Everyone who has picked up a controller has one game that seems to speak only to him (or her). I'm no exception. I have a game like that. It's Earl Weaver Baseball, the computer baseball simulation/game produced by Electronic Arts back in the mid-80s. I played it on an Amiga 500, which was kind of the Ford Edsel of personal computers. I first layed eyes on the game in sixth grade, when I was bumming around on my friend Andy Lanier's Amiga. It was baseball. It was statistics. It was one klassic old-school ballpark after another. It was love at first sight. So when I got an Amiga of my own in eighth grade, I had to have EWB as well. On a hot day in the summer of 1989, I pestered my dad into driving down to Chuck's Computer Center in Massillon to buy the game.
Sources of Earl Weaver Baseball's Charm
- The four base umpires all have distinct "out" calls. The first-base ump simply barks, "Out!". The second base ump expands on it: "Outta there!". The home-plate ump is a little more elaborate: "Yer... outta there!", a shitty one to hear when you're trying to score from second on a single with two out, down a run in the ninth. I can't remember what the third-base ump sounded like.
Outstandingly rendered ballparks. To name a few:
"Old" Yankee Stadium "New" Yankee Stadium Fenway Park Dodger Stadium Royals Stadium (with artificial turf) Wrigley Field The Astrodome "Old" Comiskey Park Tiger Stadium Cleveland Municipal Stadium Ebbets Field Polo Grounds (real juicy when you could get a hit up in those loooong alleys) Shibe Park (home of the old Philadelphia A's) Griffith Stadium (home of the old Washington Senators) Baker Bowl (rickety old home of the Phillies) League Park Braves Field (home of the old Boston Braves) Sportsman's Park (St. Louis; shared by the Cardinals and Browns) Sicks Stadium (home of Jim Bouton's 1969 Seattle Pilots; a bandbox) Jarry Park (original home of the Montreal Expos; another bandbox) Seals Stadium (original home of the San Francisco Giants; a super bandbox) Something called "Homer Heaven", which I avoided like the plague.
- The PA announcer talked like Stephen Hawking
- Accumulated statistics, which meant you could play an entire season. You had to rest pitchers, too.
- You could create players, and you had to arrange the phonetics in their names so Stephen Hawking could pronounce them correctly. Otherwise he'd butcher them, and you couldn't have that. You could also create teams, and ballparks.
- You could fill in statistics and "skill" numbers for them (Babe Ruth has '10' power and '2' speed, for example). This is sixteen, seventeen years ago, long before you could do it for Madden Football.
- The graphics are a little crude, by today's standards. The gameplay was spectacular, however. And look at the screenshot. Doesn't Fenway look sensational?
The Real Source of Earl Weaver Baseball's Charm
It was almost impossible to beat the computer.He- I mean, it- would take seven out of ten on a rough average, and during some disastrous periods, he- I mean it- would take all ten. I had at least one ten-game losing streak, and probably more. The computer in this game did not fuck around in the least. If it wanted your pitcher to lose his control and start walking people left and right, well, that's what would happen. And he didn't have to be tired. Warren Spahn could be out there, and all of a sudden in the third inning he walks the bases loaded. Pinpoint control, huh? Fuck you. You could go out there and have a conference with your pitcher, and he'd say something like "Arm's fine, skip." (actual quote), and you could jerk the joystick as hard as you can, but it simply... didn't... matter. Your fate rested in the hands of the EarlWeaver computer. And no game computer has ever possessed the stone greed for victory as the Earl Weaver computer.
Game after game I played, and game after game I lost. I lost blowouts. I lost heartbreakers. I lost 11-9 slugfests. I lost 2-1 pitcher's duels. I lost games where it was tied going into the ninth and the computer scored eight runs. One time I took a 6-2 lead into the ninth inning against the computer. I gave up a leadoff homer, walked the bases loaded, and coughed up a grand slam to lose 7-6, all without retiring a single batter. I won every now and again. But like "Canada" Bill Jones says about poker, all I remembered were my outstanding bad beats. And there were a whole lot of them.
I Can Smell the Cracker Jack!
I took the losses hard. I had used the expression, "The computer is ripping me off!" ever since we first got an Atari 2600 back in the day, but it was my EWB experience that turned this phrase into something that would fit rather well on my tombstone. I beat my Amiga's keyboard so hard and so often in rage that it eventually changed shape. Every dyfunction I possess- my bad temper, my habit of destroying my own valuable property, my penchant for sickening self-pity, my persecution complex- came right straight the f--k out when I played. And I kept playing. I had to keep playing.
EWB made me lose my perspective on life. The fall I was supposed to start college I had a bout with cancer (I'm not going to say what type of cancer, but I'll give ya a hint; it left me half the man I used to be). In the mornings I would head to the oncology center at Akron General Medical Center for chemo treatments. I was the picture of good coping skills during these sessions, joking with the nurses as they shot me full of Lasix and Alpha Pheta Protein and all sorts of other poisons that made every hair on my body (and I mean every hair) fall out. I was bald, sick and scarred, I wasn't 100% sure I'd live to see my legal drinking age, but I took it quite well. I was the youngest person in the cancer ward, and also the best-looking. At one point an old lady who was visiting a friend in the ward told me that she would pray for me. I waved a hand. "Don't worry about it," I said coolly.
Then I would get home from chemo, go upstairs, and play Earl Weaver Baseball. Within an hour I would be standing in the doorway of my room, opening the door as hard as I could against my forehead.
At one point, I thought I had a fool-proof plan to get the game's measure. Armed with a copy of Total Baseball, I re-created the American League from 1953- all eight teams, with complete rosters, playing in their home stadiums. I scheduled a 154-game season, using the New York Yankees as my team. The Yankees won 99 games in '53 and took their fifth straight AL pennant and World Championship. They had Mantle, Berra, Bauer, Whitey Ford, Eddie Lopat, Allie Reynolds. They ruled baseball with an iron fist. Figured the '53 Yanks would redress the game's natural imbalance.
Figured wrong. The losses came early and often. At the 94-game mark I was 35-59. At the beginning of the "season" I had actually hoped for a winning record. That had gone by the boards fairly quickly. If I could just go 20-40 down the stretch, I could avoid 100 losses, and that would be good enough. I figured playing .333 ball with one of the greatest teams of all time could happen. But it didn't happen. I went 12-48 (.200). I wound up with a record of 47-107. That's fifty-three-and-a-half games off the real '53 Yankees' pace. Mickey Mantle hit .218. Yogi Berra was dreadful (although he did beat the White Sox with a two-run homer in the ninth in one game). I couldn't hit home runs, even into the "short porch" at old Yankee Stadium. Eddie Lopat went 4-23. The only pitcher who won double-figure games for me was Vic Raschi (12-12). Had I been the St. Louis Browns, I might not have won a single game.
Several years later, feeling a bit wiser and more in control of myself, I gave the full season another go. There was a complication. I no longer had my Amiga. So I went on Ebay and bought one off a guy in Painesville, who just so happened to have a copy of EWB to go along with it. Whoda thunk it?
A few days later the computer arrived. It was sitting there by the front door in a big ole' box, just waiting for me when I got home from work. What a great day! I dragged the Amiga into my room and set it up. I already had my PC in there, on which I did my normal work (writing, downloading music, and masturbating, mostly). Cables covered the floor. Between the two computers, the TV, the lamp, and the two fans I had going full blast at all times, I was probably expending more electricity in that broom closet-sized room than every African country between the Sahara and the Kalahari. I'm surprised the DEA never raided the house.
For my new team, I picked the 1935 Chicago Cubs. Winners of 100 games, owners of an NL-record 21-game winning streak down the stretch, the Cubbies seemed to be a relatively safe choice. 1935 was somewhat of a down year for hitting in the National League, which meant I wouldn't get my pitching staff too badly ravaged by opposing teams' wallbangers. Plus I was "sick with" the American League, and wanted to give the Senior Circuit a test-drive. There were all sorts of cool ballparks I wanted to experience- Ebbets Field, the Baker Bowl in Philly, especially the Polo Grounds (257 feet to right field; 483 to dead center). So back to Total Baseball I went. Working with a frantic fury, I completed the rosters and statistics for eight teams and approximately two hundred players within a day. I made up the schedule, and off I went.
This time I didn't expect to go .500. Or .400, for that matter. But I surprised myself early on, when I got off to a (relatively) sterling 12-12 start. Then the bottom dropped out. I dove into a 4-16 stretch to fall to 16-28. The old problems were cropping up. I wasn't hitting. My cleanup man, Hall-of-Famer Chuck Klein, was in the throes of a season-long slump. My power numbers were non-existent. I couldn't find a stopper in the rotation. And I couldn't beat the "Gashouse Gang" Cardinals, Chicago's number-one league rival way back in that Depression summer. The Jesse-led Cubs limped to a 4-18 record against Dizzy Dean, Ducky Medwick, and the rest of St. Louis's powerhouse.
Chuck Klein Pissed Up a Rope
I gamely soldiered on. I played winning ball against the Phillies and Boston Braves, the dregs of that season. My pitching stayed fairly solid. There were an abundance of big ballparks in the NL at the time- Braves Field, Crosley Field in Cincinnati, Forbes Field in Pittsburgh, plus the spacious-in-spots Polo Grounds- and that helped me out a bit. With four games remaining I was 67-83- a substantial improvement over my '53 Yankees nightmare. In true EWB fashion, I lost all four, at home to the Reds, and finished exactly 20 games under .500. Que sera sera.
The final numbers were typical. Hall-of-Famer Chuck Klein, who I kept stubbornly placing in the cleanup spot game after game, hit .204, eleven points below the Mendoza Line. He did lead my team in home runs (18) and RBI, with a rootin-tootin 74. Billy Herman, another Cub HOF'er, had a great season hitting leadoff, stealing a record 98 bases (stealing bases was the only thing I could do well in EWB, and that was because I cheated; I could eavesdrop on the computer's "manager" mode and figure out when he was going to pitch out). . My pitchers ranged from mediocre (Lon Warneke, fireman Charlie Root) to bad (Bill Lee, who lost 18 games). It was better than the fiasco of the '53 Yankees. But I had taken a pennant-winning team, done the best I possibly could have done, and I was still 67-87. I took it rather well. I didn't engage in any self-mutilation, at any rate.
That new Amiga is gone. I jacked it up during one of my moves. But I am sitting here looking at the box for Earl Weaver Baseball, right as I speak. And I just found my copy of the game, among the dusty stack of Amiga program disks I've been carrying around for the last five years (it was wedged between Deluxe Paint and a pirated copy of Zac McCracken and the Alien Mindbenders). Hmm. I don't have a girlfriend. Nobody would miss me if I didn't came out of my room for six months. And I am very curious as to how I could fare playing a season with the 1929 Philadelphia Athletics. I know I'd have at least some semblance of offense, even if Jimmy Foxx goes tits-up on me. I would have Lefty Grove and George Earnshaw heading up my rotation. Ebay is just a few keyboard strokes away. I'd wager someone out there has an Amiga 500 they're selling, because they don't know its true purpose. Yeah, I might have to give it another go. I think now I'm actually mature enough to handle the losing, too.
Jim Jenson Posted: 1/20/2006by: Jack Trudeau Fact: I have spent more time playing Techmo Bowl than anything else I have ever done in my life.
Jim "Crash" Jenson was my favorite player in Techmo, and Dan Marino could find him 95 yards down the field. Best backup TE in history.
This thread has made me want to host a Tourney. NHL '96 for genesis Posted: 8/7/2005by: Pat greatest game of all time. EWBII Posted: 5/19/2005by: Stokes EWBII for the PC rocked! I set up multiple leagues with other kids in the area, and we would play series, make trades, build teams, have playoffs. I always picked last, and would wind up with a team with all pitching and lots of speed. We usually "played" one game of the series, and let the computer simulate the rest of the series. It was awesome. Omni-Play Basketball Posted: 5/19/2005by: Sean Came out around 1988-89, and was totally off the hook! Later became Magic Johnson MVP basketball. Could play or coach, kept career stats for players and teams, team records for multiple seasons. Loved this game. Similar computer game Posted: 5/19/2005by: Tony2Baseball It sounds a lot like Tony LaRussa Baseball II (not the version with the '94 stats). There's three different default leagues it comes with - Negro League, Classic (a compilation of all the best players on each team...the Yankees own that league) and 0168 (don't know why they call it 0168, but this is a collection of some of the most dominant teams of all time; ie, 1927 Yankees). You can also edit player stats or create your own league. I made one with all the best players on each team from 1998 to present (that way I could include the DRays and DBacks). The only drawback is that there's a few glitches that can make winning games easier - I usually don't exploit them...sometimes it's difficult not to when it's close in the 9th inning and I have a speedy lefty that bunts well at the plate...
Your story reminds me of mine with this game. I played it when I was something like 12 years old. Years later, bored at college, I bought it off ebay and am currently addicted to it again. The simulations are great too - something that's hard to find with the newer baseball games. Tecmo Posted: 5/14/2005by: Hotbone Now that we're way off track, I'm inclined to bring up another of the greatest console games of all time: Sega Hockey (circa 1994-1995). The version made famous by Swingers (is he brown Mikey? Is he cute?) had the ability to make an opposing player hit the ice and squirm while spurting blood after a big hit. Mario Lemiuex was absolutely unstoppable. You could scoop up the puck behind your net with ole 66 and go coast-to-coast while shucking a head-on check from every opposing player before wristing a shot through the 5 hole. But the franchise hit its absolute peak when it introduced two elements: the one-timer and control-your-own-goalie. The goalie control was crucial when playing against friends who had mastered the cheap goal you could score by skating straight into the enemy's goalpost while cradling the puck back and forth on your stick. All one had to do to counter this previously unstoppable move was press and hold B and charge headfirst like a motherfucker into the oncoming breakaway. And the one-timer? Perhaps the sweetest, most stylish addition to any sports game ever. It fundamentally changed the way in which you attacked the opponent's net, and a goal scored on a one-timer was as sweet as honey from the hive. Throw in manual line changes and "Stars of the Game" and you have what may well be the perfect video game. And strangely enough, I think real hockey is for fags. EWB II Posted: 5/13/2005by: Keith Myath How strange, I had a similar obsession with EWB II. I had no idea anyone else had ever played that game. Techmo` Posted: 5/13/2005by: Jus LT was also able to sack almost anyone. By far the fastest player Super Techmo Bowl. If you had the Giants and you weren't controlling LT on defense you were an idiot. Techmo Bowl Posted: 5/13/2005by: Hotbone Jus, you're preaching to the choir. Tecmo was, without a doubt, the finest football game ever. In addition to the Funk, you could always count on Bo Jackson's Raiders. 2 running plays. Sweep left (high) or sweep right (low). I can still hear my buddy at the snap, "BO SHOW DOWN LOW!" and watching helplessly as Jackson bulldozed his way in for another score.
As a side note, why the hell is Tecmo Bowl the only missing Ninetendo game from www.everyvideogame.com? They have some weaker early and later versions, but not the masterpiece. Letter writing campaign, peaceful protest, organized boycott or full-scale riot? Rerun, Rog, and Dwayne Wayne Posted: 5/13/2005by: Hotbone Jesse, as far as I'm concerned, you can do no wrong. Re-run 'em all as you see fit. My favorite was Nintendo's RBI Baseball. My junior year of high school, my friends and I pooled money and drew two teams each out of a hat. We wound up playing like a 60 game season, and I smoked the competition with Mike Scott and the Astros. He had a double curve pitch that was unhittable. Also, you could do the base-running glitch that JR was talking about to pick off CP runners. Good times.
