The Portland Mavericks' love of baseball

The last few months have been tough for baseball. The Astros’ cheating scandal has left an indelible mark on the sport that has left all of us with a bitter after-taste and now the season is now being delayed by the coronavirus pandemic, but not everything is doom and gloom as the Portland Mavericks will potentially make a come-back as an independent team.

You would be forgiven if you were to ask who the Portland Mavericks are. After all, they were just a single-A team who existed for a handful of years in the 70’s. Their story however, runs far deeper, and should be known by baseball fans all over the world. For English and European fans who follow football/soccer, the Portland Mavericks are the closest thing to AFC Wimbledon I can think of. They are a motley crew of guys who wanted to play baseball and have fun while doing it.

The story begins with Bing Russell. Bing spent the bigger part of his childhood in St. Petersburg, Florida, during the 40’s and 50’s. As it turned out, St. Petersburg was also the spring training camp of the New-York Yankees, which meant that little Bing was good friends with the likes of Joe DiMaggio, Lou Gehrigh and Lefty Gomez among others. As he grew up, Bing played independent baseball, but a string of injuries cut his career short. Without selling himself short, he went to Hollywood and made a name for himself as an actor, playing in movies such as The Magnificent Seven (1960), Elvis (1979), but was most known for his stint as Deputy Clem in Bonanza (1959-1973).

Bing’s first love was baseball though and, in 1972 when the Indians’ triple-A affiliate, the Portland Beavers, made the decision to relocate to Spokane, Bing saw an opportunity. The actor bought the territorial rights for a Portland team for $5000, and thus the single-A Portland Mavericks were born.

Bing Russell (left) with his son, future Mavericks player and actor Kurt Russell (right)

There was no indy ball back in 1973, and the Mavericks were the only independent club in the league. With a budget that you can expect was on the lower end, the team ran try-out sessions in order to field a team for the upcoming season. It is said that upwards of 300 people traveled to Portland to try for the team. The 2014 documentary, The Battered Bastards of Baseball, relates the story of several people who traveled from all over the world: some hitchhiked from Tennessee, others who crossed the country from New-York, their to-be pitcher Rob Nelson flew in from Cape Town. In the words of manager Frank Peters: “everybody there was rejected”. They were the people who did not get drafted, who fell just short. But they were also the people who didn’t care about the money, who didn’t want to make it to the majors but wanted to call themselves ballplayers. They were people who loved baseball.

Fully expecting to be rolled over by affiliated-teams, the Mavericks took everyone by surprise by not only winning their first game 4-0, but also by making it a no-hitter. From then on, the team went on a 5 years winning record, finishing either 1st or 2nd in the Northwest League. Frank Peters didn’t have any signs. If the players believed they had a shot, they were automatically given the green light. Their star player, Reggie Thomas had, for instance, 71 stolen bases in 66 games during the 1972 season. Third Baseman Joe Garza would climb the dugout, set a broom on fire, and dance around when the Mavs would sweep an opponent.

Player Joe Garza, standing on the dugout during a game

Fans would eventually bring brooms to the field and imitate him, calling this ritual the “Joegarza”. Now you could say that this is ridiculous, but at a time where everything was so regimented, when every ball club had strict rules about what players could and could not do, the Mavs were a breath of fresh air. Bing expected his players to enjoy themselves, to be outlandish. This was a modern version of David and Goliath as the Mavericks took on affiliated ball, and were making them look foolish. It worked. On average, the Mavs were attracting an average of 4000 spectators a game, breaking all the minor leagues attendance records of the time.

In 1977, the Mavs reached the league playoffs. After a 44-22 record season, Portland was playing against a Bellingham Mariners team who was reported to bring over some higher-class players to make sure Portland did not leave with the title, which would have proven to be a final humiliation for affiliated ball club owners. After tying the series 1-1, the Mavs unfortunately lost the tie-breaker 4-2, coming just short of a historic achievement.

Unlike most teams, the Mavs did not relocate. They proved to be such a thorn in the system’s foot that they were paid to leave. In late 1977 the Pacific Coast League, who was hoping to expand back to Portland, attempted to buy the rights to a minor league team from Bing. At the time, the compensation offered was around $25,000, five times the usual going rate. In a beautiful televised speech, Bing announced his intentions of not folding in and asked for $206,000. He and got it all after taking the matter to arbitration, and winning the case.

The Mavericks' team photo

I encourage anyone interested to watch The Battered Bastards of Baseball, a welcome distraction if you are in quarantine and missing baseball. And while this was a bitter-sweet end to the Portland Mavericks, it was announced in late 2019, that the team would be making a come-back and I, for one, am excited to see what is in store for this team.