Posted in: Top Stories 
Aug 3, 2007

    It was the top of the fifth inning in Monday night’s Falmouth Commodores game at Guv Fuller Field. All eyes were on first baseman Ryan White of the Cotuit Kettleers, the inning’s leadoff hitter. 

    He stepped into the batter’s box and calmly awaited the pitch from Commodores All-Star pitcher Aaron Crow. 

    Along the first base side, adults and children of all ages grabbed the fence, peering through the holes to catch a glimpse of the action. Many of the younger ones, as if in the actual game, patted their trusty sidekick for the night, a broken-in baseball mitt. Their goal could not have been more clear. 

    As Crow delivered the pitch, White took a swing, and then it happened, every child’s dream at a Commodores game—the foul ball. 

    It went over the backstop, press box, and, last of all, the concession stand with the red marquee that reads, “Fried Dough,” before landing in the grass near the batting cage. 

    At least a dozen children swarmed the area in a mad dash to get the most prized possession of the night. There was a little jostling, but nothing violent. Out popped a victorious Rob Johnston, 13, of Winchester, a smile on his face and a ball in his hand. 

    Holding it firmly, he started running past the Commodores dugout until he reached his mother, Marcelle Johnston, who was sitting on a blanket with friends, Donna Pag of South Carolina and Jason Salves, 13, of Woburn. 

    The first thing he showed them was, of course, the baseball he nearly had to fight to get. For Rob, who comes for a week here every summer and stays at his parents’ timeshare, it was a matter of luck.

    “I was buying sunflower seeds,” he said. 

    “It was simply a matter of being in the right place at the right time,” Ms. Johnston added. 

    While Ms. Johnston may be right, children who attend the Commodores game take foul balls seriously. Going home with this type of souvenir from the game may be one of the most thrilling moments for the younger ones. And luck, they argued, has little to do with it. 

    That is why each child has devised their own strategy for success. Adam Mszanski, 12, of Martha’s Vineyard had three helpful hints for his peers. “The secret to getting a foul ball is to catch it, wrestle another kid over it, or make friends with the coach and have him give you the foul ball,” he said. 

    The easiest of the three, he said, is working the coach angle. The key to this approach, he said, is being polite. “You say ‘please’ when the other kids are saying, ‘Give me the ball,’ ” he said. 

    In the same inning another foul ball followed a similar trajectory as the first, this time landing to the left of the concession stand. Coleman Fine, 9, nearly risked life and limb while in pursuit, sliding onto one knee as his friend Nolan Mclaughlin, 8, of Charlestown followed a few steps behind. 

    The pair came up empty as Michael Figueroa, 15, of Weston, Connecticut, calmly bent over and picked up the ball. He looked at it for a second and then placed it in Coleman’s hand. When asked why, he said, “Because he is a kid and he’s young. I thought he should have it.” 

    Nearby, Michael Fortin, 12, of Walpole discussed his foul ball tactics. “You just run and move through people,” he said. 

    He added that aggressive play is not his only secret. The other is location. Having been to many Commodores games before, he said, many foul balls tend to drop in the parking lot behind the souvenir stand. “There is a hole in the fence I go through. I have gotten five balls,” he said. “It is fun getting them.” 
As to what he does with the souvenirs, he said, “I play with them.” 

    According to second grader Michael McLaughlin, 7, of Norwalk, Connecticut, he is the foul ball king. “I have a lot. Every game I get a foul ball,” he bragged.

    “I’ve been to a lot of games including the Boston Red Sox and the [New York] Mets.” 
His grandmother, Judith C. McLaughlin of Teaticket Highway, argued otherwise. “He doesn’t catch foul balls that often,” she said. She suggested that perhaps this was merely the two having a different definition of the phrase “a lot.”

    “I guess it is relative what you consider a lot,” she laughed. 

    Of the foul balls he does have, Michael said, they are autographed and sit on a shelf in his room. 

    No matter how hard one tries, and regardless of the best strategy, sometimes the dynamics of this game are dependent on getting a lucky bounce. 

    One need look no further than Harold S. Melkonian of Quaker Road, North Falmouth, for proof. He had a foul ball bounce into his hands, and there was no effort on his part. He was sitting in a lawnchair watching the game on the first base side when he reached his hand up and came away with a prize. “I actually just wait for the ball to come to me,” he said. “I play hard to get.” 

    Yet, he had a healthy respect for the children who are foul ball seekers. “You have to hand it to them,” he said. “They have a lot of heart. They are true baseball fans.” 
While he joked he was not going to give it to anyone, he said, he will actually share it with his children, Ian, 7, a second grader at the North Falmouth School, and Kenna, 11, a seventh grader at the Lawrence School. “This will go in the family collection,” he said, but not before his children seek out the autograph of the player who hit it, third baseman Conor Gillaspie. 

    In the eighth inning, as some fans left early, there were still a number of children who held fast to their foul ball dreams. 

    Owen Tarleton, 7, of Woodstock, Vermont, was one of them. His left leg bent forward and glove on his knee, he was in his “foul ball stance,” his father, Jason Tarleton, said. 

    Owen’s younger sister, Emma, 3, twirled in circles alongside him, occasionally bumping into him as he concentrated on the game. “She’s waiting for the music to come on so she can dance,” Mr. Tarleton said. 

His son, however, remained focused. “He’s been working his little tail off and he has not gotten a foul ball yet,” he said. 

As those words rolled off his tongue, catcher Kevin Dubler hit a foul ball over the concession stand and off Owen went. Walking back with a dejected look on his face, he could only muster a “shucks.” 

If and when he ever catches a foul ball, Owen said, “I would be pretty excited.” He would not savor it for himself. It is something, he said, he would want to share. “I would give it to my sister,” he said because, “I love her.”