HOMESTAND

Fellowship forged in the bleachers survives corporate cost cutting.

Five years ago, Major League Baseball dropped 40 of its 160 minor league teams, closing shop in communities across the country. To Bardenwerper, the author of the superb Iraq War book The Prisoner in His Palace, this seemed “emblematic of so much of what was wrong with today’s America.” Curious about how ex–minor league towns and cities were coping, he headed to western New York, home of the Batavia Muckdogs, a Miami Marlins affiliate until MLB’s ruthless cutbacks. Under new local owners, the Muckdogs live on, though the pros have been replaced by college players who pay for their roster spots. Bardenwerper buys a $99 Muckdogs season ticket, befriends fans and ponders big questions “through the lens of baseball.” In his telling, the contraction of the minor leagues is “a story about America, and where we go from here.” Indeed, to learn that a private equity–backed minor league team owner helped MLB “orchestrate” the elimination of teams and subsequently bought more than 20 of the surviving teams is to be reminded that the forces of American corporate consolidation know neither shame nor mercy. While warning that the minors may yet sustain further indignities, Bardenwerper, chatting with fans and ballpark workers, demonstrates how baseball can be a lifeline in a community battered by deindustrialization. But like many before him, Bardenwerper can get schmaltzy about the sport. Playing catch is like “a sacrament.” There’s communal “magic” in the cheap seats. Thinking about a local who compares Batavia to heaven, Bardenwerper depicts his own “imagined afterlife” as a Field of Dreams–esque ballgame. “Was I guilty of presenting a misleading Disney-like fantasy of the Batavia I wanted to discover” instead of the real thing? At times, yes.

An earnest search for meaning in a community that lost a pro baseball team.