The Wave
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Snap Studios. I'm Natalie Moore. I fell in love with soap operas when I was just five years old, and I still watch them. They're television's longest scripted series and have zero reruns. Now let me tell you, soap operas aren't just some silly art form. They are significant. In this season of Making, Stories Without End from WBEZ Chicago, join me as I share how the genre began, their social impact, and why these stories endure.

Listen wherever you get your podcasts. Okay, so it's time the world knew the truth. And I know I'm going to get the angry letters, the furious reprisals. Please send any and all complaints to the Snap Judgment Complaint Department, Joe Rogan, at joerogan.com. But I got to tell my truth because back in the day, I moved from Michigan to the San Francisco Bay.

In lovely Oakland, California. Good people, good times. I instantly feel this sense of kinship. This sense of home. Some of the same foods. And someone needs to explore the relationship between Michigan pasties and Bay Area empanadas. Got the same pride of place. And I even hear similar slang in the bank. Catch folk walking down the street saying, that car is hella fast.

That girl dances hella whack. My mom's is hella crazy. I just smile with pride, catching echoes of my former home and my new home. Imagine then, my surprise, my chagrin to learn that these Bay Area people have the gall and the audacity to say they invented the term. The Bay Area hip-hop, the skateboarders, the hyphy movement all lay claim, which is odd because...

I know who started this worldwide trend. We did! And by we, I mean the good folk of East Kentwood High School right outside of Grand Rapids, Michigan. Hey, it's gonna be hella cold up north, Chad. Kim, how a good party you missed! In fact, I want to go out on a limb and say the specific person who started this phenomenon is a guy who sat behind me in Mr. Vandermolen's geology class.

A fellow by the name of Sean Webb. That's right. No longer can I just sit silent while this giant of modern American English vernacular goes unheralded. I'm hella mad! And today on Snap, that's not all we're setting the record straight on. Snap uncovers the real story of a generation's long mystery. Snap Judgment proudly presents The Way. My name is Tim Washington. It's a hella good show!

When you're listening to Snap Judgment now, every high school superstar knows that the roar of the crowd has to fade eventually. But Snap producer Bo Walsh brings us a tale about one guy who left behind something that will live on forever. Our story begins right here in Oakland, California.

In just a few hours, the A's are going to play their final game at the Oakland Coliseum. Thousands of fans expected to attend, showing their support for the team, a team they've loved for years, in fact, decades for some. This past fall, close to 47,000 people sold out the Coliseum to bid farewell to one of baseball's most storied franchises before the A's abandoned the city of Oakland.

In their 56 seasons, the Oakland A's went from triumph to tragedy. A once dynasty which included four World Series titles, followed by years of fielding baseball's lowest payroll. The Oakland A's were more than just a baseball team. They were a symbol of Oakland, a source of pride that unified a city.

And while the rundown Coliseum may have earned a reputation for its small crowds, sewage overflows, and even possum infestations, it was home to a loyal fan base. One of those fans was a man named Crazy George.

who saw all of the ups and downs and would create one of the team's most iconic and lasting legacies. He was asked by the A's to be at their last game to see them off and share in this final memory. This is the best part of the game for me. I just have fun making people smile. All right. Thank you. Hey, I was there. How you doing?

As a young kid, George was not crazy.

His voice was not always graveled by his strange line of work, and his name wasn't even George. All through high school, I was called Mike because my middle name is George Michael, and my dad was named George. So I went by Mike. So all my friends through high school, through junior college, called me Mike. And it's quite a difference between Crazy George and Mike. I mean, they're the world of difference. Mike was quiet. At high school, I don't think I ever talked to a girl.

I never went to a dance. I probably didn't know a girl's name in high school, except if it was one of my best friend's sisters. I mean, I didn't have a date until I was 21 years old. I had like four, three or four intimate friends in high school, and I still keep in touch with two of them.

And they really are amazed that I transformed myself like this. Almost everybody didn't expect it. And then they go, now you're crazy, George. George, can I get a photo with you? Why, sure. Oh, freaking honor, man. You're a legend. Thank you so much. All right. It was in college as a student at San Jose State that one day something was unlocked, something deep inside that George never knew he had.

Don Baldwin, my best friend back then, one day he said, let's go to a football game. And he said, sure, I'd love to go. And we went, and he brought a drum and a bugle. What do I do with a bugle? A bugle takes talent to play. I couldn't play the bugle, so he hands me the drum. Well, anybody can play a drum. And I start hitting it. Yeah!

And I was having fun. And I was getting a few people cheering with me. And by the first half, I had like 40 people cheering in that section. By the third quarter, I had the whole section cheering. And they're all laughing and enjoying it. And we stood out.

George kept showing up to the Spartan football games. And soon with that drum in his hand, he wasn't so shy anymore. When I'd hit the drum, like three times in a row, I would look up in the stands and 5,000 people would be looking at me. That's what the drum did. I got their attention. I adopted the idea that I liked being noticed.

I've always wanted to be an extrovert, I guess. And that gave me the perfect excuse. So I started using my personality, carrying the drum. I get up close and personal in the stands with the fans, and that's why they cheer for me. I'm with them. I found out the impact I made on the fans. I can change the face of a game.

George became a fixture at San Jose State games and a bit of a local celebrity, but cheerleading wasn't going to pay his bills. I needed a job. A job comes along at Bookster High School. So now I was a regular, full-blown teacher. And I tell you, that was not my forte, but I was teaching.

I don't know if they knew I was cut out to be a teacher or not, but I wasn't getting a lot of joy out of it. At school, he could never seem to find that same control over the classroom that Crazy George had over the crowd. The image of who I am, and then I have to be a strict teacher, and I was a terrible disciplinarian. It was always like right below, out of control. That's the way I felt.

It was chaos in the class. The kids just went nuts. And I'd lose control almost. I had nightmares about teaching sometimes. I was just not born for that. And I was born for cheerleading.

George was moonlighting on the weekends as a local cheerleader.

when he started getting calls from bigger teams. And that's when there was an indication I might be able to make some money at cheerleading. And I go, well, I'm going to have to gamble. I'll try it. I just went in and I said, you know, I'm quitting teaching. I'm going to resign my post. And I started cheering. And then I became professional.

Now, Crazy George was traveling all over the country banging his drum at games. It was a dream. I was having more fun than anybody. They pay me to do what I was doing for seven years for nothing and having fun with it then. And they start paying me and they started paying me more and more.

This is Crazy George, Mr. Insanity. His ability to instigate fans has captured the imagination of spectators and sports teams alike.

Back up for the Rockies to center ice. A quick pass. One night shortly after going pro, George got a gig working a hockey game for the Colorado Rockies of the NHL, who desperately needed his help to get the crowd into the game. That night, it was a smaller crowd. They hardly ever do more than 7,000 a game.

They were just a struggling franchise in the NHL. And, you know, of course, we were probably being beat. So he wanted to start a cheer with three sections of fans to try to wake up the sleepy building. And so there was three sections that had a lot of people in it. So I took these three sections...

And I said, OK, I want to start here and I want you to stand up and sit down as I point to you. And I said, I want everybody to just yell go. The section starts. I just want you to stand and yell go, go, go. When George felt it was time to rally the crowd, he pointed to the section he wanted to stand first. Physically, I have the whole section stand up.

Suddenly, as the fans followed George's lead, it was contagious.

Butts started to rise up out of the seats. The sections next to them saw what they did and did the same. I didn't have to talk to the next section all at once when I went there. Go, go, go. I stopped, but the next section stood up and yelled, go. And they would just throw up their arms. And it kept going. And it got bigger and louder as it went. It's going now. And I thought, all right, this is good.

The sections of fans standing up to cheer and sitting down one section at a time in sequence sort of looked like waves in the ocean. That cheer, after it died or stopped, the place went nuts because they'd never seen anything like it. Neither did I. I was happy to. I knew right then, I knew that's the cheer I'm going to keep doing.

I knew that. So I had that new cheer in my arsenal. Crazy George started what everyone would soon be calling the wave. When Snap returns, George's new little cheer looks like with a few thousand fans. But how about a sold-out stadium? Stay tuned. Snap Judgment is brought to you by Progressive Insurance.

Welcome back to Snap Judgment, the WAVE episode.

And last we left, professional cheerleader Crazy George started a never-before-seen cheer at an empty hockey game that sparked a crowd reaction unlike anything he expected. But can George pull it off in primetime? Snap Judgment.

Crazy George debuted the wave in Colorado and would break it out at smaller events like high school rallies. But he never showcased it in a big stadium. And that's when the time came to go to the Oakland A's game. Of course, when it came to cheering, no one could ignore the A's 10th man, Crazy George Henderson. During the 1981 season, the Oakland A's hired George to come cheer for 25 of their biggest home games.

I've only done one major league baseball team, and that's the Oakland A's. The swinging A's dominated baseball in the 70s, winning three straight World Series titles.

But as the 80s approached, they hit a post-dynasty slump, and the once proud A's were now a last place team, with rumors spreading that they might leave Oakland.

When new owner Walter Haas bought the team in 1981, he knew of Crazy George and his reputation for stirring up Bay Area crowds and thought he could help revitalize the atmosphere at the Oakland Coliseum. I showed up, and after I did one game, they just loved it. Go, Wayne! Go!

I'd do a cheer, then I'd run up the row. I'd run to the next thing. And 10, 20 seconds, 30 seconds, I'm in the next section ready to do a cheer. Back and forth cheers, four-quarter cheers, clapping, you name it. Crazy George. Crazy George Henderson gets them all going. And it's amazing. I think he's not bumped up. When I would walk in,

I could take the fans and get ten times more reaction than they ever saw before. And the owners in general manner, everybody, players, loved it. It was game-changing. The A's win the West! George controlled the crowds in Oakland as if he'd been there for years. And during that 1981 season, the A's returned to their winning ways, finishing with the best record in the American League.

So on October 15th, in a sold-out nationally televised playoff game against the rival New York Yankees, with 47,000 fans in attendance, Crazy George felt it might be time to introduce the Wave to the world. I knew at the start, I knew I wanted maybe to try the Wave, but I just didn't know if I could do it.

But when I walked into that stadium, we're playing the Yankees. Such rivalry and it's just, we wanted to beat them so bad. And we'd already lost two games away. So we had to win or we're out of the playoffs. So I thought that wave, it was needed. And I knew what it could do. Energy could add to a stadium.

But I'd only been doing it for like six months or a year before that in little venues. But I said, if I pull it off here, this could be big. It is 72 degrees here in Oakland. A good crowd on hand. In the background I hear, I'm sure you hear the Oakland fans reacting to their Oakland A's. They love them here. The Yankees want to nail it down tonight and go on to World Series. But the Oakland A's say not just yet. That was an important game, big important game.

And it was a nationally televised game. I wanted to win that game. The Coliseum in Oakland, the game is scoreless. Numerous threats by each team. Nobody's been able to push one across the plate. So the game starts and we just are not scoring. It's a low-scoring game. It's depressing. And I go, well, I've got to pull this off because I have a feeling it really could do something. So I'm going, I'm going to try it.

Now remember, nobody had ever seen it before. And so I went into this one section and I said, this is the time. It's about the third inning. I could feel that atmosphere going down, that inevitable we're going to get eliminated, the Yankees. So I get the three sections. I wanted three sections to talk to. And I talked to the three sections and I told them what I wanted.

And I said, "First you guys stand up, you sit down, then you're gonna stand up." And you say, "No, I spent, I was screaming, I was mean." - These fans are really enthusiastic. And I'll tell you the way it's been going, it's like it's been boiling and bubbling, a Mount St. Helens feeling here where something's gonna erupt. - And then I knew that when we start this, the fourth and fifth section down, they probably could hear me easily yelling at them. And I started with these three sections

And the energy that's just then was great. And they were having so much fun doing it. And then it went about seven sections. The three were great. The next one was pretty great. And then it... And just... Because everybody's watching the game. And boy on cue, when that died...

Everybody booed. And everybody's looking over what's going on. I do it a second time. And it starts off, and now it's like eight, nine sections really strong. It's behind home plate. Wow.

And it starts to die and it died.

And I'm screaming, I'm yelling, they keep it going. They said, okay, George, we got it. Now, one third of the stadium has done it.

The third time.

This was it. I started it. I turned around and I'm watching it and all three decks are doing it in unison. All three. Sweeps all the way around. Comes back through the outfield and comes to where we are. And the play is sweet nuts.

Now every deck is doing it and they're screaming as it's coming by. And it's like the most intense thing you ever saw.

It sounded like a locomotive. It really did. And I mean, it coming towards you, massive locomotive at noise level. And it just picks up. And so you can visually shut your eyes and listen and know where the wave was in the stadium. Just hear it. And you could hear it on the outfield. You could come in here out and it just rips by you. And it kept going and they loved it. They raised up and you don't go. The next section gets up.

It impressed me even. I was unbelievably happy watching it go because I had no idea if I could get 47,000 fans to do it. It was the biggest crowd I'd ever worked with. Once it got going...

Oh boy, I just felt it. You know, I just sit there watching it and I'm just taking it in. It was really a nice feeling. In the back of my mind, I was hoping they would have it filmed. It's never been on video. The game was excruciating towards the end. I mean, the fans were just so loyal and they were cheering and yelling and supporting the A's. At the end of the game, it would sound like we were winning the game.

and we were behind. And it was tough, a tough loss. But the joy after the game, the fans' reaction to me, they were coming up to me and going, what was that? We loved it. People had never seen it before. And I didn't know it at that time I debuted it to the world because I didn't know it was going to go around the world. Okay, okay, stand up. You got it. Keep it going. Keep it going. That's all right. That's a beautiful way. It's not on

After showcasing the wave to a national audience, Crazy George started using it regularly at games as his signature cheer. I like when he has the A's wave going around. Yeah, that's the best.

That cheer was the staple of me hitting the pinnacle of power. That is when I know I've got the stadium in the palm of my hand. The big debut of the Wave instantly led to more jobs and bigger contracts for Crazy George, and his celebrity status grew. At first, it seemed like his golden ticket.

His name is George Henderson, although to most sports fans around North America, he is best known as Crazy George. Yes, he has fun, but when you take a look at his annual income, you realize that this man is not crazy at all. But not long after George unveiled it at the A's game, the unthinkable happened. George was questioned by a reporter in Canada about whether or not he was actually the original creator of the cheer. I never heard of it, never thought of it.

When I heard a team was trying to challenge me inventing the wave. The reporter told George that the University of Washington was claiming that they were in fact the founders of the wave. After fans did it at a football game, right around the same time, George pulled it off in Oakland. And so he told me that they were taking credit for it. And they were claiming they did it on the 31st, two weeks after I did it.

and after it was nationally televised during the game. I did October 15th, they did it on October 31st. So two weeks later, they did it. But I didn't hear they were claiming it. That's when I called up the University of Washington to find out. It was really, I got mad and I wanted to correct it. And I figured it'd be really easy. I'd call them up and I called the University of Washington, their athletic department, and I'd talk into the guy.

And I said, well, when did you start this? And they gave me the date and all that. And I'm going, no, I invented it. I say, I know I invented it. And it took a long process. And I invented it on October 15th. I have a video. He says, no. I said, well, I did it two weeks before you. And we get this argument. George reached out to newspapers, radio shows, anybody that would listen.

But the claims kept coming in. Sports Illustrated, you know, they're supposed to be like the premier great experts on sports. So somebody in Sports Illustrated did some little article on it and gave Washington credit. And then I heard somebody on Monday Night Football say that Seattle created the wave. I couldn't believe it. The story of the birth of the wave was getting retold across the country...

and now had a life of its own. That is the originator of the wave. So he claims, so he claims, right? That is greatly debated. We're doing the wave! We're doing the wave! Are you ready? Even though his claim to fame as the inventor was being questioned, Crazy George kept leading the wave, and it kept spreading. I did it at the Olympics here in 84.

And then Mexico saw it, took it down there, started doing all their venues. Then the World Cup comes along. And in every game in the World Cup, all the Mexicans did the wave. And the Azteca Stadium is a mess of flags and jubilant faces. Now it's televised around the world. So now the whole world sees the wave for the first time.

and everybody calls it the Mexican Wave. Well, I can fight the University of Washington, but I can't fight Mexico. I'm under gun, so I said, I just like to laugh about it, but everybody calls it outside of this country. It's the Mexican Wave. They invented it. When it finally became like a standard of the world,

I mean, I think every sport, every team that's professional, no matter what it is, probably did a wave at this stadium. And it's just gone around the world. This is a legend. He invented the wave. I invented it. He invented it. How old were you in 1981? That's what I thought. The guy that invented the paperclip. He invented that. It's a little thing.

But he's walking around, he's going by some office and somebody is slipping that paper clip onto five pages of something. He gets something out of that. He gets an enjoyment that he invented that and they're using it. And they're happier for it. It's better than having five sheets of paper flying all over the room and you can't figure out what order they're in. And that's what I do. And I see...

That wave going anywhere. I just, I feel great about it. It is really my claim to fame. Let me see it again. That's the highlight film. 1981. More than 47,000 fans of the Oakland A's say goodbye to an incredible season. Look at that. Throughout the 43-year debate over who invented the wave, the Oakland A's always stood by George.

The A's were great. And when they heard about the controversy, kept backing me. I'm part of the Oakland A's. I'm supporting you guys. I'm part of you. And I'm showing you how much we love you by interconnecting with all the other fans to show the support. So last September, for the A's final game in Oakland, the last in the Coliseum, the send-off for the whole city saying goodbye to its baseball teams,

Former President Andy Dolich reached out to George personally and asked him to be a guest of the A's. Perhaps the most popular A's fan of them all, the Coliseum is where Crazy George invented the wave during the 1981 playoffs, so he had to be here today. It's a happy, sad day. Oh my gosh, I cannot believe it. The last A's game, I said, well, I'll bring my drum, but I don't know what I'll do.

And, you know, and then I pull into the parking lot. My drum's there. I get my drum out of the back. And we're sitting in the middle of the parking lot. And within like 10 seconds, there's 15 people around me.

And I'm looking around, and they're just going crazy, crazy, Georgia. And it's so sad, and they're so unhappy, but they all want to support the A's, the team itself. The A's are the greatest baseball team in the world. I'm flying, A's. I hope you're back. Go, A's. You invented the wave. I cried there. I started doing little cheers. Cheers.

I pounded my drum and the place just all looked up and I'm screaming, yelling, they're screaming, yelling back and it's getting more and more fun. And then for one last time, Crazy George led the wave in the place he introduced it to the world. When I'm gone, they will be talking about the wave.

And so it means a lot to me. Let's make Crazy George proud! That's for Crazy George. That's a good one. A huge Snap Judgment thank you to the man, the myth, the legend, Crazy George Henderson for sharing your story with The Snap.

At 80 years young, George is still banging the drum at his alma mater, San Jose State, for the Spartans. And George just celebrated his 50th season cheering professionally for the San Jose Earthquakes of Major League Soccer. To read more about the life and times of George, check out his memoir, Still Crazy After All These Cheers. You can find the link to the book,

as well as all things social media for Crazy George at SnapJudgment.org. This piece was edited by Anna Sussman. The original score is by Dirk Schwarzoff. It's produced by Bo Walsh.

Oh, don't go anywhere. Because after the break, from behind the dugout, a real-life Batboy. Stay tuned.

Welcome back to Snap Judgment. Today, everyone wants the dream job, but it always goes to someone else. That is the rule. But what happens when that someone else is you? Now, this story does contain explicit language. Sensitive listeners are advised.

This story starts back in the early 70s New York, when Merritt Riley was the Yankees' biggest 11-year-old fan. I was hardcore. Well, actually, my mom and dad were big Yankee fans, so I really didn't have a choice to tell you the truth. It was always extra special to be at a game, smelling the grass and smelling the popcorn. You know, I always sought to get autographs and meet the players. But at the games...

I'd be sitting there watching the bat boy retrieving foul balls, and I always wondered, how in God's name can I become that kid? I figured, you know, what the hell, I'll give it a shot, and I wrote a letter to Yankee Stadium. I didn't address it to anybody in particular, just hoping it would get a response. And he did, pretty quickly, from a bat boy named Joe. Being the kid I was, I got the letter, and I was so excited. It was written on Yankee letterhead stationery, and I was like, wow, this is it. I showed my mom and dad.

Bat Boy Joe wrote back and said in order to join the Bat Boy Club... You had to have good grades, athletic ability, be 16 years old. Merritt only met one of these requirements. He was a smarty pants. Yeah. But over the next five years, Merritt set his little mind and body to it. And bada bing, bada boom, Joe hooked him up and Merritt became a Yankee Bat Boy. And even before he did any Bat Boy things...

It changed his life. I'm kind of making fun of myself here. When I was in high school, I was like a little nerdy kid, you know? I wasn't really, you know, one of those popular kids, you know what I mean? All of a sudden, everybody wanted to be my friend. Kids that I thought would never talk to me because they were the cool kids, they were the jocks. You know, it's funny because a lot of those kids are friends still today.

Best part of the job was being around players that, you know, a year or two before I was watching on TV and only dreaming that it would be like a dream to, you know, to meet these people, you know, and now I'm in the same locker room as them.

Being a Bat Boy is no easy work. Merritt shined all the players' cleats, did the laundry, and during practices, he'd shag fly balls. But his most important job was during the game. During the game, you have one responsibility. Once that player that's at home plate hits the ball, whether it's a base hit or an out, your main and only responsibility is to make sure that the ball is hit.

is to get that bat and get it right back to the dugout. Once in the dugout, all Merritt had to do was return the bat to the bat container, where the other bats hung out. During the game, the Yankees were very, very strict about not being part of the game, you know, being invisible, really. Now, Merritt was planning the rest of his life and career from his gig as a bat boy. If he did a good job, his plan was to become an umpire.

Well, that was the hope, at least until July 24th, 1983, Yankee Stadium. Merritt's beloved Yankees were facing one of their biggest rivals, the Kansas City Royals. It was a Sunday afternoon in July, and back then the Yanks and Kansas City, they saw each other a lot in the playoffs, and it was a packed house. You know, it was hot, it was a loud, you know, boisterous crowd.

Now, this game was extra special in merit, not because the heated rivalry, but because of one player on the Royals, the superstar hitter George Brett. For whatever reason, George Brett took a liking to me. Even though he was a superstar, he was like a regular guy. He'd clown around with everybody in the clubhouse. He'd always be breaking my traps about one thing or another. You know, kidding around, not mean. He had a nickname for me, and it was Spalding from Caddyshack. Spalding Smales.

Not the coolest nickname. Spalding from the movie Caddyshack is a spoiled brat infamous for picking his nose and eating it. You know what? It wasn't like I liked the nickname. I just liked that he noticed me enough to have a nickname for me. You know, he made you feel important. That made me like him, you know?

He definitely became my favorite. Yankee fan listeners, don't worry about it. His allegiance is still with you. Yeah, yeah. I mean, George Brett was one of those guys that I would secretly root for. As long as the Yankees would win the game, I was rooting for George Brett to do well. There weren't other players I could say that about that were not on the Yankees.

Alright, so back to the game. First inning. Second, third, fourth. The game didn't stand out for any reason. Seventh inning. Eighth inning. Alright, here we are on the top of the ninth inning. The Yanks are up 4-3. And it's a very close game with the Royals at bat with two outs and a runner on base. You know, you figured the Yanks are going to win this game. You have the Yankee closer, Goose Gossage, who basically was lights out once they brought him in. Paul.

But a player from Kansas City gets on base, and none other than my favorite player in baseball, George Brett, the crowd's on its feet. George Brett is known as the Yankee killer, but also well-known as the hemorrhoid guy. Back in the 1980 World Series, George had to leave a game early because hemorrhoid pain. Since then, every time he came up to bat, he was the butt of all jokes and jeers. The crowd is going wild, jeering at George Brett because of a hemorrhoidal issue.

I got a big conflict going on in my head. You know, I'm rooting for this guy, George Brett, to get the big hit. But at the same time, I want to see my favorite team win the game. So George Brett's at bat, and Goose Gossage leans in and delivers a pitch. Uh-oh. Uh-oh. I could tell just from the sound of the ball hitting the bat, this thing was going to leave the ballpark. There was a very quick moment of silence, and then all of a sudden the place went crazy. And now the Royals have the one-run lead.

So right away, I get up the home plate. I grab the bat. At the time, I know that I have to get that back to the dugout. But I said, you know what? I know I'll probably get in trouble, but I'm going to wait there. I'm going to wait there with the bat. And I want to high-five him when he comes around because he was such a good person to me. I wanted to show that I'm a Yankee fan, but I'm a George Brett fan.

While I'm standing there at home plate waiting for George Brett to round the bases, the manager of the Yankees, Billy Martin, is on the top step of the dugout. The veins of his neck just like protruding from his neck because he was screaming for his catcher to check the bat, check the bat. Right after that, the catcher of the Yankees rips it out of my hand and he begins to inspect the bat for cork. When players cork their bats, it makes the ball travel further. It's cheating. The

The catcher checked it for cork and then saw that there was no cork, and he just dropped it on the ground right next to me. I've got to be honest, I didn't know what was going on. At this time, George Brett now crossed his home plate and just went right to the dugout. I did not get to high-five him because now I was so caught up in what was going on. Right after that, the manager ends up at home plate screaming, I want that bat checked, I want it checked for pine tar. What he's talking about, Frank, is that he's got too much pine tar and...

The umpires are going to get together, George Brett looking around wanting to know what's going on and the umpires are going to talk about it. Pine tar is a sticky substance that players put on their wooden bats. Basically, it helps them grip the bat, swing the bat, and hopefully hit a home run. That pine tar up that far on the bat. First time in a long, long time I've seen the umpires huddle this long and have a meeting over it. They're feeling it, see, as if there's some sticky stuff around there.

But there is a limit to how much pine tar one can use, 18 inches from the tip of the handle, about the width of home plate. The umpires take the bat, they lay it down against home plate to determine if the pine tar was too far up the handle of the bat. I've never seen this. I never have either.

The umpires struggle to make a call, and that's because the pine tar rule, it's one of those obscure rules that's rarely enforced. And here, the crafty Yankee manager was waiting until the perfect moment to bring this tiny rule down on George's head. I'm thinking, if I would have just picked up the bat and gotten it out of there instead of waiting at home plate for the high five, none of this would be happening. That's Nick Bremigan with the bat. This is going to be an interesting call. Brett isn't sure whether he has a home run yet or not.

At that point, I stopped slinking away back towards the dugout, walking backwards. And the players were angry. And at one point, George Brett, who's now pacing up and down the dugout like a raging bull, he says, all I know is that if they call me out, you're going to see four dead umpires. Four dead umpires. Four dead umpires. And almost right after that, almost immediately after that, the whole paid umpire looks towards where the Kansas City Royals were.

and makes the outside. They might be going to call George Brett out. Well, he's out. Yes, sir. Brett is out. Look at this. Brett is out. He's teaming mad. George Brett just charges out of the dugout like a maniac. First couple of buttons on his shirt were like open. You know, his hair was a disaster. You know,

Oh, it was crazy. It was crazy. Now I position myself inside the dugout, at which point the players from Kansas City are yelling at me. Why the hell didn't you get the bat? I was... You could edit this? I would...

50,000 people and all these big baseball players. I was scared. I'm not afraid to say that. I was scared. At this point, all hell breaks loose. Yankee Stadium security, the guys in suits and ties, are out on the field.

And one of them comes up behind the umpire and swipes the bat out of the umpire's hand and makes a beeline for the dugout. At which point, a pitcher for the Kansas City Royals, Gaylord Perry, sneaks up behind the Yankee Stadium security and swipes the bat out of his hand. Well, a Yankee security person and one of the umpires quickly are chasing...

Whoever has the bat, Jose Martinez is holding Brett. Bobby, I've never seen this in my life. It was somewhat of a movie. It really was. It kept getting worse for me. It was like a bad nightmare. It kept getting worse.

The game ends. Yankee fans celebrate as they leave the stadium, while the Royal fans are still stunned. The players are gone. The umpires are gone. The whole swarm of people is gone. I'm in the dugout by myself. One of the clubhouse managers comes down and says, you don't want to go up into that locker room right now. The Kansas City Royals don't want to see you. They're pissed off at you.

So Merritt begins his post-game duties, knocking the mud out of spikes, cleaning up the Yankee locker room. At that point, I thought it was the end of the world. This is the biggest thing ever that's happened to me. The manager of the clubhouse, where the Royals were, came down and said, look, it's safe to go back down to the locker room. The guys that were angry had gone, so come on down. All I could tell you was I was real nervous. I entered the locker room very, very timidly.

And I open the door to the locker room. On the left-hand side is a swarm of reporters. And guess who's in the center of this swarm? You guessed it. Superstar George Brett. The one guy I don't want to see, and he's one of the only ones left. So I try to make my way towards the back of the locker room. I figured he wouldn't see me because there were so many reporters around him. And I go walking through, and, you know, you couldn't have planned it any better. The reporters move out of the way, and all of a sudden he locks eyes with me.

And I'm thinking, holy, you got to be kidding. I thought I was dead. Yeah. Yeah. I figured my heart was broken already. He's so he's like Spalding. And I stopped dead in my tracks. And I didn't expect that at all, that he would be in the mood where he's calling me by my nickname, you know? And I was like, yeah. And he looks at me, he says, why didn't you get the back?

And I'm like, holy Christ, what do I say? What do I say? You know, I'm speaking to a major league baseball player. I'm 17, 16, 17 years old. And before I could answer, he just started laughing. He said, I'm only kidding around with you. He goes, don't worry about it. And then he said, but you do owe me. And I remember saying, as clear as day, whatever you want, whatever you need. So he says to me, do you want me to tell you what he says to me?

He says to me, the next time I'm back here in New York City, he goes, you're going to get me laid. And I said to him, you want me to get you laid? And I started laughing, you know, and he laughed and that was pretty much it. After the Pintar game, people called George Brett a cheater for using a special bat. But George, he got the last laugh.

Eventually, the Pintar ruling was overturned, George got his home run back, and the Royals won the game. Oh, and remember the Hemorrhoids nickname? That was now behind him. As a result of the Pintar game, that nickname was forever gone. People don't even know about it, really.

I know this whole incident could be blamed on my hero worship of George Brett. You know, any other player, I went up and retrieved bats probably thousands of times. The one time I didn't do it, this baseball history was made. He's out. He is out. Bobby, I've never seen this in my life. And still to this day, I still have not gotten that high five I was looking for. Thank you, Merritt Riley, for sharing that story with us now.

Merritt still considers himself the Yankees' biggest fan. And a big shout-out as well to Daniel Barbarisi from the Wall Street Journal for bringing us that story. We'll have a link to his story on our website, snapjudgment.org. Original sound design by Renzo Gorio, and that piece was produced by Davey Kim. Oh, Snappers, if you missed even a moment, know that an entire world of Snap storytelling awaits in fact.

We recently dropped a brand new series diving into the world of incarcerated women firefighters battling the flames in California, hosted by our own Anna Sussman. It's called Fire Escape on podcast platforms everywhere right now. KQED in San Francisco is Snap's orbiting hall of justice. Snap is brought to you.

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