History

As the 2007 season came to a close, El Guapo was on top of the wiffle world, charging hard towards his first LowBall Player of the Year. He dominated the field from both sides; destroying batters with a pocketful of punishing pitches while bashing virtually every ball within the vicinity of the zone into the long grass. It should have been his year and his league. Unfortunately in LowBall, success can be fleeting and reality unforgiving. This is the El Guapo story.

The start of Guap's slide can be traced to a contract dispute with the Commish. In the early fall of 2007, Guap sent a formal contract extension request to the offices of LowBall. Bolstered by an incredible year, he demanded that his salary for 2008 be increased from the league minimum (and maximum) of no bottles of beer to a 40 ounce of High Life. The Commissioner swiftly issued a public statement reinforcing the league's long standing rule of not paying players a dime. Guap continued to press the office and eventually the dispute spilled onto the field as the league's star sat out the Wifftober Finale in protest.

It appeared that the snows of winter had cooled the dispute and all would be forgotten on opening day at HST. However, the day arrived without the larger than life El Guapo in the starting line-up. Rumors swirled that he had chosen to take up softball or worse yet tennis. The truth was even more painful for a league swirling in controversesy. Guap had elected to have a scheduled offseason surgery during the opening week. He was quoted as saying,"They're paying now, I am taking it easy recovering on 'company time'."

Despite looking dire for fledgling league, the Commish and Guap reached a resolution in early May. Guap would make a commission on all El Guapo bobbly head figures sold during games played on Monday. Some estimates have put the worth of this contract between $2 and $3, slightly lower than the 40 ounce he had sought.

With his much desired contract in hand, Guap appearred to be concentrating on a return to the top, even scheduling an opening day game at his homefield. Once again misfortune struck the star as tenants of The Friendly Confines filed a lengthy and scathing legal complaint against El Guapo. He was forced to break from his training regiment to make repeated appearrances against the wooly prosecution. Ultimately an amicable resolution was reached but not before the cancellation of the Confines opening day and many weeks of missed training.

Perhaps it was stress of a lengthy trial or complications with the recovery, whatever the case El Guapo struggled to regain form. There were flashes of his previous dominance here and there but largely it was a muddled mess of mecrocrity. With the benefit of hindsight, it is easy to see his slow mental dismantling. At the time, no one saw it coming.
It was at GapBridge on a stormy Sunday morning, that Guap's sweater of sanity finally was pulled one too many times. Ironically, it was his contractual nemesis that dealt the roundhouse brainbuster. With a single pitch, The Commish sent Guap away with another K to add to his bulging collection. An ACL makes an audible pop when it ruptures. There was no such sound when Guap's fragile mental state snapped. With the ferocity of a hungover beast, he brutally attacked the sacred strike zone of the hallowed grounds of GapBridge. At the conclusion, a stunned crowd watched as the deflated hero struggled back to the bench muttering, "I have issues."

El Guapo disappeared off the LowBall map after the tragic incident. Rumors have run rampant that he moved to Port Henry to live the "island life." The above photo surfaced on the internet suggesting that there may be truth to the nasty tale. Though some have questioned his ability to grow such a mean mullet and not have a mean mustache to match.

As the debate of Guap's future in LowBall and his eligibility for the hall rages on, a small coalition of supporters has started to demand his reinstatement. Led by Lonichiro, they have instigated a campaign called "oBamBama for President". Despite the incoherence in the coalition's message, the Commish has issued a statement saying that Guap will always have a home in LowBall amongst the other flawed purveyors of the plastic.

This is not a story of sorrow, but instead a story of hope. Hope that one of the league's brightest stars and most vibrant personalities will return to the top. I am sure the fans and players will welcome him back with open arms.

With yard saling in full swing, I believe it is best for a quick overview of the wiffle bat timeline. I have only included the official bats produced by Wiffle. There are a bunch of authorized wiffle bats, you can check out the full bat history at www.wiffleballusa.com. That is where the bulk of my information came from.

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1954 - Wooden Wiffle King - the original bat made for one year. Rare bat, recently sold for $41 on ebay.

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1955-1972 - Wooden Wiffle Bat - the common wooden bat, it came with a single strip of black tape around the handle in the spirit of stick ball. Fairly common on ebay selling between $8-$35.

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1959-1974 - Original Plastic Bat - simply has the words "Official Wiffle Bat" in block letters on the barrel and no grip on the handle.

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1975 - Black Plastic Bat - produced for one year only due to the oil crisis.

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1976-1982 - Generation 2 Yellow Plastic Bat - same as the original except the rough (little dots) grip was added. Mint bat sold for $72 on ebay, still in the packaging.

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1983-1991 - Generation 3 Yellow Plastic Bat - same as gen 2 except the words "Made in the USA" were added just below the logo. LowBall acquired one bat from the Beck archives and one from Lincoln yard sale for a grand total of $0.

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1992 - Present - Generation 4 Yellow Plastic Bat - the current version with the bubble lettered logo as opposed to block letters.

Wiffle ball goes big time—well, not so big

by Lee Green
The Wiffle Effect

If the phrase "organized adult Wiffle ball" has a slightly ludicrous ring to it, that's because we invariably associate the white plastic sphere with childhood, backyard fields, and quirky ground rules. A one-hopper off the tool shed was a double, a shot over the boxwood hedge was a home run, and a foul ball into the fenced province of the neighbors' dog meant the game was over.

That version of the sport still exists, fostering, as one enthusiast's Web site puts it, "the ruining of America's backyards." But in the mid-1990s isolated groups of adult players—usually in their twenties or thirties—discovered on the Internet that plenty of others out there shared their passion. Adult tournaments have been around for years, particularly in the Northeast, where the Wiffle tradition runs long and deep, but competitive adult Wiffle ball has now grown into a thriving subculture of self-described "touring pros," structured competitions, cash prizes, and slick playing fields. Forget the boxwood hedges; these guys swing for low, Fenway-green outfield fences eighty to 110 feet from home plate. And forget those plastic Wiffle bats, too. "That little yellow bat just doesn't cut it today, especially against the pitchers you're facing," says Mike Palinczar, the organizer of two annual tournaments in Trenton, New Jersey, and one of the game's premier pitchers. "If you're up there with a yellow bat, you might as well give up." Today's players wield sturdier plastic or aluminum bats (including one manufactured by Palinczar) with names like Ledge Sledge, King Stick, and Wiffle Pro. A carbon-graphite model, the Moonshot, sells for $120.

The sport reached a milestone in January of 2001, when six players from various parts of the country, frustrated by bitter rivalries and a lack of organization, convened in Baltimore to see if they could invest the game with some semblance of order and uniformity. Two days later they emerged as the United States Perforated Plastic Baseball Association, a governing body that publishes rules, sanctions a series of tournaments on both coasts during baseball season, and conducts post-season playoffs that culminate in a fall national championship. The organization's name may suggest a lack of seriousness, but the players, most of whom played baseball in high school or college, intend nothing of the sort. Billy Owens, of Costa Mesa, California, a thirty-four-year-old electronics distribution manager, is one of the association's founders and the editor of an online Wiffle-ball newsletter called Fast Plastic. Owens bristles at the notion that he is consumed by a child's game. "For ex-baseball players," he told me, "this is the closest thing they can get to playing college-level baseball or even semi-pro."

www.theatlantic.com

For those that are after the LowBall Coat of Arms, the full size image is attached in .jpg format. I have also attached the full size ticket image for your enjoyment.