Major League: Back To The Minors

 In 1989 Paramount Pictures released to movie theaters across the land the film "Major League" as it opened on April 7th. It was a box office smash as it coincided with the opening of the major league baseball season. The movie told a fictional tale involving the Cleveland Indians over the course of a full season. The characters, to those of us old enough to remember, are as current today as they were back in summer of '89. Mention the names Jake Taylor, Roger Dorn, "Willie Mays" Hayes, Pedro Cerrano and Ricky "Wild Thing" Vaughn and you're bound to hear quotes from the film that have become part of the lexicon of baseball fans one the last three decades. The film cost  $11 million to make and grossed just shy of $50 million at the box office. It spawned a sequel, Major League II in 1994. The latter took in some $30 million at the box office. 

But we're not gonna talk about either of these movies.  

We're gonna discuss the third cinematic masterpiece in the series. It was called Major League: Back To The Minors. Okay, cinematic masterpiece might not be the term one would use after investing 100 minutes to view it in its entirety.  It was released on April 17, 1998, once again coinciding with the start of the real major league season.  This time the Cleveland Indians weren't really even involved in the plot line.  The major league foils for BTTM would be the Minnesota Twins. Interesting choice that they chose a franchise which had actually won their second world championship just 7 seasons earlier. When the first Major League film debuted the Indians hadn't been won a championship for 41 years. That was part of the charm of the film, in that it was a franchise that hadn't even made the postseason in 35 years. But things in the Twin Cities had taken a downward slide over the past few years. After they won the 1991 World Series  the 5 previous seasons before the release of the film the Twins had finished in either 4th or 5th place and had averaged ending the season 24 games out of first place. Attendance had dropped by nearly half between '93 and '94 for four straight years. So they were easy to make fun of, I suppose. 

How do I fit into this storyline? Well, In February of 1996 I became a member of the front office of the Minnesota Twins Baseball Club. It was a fantastic gig and I enjoyed it immensely during my time there. I was notified by a co-worker that the production company would be shooting scenes for the film at the Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome for a couple of weeks. I inquired as to if I may be able to participate in some way. I received an email at the ballpark from Sonny, who was casting coordinator the extras for the Minneapolis unit. 

Now, here's where I learned about how things work in the world of television and movie production. Sonny originally told me that I was actually going to appear as an extra on the Twins' bench. I thought that to be a fairly cool thing. But prior to the start of filming at the dome I learned that the only remaining uniforms they had were going to be too small for my 6'1" frame.  And so I would need to be given something else to do. I was then offered a chance to be on the "second team". The "second team" would be the people who set-up the shots, set the proper lighting and such,  before the actual actors step in and film the scene that makes the cut. So my acting career took an abrupt turn, but I still wanted to be involved. So the B-team would be my contribution. One of the actors whom I would "stand-in" for was an actor named Thom Barry who later would have a starring role in the CBS series "Cold Case"

The shooting schedule would begin at 8am each day, an hour before my normal shift at the ballpark normally would. But since the 1997 season had ended a few weeks earlier I was under not much pressure to be in my office throughout the day.  My boss was gracious enough to let me participate on the film. Plus, my office wasn't all that far away, because even though I was on the field during shooting, a short walk up the four flights of stairs and a short right turn would have me at the door of my office. 

Now, not all of the stars of the film were part of the Minneapolis shooting crew. Corbin Bernsen (Roger Dorn), Walton Goggins ("Downtown" Anderson) and Dennis Haysbert (Pedro Cerrano) were not with us, unfortunately. I was really hoping that Mr. Haysbert would have been with us as I wanted to see Jobu in person. But there were a couple of guys who were in the group whom I knew from their prior roles. 

Eric Bruskotter, who also appeared in Major League II was in the group. Ted McGinley, who had just finished his 8th season on Married.......with Children was cast as the Twins' manager and Scott Bakula, who I had enjoyed watching on Quantum Leap, was cast as the manger of the Charleston Buzz. 

The plot of the story is this: Roger Dorn is now the owner of the Minnesota Twins. Aging minor league pitcher Gus Cantrell, who plays for the Fort Myers Miracle, is planning to retire. Then, Roger recruits Gus to be the manager of the Buzz, the Twins' AAA minor league affiliate. Gus's mission is to make a real team out of a bunch of players who include ballet dancer turned ballplayer Lance "The Dance" Pere, minor league lifer Frank "Pops" Morgan, Rube Baker, Taka Tanaka, Pedro Cerrano, pitcher Hog Ellis, home run hitter Billy "Downtown" Anderson, and pitcher Carlton "Doc" Windgate, a medical school graduate who throws the slowest fastball in the minors.

However, Gus clashes with Leonard Huff, the snobby manager of the Twins. One night in Minnesota, Gus and his fiancee Maggie Reynolds are having dinner with Roger and Huff at an upscale restaurant, where Huff challenges Gus to a game between the Buzz and the Twins. Gus accepts the challenge.

The game is scheduled to take place at the Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome in Minnesota. The Twins take a 3-0 lead in the 6th inning, but Downtown hits a home run that ties the game at 3-3 in the 8th inning. But with two outs in the bottom of the 9th inning, and with Doc one strike away from striking out home run hitter Carlos Liston, Huff has the stadium's lights turned off so the game can end with a tie rather than give the Buzz a chance to win in extra innings. However, the media reports that the Twins were still outplayed by the Buzz.

Huff now wants to bring Downtown up to the Twins, even though Gus believes that he is not yet ready. However, Anderson jumps on the opportunity, turning his back on Gus. Without Downtown, the Buzz start losing again. With the Twins, Anderson starts hitting poorly, proving Huff wrong. Gus manages to get the Buzz back on track, and Downtown is sent back down to the Buzz, where Gus teaches him how to be a more well rounded hitter. Gus leads the Buzz to a division title in their league.

Gus issues a challenge for Huff to bring the Twins to Buzz Stadium for another game. If the Twins win, Gus will give his salary for the year to Huff. If Gus and the Buzz beat the Twins, Gus can take over as the manager of the Twins. Huff accepts the challenge and takes the Twins to play against the Buzz. This time, the Twins take a 4-0 lead in the 6th inning, but the Buzz still manage to come from behind with three runs, and then win the game, 5-4, thanks to a game-winning two-run home run by Downtown. Gus decides that he wants to stay with the Buzz so he can continue to work with minor league players on their skills and hopefully turn them into stars.

One of the cool things that occurred during the filming was the scene where the lights go off in the dome. Now, I had worked as an usher's supervisor from 1989-1995. When it rained heavily we would sometimes have leaks in the roof. (Not making this up.). We moved our fair share of fans from seats where puddles would begin to form during rainstorms. But we'd never had the lights go out, at least not on purpose. The only problem with filming that scene was that it took what seemed like an eternity for the lights to get back to full strength so we could continue shooting. 

Now, at the time the movie was being shot, the Twins' Triple-A affiliate was the Salt Lake Buzz. The uniforms were the same, but the team didn't actually play in Charleston, as the plot line said. Since they were a Twins affiliate I actually owned a number of Buzz-themed items. I had the cap, a jersey and a cool nylon hoodie. One afternoon when we were done filming for the day I was walking off the field while wearing the hoodie. One of the wardrobe ladies ran over to me and told me that I'd need to return the jacket to the wardrobe rack. I politely informed her that the Buzz indeed were an actual baseball team and that I was the owner of the jacket which I was wearing. Seems, some people involved in the film did not know that the Buzz was not a fictional team.

At the end of the filming I was given a choice. I could get paid for my time in a check from the production company or I could get on-screen credit which would make me a member of SAG (the Screen Actor's Guild). I took the money. In retrospect, I wish I'd made a different decision because I'd be able to see my name in the closing credits at the end of the film.  

When the release date arrived my wife and I made our way to the local theatre which was showing it on one of their screens. Sure, it wasn't an epic by any stretch of the imagination. But it was a movie which I had actually worked on. There were a number of flaws in the production. A fairly glaring continuity issue on the scoreboard during the game played at the home field of the Buzz being on of them, which I noticed right away during our viewing. One odd thing was when showing Roger Dorn's private suite at the stadium there is a framed Twins jersey with the last name "Collins" and the number "4" on the back. This jersey only makes an impression on someone who saw an entirely different movie called "Little Big League" in which the Twins figure prominently on the plot line and was filmed in the Twin Cities. That movie was released in 1994. 

I don't even recall the amount of money which I was paid for my efforts. It could not have been all that substantial. It was badly panned by critics, and deservedly so. Rotten Tomatoes gave it a 21% rating. It cost $18 million to make and grossed a whopping $3.5 million at the box office. The nice theatre manager let me come back and pick up the poster for the film after it had ended its run. I had it framed and it still resides in my man cave as a reminder that sequels are almost never as good as the original. 

I'm just sayin'

Yes, it really IS hot in there

Now that I think about it, it probably was the gorilla suit. 

Oh, you're probably wondering what the context of that random statement is about. If you aren't, then you can stop reading now and go on back to whatever you were doing.

Those of you who know me know how much I love sports. I also love being a bit of a goofball at times. What entity could magically blend these two things in a serendipitous fashion? A mascot. That's right, a mascot. Sometimes furry, usually full of energy and devoted to the cause for the team which they represent.

I've thought about how in the world I ever even ended up in the various costumes that I've put on over the past 40 years or so. 

In 1980 the American Tourister luggage company produced a commercial which showed an airline employee placing two bags on a luggage belt behind the counter. The bags find their way back to the bag room where the luggage is separated into the proper carts to then be loaded onto the correct aircraft before departure. But in this ad the baggage employee is a gorilla. A gorilla who is not happy about something. I don't know if he was upset because a co-worker is late in returning from a break. I know not. But whatever the reason, this gorilla takes out his aggression on this one poor bag. When the bags reappear on the baggage carousel one of them is is trashed with a few items protruding from it while the American Tourister bag is virtually unscathed. 

During this time the folks at American Tourister entered into a dual advertising campaign with Polaroid. A purchase from one of the vendors in a specified value or more would get you a coupon (remember those?) that could be used to purchase something from the other vendor. I was working at the time selling cameras for JCPenney in south Tampa. Our management decided that it'd be cool to have a gorilla in-store for the promotion. The folks at Busch Gardens on the north side of town were unwilling to send a real gorilla to us for the event. So I volunteered to put on the gorilla costume and make appearances at two different stores on the same day. My first stop was my home store at Westshore Plaza in Tampa. I took photos with customers and made silly mannerisms for an hour or so. After that, I hopped in my car and drove over to St. Petersburg to a different mall. The same thing happened there, although I nearly scared the last three years of life out out of an elderly woman who turned around and saw me as I was just emerging from the dressing room. 

It was a bright and sunny summer day. Probably about 90-95 degrees. But I must admit that I had a blast. Never before had I been in such a costume. But the fact that I didn't have to speak, could make a fool of myself in total anonymity and still get paid for it appealed to me, I must say. What I didn't know is that this was just the beginning. The beginning of a part of my life which I never anticipated.

Fast forward to 1994. I was working in Minneapolis as a fan relations supervisor for the Minnesota Twins. On a Friday home game we had a giveaway with the folks at Kellogg's. I was assigned to escort the gentleman in the Tony The Tiger costume for the entire game. I took pictures for fans, handed him items and a Sharpie which would allow him to sign items. It was a bunch of fun. During the game we should stop to relax in one of the empty suites around the ballpark. The guy inside the tiger costume, who's name I wish I could remember, told me about other characters he'd been recently and how much he enjoyed doing that job.  

I will admit that I never really gave much thought about it again for quite some time. But in 1996 I landed a position in the front office with the Twins. Never did I ever dream that I would find myself working for a major league baseball team. The Twins had not had a mascot at their games since 1981, which was the last season that a character named Twinkie the Loon roamed Metropolitan Stadium. 

Oddly enough Twinkie only lasted for two seasons. I can't figure out why? Can you?

In 1998 the Seattle Mariners marketing department started a promotion called "Turn Ahead The Clock" which would see the Mariners wear futuristic uniforms. The following year MLB sold the promotion concept to Century 21 Real Estate. All but eight teams participated by sending their teams onto the field wearing special sleeveless jerseys with oversized front logos and surnames printed alongside the backside numbers as opposed to the traditional location above them. Some jerseys were relatively normal. Others were just garish. Some teams modified the advertisements on their outfield walls. For example in Minneapolis the Northwest Airlines ad was changed to Northwest Spacelines. 

To stay with the futuristic theme (games were "set" in the year 2021), the Twins decided to have their pre-game announcer, my great friend Jim Cunningham, dress as Captain James T. Kirk from Star Trek. They also located a local gentleman who owned one of the original Chewbacca costumes from the first three Star Wars films. The fourth movie in the series had been released only two months prior. As fate would have it the owner of the costume was unable to be in Minneapolis to wear the costume at the game for us. About a week prior to the game an email was sent to all front office personnel asking if any one knew of someone who would want to wear the costume. I replied immediately and we got things set up. On July 24th I took to the field wearing said Chewbacca costume. Standing next to the batting cage during pregame warmups I met Tiger Woods, who was in town for a tournament. After that I roamed around on the field, signing autographs along the foul lines and taking pictures for the crowd, what little there was of it. That game was also the same night when Seattle outfielder Butch Huskey ran face-first into the left field wall while chasing a Jacque Jones home run. The event even got my picture in The Sporting News. A publication which I read religiously while growing up. Page 3, half-page picture next to catcher Terry Steinbach and pitcher Joe Mays. Of course, no one knows it's me between them. More details about that whole thing are in a different blog entry known as "Wookie of the Year". Look for it here in the future. 

The fan reaction to having a "mascot" in the house was very positive, so plans to bring back a Twins mascot went forward for the 2000 season. When the mascot character had been chosen it became time to find someone to actually wear the costume. Tryouts were scheduled and I chose to throw my hat in the ring. Keeping mind, I already had a full-time job with the team as it was. So I was only trying out for the chance to be the 2nd-string mascot, so to speak. 

Tryouts took place one weekday afternoon around 5 pm. There were eight candidates for the gig, including myself. The team had rented a polar bear costume from a local costume shop. All eight of us would take turns in this same costume and would have five full minutes to entertain a group of about 30 kids aged 6-10 as best we could. We literally drew straws to decide the order in which we would all don the polar bear costume. The later in the order you were, the more sweat you had to deal with from those who had gone ahead of you. I drew spot number four. We each had five minutes worth of music that we would perform to. So we each entered the Twins' clubhouse to keep these kids as entertained as possible.  Let me tell you this- five minutes is much longer than you think, especially when you're wearing a sweat-laden polar bear costume in front of a crowd of kids while dancing to who knows what songs I chose. It was probably "Get Down Tonight" by K.C. & The Sunshine Band. 

I got the backup gig. I was the 2nd-string T.C. Bear. During home games I would add to my full-time gig by taking being one of the Mountain Dew Funatics. These are the guys who load the t-shirt gun in order to disperse said clothing items. 

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On the rare occasion that I was inside the second costume I would do things like hospital visits, softball tournaments, school outings and parades of various types. 

The costume isn't all that complicated. You step into the legs and get the straps settled on the top of your shoulders. Once you get that done, you get your shoes on. There are regular athletic shoes covered by the character's shoes which everyone sees. Given the fact that I'm the backup, I had to wear size 10 1/2 shoes even though I wear size 12s in real shoes. 

Being in the costume is a huge thrill. It matters not how well the team itself is performing. Kids are always so happy to see you. But being a mascot is not what my friends would believe I could do. I'm usually quite low-key and being a mascot is far from low key. But the anonymity is what I got comfortable with and that allowed me to make the character lively and likable.  

There are little tricks that one must learn when one becomes a large, smiling and dancing bear. Hydration is important. I lost about 10 pounds every time I did a performance. Outdoor gigs were higher weight loss numbers. My first parade was tough in that I didn't drink anything while on back of the convertible. The following day I was so dehydrated that I was nearly delirious. The next year I figured out a way to situate a water bottle inside the costume so that when I lowered my head I could easily reach the extra-long straw which ran into the bottle of ice water. This saved my bacon a number of times after my first failure. 

Being a mascot can also be advantageous when a minor mistake is made on the highway. On one stop in Duluth, MN my assistant was driving us to a T.C. hospital visit. He made a minor mistake and ended up going in the wrong direction on a one-way street. When the officer pulled us over my assistant apologized profusely and informed the officer that we were on our way to the local hospital with the Twins' mascot. The officer looked at me in the passenger seat of our Dodge Durango and I realized that I needed to quickly produce some proof of this fact. So I reached into the back seat and exposed the face of the smiling bear which was in the carrying bag. He understood and offered to escort us to the entrance of the hospital. So we went from receiving a citation to receiving a police escort in a matter of minutes.

In my final appearance in the costume, I actually took the role of C.T. Bear, T.C.'s brother who lived in the forest and had never seen a baseball game before. So we located a large flannel shirt (size 4x) to accommodate the costume and a bright  orange toque, which is a knit hat worn by many hunters in this part of the country during the cold weather. T.C. had hosted a celebrity home run hitting contest before every Saturday night home game.  C.T. was going to be the celebrity this time. Now, I've been playing Sunday night softball since 1989, but never had I hit a ball while looking through the mouth of a character. I enlisted my good friend Nate to come down to the batting cages after the Twins game so that I could practice just a bit before the next night's contest. I didn't hit all that well, but that's how a bear who's never seen a baseball game should hit.  

The following night was a great. I was introduced to the crowd as T.C.'s brother and performed in the home run contest as I should have.  We made our way through the crowd all evening and it was probably the coolest thing I'd done in a mascot costume. 

So, there you have it. It's a different world, to say the least. I don't know that ALL mascots have as much fun as I did, but if they don't they need to look for another gig. 

Gorilla costume. Gorilla costume indeed. 

And yes, it IS hot in there.

I'm just sayin'