Dan's Papers - August 22, 2008 - Artists 4, Writers 2

Last Saturday afternoon, in East Hampton, about 300 people came out to watch the 60th Annual Artists & Writers Softball Game. This is the longest-running sporting event in the Hamptons, and by all accounts, this one, a close game with a spectacular ninth-inning ending, was one of the very best of them.

The event took place on the sandlot softball field behind the East Hampton Waldbaum's, with a first pitch thrown out at 3 p.m. The final out usually comes sometime around 6 p.m. This game, however, filled with great defensive plays, moved along very quickly. The dramatic conclusion came at about 10 after five.

It was a sunny day. Landscape architect Joe Sopiak was the starting pitcher for the Artists, and he played the whole game through. He had been the most valuable player of last year's game, which the Artists won, and this year, he seemed to have it in his head that he would repeat his win, but this time, by pitching the ball with greater velocity than he had before.

As this is a slow pitch contest, everyone was taken aback by the speed show he embarked upon. He pitched two full innings without having any trouble putting down the Writers, but his behavior worried me. As the umpire of the game, standing behind him and calling balls and strikes, I wanted him to stop this. I told him so.

"Whoever heard of such a thing?" he replied.

I persisted. Finally I ran off the field between the third and fourth inning and spoke to Leif Hope about it. Hope is the organizer of the game, and he agreed with me. I told Sopiak he either had to slow down or I'd disallow his pitches. Sopiak slowed, but he didn't like it.

In these circumstances, the Writers knicked him for two runs in the top of the fourth. But through five innings, that was it. It was a pitcher's battle, to be sure, with New York Daily News owner Mort Zuckerman working a shutout for the Writers through the five innings.

An interesting addition to the game was our Congressman, Tim Bishop, who started at third base for the Artists. He dropped an easy ground ball in the first inning, but then redeemed himself in the second with a diving catch. Congressmen aren't supposed to be diving into the dust like this. Bishop did. He played a great game.

In the fourth inning, actor Alec Baldwin came in to umpire calling balls and strikes behind the pitcher's mound, giving me a much-needed break. Both the top and bottom of the inning were filled with action, and although nobody scored, they kept Baldwin busy the whole time. He was a good sport and turned that inning into great entertainment. When I returned for the fifth inning, I decided that though I lack any acting talent, I could at least shout out the balls and strikes louder and with more conviction, which I did for the rest of the game.

The Writers had a big rally in the top of the fifth. With two outs and two runners on, home run hitter Bill Collage hit a huge drive to deep centerfield. It was going over the wall, but Artist John Longmire robbed him of a home run by leaping above the wall to bring it down.

In the bottom of the fifth inning, Zuckerman was replaced on the mound by Benito Vila. And the Artists welcomed him by knocking him around. With two on, actor Chevy Chase hit a hard bouncer to Lee Minetree at shortstop, but Minetree could not decide to which base he wanted to throw the ball. So everybody was safe and the bases were loaded. Before the dust cleared, the Artists had scored three times. And this lead, three to two, carried them through until the bottom of the eighth, when they added one more.

It was a hot day. And by the time we got into the eighth inning, I was occasionally losing track of the balls and strikes, the number of outs and what planet I was on.

With the count two and one, at one point, Sopiak pitched a ball high and outside to Vila. I opened my mouth. What came out was "strike two."

Well, balls and strikes are not a big deal, and when an umpire makes a call you're supposed to stick to it. "Two and two," I said softly.

"What was that?" Vila asked with his bat on his shoulder.

"He said 'strike,'" Sopiak shouted to him.

"That's ridiculous," Vlla said.

"Okay," I said. "Three and one."

Sopiak, who had the ball and was getting ready for the next pitch, looked at me in astonishment. Then he said, "It really was a ball."

"I know," I said, suppressing a giggle.

Boxing sportscaster Bert Sugar, assisted by Juliette Papa, called the game over a PA system from a table behind the backstop, but sometimes I wondered if he was looking at the same game I was.

In one particular inning, the Artists got two men on base with nobody out, and the next batter up hit a fly ball to right, which was caught.

"Bases loaded, nobody out," Sugar said.

"One out," I said, raising one finger in the air.

"This is going to be tough on the Writers," Sugar said. "Their backs are to the wall. Bases loaded. Nobody out."

"Two on, one out," I shouted.

"I don't see how Zuckerman is going to get out of this inning without letting at least one run in," Sugar said.

"One out," I shouted again.

"Bases loaded," said Sugar.

The end of the game could not have been more dramatic. The Artists were just three outs away from victory when the Writers came up for the top of the ninth inning. Sopiak, still pitching beautifully, got the first two out. But then he could not get the third. Pretty soon, the bases were loaded, and who strode to the plate but Bill Weise, another home run hitter who, several years ago, had been Player of the Game.

The count went to three and two. And with that, Sopiak let loose one of his off-speed pitches, which Weise swung at with full force. It went straight up, 15 feet into the air. The catcher for the Artists, Tom Clohessy, went to catch it for the final out. Weise did not seem to know where the ball had gone. He just stood there a moment, as Clohessy came up alongside him on the first-base side, in fair territory, under the ball, at which point Weise turned to run toward first, which got him running right into Clohessy. The ball popped out of Clohessy's mitt.

I knew instantly how I had to call it. I didn't want to. It would be a terrible end to this game. "Out," I called, running toward home plate. A base runner cannot interfere in a baseline with a fielder going for the ball. "Three outs, game over."

The entire bench of Writers erupted and ran onto the field screaming at me. The Artists did the same. And there they all were, standing around, yelling at me at the same time, the Artists saying "game over," the Writers shouting "foul ball."

"He hit him, it's over," I said.

"He never got out of the batter's box," sportswriter Mike Lupica shouted. "He can just stand there."

But he hadn't just stood there.

"I have to call what happened," I said. "I was looking right at it."

Clohessy, the catcher, who should have been glad that though he dropped the ball the game was over, took a very surprising position. He's a big man, about 6'4", and he has a big booming voice.

"We cannot win the game this way," he shouted at me. "Do it over. We want to win the game fair and square."

Hope was now on the scene. And he agreed with the assessment. "The rule book is the rule book. He was out. But I agree. It can't end this way."

"Okay," I said. "It doesn't count. For the sake of the game, a foul ball."

Everybody seemed amazed at this turn of events. And so the talking stopped.

And so we went back to where we were before this play.

I don't think we have ever before done this. It was quite amazing. And now it was Sopiak, who has been playing softball in one league or another all his life. And at the plate was Richard Wiese, wildlife adventurer, and the same former President of the Explorers Club, who is a big slugger.

The count was still three and two. Sopiak pitched the next ball high, which would have been ball four driving in a run, but Wiese went for it. And it was a long drive deep out to right field. The right fielder, Stu Steppin, drifted back and back and, right up against the wall, caught it for the third and final out.

Artists 4, Writers 2.

As the game was over, the crowd drifted away, having watched one of the best-played and most exciting games in years. A half-hour later, in the outdoor courtyard at the Lodge Restaurant on Race Lane, the Artists and Writers, still in uniform, sweaty and covered with dust, drank ice cold beers and discussed the game. Soon, Hope arrived. He announced that the Player of the Game Award would again go to Joe Sopiak. And he announced that over $90,000 was raised for three charities: the Phoenix House, East Hampton Child Care and East End Hospice. This was a record amount.

"Next year, $100,000," he said. "And I believe that will happen."

The game was dedicated to the memory of actor Roy Scheider, who for more than a decade had been the pitcher for the Artists. It was also dedicated to the 11 servicemen from our East End community who lost their lives in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan during the last five years. Many family members of those who had made this sacrifice were at this game and stood on the mound silently to be introduced to the crowd by Congressman Bishop. A moment of silence for the fallen was then held. And then Morgan Sturges was introduced by Master of Ceremonies Juliette Papa of 1010 WINS, and she sang the "Star-Spangled Banner" as we stood there, holding our hats over our hearts.

A good deal of media was at the game, including Newsday, Plum TV, LTV and, of course, Hampton Style and Dan's Papers.

Sponsors of this event were HBO, Mort Zuckerman, Hollander Design, Grumbacher Paints, Carlisle Collection, Shana Alexander Foundation, 1010 WINS, Snapple, Walter Bernard Design, Madison Copy, Spanierman Gallery, Fred and Lora Drasner, Ronnette Riley Architects, Lafayette 148 and the Long Island Rail Road.