A League of Their Own
A backyard pastime gets a makeover as the North Shore goes nuts for a hypercompetitive Wiffle ball league.
- Golden Stick Whiffle League commissioner Lou Levesque. Photo by Christopher Churchill.
Wiffle ball, that child’s game of yellow bats and plastic balls, has lately fallen into the grown-up hands of organized fanatics. And among the spattering of pseudo-serious Wiffle circuits that have cropped up nationwide, none can compete with the Danvers-based Golden Stick Wiffle League. “This is the sickest league in the country,” says Lou Levesque, the commissioner, who cofounded the association four seasons ago. With 26 teams and 120 players, the growing GSWL has touched off a devotion to a backyard hobby that Levesque admits they all might be taking “way too far.”
What Levesque and cofounder Mark Spellman invented is something akin to a flesh-and-blood version of fantasy baseball. Franchise owners orchestrate trades and sign free agents, some of whom come from as far away as Rhode Island. Players track stats online, wear fancy jerseys, and read about themselves each week in a Web magazine called Holes Up. At the end of this season, the winners in the league’s three divisions will take home a total of $10,000.
All this could be dismissed as a bit goofy were it not for the athletic ability on display. The Golden Stick game is a fast-pitch blur of finesse, where the best hurlers can toss the holey ball at speeds reaching more than 80 mph. With the mound just 50 feet from home, that creates the feel of a major league fastball—except that in this case, owing to its design, the ball can swoop in on the batter from a welter of angles. Equally impressive is the fact that hitters can get a hold of the thing, launching home runs over fences 90 feet away. (The puny banana-colored tubes you swung as a kid aren’t of much use to hitters, who prefer bats made from hard plastic or fiberglass.)
Levesque, a financial adviser by day, sees the potential to expand his adult Wiffle ball movement. He hopes to build a stadium on the North Shore with bleachers and lights, and he wants to sign up new players. Maybe he can interest David Wells in tossing the squirrelly Wiffle ball—that is, if the big fella can handle the pressure.
What Levesque and cofounder Mark Spellman invented is something akin to a flesh-and-blood version of fantasy baseball. Franchise owners orchestrate trades and sign free agents, some of whom come from as far away as Rhode Island. Players track stats online, wear fancy jerseys, and read about themselves each week in a Web magazine called Holes Up. At the end of this season, the winners in the league’s three divisions will take home a total of $10,000.
All this could be dismissed as a bit goofy were it not for the athletic ability on display. The Golden Stick game is a fast-pitch blur of finesse, where the best hurlers can toss the holey ball at speeds reaching more than 80 mph. With the mound just 50 feet from home, that creates the feel of a major league fastball—except that in this case, owing to its design, the ball can swoop in on the batter from a welter of angles. Equally impressive is the fact that hitters can get a hold of the thing, launching home runs over fences 90 feet away. (The puny banana-colored tubes you swung as a kid aren’t of much use to hitters, who prefer bats made from hard plastic or fiberglass.)
Levesque, a financial adviser by day, sees the potential to expand his adult Wiffle ball movement. He hopes to build a stadium on the North Shore with bleachers and lights, and he wants to sign up new players. Maybe he can interest David Wells in tossing the squirrelly Wiffle ball—that is, if the big fella can handle the pressure.
Originally published in Boston magazine, August 2006
