In a 100-game schedule that runs from late February to September, a group of NE Ohio baseball fans share in the joy of a baseball simulation game and each other.
Thomas Ondrey, The Plain DealerWorld Baseball Association manager David Shires awaits the result of an at-bat during a Strat-O-Matic game against Jim Forbes in the basement of a Brunswick home in March. "We all love baseball," said league commissioner Mike Meissner, 57, of Fairview Park. "That's what we have in common."
CLEVELAND, Ohio -- The Indians are into the first full week of the season, but as far as these 12 men are concerned, baseball season started more than a month ago.
And on a recent game night, it sure sounded like baseball season.
"Jim's trying to steal home! ... He's out!"
"Chipper's up, two down, second and third ... strikeout."
"Two-out bingo. C'mon Big Papi."
Such banter emanates from members of the World Baseball Association, a 12-team Strat-O-Matic baseball league whose first pitch was thrown in 1980 -- back when Mike Hargrove was at first base and Rick Manning played center for the Indians.
League managers come from all walks of life and Northeast Ohio locales. Every other Thursday, in a 100-game schedule that runs from late February to when a World Series champion is finally crowned in September, they share in the joy of a game and each other.
"We all love baseball," said Mike Meissner, 57, of Fairview Park, the league's founder and commissioner. "That's what we have in common."
Strat-O-Matic is based on statistically accurate Major League Baseball player cards and the probability of dice. When combined, devoted players say they get swept up in the realism and strategy they don't find in video games or fantasy leagues.
Boys usually pass through "Strat" on their way to routine and responsibility. But somewhere along the way, the managers of the WBA decided they didn't want to let it go.
Sportscaster Bob Costas, a lifelong Strat fan, discusses the game
"I don't know about you guys," said Jim Pehotsky, a 50-year-old Cleveland Clinic psych nurse who joined the league 20 years ago, "but for me, for six hours every other week, we get to be kids again."
Hal Richman was an 11-year-old kid in New York when he invented the game in 1948. He perfected it through summer camp and as a student at Bucknell University, to the point where it went mainstream. The official version of Strat-O-Matic celebrated its 50th anniversary last year.
The WBA hasn't been around that long, but it's close. Meissner, who started playing with friends at St. Ignatius in 1970, launched the league by advertising for players in a Strat-O-Matic magazine after returning from Harvard Law School. The league had eight teams and an 81-game schedule that first year.
"My goal was, I wanted a league that lasted a long time," said Meissner, a Squire Sanders corporate tax lawyer.
It has, mainly because he's so dedicated. Meissner produces a bi-weekly newspaper, called "The Daily Observer," with standings, statistics and game stories. He also puts out a season wrap-up, maintains all-time statistical leaders and has kept up a season-by-season review since Day One.
"The league would fall apart without him," Pehotsky said.
But no league can't exist for 33 years without turnover. The average manager's tenure is 15 years; most are in their 40s and 50s. Some have moved or quit. Three died, including one mid-season. When one of the managers died 10 years ago, Dave Shires, 62, the only other WBA founder still active in the league, placed his lucky dice in his friend's coffin.
"I figured he needed something where ever he was going," he said.
Teams with such catchy names as the North Coast Gnats, West Park Wolves and Newburgh Heights Schnobs try to squeeze in four nine-inning double-headers each game night.
Those outside the sphere of Strat-O-mania wouldn't understand. By now, Chris Peer, 39, a lawyer from Strongsville, is used to the questions and strange looks.
"The reaction," he said, "is, 'You're a dork. What is it, dungeons and dragons for sports?'"
There is no entry fee. Champions don't win a World Series share, just bragging rights and their names on a three-foot-tall trophy that's passed around each year. It's like a roving poker game -- without the money, cigars and alcohol.
"The cash wouldn't mean anything," said Pehotsky, of North Olmsted, who's won the league a record seven times, including a stretch of six years in a row. "Just winning the league..."
On a recent game night, nine managers set up on three card tables in the basement of retired RTA maintenance supervisor Paul Werner's house in Brunswick.
Between games, managers helped themselves to pizza, veggies and dip, bowls of chips and nuts and pop. The televised replay of the major-league opener in Japan between Seattle and Oakland was on mute. Instead, the room was filled with clinking dice and baseball chatter.
"Mabin ... not a good number. ... He strikes out."
"C'mon, double play, Upton."
"C'mon Escobar, 6-5, that's your card."
Then mailman Jim Fletcher busted through the steady murmur with his calling card any time one of his players hits a homer: "Ding ding, ding ding ding!"
Managers shake hands and wish each other luck before each game. Sportsmanship is the rule, but frustration occasionally turns them into Billy Martin. Fletcher once flipped former pitcher Bill Swift's card into a nearby kiddie pool in disgust. Another manager once set a player's card on fire.
"I have been known to rip a player in half," Meissner said. (It was closer Joe Nathan, after blowing an important save.)
But mostly it's just friendly ribbing -- the kind you might find in a close-knit clubhouse.
"The guys are like brothers I never had," said Shires, manager of the Brooklyn Backstops. "Baseball -- it's the common denominator."
The thrill of the game
What does a Strat-O-Matic game look like? In 1992, a league of friends gathered in Florida for their yearly draft of the I-75 Strat-O-Matic League and began their season. On this night, a little video history was achieved -- thanks to the Strat card of Nolan Ryan.