MILFORD — Fleischmanns’ Mountain Athletic Club (M.A.C.) melds sport and history. Along with the Bovina Dairymen and Hamden Nine (Delhi Polecats), the M.A.C. keeps strong the regional tradition of 19th century baseball. In addition to rules, uniforms, and equipment authentic to a bygone era, the M.A.C. featured an icon of the more recent past on Saturday, June 19th, the legendary Red Sox pitcher Bill “Spaceman” Lee.
Lee travelled from his Vermont home to join the M.A.C. for a mid-afternoon game against the San Francisco Pelicans at Dewey Field, located within the Beaver Valley Camp in Milford. The journey to Dewey Field, tucked away in a wooded area adjacent to rustic cabins, provided a time portal.
Most fans know the big lefty from his pitching days with the Boston Red Sox (1969-1978). In the mid-1970s, Lee won 17 games 3 seasons in a row. Encore campaigns with the Montreal Expos (1979-1982) rounded out his 14-season major league career. Over that span, he won 119 MLB games against 90 losses.
From the age of 6 to the present, Lee has never left baseball. He moved through sandlot, Little League, public school, collegiate, and minor league ball before reaching the majors. Since then, he has played in a multitude of professional, semi-pro and amateur games from Venezuela to Canada.
An ebullient and iconoclastic personality burnished Lee’s fame. Combining philosophy, physics, and baseball, his memorable quotes include, “A few million years from now the sun will burn out … The earth will turn into a giant snowball and be hurled through space. When that happens, it won't matter if I get this guy out.” Earning the nickname "Spaceman," he morphed into the popular culture through forays into politics, philanthropy, entrepreneurship, books, and electronic media.
With baseball roots still strong, Lee took the mound for the M.A.C. It is remarkable that he did so. At 79 years old, he has survived 3 heart attacks, collapsed on the ballfield, wears an elaborate cardiac device, and underwent stent surgery. But the doctors told Lee playing ball was ok, so he does so with grit and enthusiasm. He loves the game as well as camaraderie with teammates, opponents, and fans.
Approximately 60 fans, situated on wooden stands, folding lawn chairs, and their feet, watched a well-played and competitive ballgame. Part of Lee’s inner circle, including stepson and documentarian friend, attended.
Lee had a no-hitter going—for 2 innings. Lee doesn’t throw with much velocity, never did. But he remains crafty, possesses excellent control, and angles pitches. Lee relied on 3 pitches—slow, changeup, and his arcing eephus. To keep his pitching hand and long fingers ball-ready, he grips them around a hard rock-like object that Lee claims is the residue of dinosaur poop.
Lee left the mound after completing 4 innings with the M.A.C and Pelicans tied 2-2. Rain then delayed the game for nearly an hour.
Before resuming play, Collin “Stumpy” Miller, M.A. C. organizer and player-manager, reviewed the differences between the 1886 baseball rules that governed the first 4 innings and the 1895 protocols employed during the remainder of the game. Amongst the changes were moving the pitching distance back 5 feet. Common to both styles, players, aside from the better padded catcher, wore hand coverings that resemble garden gloves.
Thanks to a rule embellishment, Lee, assisted by a pinch runner and surrogate outfielder, remained in the game following his pitching stint to take at bats. He went 3 for 4, delivering a solid line drive to right field and subsequently twice bunted safely.
After 9 innings, more hitting and a few errors resulted in a 14-11 Pelican victory over the M.A.C. Through cheers and handshakes, both teams showed appreciation for their rivals and for the game—as did the fans.
