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0307120305
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<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
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<DATE>
030713
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<TDATE>
Sunday, July 13, 2003
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
COM; CHOICES
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<PAGE>
1J
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<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM FREE PRESS COLUMNIST
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</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 2003, Detroit Free Press
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<HEADLINE>
BASEBALL GAME ANTICS GO FROM BAT TO WURST
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<BODY>
Well, I don't like sausages, either. But I never hit one with a baseball bat.

Then again, most of my sausages just sit on a plate, next to the hash browns.
I never saw one chugging around third base, racing a bratwurst, a hot dog and
a kielbasa. There's no telling what a man might do in those circumstances.

We know what Randall Simon did last week. The former Tiger, who now plays for
the Pittsburgh Pirates, leaned out of the dugout and swung his bat at the tip
of the sausage -- which, of course, was not a real, live sausage. No
self-respecting sausage would wear white tennis shoes.

This was a woman inside a sausage costume. Actually, not just any woman, but
an employee of the Milwaukee Brewers. At least they didn't make her wear a
beer can.

Nonetheless, even in a sausage costume, a blow from a baseball bat can have
repercussions. In this case, the Italian Sausage went down, tumbling into the
Hot Dog. The Bratwurst and Kielbasa, showing the kind of affinity that only
lunchmeat can know, stopped the race and came back to check on this
"wurst-case scenario."

What? You think I'm not going to use a few cheap ones?



What were they thinking?

And by now you know -- as Paul (Knockwurst) Harvey says -- the rest of the
story. Simon was led off the field in handcuffs. He was grilled. Or maybe
boiled. He insisted he was just love-tapping the sausage. Perhaps he was
checking to see if it was cooked.

Police considered charging him with battery -- or, at the very least, cruelty
to doggies, which carries a minimum fine of 100 franks.

Instead, the sheriff hit him with a disorderly conduct charge and a $432 fine.
Simon apologized, saying what he did with the sausage "wasn't my intention in
my heart." At this point, he was sounding like Bill Clinton.

Meanwhile, fans were outraged. They wanted Simon suspended for his sausage
attack, never once asking if he wanted mustard.

However, the woman inside the suit, 19-year-old Mandy Block, said she wasn't
hurt at all and blamed her momentary lifelessness on the heavy costume,
saying, "The reason I couldn't get up right away is because I couldn't get
up."

Why are we wasting a mind like that inside a sausage?

Now, there are a few questions to be asked here:

* 1) What was Simon thinking? I know baseball is boring. But if players have
to swing at wieners to stay involved, we might want to reconsider the national
pastime.

* 2) What was Mandy thinking? Racing as a sausage? Everyone knows the hot dog
is faster.

* 3) What were the fans thinking? They boo Simon, call him inhumane, violent
and the most amoral man on Earth, then they stop at the movie theater to see
"Terminator 3."



Why does food race?

Since when did racing foods become some sort of normal occurrence at sporting
events? In the last few years, I've seen doughnuts racing bagels, cookies
racing popcorn, now bratwurst racing kielbasa. It's only a matter of time
before filet mignon takes on steak tartare.

Isn't the whole point of going to a sporting event to see the teams and
players compete? Why do they have to pluck 3-year-olds from the stands to make
them dribble? Why do they ask some guy who is 140 pounds overweight to kick a
field goal?

Not that any of this excuses Simon, who proves that lumber should never be
left in the hands of a part-time player. "I've never hurt anyone in my life,"
he says. Then again, we've never seen what he does to soup.

Anyhow, for now, Sausage-gate is over. Young Mandy, a sudden celebrity, has
asked only for the bat that hit her, so that she can keep it as a souvenir.
(Years from now, she can warn her grandchildren, "Kids, don't go out with a
bun.")

Meanwhile, Simon's team has invited Mandy to come to Pittsburgh and sit in
"the best seat in the house."

I suggest behind the dugout. With some liverwurst. And when Simon comes out .
. .



Contact MITCH ALBOM at 313-223-4581 or  albom@freepress.com. "The Mitch Albom
Show" is 3-6 weekdays on WJR-AM  (760).
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