Mr. Autry, Be an Angel to the Fans

Dear Mr. Autry:

See, I had this column all figured out for the opening of the baseball season.

I have a grandson, name of Trevor Simpson, 10 years old, who lives in Boulder, Colo. You might say he lives and dies with the California Angels. He has a whole book full of nothing but Angel baseball cards, and the biggest day of his life was when he had his picture taken with Don Sutton before an Angel game a couple of years ago.

Now he’d probably admit that Sutton wasn’t his first choice.

His first choice, ever since he appeared as a fuzzy-cheeked rookie four years ago, has been Wally Joyner. Trevor would probably give up his skis and his soccer ball and quite possibly his mother or father for the chance to meet Wally Joyner. At least, I don’t think they would want to test it.

Last Christmas, Trevor gave me a poem he had written, neatly inscribed over a drawing of the Big A. The poem read:

Wally Joyner plays first base.

He also is a hitting ace.

The California Angels are his team.

Meeting him is my dream.

Now that may not scan very well as poetry, but--believe me--no verse has ever been written with more passion.

Well, Trevor and his brother, Trent, and their mother are coming to Orange County to visit in a couple of weeks. Under ordinary circumstances, they would have been here for the opening of the baseball season. We even had tickets for one of the freeway series games. But--as I suspect you may have heard--circumstances aren’t ordinary this year.

If they had been, I had a plan. I was going to call the people in your publicity office and ask them if there was any way that Trevor might just shake hands with Wally Joyner. See, that would have made me a permanent Big Man with my grandson if it had worked, and it would have kept his feet off the ground the rest of the summer.

Instead--as I write this on March 12--we still have this lockout.

I called Trevor last night in Colorado and talked to him about the lockout. I explained to him that it was going to be tough having a shot at Wally Joyner if there was no baseball going on at Anaheim Stadium, and he understood that, but he was feeling pretty low.

Then he said, “Why don’t you write a letter to Mr. Autry and tell him about all of this and ask him if he would please do something about the lockout so we can get on with the baseball season?” Trevor said that even if the Angels aren’t playing when he gets here, he’ll come back in the summer and maybe he could meet Wally then.

So that’s why I’m sending you this letter.

I don’t know how you feel about this lockout business. As far as I know, no one has asked you, and I haven’t read anything about you sitting in on any of these meetings or getting involved with the people doing the negotiating.

But I have a special feeling that you--more than any of the other baseball owners--are first of all a baseball fan, and second of all an owner. And the baseball fans, you know, have never been represented in any of this bickering that has been going on for so long and is holding up our baseball season.

So here’s what I’m suggesting to you, with the full concurrence of my grandson, Trevor. If the lockout is still going on when you receive this letter, why don’t you take off the owner’s hat and put on the fan’s hat? And why don’t you ride into one of those meetings and say, “Whoa up, now. This has gone on long enough. There’s a kid from Colorado who is going to be visiting Anaheim in a couple of weeks and wants to see a baseball game, and so do I. So let’s knock off all this nonsense and put away all these egos and get this season on the road.”

You could probably do that, you know. I have a feeling that more than anything in the world, you would like to have a World Series in Anaheim. Well, you’ve got a shot at it this year. A real shot. But not if you don’t play. If the season doesn’t start, it can’t end in a World Series in Anaheim.

So enough. Put on the spurs, Mr. Autry, and get involved. Think about sitting up there in your box and watching Mark Langston blowing ‘em past the Oakland A’s. Think of 30,000 joyful people sitting around you on a summer night in Anaheim Stadium. Think of my grandson. Hell, think of me.

And after you dig the spurs into those dudes sitting around that negotiating table in New York, maybe you could put in a word for my grandson. It wouldn’t take much to send him into orbit. Just Wally Joyner walking over to the rail during batting practice and shaking his hand and maybe signing his program.

When the time comes, I’ll get him there as early as necessary. He’d probably spend the day in the parking lot if that would help.

But before we can do any of that--and before you can have that World Series in Anaheim--we have to get the season started.

So won’t you please mount up, Mr. Autry? It’s probably too late, now, for Trevor’s upcoming visit. But he’ll be back this summer. And maybe you could put a bug in Wally Joyner’s ear for then.

Trevor and I would surely appreciate that.

Sincerely,

Joe Bell