SUCCESS! The uteri union of badass baseball bitches (TUUOBBB for short) have accepted my warped and infantile mind and have allowed me to start blogging with them. This is literally the closets I’ve gotten to a baseball girl, well, ever. This leads me into one of the strange dichotomies in sports, The perception of men and women who are really into the players, maybe TOO into the players.
Men who are obsessive about players are referred to as “fan boys”. They’re the ones who are in three fantasy baseball leagues, can tell you the WHIP of any reliever and knew Manny was juicing years ago. They’re often celebrated amongst they’re co-workers as “baseball nerds” and while they might not be the most socially awkward, they’re social acumen ranges somewhere between sci-fi geek and Lord of the Rings devotee.
Women obsessive with players have a much more dirty and sinister moniker, Cleat Chasers. Ballplayers throughout the ages have called these ladies everything from beavers to sally’s but for those of us in the know, they’re cleat chasers plain and simple. They’re the ladies that come to the ball park to watch the guys in the tight pants and adjust their crotch ad- nauseium during the game. They wink at the guys in the bullpen and they dress way to sexy to drink stale lite beer and nosh on peanuts.
One of my favorite cleat chasing moments came when I worked in for a minor league team in 2008. There was certain female intern that made it known she had a thing for one of the players. This guy she was into wasn’t your typical second baseman, but rather a legit athletic freak of nature. 6’6”, 250 and totally chiseled black dude. This certain intern could not of been more than 100 pounds so even at a distance the possible pair was a funny thought. After a few brief dates (I always asked her what their deal was) she sealed the deal. A week or so after the deed was done this player got the call he was moving up in the organization. As it is custom at this particular team, an intern is assigned to take said player to their new destination in a team truck. Our eager intern gladly jumped at the chance to ferry the ballplayer to his next ballpark. Before she left I gave her a bat I wanted signed by him (of course I got his autograph, I’m a total fanboy) and told her jokingly to do whatever it took for him to sign it. Intern loads up the truck with prime prospect and they depart. 6 hours later she returns (it’s a 4 hour round trip) and seemingly has changed clothes during the trip and is now sporting a turtle neck. It being July, I had to inquire why the hell she thought a long sleeve turtle neck was some sort of good choice. She pulled down the neck and showed me what was the biggest and gnarliest hickey I had ever seen (she also handed me the signed bat, stoked!). She wore that nasty neck raspberry for the next week. Cleat Chasers win, ballgame over.
What these girls (TUUOBBB) are dealing with is the mis-conception that any girl that works in sports is there solely so she can get closer to the players and if all goes well sleep with one, or maybe an entire bullpen. While there are a number of girls who have and do practice this not so subtle maneuver of courtship they ultimately set all the other girls working around them back by objectifying themselves. Imagine everyone thought you were working in insurance because you thought policy writers were hot.
