill out a card, like this.

Like this.

Press coverage of the
Mavericks was phenomenal.

There were articles
in Sports Illustrated.

And there was a huge
article in the New Yorker.

They don't even have room to
cover the major leagues in full.

And they give up space
to cover a single A-team?

The reason we were getting national
exposure is we were doing things different.

I don't think we thought
of ourselves as celebrities.

We were ballplayers.

I'm amazed that anyone came
up and wanted my autograph.

There were so
many things going on.

It was so much fun.

It was so different.

And we just happened to be fortunate
enough to have to write about it every day.

That was good
publicity for the league.

Bing got more than
his share, I'll tell you.

It was great for the league
and great for the game.

Jim Bowden, as you probably know,
is the former Major League Baseball

pitcher who wrote the controversial
best-selling book, Ball Four.

And this spring, after
seven years after retiring

from baseball, he decided
to make a comeback.

He is now the ace pitcher for the Portland
Mavericks of the Class A Northwest League.

Would you welcome Jim Bowden.

Having grown up on Long Island in the
middle 60s, I remembered high school

teammates wanted
to be Jim Bowden.

He had this overhand motion
where his hat fell off after each pitch.

And part of his
follow-through was he would go

down and pick up his
hat on his way back up.

Jim Bowden was a big deal and a very good
pitcher with the Yankees during kind of

the end of their heyday with Roger
Marris and Mickey Mantle and Yogi Berra.

And then to have made the All-Star
team and then pitch in the World Series,

Jim could play.

He was the man.

He wrote the first expose on what was
going on behind the scenes in baseball

after he'd been a World
Series hero for the Yankees.

And baseball just turned its back on
him because he had broken all the taboos.

Yeah, well, you said quite a few things
now when you wrote your book, Ball Four,

which created a little
furor among ball players.

Ball Four scared
the shit out of people.

You know, and the behavior that he was
describing, the outlandish behavior that

he describes on some of those road
trips in the back of the bus, you know,

guys kissing each other
and stuff, you know, that really

freaked people out, people
taking greenies and all that.

I mean, that's nothing compared to
what happened with the Mavericks.

The establishment in baseball were appalled
that somebody kind of broke the veil.

They were not pleased.

Jim Boughton was blackballed by
all of baseball, except the Mavericks.

This is probably the only place
he could have made a comeback.

Jim came out, and he
fit right in with the team.

Since this time, somebody was
quoting, the owner of your team, I guess,

saying that, he's just a
boy, he'll always be a boy.

What did he mean?

That you're always going
to be childlike, or what?

Well, I don't know.

I guess because I
want to play baseball.

For a guy to go from Yankee pinstripes,
you know, Lou Gehrig, Babe Ruth,

Whitey Ford, you know, Lefty Gomez,
all these famous New York Yankees,

to the carnival that Bing created,
it was just, it's such a great story.

I like Portland very much.

I like Bing Russell.

I like the fans here.

So I'm really looking
forward to coming back.

Kind of a nutty
ball club, anyhow.

It's got character to it.

It certainly isn't close to my home, and
it certainly doesn't pay me much money.

I really, I like the competition, and
I like waking up in the morning and

thinking that today
could be the day that I

put it all together and
go to the big leagues.

You said you were what, 37 now?

37.

38.

38.

Now, how about
the other players?

How do they relate to you?

Because you don't, well,
first of all, you don't look 38.

Actually, I fit in better
with these kids than I

did 15 years ago when I
came up with the Yankees.

When I first came up in 1962, if you
were an outspoken person or had opinions,

you were really the
oddball in the clubhouse.

In the major leagues,
it's a little different than

when you're pitching for
the Portland Mavericks, right?

I assume it's not too
financially rewarding.

No.

Listen, I'm here for the 371.75, because
that's, to me, that's a month's salary.

Is that what you...

Yeah, 400 a month is what we make
when Portland Mavericks make that.

At the end of The Tonight
Show, Jim was talking,

and he said, wait, wait,
wait, Johnny, one minute.

How much time do we have?

Just about half a minute.

I just got to say one thing.

I just want to thank all the guys that are
backing me and the Portland Mavericks.

Okay.

Of course, my teammates told me
that if I read their names on television,

that my defense might
be better behind them.

He pulled out a list, and he
read every single fucking name.

Real quick.

Jim Swanson, Bob Foster, Cliff Holland,
Cutt Collette, Joe Garza, Bill Martinez,

Doc Wilbur, John Yoshawara, Ed Gilliam,
Terry Lee, Silky Cervantes, Dan Palmer,

Corky Cork, and
Buster Atterberg.

Evelyn Wood can
do this for you, too.

Tomorrow night, Orson
Bean, Andy Kaufman, Eugene

Bordeaux, and Joan Embry
from the San Diego Zoo.

In hindsight, I understand it.

In hindsight, I understand, okay,
Bing Russell knew what he was doing.

Bing Russell was
a master showman.

I mean, it was beyond baseball.

It was almost like you had this mad
chemist in this laboratory, and it was a

big experiment as to what was gonna
happen, and some things would blow up in

his face, but the whole
thing was you never

knew how the experiment
was gonna turn out.

He kept taking it to another level
and another level and another level,

breaking new ground and
actually changing baseball.

All these firsts, you know, John
Yoshawara coming in as the first, you know,

Asian manager.

There was a Batgirl,
Penny Clemo.

Someone like Lanny Moss is, you
know, the first female general manager.

She's a young lady of 24 as your
general manager, which is different.

Last year she ran it in
August for two weeks,

and I must say she
ran it better than I did.

She's just doing
a tremendous job.

What does your job entail?

It's a number of things.

It's everything from the ticket sellers
and running out and selling tickets when

you least expect it to coming out
and singing the national anthem.

I one time asked him,
I said, Bing, how come

you have such a variety
of people around you?

And he says, Frank, he says, life and,
he says, the Mavericks are like a movie.

And a movie has one key scene.

Maybe it's only three minutes.

I think he talked about the chimney
sweep scene in Mary Poppins.

Everything builds up to that,
and everything comes off of that.

And he says, you never
know who's going to come

up with that magical idea
with that magic moment.

He would keep guys on the roster
who had no business being there.

He would keep a, what he kept, I think
he kept like a 30-man roster or something.

That's fucking nuts.

For a Class A baseball
team with really no funding,

what's he doing keeping
30 guys on a roster?

What he did was he personalized the
game in a way to where if you couldn't find

yourself as a fan in one of those players,
you didn't belong at that ballpark.

You know, there was
somebody there for everyone.

Bing knew he was giving
the town of Portland a show,

and he was going to give
them the best show he could.

Bing wanted to create this idea of
a target for the fans to get behind.

He created a character,
and it wasn't Joe Garza.

J-O-E space G-A-R-Z-A.

It was Joe Garza.

It's a Joe Garza.

So it wasn't like, we're going
to sweep the other team.

It's like, we're going
to Joe Garza the team.

And then every time we swept, and
if it was two games and we won both,

it was a sweep as far
as Bing was concerned.

You know, he had Joe get up on the,
you know, on the backstop, or in some

cases in Civic Stadium, he would put
him out in the center field, you know,

up in the stands, our equivalent of the
Green Monster, in front of everybody.

And he'd do the sweep,
and then he'd light this

fucking broom on fire
and wave it over his head.

And it was a dangerous broom.

I know that because
I made these brooms.

I mean, I was given the task of making
these in my parents' garage, where I'd

have to paint these
things, and then they'd

be soaked in liner
fluid and then dried out.

I mean, it was like
a tiki torch out there.

And the fans were
just beside themselves.

They thought it was so, number one,
inappropriate, but also kind of funny.

It was all, you could only do that if
you were the Portland Mavericks.

But then when we were on the verge of
sweeping, a week or two or three later,

fans started bringing
their own brooms.

They wanted to
participate in the thing.

Well, you know, sometimes
games, baseball games are dull.

Got up on top, and
we chanted sweep.

And we did it.

And now, Bing Russell, the owner, really
liked it, and he wanted me to do it again.

You know, all they
can do is fine me.

Bing, you know, he's been
taking care of my fines.

And certainly, Bing, like
I say, didn't discourage

a lot of the antics
that the players did.

I think he egged them on a lot
of times, honestly, to do things.

I remember we had
one game in Eugene.

I think four players got
thrown out of the game.

Collette got thrown
out of the game.

And I got thrown
out of the game.

Because I began to parrot
what was being said a little

too loud, and they actually
removed me from the game.

And I went up to the stands,
and Bing was up in the stands.

We were all, everyone who had been
thrown out of the game was sitting around,

Bing was behind everybody's
ears, The thing with the

Mavericks is there was
always something going on.

I think the Portland Mavericks
were the first ones to have a ball dog.

He became more popular
than some of the players.

Whenever it looked
like the pitcher needed a

rest, they'd throw the
ball out on the field.

The dog would go out and the
umpire would have to stop the game.

The things that happened on
the field were absolutely insane.

Jim Bowden said it, he says,
you know Frank, this is the

first time that baseball has
really made sense to me.

Peter Bavese, son of Buzzy
Bavese with the Dodgers.

He was there, I
think as a scout.

But anyway, we
were in the dugout.

I was sitting next to him.

And at the end of the game,
it was the end of the sweep.

Everybody...

took a victory lap, led by Bing.

And Peter Bavese said,
what is, what is Bing doing?

And I said, well,
he's having fun.

And that was part of
the secret of the Mavs.

They were fun.

And they did stuff that,
you know, the stodgy

folks in baseball would
say you shouldn't do.

I've had a number of
conversations with foreign

directors and stuff
about, I'd say lighten up.

I mean, this guy, this is great for the
league and it's helping your players

develop because we're
playing in front of crowds

and not 30 or 40 people
like in the old days.

But the fans loved it.

And I loved it.

But I just couldn't
tell Bing I loved it.

Looking back on it, there
wasn't really a Maverick

mania that was more
like a Maverick maniacs.

And it was what we were
watching that made it such a mania.

I've never seen a ball team and fans
behave the way they did with the Mavericks.

Look at the attendance
records for the Mavericks.

We broke attendance records in
the entire minor leagues that year.

We may have had the highest attendance
record of any minor league team in history.

They set a record
for short A attendance.

I think it was 127,000 people.

People came out to see
what this was all about.

Was this really baseball?

Was it just an act?

It was baseball with a lot
of flair and a lot of fun to it.

It was just an amazing
feat at the time.

We're Portland's baseball team.

We've drawn over
4,000 people a game.

Our average for the 31 play
dates is 4,046 officially paid here.

It's incredible how this
city supports baseball.

If you were a fan, you
wanted to show up.

I mean, you wanted to show up
because you knew all those guys.

There was no distance.

It was a totally different time.

It was our team.

Completely different from being
a Met fan, Chicago Cubs fan.

Portland was experiencing
something that was theirs.

It was Portland's
Maverick baseball team.

Probably the best way for me to
tie it up for you is to compare it with,

for instance, a Music Man where we
came to know the people in River City,

Iowa through the adventures of
Professor Harold Hill and a boys' band.

And here, we've been
allowed to come to know the

people of Portland through
a boys' baseball team.

Major League
Baseball is a product.

It's a corporate product.

It's farmed out the same way.

Major League teams
have farm clubs for one

reason only, and that's
just to develop players.

It's all about developing product
to get to the Major Leagues.

They don't care if
the farm club wins.

They don't really
care about the team.

They don't care about the city.

They have no
investment in the city.

When you try to select places for
AAA clubs, what do you look for?

Well, you look for the facility
where you can develop your

players as quickly as possible
and under ideal conditions.

We just think it's a
great place to train our

club, and we're tickled
enough to be here.

Minor League Baseball, they've got guys
above and below them that are going to

make it increasingly
hard for them to do bold

things or to operate
from their gut, necessarily.

And that's...

that's what Bing did.

He didn't give a shit, you know?

He didn't have to
answer to anybody.

And he was loyal to the people
that he invited to the party.

It's that simple.

Organized Baseball
didn't like Bing, and they did

everything they could to
make sure Bing didn't win.

Baseball is still, to this day,
very much an old boys' network.

And he did not fit in
with their culture at all.

They didn't want anybody from the outside
having success, and they didn't want

anybody rubbing their nose in, you guys
couldn't make it in Portland, and I can't.

Did you accomplish
what you set out to do?

Exactly.

My hope was that independent
baseball could survive.

It did.

I felt that there were ballplayers
released too early, ballplayers not

signed, who could play at this
level, and we proved that they could.

He couldn't stand them.

They couldn't stand him.

He didn't want to do
anything like they did.

The only thing they did was build a
pyramid game that they're still playing.

Not a world my dad
was very interested in.

He wasn't interested in the pyramid
game, he was interested in baseball.

He was more creative,
inventive, and, I think, intelligent.

And by intelligence, I mean,
did it for the right reasons.

And he'd go as far as he could.

He would go as far as he could.

Being independent,
we've learned some things.

You see, our boys make less than the
boys who are signed by major league

organizations make, and I thought
there might be a problem there.

But I tell you, we ride in the best buses,
and now we own our own, and we stay in the

best hotels, and
we have the fanciest

uniforms, and we also
play the best baseball.

In fact, there were quite a
few boys in the organizations

who talked to me about
playing for Portland.

He was going against
the old canons of baseball.

He was out to prove that
independent baseball could work.

It was all about winning the division
and ultimately winning the pennant.

It was the one thing that Bing was
missing, and that was the championship,

just the icing on the cake.

We don't make any
bones about it down there.

We want one thing, the pennant.

It's the only thing we haven't done,
and Portland hasn't had one since 1945,

and we just have
to win a pennant.

And if we think that
way, the ball club will

think that way, and
we're going to get it.

That's all there is to it.

We're going to win the pennant.

We have to.

The pressure to win the pennant
for the Mavericks was huge.

Our ballplayers are, I think, as tough
of ballplayers as there are in the league,

and we have an excellent opportunity if
the ball bounces right, which that's what

baseball is all about, and
it's not over until two outs,

and we've got a heck of a
chance of winning the pennant.

Bing recognized that.

If we can have all the side
lights you want, and all the

crazy stories and all that,
but our first job is to win.

His first night out there,
he couldn't even warm up.

There were so many people
trying to get autographs and

get him to sign his book,
and nobody knew what he had.

He could have been a disaster.

And he was brilliant.

Let's put my helmet on because
I was going to go on deck.

I saw Bowdoin standing up.

I've been just in the game.

And all I could do as I looked
at him, I thought, there's Bulldog.

You know, there's
the guy who's...

He was, I think, in four
different World Series.

And I said, I just got to know.

I mean, you've been there, man.

What's the comparison?

He said, oh, are you kidding?

He said, when the
baseball's good and you're

in it, he said, it's
exactly the same.

He said, let me
ask you a question.

I said, what?

He said, where else on the planet
would you rather be right now?

I said, nowhere.

I want to be right
here right now.

He said, that's it.

Bing came and talked to us.

He said, here's
what I want you to do.

And I want a championship.

And I don't give a
shit how you do it.

There was a hunger there.

The Maverick players
would run through walls.

They love beating
organized teams, but the

organized team wanted
to beat them as well.

We definitely had a
target on our backs.

The games really mattered to us.

The city really mattered to us.

For us, this was the end.

I think you have a good chance
for the pennant this year, Frank.

Oh, unquestionably.

If we don't win the pennant,
then I'll take the responsibility for it.

What Bing Russell
did here, and that is

bring independent
baseball back to baseball.

And it looks like it may work.

We had the highest
winning percentage of

all levels of professional
baseball in 1977.

From the big leagues to
the lowest minor leagues,

nobody won two games out
of three for a whole season.

What would happen when we'd get,
usually because we'd make the playoffs

every year, what would happen is
teams would suddenly, in the playoffs,

send players who had played
at a higher classification down.

We saw players with a little
bit more zip on their fastball and

a little more power at the
plate near the end of the season.

The organizations will filter other
ballplayers in to make sure that we don't

dominate the league, but our goal
is to dominate the league, of course.

The affiliated teams were
sending guys down to the

Northwest League to try
and beat the Mavericks.

If they felt like they had to do
that, then we'll beat them, too.

They knew that they
were in for a battle.

We

really played fast.

Fair and square.

I think the Mavs would have
won probably a couple pennants.

It was a time where they wanted
you to kind of follow the code.

But staying with the
code had failed in Portland.

If a team was just another farm
club, it wouldn't have been the same.

You know, what made the team
work was because it was independent.

What made the team work was
because you had these quirky guys.

But at the bottom
of it, it was baseball.

It was baseball the
way baseball was really

supposed to be played,
for the love of the game.

People in baseball, that's
not what they do it for.

They do it because they want to make
money, or they do it because they want to

make control, you know, or
who knows what they do it for.

But they don't do it, unfortunately,
most of them, for the love of the game.

I was looking forward
to the 78 season.

There were a lot of rumors that
AAA was looking at Portland again.

The first thing I did was
call Kurt, and I said, is it true?

I think Bing took it a lot more
serious than a lot of the other people.

I mean, it just seemed
impossible to happen.

AAA ball hasn't
worked here before.

Why would they
come in and do it now?

We didn't realize that a team
could just come in and do that.

By the end of the parade, and all that
had taken place in between, the AAA PCL

decided to come back
and take their spot back.

And in those days, per the baseball
blue book, and of course the golden rule of

whatever is in the best interest of
baseball, they were going to come in and

they could take
it over for $5,000.

Isn't that a self-serving
line of logic?

Well, it's baloney.

I think that's a
bunch of bullshit.

A baseball territory is
a piece of geography.

It's a circle.

It's drawn from home plate.

And so within 90 miles of home plate
in a circle, you own an exclusive right to

operate within the baseball
establishment, within organized baseball.

That's yours.

So if you draft a territory, that's when
a higher league comes in and says,

we're going to
take your territory.

Goodbye.

What does regulated mean
in connection with baseball?

Baseball is a monopoly.

They were authorized by the U.S.

Supreme Court decades ago.

Decades ago, they said, they're
not subject to the antitrust laws.

Baseball was viewed as
an American institution that

shouldn't be under the
rules as the rest of us.

On behalf of the new stockholders of
the Portland Beavers, I am very pleased to

announce that the Portland Beavers
will field a team in the coming season,

a very good team and a very competitive
team, and a team that I am sure that the

city of Portland and the surrounding
area will be quite proud of.

It was sudden.

It was real sudden.

It was a shock to my system.

We were through
playing baseball.

The Mavericks
threatened the status quo.

There's another way to
do this business of baseball.

We had set attendance records.

We were on national TV.

One of those years, the Mavericks
outdrew a whole other minor league.

Baseball could and did say, we
own that territory, we want it back.

Baseball worked on
their own set of rules.

It was that cockiness that they
could do whatever they wanted.

Baseball took a look at it and said,
hey, we need to put a team back in

Portland, and let's put
a Triple-A team back in.

And you can do that,
but then you have to pay

the previous owner
the rights to the territory.

And that became the big
issue, was they didn't want to

pay Bing very much money
for the rights to the territory.

And while we've gotten together,
Bing, and we've talked about it and we

realize what you've done here is
really pretty fantastic, so it's good.

So we're going to do
something unprecedented.

We're going to give you
five times the normal amount.

He said, yes, I understand that.

I got it, $26,000.

He says, great.

He said, now put a zero in the
middle between the two and the six.

And they said, well,
that's not going to happen.

And so off to arbitration,
Bing Russell went.

When Bing asked for $206,000,
the reaction in baseball, I

think the Sporting News even
said this, that it was ridiculous.

And somewhere they had in
print, they said, that's a reasonable,

more rational number.

I had told Bing, uh, uh,
you're just tilting at windmills.

This $25,000, that's an
established figure for your territory.

And to take this thing to court
and arbitrate it and stuff, you're just

tilting at windmills.

There's no way.

Once again, it was laughable.

It was just a laugh
until it wasn't.

I can tell you that we will fight
for those things that I just spoke of.

Profit, property, freedom.

We will not knuckle under to bureaucratic
arrogance or official position.

I intend to fight.

Now whether we win or not depends
on how good an attorney I have.

I'd like you to know that my attorney
is a Portland attorney, Jack Faust.

I have every confidence in him.

I think he's the finest, but
we're sure going to fight.

What he did was he
put baseball on trial.

And he put the men who are
now in control of baseball on trial.

And he said, you don't get it.

I'm a baseball man.

I know the history of this game.

And I know what's in the
best interest of this game.

And it isn't you.

Mr. Jack Faust, your
closing arguments, please.

Thank you, Your Honor.

The baseball establishment
hasn't gotten along with this man.

But I'll tell you who
did get along with him.

Who got along with him famously
is the baseball fans in Portland.

There's no question about that.

The PCL league should
be ashamed of themselves.

And I think they know it.

Earlier today, the PCL
said they didn't know much

about the baseball
situation here in Portland.

And I don't think
that's genuine.

I don't think they're ignorant
at all of the Maverick story.

They know that they are buying a man here
who spent five years of his life taking a

dead baseball town and
making it into such a healthy

market that they've come
back to draft it as their own.

What we're selling is
the Maverick miracle.

What Jack and Bing were able
to do in the arbitration was to

really show the amazing
transformation that happened in Portland.

The Mavericks are not
like any other sports team.

This was an amazing thing that happened
during this magical time from 73 to 77

that I don't think will ever be
duplicated again in any sports.

The chief arbitrator
was William McAllister.

He was the Chief Justice of
the Oregon Supreme Court.

When the arbitration was over, the
panel came out and sat in front of us

and they all had
good poker faces.

And then he made his decision.

I think the PCL lawyers
came in very confident.

And I think that in their position they
had reason to be confident if you looked

at the history of
arbitrations in baseball.

Baseball operates
under its own laws.

But Bing Russell refused
to back down for a period.

The arbitration panel
hereby of $206,000.

And he deserved the outcome which was
if you're going to come take something that

I've made worth it then at
least you're going to pay for it.

And in so doing gave others the
opportunity to do what he had done.

Create a baseball team
that was independent.

Giving guys the opportunity to prove
that they could still play the game.

And perhaps still belong moving up
the ladder as opposed to down the ladder.

And in the meantime give
the people of that particular

town wherever that might
be something to cheer about.

Something to call your own.

The Mavericks.

They're a tough competition.

They're a tough competition.

And, you gotta admire the fact that he
went down to the minor league and at a

late age said I'm going to
make it back and he has.

The Mavericks boys and girls was a baseball
team that I'm proud to say I played for.

Our motivation was simple.

Revenge.

We loved whomping,
fuzzy-cheeked college

bonus babies owned by
the Dodgers or Phillies.

Will there ever be a Mav
old-timers day, you ask?

Nah.

Too many players in the
witness protection program.

Wherever you guys
are, I love you, man.

You battered
bastards of baseball.

When you run into
Mavericks now, that's probably

one of the real
highlights of their lives.

Something that gave them another chance to
actually do something that they had spent

all their life trying to do, and
they actually got to do it their way.

It was a stroke of luck
when I came up with the idea

for shredded gum in a
pouch in the Maverick bullpen.

And we cooked the first
batch of what became

Big League Chew in
Todd Field's kitchen.

He shows up with a bunch
of Redman pouches, and

we redecorate them,
and he's got some gum kit.

I mean, my parents
thought he was crazy.

I know, they
thought he was nuts.

We couldn't believe
our good luck.

The first year, they
sold $18 million worth of

bubble gum and had
kind of a cult following.

Time magazine.

Time magazine wrote it up.

It's one of the top new 10 products
in the marketplace in the country.

Pretty mind-boggling.

When I think about the Mavericks, I
don't really think much about baseball.

I think about those guys.

I think about those characters.

The fact that they enjoyed
themselves more than

I'd ever seen any grown
men enjoy themselves.

I remember thinking, I hope I
feel that way when I grow up.

And that was, you know, as profound
a guiding light as I would ever get.

The nominees for Best Picture of the Year,
which are... Todd Field in the bedroom.

My coming of age
was with the Mavericks.

Greatest thing that could
have ever happened to me.

I mean, when the
Mavericks left Portland, it was

like the circus left town
and was never coming back.

The Portland
Mavericks, to me, was...

I can't even finish
that sentence.

I can't finish that.

There's never going to be
another Portland Mavericks.

Never.

Cut.

Okay, we done here?

It was a dream-making
kind of place.

Bing was a guy
who loved baseball.

Even if you didn't like baseball at all,
he could make you fall in love with it.

It was tremendous being his son
because I had a thousand brothers.

I had three sisters, but I
had a thousand brothers.

And every one of them...

They would say to me, literally, you
have no idea what your dad meant to me.

You just don't know.

I grew up thinking I was
the luckiest guy in the world.

When Rob Nelson called me up and said that
Bing was really ill, and that we had said,

you know, if you want to see him,
you better come now, I didn't hesitate.

And I remember Rob and I jumping in a car
and driving out there from Santa Monica.

And we arrived,
and Bing was in bed.

And got up and
hugged both of us.

And he said, my bad boy,
I've been watching you.

You've done me proud.

And I remember thinking that
was better than winning an Oscar.

And I was like...

I love these boys, you know.

And I like to think that
the feeling is mutual.

This has been a fantastic team.

And so I don't want them
to play someplace else.

Portland is where we belong.

And Portland's what
made it possible.

And so I think that what I will do is go
back and play with my grandchildren.

And really go after
show business again.

I thank all of you people because you've
made the middle years or the latter years

or whatever it is in this guy's life
really exciting, really enjoyable.

It's just a show.

Bing Russell says he only
wanted to do two things in life.

Play ball and act.

With the Maverick office
closed now, Russell's

apartment walls tell
the Maverick story.

Five years in Portland, but
never a league championship.

The Maine Maverick thinks his ball club,
said to be the most successful independent

Class A team in baseball
history, was good for Portland.

Zany and loved by its fans, it was a team
that should have been owned by a man who

describes himself as
being honest and direct

with an occasional
touch of bad taste.