Chapter Fourteen: Disaster-Rama

Maddie offered Tillie a high five, but her intern didn't respond.

“I’m not a high-fiver,” she stated bluntly.

“You’re lucky it wasn’t a chest bump.”

Tillie backed away, shielding herself.

“I’m kidding! Don’t mind me. It’s just—things are going well. Tonight’s promotion is definitely another one for the win column. Our second ‘Bark at the Park’ event is even bigger than Opening Day!” Maddie bent down and re-tied her new Keds. She had already gone through several pairs of sneakers this season. She was on her feet so much that she ran through tennis shoes faster than ballerinas went through toe shoes.

“So far, Boss.” Tillie sniffed and glanced at the scoreboard. “But we haven’t gotten to the end yet. As soon as the Manders find a way to lose the game in the ninth, the owners and their dogs will have a chance to run the bases and tear up the field.”

“Pfft, it’ll be fine. We have to recognize our victories. This is only our third homestand, and we’ve already tripled last year’s average attendance. That’s a huge accomplishment."

Maddie surveyed the field just in time to see a bungled double play that let the Montgomery Biscuits take the lead.

“Called it!” Tillie crowed.

“You did. Aw, man! Our guys have more talent than this. But we’re in this death spiral. No one has any confidence. If we just focused more on fundamentals and put the players in a position to succeed—”

“Whoa, Maddie. Not your job. I don’t think you can handle publicity, promotions, doing Rory’s job—”

“I don’t!”

Tillie lowered her sunglasses and glared.

“OK, I do.”

“As I was saying, you can’t be the PR director, general manager AND manage the team. Even your hamster-on-a-wheel personality can’t do all that.”

“I know. And I don’t believe in crowding the manager from the front office even though that happens a lot more these days. But if this is your mildly insulting way of telling me to set boundaries, thank you. I’ll consider it.”

In the bottom of the ninth inning, Alonzo Garcia, once a dangerous, power hitter, whiffed on a third strike to end the game. Another loss for the Salamanders.

Russell Wilde made an announcement reminding dog owners to meet by home plate if they wanted to run the bases. Maddie handled the field access and felt a rush of pride. More than a hundred people had lined up, and many of them wore Salamander shirts or baseball caps. Sweetgum was starting to show a glimmer of interest in the hometown team again, despite the losses. People liked coming to the ballpark, and that was different from last season.

Esme brought Sosa and Sandberg, wearing their capes and crowns, and Maddie helped her get the dogs to a small platform to greet their canine subjects.

“Crap game, fab event!” Esme said cheerily. Sosa and Sandberg barked in agreement and Esme fed them treats.

“Let the base running begin!” shouted Russell, and Led Zeppelin's “Black Dog” blasted over the speakers. Maddie signaled to her aunt. Esme started running at an easy trot. Sosa and Sandberg ran beside her with big doggy grins on their faces. When they reached second base, Maddie waved the next runner and dog forward. A skinny girl and her chubby pug set off, waving in excitement to their family in the stands.

Tillie snapped pictures to post live on the Manders’ Instagram account. Some of the dogs didn’t care about running. Instead they rolled over and scratched their backs in the grass. Some owners meandered, others acted like they were in a race. A few dogs came to a dead stop and had to be carried to home plate. But the mood remained jovial and Maddie worked the crowd, chatting with everyone, meeting their dogs, and lamenting the latest Manders’ disappointment.

About half the dogs and owners had finished and nothing had gone wrong. Maddie quietly gave thanks to the baseball gods. But she spoke too soon. The next person at home plate was George Peebles, father of Mary Ann. He had a suspicious glint in his eye and a rather smug-looking Labradoodle at the end of a hand-tooled leather leash.

“Great to see you, Mr. Peebles!’ Maddie said. “Thanks for coming tonight! You and— Who’s this sweet girl?”

“Guinivere,” he said.

“Of course. You and Guinivere can—”

He took off before she gave the official sign. He started in a slow jog and very pointedly reached down and unhooked his dog’s leash.

“No!” Maddie ran toward him. “Dogs must be leashed! The waiver said so!” George shot her a look that was even more smug than Guinivere’s. “My dog is impeccably trained. She always listens to my commands.”

Guinevere chose that moment to take off like a missile after a squirrel in left field.

“Guinivere! Get back here!” George waved, stomped, and whistled. Guinevere ran in circles barking sharply, oblivious to her owner’s contortions.

Once Guinivere broke free, Sosa and Sandberg pulled so hard on their leashes that Esme fell down face-first and let go of the beagles. Baying wildly, the hounds rushed to Guinivere’s aid.

That was the tipping point. The entire promotion went haywire. Dozens of dogs pulled free. A few owners defiantly unleashed their dogs. One teenage boy got pulled like a wagon by his Rottweiler. The stadium was a mess of dogs barking, people chasing dogs and yelling, dogs and people crashing into each other, one man pratfalling over a Chihuahua. It was canine chaos. Tillie kept on taking photos and posting them with funny captions.

Maddie, Theo, and his groundskeeping crew did their best to get the animals and humans under control, but it took the better part of an hour to clear the field. Maddie was a sweaty wreck, and Theo was not a happy camper.

“Damn, Maddie. This is gonna take a miracle to clean up for tomorrow’s game. No more animals on the field! This was like Disco Demolition Night, but with dogs.”

“Wait. You were at Disco Demolition Night?” Maddie asked. It was her hero Bill Veeck’s most infamous failed event where a crate of disco records was blown up at the ballpark, leading to a riot as thousands of fans stormed the field, causing the game to be forfeited.

“Don’t remind me. Or distract me,” Theo commanded. “I’m pissed at you.”

“All right, I’ll stay all night long and help you and the crew. But will you tell me about it? I’ve never met anyone who was actually there. Please?”

“I would give literally anything to end this conversation.”

Maddie raised her hands in surrender. “Fine, Theo. Another time then. But I will stay and help you.”

“Need me to stay, too?” Tillie jogged up beside Theo, and even she looked frazzled.

“Go home and get some sleep. No arguments,” Maddie answered wearily.

“Thanks, Boss. So maybe we won't put this one in the win column after all?”

“Jury’s still out. Disco Demolition night is legendary. Maybe this is—”

“A travesty that should never be repeated,” Theo blurted. “As was Disco Demolition.”

“OK, sure. I admit it. Just this once. I’ll take the loss. Tomorrow is another day. World’s Biggest Cotton Candy Day. That’s going in the win column for sure!”

***

“Does every event I do for you require an embarrassing costume?” Carlton asked. “I think that should have been clarified in advance. I plan to lodge a formal complaint.”

“Be my guest. I’m sure Rory will be really responsive.” Maddie straightened Carlton’s blue, sparkly bow tie and then twirled around in her poofy pink dress with attached fairy wings. She put on a pastel Salamanders baseball cap and admired their reflections in the mirror of the clubhouse dressing room. They looked picture perfect for giant cotton candy festivities at the ballpark.

“Since we know Rory’s response time, I promise to consider your protest very carefully,” Maddie continued, “and then totally ignore it, because you look gorgeous!”

“What do you even call this suit? I feel like that weather guy on Channel 13 who wears loud holiday blazers with giant elf shoes.” Carlton fidgeted with his ruffled shirt front.

“Jude Redfield! Thanks for reminding me. I want to get him out here for a weather promotion. He’s great, and he’s got a huge following on Tik Tok. I love it when he does the Disco Dance Forecast in his three-piece Saturday Night Fever suit.”

“Boy, are you easily amused.”

“Maybe, but you were born to wear a rainbow-pastel tux from the ‘70s. Esme really outdid herself on eBay to find this one in your size. You are a Cotton Candy Dandy.”

Carlton buttoned and then unbuttoned his jacket, looking decidedly uncomfortable in his outfit. “No, I’m like… World’s worst prom king.”

“Great! Because this is my ideal prom queen dress! Let's get a picture and preserve this precious moment in our friendship.”

Maddie leaned in close to Carlton and raised her phone to frame the two of them. She laughed out loud at the resulting image. His grimace and her glee were priceless next to each other. She had a fleeting fantasy of going to her Senior Prom with Carlton. She had never been interested in school dances. If she liked a boy, they usually went to a ball game instead, and they were both happier that way. But Carlton would have been fun.

If String Theory were true, she hoped there was a universe in which she and Carlton got to do all the things they couldn’t do in this universe. She had a mad urge to ask him to dance, but decided not to push her luck.

“Carlton Wilde, Grand Marshall of the Cotton Candy Day Parade, don’t forget your hat!” Maddie handed him an enormous top hat that had blue cotton candy completely covering it.

Carlton pitched the bridge of his nose under his glasses. “Do I have to?”

“Esme and I worked hours on that hat. I have the glue gun scars to prove it. Do you have any idea how hard it is to hot glue dissolving sugar? Come on! The pickle races worked. Admit it. Manders Matter got a lot of love for that. All kinds of publicity! Not only in Sweetgum, but the whole state. So why not this?”

“There was a precedent for pickle races. What’s the baseball connection to this?” Carlton argued.

“Well, duh. Cotton candy is a classic ballpark concession. And also, who cares? This is meant to be silly. It’s what I love about minor league baseball events. We can be completely absurd and ridiculous. I told you that I wanted to focus on getting kids to come out here and discover baseball. You’re a big draw in town. This is a warm-up before launching the new Manders Minions kids club. Besides, best friends do these crazy things together. Don’t they? We’ll have a big laugh about it one day when we’re old and gray.”

“I think my laugh will be high and slightly hysterical. I can’t help but feel like this friendship is a little lopsided at present.”

“Oh shit. You’re right. I’m sorry. You’re doing so much for me and the team, and I know you hate Monty. I want you to know—I appreciate you. Did that have the proper Ted Lasso inflection? It’s true from the bottom of my heart. What can I do for you?”

“Well, I didn’t mean to…” Carlton shifted his balance and brushed against Maddie’s bare arm. She felt that undeniable physical pull between them again. They both took a step back at the same time. “Just don’t kill yourself in this job,” he finished and put on the top hat.

Maddie curtseyed. “Your wish is my command, your Grand Marshall-ness. We better get going. The parade’s about to start.”

They made their way to an archway of multicolored balloons at the front of the stadium. Tillie was waiting, wearing her blue Lily Pulitzer dress with matching sandals and puffy headband. “I think we’re set,” she told Maddie. “Check it out! Cotton Candy Crew, get in position!”

At Tillie’s cue, the park’s cotton candy vendors lined up, each one wearing enormous, tower-like hats festooned with the wares they usually sold from a slotted tray.

“I see Esme’s hand in this, too,” said Carlton.

Maddie was entranced by the vendors. “You all look magnificent! This is going to be spectacular!”

The gates were opened and each child entering the ballpark was presented with a small cotton candy cloud of their own (upon parental approval) and invited to join the formation for the parade.

When the whole group was assembled, Maddie retrieved a silver whistle from beneath the bodice of her dress and blew a long, clear signal. The Sweetgum High School marching band emerged from the parking lot playing a warbly but enthusiastic rendition of “Candy Man” from the original Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.

Carlton and Maddie directed the parade down a ramp on the concourse with access to the field. The band marched ahead and the rest of the group followed, staying on the outer perimeter of the field to keep the baseball diamond intact. Next, the band struck up the golden oldie “Sugar, Sugar” by the Archies, and Maddie herded everyone through an outfield gate and across a bedraggled lawn that stretched back toward the main stadium.

At the end of the lawn was a wide patio covered by a slanted roof. An old-fashioned carousel that had seen better days created a sad centerpiece for the area, but kids still liked to climb on it and sit on the horses. The ride still worked, but not consistently, so Rory had unplugged it. Maddie thought it could be beautiful again with a little paint and love. Oh, she had plans for this place. She wanted to turn it into a baseball-themed playground and picnic park. With enough volunteers and a couple of sponsors, she might be able to start work this season. Visions of Fourth of July festivals with a team that could win a game danced in her head.

Maddie blew her whistle again and the parade halted. The crowd gathered loosely around a tall, spangly curtain in rainbow colors next to the old merry-go-round.

“You know what to do,” Maddie whispered to Carlton. He nodded and headed over to a pull cord by the curtain. Everyone recognized him without an introduction and applauded until he held up his hands to ask for quiet.

“Hello, Manders Fans and Cotton Candy Enthusiasts. I’m thrilled to be here today. And without any further ceremony, I hereby declare this Cotton Candy Day for the Sliding Salamanders of Sweetgum! And now, what you’ve all been waiting for… Presenting the one and only World’s Biggest Cotton Candy!”

Carlton yanked the cord and the curtain fell with a satisfying swish to reveal a 30-foot swirly tower of pink, blue, and purple cotton candy suspended from a small crane. The fans and parade revelers gasped. Maddie did too, entirely caught up in the moment. She waved her hands in the air to cue the ballerinas. Her last surprise for the day.

A line of grade school-age dancers in pastel tutus surrounded the giant cloud of candy floss and began a spirited “Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies” to music from The Nutcracker played over the PA system.

The Jumbotron had shots of the dancers, and Maddie could hear shouts of “That’s my girl!” and “Look at Macy twirl!” even above the music playing.

Carlton skirted the dancers and hooked his arm lightly around Maddie’s. “OK, this is pretty cool. The kids are having a ball, and those ballerinas are crushing it. If only our team had their talent and coordination.”

“Thanks to Terry’s Twinkle Toes Dance Studio,” Maddie said. “Terry came up with the dance idea himself. He’s a character. Did you know he used to be a pro on Dancing with the Stars?”

“Duly impressed,” Carlton said. “Edna over at Grand Lunch loves that show.”

“Oh, me too! I’m so glad to hear that. Edna and I need to have a long talk. But now I better go check on Emmett. The actual Candy Man. Wish me luck, he’s a bit odd.”

Carlton grinned. “A man who makes giant cotton candy and has people sign contracts to have it visit them? Odd? I can’t believe it.”

Maddie punched Carlton’s arm. “Shh, he’s right over there!”

“And I’d wish you luck, but I don’t think you’ll need it.”

Maddie stood on tip toe and kissed his cheek. Acceptable behavior for friends, she thought. “Thanks! I’m going to think of nice things to do for you, too. Just wait!”

“You’re scaring me,” Carlton joked. “Go!”

Maddie released his arm and headed over to a man with a large, shiny forehead and a black satin jacket with an embroidered cotton candy on the back.

“Everything OK, Emmett?” she asked. “This is amazing. We’re truly honored to be a stop on your tour.”

“You should be!” Emmet looked decidedly sour for a man who made his living concocting extra large confections.

“Aren’t you pleased with the event? I think it’s going really well!”

“At the last place, they had the mayor and I got a certificate and a key to the city.”

“Oh. Well, we have a world premiere ballet in your honor!”

“Who in their right mind likes ballet?”

Maddie realized this was a no-win scenario conversation. “I apologize, Emmett. Next time I’ll get the mayor. Promise.”

“If there is a next time.”

Maddie shook his hand. “I’m glad you’re here.”

A loud rumble of thunder took Maddie by surprise. Rain had not been predicted. She was ready, though. Theo had secured a rolled-up tarp on the pavillon’s roof that could be lowered quickly to keep a sudden storm from blowing in on the cotton candy.

The ballet reached its finale. Dancers were wildly pirouetting and jete-ing around the mountain of spun sugar. Another blast of thunder boomed, and a branch of lightning split the sky and struck somewhere nearby. Maddie checked the sky for rain, ready to release the tarp if necessary. No downpour yet, but there was a power surge after the lighting strike. For reasons Maddie couldn’t imagine, the sprinkler system in the stadium turned itself on.

Everywhere in the ball park, small jets of water showered the fans with a steady drizzle. Maddie couldn’t stop it. Water pelted down on the dancers, the kids, the vendors and their tower-of-treats hats, and worst of all, the World’s Biggest Cotton Candy. It was all melting into a huge, slick, rainbow-colored goo all over the patio’s concrete floor.

And then to add to the surreality of the scene, the broken merry-go-round started to work again. Apparently, Rory couldn’t even unplug a merry-go-round without help. The horses and lights came to life and long-forgotten music played. Sort of.

“YAAAAAAAY!” screamed the kids who were watching the show from the stuck carousel. Maddie could hear the warped song from crackling speakers. It was Donna Summer singing “MacArthur Park”. The lyrics were cruelly ironic:

Someone left a cake out in the rain

I don’t think that I can take it

Cause it took so long to bake it

And I’ll never have that recipe again

Emmett ran up and grabbed Maddie’s shoulders. “This is a disaster! What are you going to do about it? My masterpiece is ruined!” He started to cry.

“Oh no. Please don’t, Emmett. It’s OK.” She patted his shoulder and tried to decide if she should offer a hug. She thought not.

“It’s not OK! It's my life's work! Gone! Poof!” He sank to his knees and sobbed.

Maddie bent down and put her arm around him. “It’s awful, I know. But you’re an artist, Emmett. You’ll bounce back. Think of your future. The world’s biggest cupcake. Or popcorn ball. Sometimes great art is, you know, ephemeral. And that makes it all the more beautiful.”

“You really think so?” Emmett wiped his face on his jacket sleeve.

“Definitely! Here’s a pass to the VIP suite. Get something to eat. Stay warm and dry, and I’ll meet you there later to file the insurance claim.”

Maddie got Emmett headed in the right direction and found Tillie filming the shambolic scene that surrounded them.

“Tillie! What are you doing? Stop that!”

“But the visuals are stunning. No one’s ever seen anything like this!”

“They don’t need to! I don't want another rubber duck debacle on my resume. Please circle the premises and look out for the kids. Make sure nobody tries to run or slide in the slime.”

“Too late! That’s some of my best footage. This is like a candy store acid trip.”

Maddie gave her the death stare.

“On it, Boss!” Tillie departed quickly.

Maddie realized this already was another duck debacle. Would the insurance cover Emmett’s loss to his satisfaction? She might lose her job again and get kicked out of baseball for good this time. Never mind about that, she thought. She had to clean this up and keep everyone safe. She got on her walkie-talkie and had security and maintenance shut down part of the concourse and start cleaning up. Next she contacted Theo to turn off the sprinklers. He said he was trying but nothing was working. She called Rory but he didn’t answer his phone.

Suddenly Carlton was at her side. His top hat decoration had melted into his hair and dribbled down his face. “What can I do? Want me to look at the merry-go-round? I’m pretty sure there’s a problem with the slip ring mechanism.”

Maddie stopped for a moment to stare at Carlton. “You know how to fix merry-go-rounds? How in the hell did you learn that?” Before Carlton could reply, she added, “Never mind. Yes. Please take care of that ASAP.”

As Carlton turned, Maddie grabbed his arm. “Thanks for your help. What a mess! Vinny and Herb are gonna have a field day on your podcast.”

“Yeah, probably. But so what? This isn’t your fault. Rory doesn’t take care of this ballpark. Monty doesn’t give him the money. The funky sprinkler system let you down.” He grinned and dabbed the blue goo on his face with his ruffled cuff. “Just think. This is the first ever rain out inside the stadium. We made baseball history today!”

“Yeah, I keep doing that in the worst ways! I have to stop.” Maddie gave him a quick hug. She felt better. She could get through this. “Thank you. So much! I love you.” She didn’t mean to say that, but she couldn’t take it back, and clearly her unconscious wanted to be heard.

He stared down at her, water and blue dye trickling down his cheeks. She couldn’t read his face, and she was afraid she had overstepped. But then he squeezed her waist and whispered close to her ear. “I love you, too, you unstoppable force of nature!”

He let her go and sped to the carousel. She was astonished by how quickly he shut down the ride and ran around talking to the kids and their families, making sure everyone was OK. Laughing and joking with the fans. Incredibly, everyone seemed to be having a pretty good time, making the best of the pastel meltdown that was happening.

Maddie tore herself away and went about the rest of her crazy job on that crazy day. Still in her big skirt and fairy wings, she stopped to console the distraught ballerinas and Terry whose world premiere was cut short. But the images of Carlton on the merry-go-round kept playing in her mind, and she knew that her accidental confession was the truth. She really did love that man in the melty cotton candy top hat and bad ‘70s prom tux.

BASEBALL INSPIRATION

The ultimate baseball promotion disaster was Disco Demolition Night, July 12, 1979, at a Chicago White Sox home game vs. the Detroit Tigers. Guess who the owner of the team was at that time? Yep, Bill Veeck. His son, Mike, was the mastermind of the ill-fated event. A Netflix documentary, The Saint of Second Chances, gives an excellent in-depth look at this weird chapter of baseball history and its fallout.

Learn more: Disco Demolition Night at Comiskey Park - Chicago History Museum