Black Label Sunday Games

Black Label star pitcher Jeff Dodge

In April of 1985 I dislocated an ankle playing basketball. Consequently, I missed playing in most of the Fan District Softball League's season. (I did play in two or three games for the Max's Mutts team in late-July, but I really shouldn't have.) Anyway, it was during the time I was on crutches and couldn't play sports that I discovered the local punk scene's regular Sunday afternoon game in Byrd Park. 

First, as an amused spectator. Then as a limping player in late-summer.

Of course, I already knew some of them. Also during my time on crutches, I designed the first issue of SLANT that came out as a 16-pager in June. When I wrote about their Sunday game in SLANT, I called what I had seen in the park the "Black Label Team," or something like that. Now I don't know if I invented it, or maybe got it from some of the punks/players. It was the brand of beer that was most plentiful at their games/parties.

Having played a decade of organized softball, all in the Fan League, I already had enjoyed plenty of combining partying with team sports. Most of the city's organized softball world considered the Fan League to be “the hippie league.” But the founders of the Fan League weren't kids, anymore. By the mid-'80s we were pushing 40. 

The loose, colorful style of the Black Label gang was sort of a throwback to the early, freewheeling Fan League's salad days; before we Fan Leaguers learned how to play better and/or how to recruit better athletes ... all of which can lead to collectively taking the game a little too seriously. 

For instance, in the Fan League all the teams used 10 players on defense; it was normal and standard practice for any legit league. No variations. The Black Labels might have a dozen or more. 

Plus, in those days there was another anarchist style regular Sunday softball game I knew of, and had participated in, several times. It was staged at a field on Fulton Hill by a Main Street Grill-type crowd. It was interesting to see the similarities and differences.

The loyal fans.

One thing led to another and the following softball season I got talked into setting up a double header for the Black Labels. As it happened, some of them were almost strutting while they assured they could easily beat my team -- the 3rd Street Diner. In 1986, I was the coach and a still-limping outfielder for that new team in the Fan League. I told the black leather kids they were wrong. (As I remember it a few of them did actually play in their leather jackets. But I could be wrong, maybe it was only their fans on the sideline.) 

They also thought they could stay with the Fan League's best team – the Bamboo Cafe. Outside of wishful thinking, I had no idea what prompted any of them to think that could be true, so I explained they were laughably wrong with that.

Crispy

Eventually, it was settled on a Sunday afternoon on South Allen Avenue, which was The Diner team's regular practice field. As I remember the occasion, it was a pretty day. The Diner won the first game easily, but it wasn't a crazy score. 

Then, after a short break, to freshen up, the Bamboo crushed the Black Labels. The score was crazy. 

Nonetheless, everyone still had a fine old time during the games and throughout the after-party (except for a couple of the punks who got so drunk it turned them into sore losers). Overall, the culture clash was fun. 

After enough pats on the back and handshakes, it was generally agreed that it should be done again. But I don't think it ever was.

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 -- Words and photos by F.T. Rea