By Timothy T. Tater
Let us all take a moment to bow our heads in solemn gratitude that the infamous Karen Ballsnatcher ball, menace who turned Marlins Park into her personal scream and thievery playground—has not cast her covetous gaze upon our beloved home teams.
Truly, we are blessed. While Phillies fans watch helplessly as this mysterious figure swoops down like a seagull on a dropped cheesesteak, taking home run balls meant for innocent children and elderly grandmothers alike, the rest of us can sleep soundly knowing our stadiums remain relatively ball-secure.
Imagine the horror if this human vacuum cleaner of horsehide had tickets to your ballpark. Picture arriving at the game with your kid’s brand-new glove, only to witness this apex predator of America’s pastime materializing from the shadows to snatch away what would have been little Timmy Junior’s first souvenir. This woman doesn’t just cry foul when someone beats her to a ball—she makes a Bob Knight tantrum look tame. She even let one of her birds loose to the boos of all of South Florida!
Other fan bases look upon Philadelphia with a mixture of pity and morbid fascination now, the way one might observe a nature documentary about a particularly ruthless apex predator. “Look how she positioned herself,” we whisper. “Notice the calculation in her movements.” That poor dad didn’t have any idea that he was about to be accosted with four-letter words and accusations that only modern day America would let slide.
We should count our blessings that this ball-hoarding savant has apparently gone off into the abyss of society and for everyone’s sake, let’s hope she doesn’t come to the ballpark again. It’s not the first time, or certainly the last that one person believes that their destiny is to single-handedly corner the market on game-used baseballs. Heck, Major League Baseball even banned an internet sensation because he was doing similar antics…well, not really. He was showing up at parks and understanding the game to a level that he knew where to best position himself for balls to leave the yard. Irritating, yes…like a pitch just off the plate though? Nah, not even close.
So tonight, as you tuck your kids into bed with their modest collection of one or two foul balls caught over a lifetime of baseball attendance, whisper thanks that the Phillies Ball Goblin has chosen to haunt someone else’s ballpark.
After all, some heroes don’t wear capes. Some carry really, really sharpe tounges and pointy fingers to root on their Phightin’ Phils.
