The Backbone of our Game

Tomorrow night, at the Beverly Hilton Hotel, the Professional Baseball Scouts Foundation will have its annual gala, and I can?t wait.  The PBSF was formed to provide support to scouts of professional baseball who have fallen on hard times due to illness, job loss, retirement or other financial setbacks. 

I am proud to say that I am a member of the PBSF.  As a former scout, I can tell you how hard these men work, and what their collective impact has on our beloved game.  Without them, and their tremendous effort, there are no players in the big leagues.  They drive all hours of the night, from town to town, to watch high school games, college tournameScout_business_card nts and random workouts only to try to find the next star.

Their sacrifice is the benefit of every fan.  I can remember the hardship of being away from my family, but also the joy and reward of signing a player who you think is not only a great talent, but a young man of character and class.  Believe me; it?s not as easy as people think. 

I am also proud to present the Tommy Lasorda Award.  The award is given to the most outstanding major league manager.  Last year was the first year the award was given, and I was honored to receive it as the Manager of the Century.  I won?t tell you who this year?s recipient is, but I will say that he is most deserving.

So next time you go to a ball game, or tune into one on the TV, remember that you are enjoying the hard work and sacrifice of baseball scouts.


Hello Tommy
I met you once – Christmas-time, 1978. I doubt seriously that you would remember it, but I’ve spoken to three people associated with the love of my life – baseball. Those three are Pete Rose, Paul O’Niell (both at a ballcard show – O’Niell’s rookie year) and yourself.

My family had driven from Dayton, Ohio to L.A. to visit my uncle and his family for Christmas in 1978. While the entire family was firmly entrenched as Reds fans, my mom had a perverse affection for your squeeky clean firstbaseman.

Well, while on vacation, my uncle took us to see Johnny Carson. While waiting to get in, you came strolling by. My mom called out gleefully, “Hey Tommy! Where’s Steve Garvey tonight?” (it was (8:30-9:00 pm) Your reply was spot-on: “In bed, like all good athletes.”

I couldn’t resist. The Yankees had just beaten the Dodgers (the Reds archrivals throughout the 1970s) for the second straight year, which of course endeared them to me (“REG-GIE!!! REG-GIE!!!”), so I followed up my mom’s question with one of my own – “What’s the matter, Tommy, can’t you guys beat the Yankees….?” It was the only time I’ve seen you without a reply ready. Every time I see you on TV, I remember that question, and your failure to answer it. Of course, I also remember the wrath of Shirley (my mom). She was angry at her young son for days because I had acted disrespectfully.

Now, I’m not bragging or trying to disrepect you or the Dodgers organization. Now that I’m a grown man, I have of course gained the insight and respect for the Garvey-lead Dodger teams of the 1970s.

But, in my heart, I’m still glad the Big Red Machine was better – which of course they were.

Happy New Years – take care of yourself. You are one of the baseball community’s true commodities.

Gary Maloy

PS. is now if you are inclined to reply.


Just think, Your brothers would be proud if you could come home and manage the Phillies !!!!!

Tommy: I know of your great love for the history of the game and I need your help. A 20’wall still stands of Ebbets Field and its not on the National History Registry. I created a blog and would love to get your help on speading the word to save it.

David Martin Baseball Fan

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