Boog! The Big Baseball Musical

(Pencil spotlight out)

(Curtain rises on the locker-room scene. It is a howling madhouse, jammed with a surging throng of people. There are half-dressed ballplayers lurching about gleefully: some in towels, some in just their playing socks, others wearing just their caps. Sportswriters are scurrying through the crowd, press cards stuck in their hatbands; flashbulbs are flickering. Television cameras bouncily try to follow the action. Manager Beano Brampson, wearing just his Oriole uniform shirt, which hangs down below his knees, is staggering about happily, lighted cigar clenched in his mouth. Behind him, the " Boog Powell for President" banner has been restored. As the music fades, Brampson is trying to explain the past several weeks to some newsmen)

BRAMPSON—...and as I said, as I said, you guys, that first grand-slam home run was hit so far that the ball came down in a potato field outside Philadelphia. And....

SPORTSWRITER—And then what about that next one?

BRAMPSON—(Beaming) Why, his next home run smashed the window of a delicatessen in Chevy Chase. And you know how far that is? Why....

SPORTSWRITER—And then the other two homers right after that went even farther. One landed in the upstairs bathroom of a house in Pittsburgh! And another one went all the way to....

BRAMPSON—(Slyly nudging the sportswriter in the ribs) I'll say! And the lady of the house was taking a bath at the time! Sploosh! Boy, talk about outfield!

SPORTSWRITER—His last three home-run balls have never been found, right? They could be in orbit!

COSELL—(Sidling up with a microphone) And tell our ABC audience out there, Mister Brampson. It is the opinion of this reporter that....

BRAMPSON—(Jerking his thumb in a familiar gesture) Somebody throw this bum oudda here.