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Prime Times Weekly publication of the Mail Tribune , Medford, Oregon The hardball antics of... SENIOR SOFTBALL Lou Hastings, left, manager of the Anaheim Dodgers slow-pitch senior softball team, joins with Rondal Cunningham, right, in sending Bob Morales off to bat. The senior game, once mainly a social activity, has become highly competitive as companies offer money and other incentives to successful teams. Big-money sponsors and competitive baby boomers have turned the once-leisurely game into one in which winning is what matters most By ELEANOR YANG Los Angeles Times It was the eve of the Senior Softball World Championships, and the Huntington Beach, Calif., Seacrest Mavericks were vying for the coveted title. But they needed 47-year-old pitcher Mark Olson -- and they needed him to be 50. Team manager Lou Hastings, 77 of the Anaheim Dodgers, takes a swing at the ball at John Marshall Park in Anaheim. Southern California, with its balmy climate, has on of the largest concentrations of senior slow-pitch softball players in the U.S., with some 250,000 participants. On tournament day, Olson said, he was slipped a copy of a birth certificate aging him three years. Someone also doctored the ages of two other Maverick players, who helped humiliate the competition, 31-8, last year in Chicago. The Mavericks cherished their 14-karat gold championship rings over the winter, but then the ruse was uncovered and the team was stripped of its title. The three players were suspended for life, league officials said. Olson, for one, remains unrepentant: "Players all over the nation are too young. We were just the ones caught." Welcome to the hardball world of slow-pitch senior softball, where explosive growth has forever changed this once leisurely pastime. Much of it has to do with demographics. As they do with pretty much everything else, aging baby boomers are swelling the senior sports ranks and introducing competitive drive to what used to be a social gathering disguised as an easygoing exercise regimen. These younger weekend warriors -- mostly males -- want a gut-busting workout. They want to hit every ball out of the park. They want to win. Add to that the surprising amount of money at stake in one of the fastest growing sports in the nation. Far from the days when players' T-shirts would boast the names of local supermarkets, now companies such as Louisville Slugger kick in tens of thousands to underwrite teams and titles, all in an effort to take advantage of new sales opportunities. From Palm Springs, Calif., to Tallahassee, Fla., cities bid well over $100,000 to play host to four- to eight-day senior softball tournaments, with the leagues using the proceeds to cover expenses and team prizes. The games are said to reap a $5 million to $6 million boost for the local economy by the time free-spending adults come to play softball and then to play tourist. Leagues also make thousands charging membership fees -- and more for players to enter championship matches. Basic membership fees can be as little as $15, but travel and lodging for championship play can run into the hundreds of dollars. Softball standouts are courted for their on-field prowess, lured by perks including luxury hotel suites and steak and lobster dinners. And it's all legal. What's prohibited is forging birth certificates, fudging residency records and paying cash directly to players. But league leaders acknowledge that payouts are quietly employed by powerhouse teams as an added incentive. For example, home runs and exceptional tournament play may earn some under the table bonuses. "You can make some serious money -- what with $500 per weekend tournament and another $100 for each of the 15 to 20 home runs you hit that weekend," Olson said. The payouts often come from enthusiastic team boosters as well as sponsors. Money also flows into the sport from wealthy business owners who have always dreamed of owning their own sports team. Some get a kick out of putting themselves into the starting lineup, while others are content to recruit players, said Bob Mitchell, president of Senior Softball-USA, the nation's largest senior softball league. The problems have reached such a pitch that the sport's seven national leagues are holding a softball summit in February to decide the game's future. "Any time you have national honors, your picture in the paper, a ring on your finger, there'll be people who will do what they have to, to get what they want," said Ridge Hooks, executive director of the Senior Softball Hall of Fame and a summit organizer. "That's just human nature." Still, Hooks wonders where the sport went wrong: "Who would have ever thought senior softball would get to this?" Senior softball began in the 1930s, the brainchild of recreation directors in St. Petersburg, Fla. Players in the first game -- it was the Kids vs. the Kubs -- walked between bases and sported white trousers and black bow ties, more interested in socializing than in the final score. That image is one of the reasons the sport didn't gain momentum until the 1980s, when a handful of organizers backed the first national titles and piqued the interest of competitive types. Promoters then began marketing a more aggressive version of the game to affluent, aging adults who wanted no part of shuffleboard. Most leagues require players to be at least 50 years old, but beyond that, requirements vary. Some leagues demand that players live within certain communities, while others have no residency requirements. Senior softballers, serious and not-so-serious alike, have grown to 1.4 million, up from 1 million players a decade ago. "In terms of active sports, it's the biggest senior sport around," said Thomas B. Doyle, vice president of the National Sporting Goods Assn., which tracks sports participation. The largest concentration of players -- about 250,000 -- is in Los Angeles, Orange and San Bernardino counties, with their balmy temperatures and sizable retirement communities. A new league was recently launched encompassing 400 existing Southern California teams. One Pacentia, Calif., team, which consists exclusively of players 65 and older, includes Robert "Duf" Sfreddo, who has a .700 batting average. Another standout is Steve Hill, a 6-foot-4 first baseman who played with the Baltimore Orioles in the 1950s, said Carlos Becerra, the team's manager. "It's difficult to find 65-year-old people who can play and travel and are healthy. You have to pick them from all over," Becerra said, adding that he spent more than $100,000 to cover this year's team expenses. The money came from sponsors. Some league officials disagree about whether or not traveling expenses should be out of bounds. But nearly all agree that the biggest problem is the dicier expenses -- the bonuses, the cash awards. Stories abound of players negotiating to have teams cover their child support payments, or holding out for thousands of dollars for tournament performance. Everyone has a tale about a player who gets $100 for home runs. Vicky Oltean, recreation manager for the city of Palm Springs, says she's seen it all. "Buying players has got to be one of the biggest controversies," said Oltean, who has been running national softball tournaments for 13 years. "People have money, and they're willing to spend it to win." League officials say they are helpless to stop it. "These guys are smart. They don't write any of the contracts down; it's just an `understanding,' " said Mitchell of Senior Softball-USA. "You can't act on `understandings.' " Prime Times front page Mail Tribune front page Copyright � The Mail Tribune 1999, Medford, Oregon USA