Baseball, Hot Dogs, Apple Pie and Divas in Tiaras?

I watch the Phillies for many reasons. I can goof around on my computer and never miss a play.  I feel a connection with the team, the announcers, the people in the crowd. I smile a lot when the Phillies are playing well. If they show a cute kid in the stands, I smile even when they’re losing! Baseball  has a wholesome, family-style orientation for me, and if that is naïve – let me keep it that way. I imagine that if I ran into one of the players at a restaurant, we could sit down and talk about the game. If I get on an elevator with someone wearing a Phillie’s cap or shirt, we can talk about how the season is going. It is just a very simple, down-home kind of thing.

Imagine my dismay when I turned on the game and there were Miss America contestants WITH CROWNS ON sitting in the stands. Nay, standing on the field to sing “Take me out to the ball game,” while wearing spiky gold crown-things on top of their heads. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. So I screamed.

There are many reasons why it is wrong to have Miss America Pageant Contestants be part of a Phillies baseball game. Women in Miss America contests are cheerleaders in disguise. Baseball does not have cheerleaders. This is a law. Women may not line up in front of the dugout and kick their skirts up (or model swim suits) for better at-bats. Picture the carnage.  Muffy’s shoe flies into the manager’s coffee while a line drive knocks Patty out cold. The team rushes onto the field, breaking each others’ legs to get to give Patty CPR. The manager heads for the locker room to put ice on his third degree burns. The umpire spits on home plate.

Hats are important to building team spirit or blocking the sun out at baseball games. These are the only reasons for wearing hats at Citizens Bank Park. Sun visors and ball caps are acceptable in other colors, but look best if they are red, white, or both. Phanatic hats make people happy. There is no purpose for crowns at baseball games. They might block the sun in spots, but the tan pattern would make people look like zebras. And crowns are dangerous. This could happen: a towering foul ball is dropping right over a crown-wearing fan. The catcher reaches for the ball, the fan jumps to get out of the way, and the crown pierces the player’s underarm. The catcher screams, the fan faints, and the ump spits on home plate.  

Finally, people who take part in beauty pageants are pretty much in la-la-land when it comes to competition. The closest they’ve come to a team effort is meeting with the seamstress and the hair dresser on the same day. Runs happen to hosiery, tags have prices on them, pitches are recorded for advertisers, and batting is done with one’s eyelashes. The person who doesn’t sweat, get dirty, or forget her other glove wins. Imagine that Janis, in a mauve sateen sheath, steps to the plate on her black leather pumps, waves to the pitcher and cries, “I want to help bring world peace to the world!” The pitcher falls off the mound laughing, the players wolf-whistle in relays, and the umpire yells, “You are OUTTA HERE” before he spits right next to Janis’s shoes on home plate.

Everything has its place, its season, its moment in the spotlight. Women in crowns and sashes should be nowhere near a baseball diamond on a game day. Lose the crowns ladies, or get back on the bus, I say.