The Legend of Brian Peacock

I went to my first Potomac Nationals game yesterday. Fun facts you may not know about the P-Nats:

1) There's a Ben's Chili Bowl in the stadium, one of only four in the entire country.

2) Albert Pujols used to play there when the team was a St. Louis affiliate.

3) The owner of the team is the first base coach. (Shades of Jackie Moon!) He's also one of only two people in MLB still allowed to wear #42, Jackie Robinson's number, because he was wearing it before it was retired.

Of course, part of the appeal of minor league ball is the idea that you might get to see the superstars of tomorrow, but given that it's just Class A ball--even Class A-Advanced--it felt more like a college game. I don't know if any of these guys are going to get called up to the majors, but if you were taken in, say, the 19th...20th...39th round of the draft, you have to figure the odds are against you. But it was still a decent enough game, with the P-Nats eventually beating the Salem Red Sox 7-3. And for only $12 a ticket, it's hard to argue you didn't get your money's worth.

But I mainly want to talk about a player named Brian Peacock. Designated hitter, part-time catcher.

When he was introduced, I noticed that he got more cheers than any of the other P-Nats, and it turns out that's because he's been there for four years.

On his second at-bat, he hit to the shortstop, who threw the ball to first. As the ball was on its way, Peacock fucking hurtled himself headfirst towards first base, actually going airborne. The first baseman caught the ball and tried to tag him while Peacock was mid-air (and if we're being totally honest, I'm pretty sure he did) but Peacock landed right on first base and the umpire called him safe. Peacock got up and seemed like he might be injured, or at least winded. But then he just dusted himself off and tucked his jersey back in. It was an amazing play.

Grabbing a soda between innings, I noticed a table that was selling game-used bats for $15 each. They had all been cracked while hitting, and then autographed by the player who'd last swung it. I went over, looked at them, and right there, was a well-worn Louisville Slugger with a large crack in the handle, a little tag on it that said "Peacock," and was signed "BP 13." So I figured, what the hell, and bought it. While I was waiting for my change, the guy working the table and I made small talk. He said Peacock was having a great season.

(Going back to my seat, a grown man holding an autographed baseball bat, I felt more than a little stupid, and if anyone around me had asked, I was fully prepared to say it was a gift for a non-existent nephew. But fortunately, it never came up.)

Not long afterwards, Peacock was up to bat again. He got in his stance, the pitcher threw the ball, and...BANG. It hit him right in the helmet. Peacock just dropped to the ground.

When athletes get hurt, we're sort of conditioned to see them roll around and grimace a bit, and then get up, shake it off, and get back to work. But Peacock didn't get up. In fact, he didn't even move.

He was on his back for about 15 minutes, as various people, including the other team's trainer, and eventually, the EMTs, tended to him. A few of Peacock's fans shouted some unkind--though under the circumstances, surprisingly PG--words at the pitcher who'd hit him. I'm not sure how people knew before it happened, but word spread through the crowd that he was going to be airlifted to the trauma center in Fairfax. And sure enough, a few minutes later, a helicopter flew into view, circled around a couple of times, and landed outside the stadium.

Peacock was put on a gurney and wheeled out of the ballpark, as everyone--his teammates, the fans, and the other team--applauded. And then he put up one hand, and waved to the crowd. Since no one in the stands even knew whether or not he was conscious at that point, it was a great thing to see, and people cheered even louder. I'd say there were about 1,500 people in the stadium. If it had been a major league ballpark, the noise would have been deafening.

Hopefully, Peacock will make a full recovery, and he'll get promoted. I'd love to see him play at Nationals Park one day. But regardless of whether he does, this is now my favorite piece of sports memorabilia that I own.

I mean, granted, it's not like there's a whole lot of competition in that category. My former favorite piece of sports memorabilia is a D.C. Armor hat signed by Chuck Brown. But still. It's pretty damn cool.