A poignant memoir exploring small town baseball as a lens into what’s right and wrong with modern America—written by an acclaimed journalist and Army Ranger who, after returning from Iraq to a painfully divided country, rediscovered its core values in the bleachers of a minor league ballpark in Batavia, New York.
"Bardenwerper finds hope in the people and community around a former minor league baseball team.”—Washington Post
"Will reveal more about the prospects for America than 100 news stories about politics, and will be a lot more fun.”—James Fallows, bestselling co-author of Our A 100,000-Mile Journey into the Heart of America
What happens when a minor league team—the heart and soul of a Rust Belt town in western New York—is shut down by the billionaires who run Major League Baseball?
Batavia, New York—between Rochester and Buffalo—hosted its first professional baseball game in 1897. Despite decades of deindustrialization and evaporating middle-class jobs, the Batavia Muckdogs endured. When Major League Baseball cravenly shut them down in 2020—along with forty-one other minor league teams—the town fought back, reviving the Muckdogs as a summer league team comprised of college players. As MLB considers further cuts and private equity buys up what remains, the mom-and-pop operations once prevalent in baseball are endangered. But for now, the sights and sounds of local baseball live on in Batavia—cheap draft beer and hot dogs, starry-eyed kids seeking autographs, and breathtaking summer sunsets.
With a vibrant, unforgettable cast of characters—from a librarian and her best friend whose relationship deepens with every “crepuscular hour” they spend together in the bleachers, to the former hockey brawler-turned team owner who greets regulars while working the concession stand, to the iconoclastic writer with a contagious love for his struggling hometown—Bardenwerper’s Homestand exposes the beating heart of small town America, friends and neighbors coming together as the crack of the bat echoes in the summer twilight.
Will quit his job in finance following the 9/11 attacks in Manhattan and volunteered to serve in the United States Army. He has spent most of the last decade engaged in United States foreign policy, beginning in 2004 as an infantry platoon leader. After completing his Army service, Will worked in the Washington Bureau of The New York Times.
In 2010, Will received a Master's Degree from The Johns Hopkins University School of Advanced International Studies. Upon graduation, he was selected to join the Pentagon in 2010 as a Presidential Management Fellow, where he spent the next four years working on the development and implementation of defense strategy with senior leaders in the Office of the Secretary of Defense.
Will was an Airborne Ranger qualified infantry officer in the United States Army. He was stationed in Germany and his service included a 13-month deployment to Nineveh and Anbar Provinces, Iraq in 2006-7. While in Iraq, he helped lead his infantry battalion's reconstruction, civil affairs and tribal engagement efforts in the city of Hit. His unit helped contribute to the beginning of what would later become known as the “Anbar Awakening.” Will was awarded a Bronze Star and a Combat Infantryman’s Badge.
Will is a graduate of Princeton University, where he majored in English. He has had Op Eds and other articles published in the New York Times, Washington Post, Harper's, and Newsweek.
In his free time, Will enjoys tough Crossfit workouts, playing ice hockey, and rooting for the New York Mets and Washington Capitals.
Will lives outside Pittsburgh with his wife and young son and daughter.
Absolutely fantastic book!! Author Will Bardenwerper takes us on a journey to the Rust Belt, specifically Batavia, NY and gives us a book that is part baseball, part sociology, part localist and part nostalgia. He is there to document how one small city in upstate New York is dealing with the loss of their Minor League team, the Batavia Muckdogs, when Major League Baseball contracted the minor leagues from 162 teams to 120 and left small towns without a huge part of their culture. The Muckdogs are now part of a college summer league with the players actually paying to be on the team! We meet the owner, manager, coach, staff, fans and host of others as we see how the Muckdogs are truly a part of their community even though they only play for about 6 weeks in the summer. Baseball leaving Batavia and these other small cities, mirrors how businesses and industry have also left the area which left from thriving to almost dying. He also points out how MLB's loss of popularity is closely related to NASCAR's loss of popularity when they left their roots behind and lost so many loyal fans. The folks in Batavia love the Muckdogs and almost nobody follows MLB any longer for a multitude of reasons. A great read, filled with people you quickly grow attached to, and one that you will not put down until the last outs are recorded in the Muckdogs 2023 season!!
The premise of this book was a noble one, and I agree with the author’s basic premise that greedy MLB owners and other big business hurting minor league baseball is bad for America in general. I didn’t even hate the book per se, but there were a few things about it that really bugged me.
The most glaring thing is that Bardenwerper has this compulsion to bend over backwards to “both sides” things that really don’t need to be “both sides.” For example, he talks about how the area this team is located in is very MAGA and pretty conservative overall. That’s fine, there are plenty of ways to write about people in these areas with sympathy and grace. But then, later in the book he is talking about Buffalo. One of the fans of the Muckdogs lives in a more liberal area. Here’s what he has to say about the neighborhood, which is, as he says full of rainbow and BLM signs and flags.
“‘Hate Has No Home Here’ signs were less convincing after seeing, too often, such tolerance being by extended only to those who shared the owners convictions, while on the other side, ‘Fuck Biden’ and ‘Let’s Go Brandon’ signs were even more obvious symbols of societal corrosion.”
Really? We’re gonna do this? I honestly can’t figure out why he even included this in the book. It seems unnecessary, but too often the author adds these little asides like this—maybe as a way to prove he’s not just some liberal dude parachuting into a small town, but he also tends to not really criticize the town or the believes of MAGA people in the town at all. (Like he never comments on the irony that the people there are voting against their own self interest, etc.)
Aside from that, he’s constantly railing about advanced stats and analytics. I kinda get the argument but the way he does it comes across as an old fogey. He also really doesn’t seem to be very pro labor when it comes to actual MLB players, he’s constantly complaining about high player salaries and how normal fans are disconnected from the players. Which is just sort of a garden variety and boring complaint.
I suppose I would have expected more, so it just kinda sours me on his whole deal, because while I am sympathetic to a lot of the issues he is raising here, and I even agree with him about a bulk of them, the way he approaches the answers to these big questions doesn’t really add up for me.
TLDR: it was ok, but I’m not sure id recommend unless your name is Sam Edwards.
I bought this book on a whim while on vacation. Reading only the cover jacket, I knew the book would discuss preserving a local community in the face of large corporations (in this case, the MLB) making business decisions effecting unknown numbers of ordinary people. But I didn’t realize that this theme would overshadow the actual baseball in many chapters. While I agree with the author’s point of view, it was tedious how often he would explicitly make a point about localism. The author describes feeling profoundly peaceful at the baseball games, but when describing the games in this book it seems like he always has a point to make about small business, or our country’s political divide, or the devastating effects of late-stage-capitalism. The best chapters were the playoffs, because the action of the game took more center stage.
Will Bardenwerper writes about baseball and the spirit of a community in the face of Major League Baseball reducing the number of minor league teams by 1/4 including full leagues such as the Pioneer and Appalachian Leagues as well as the New York-Penn League, which was home to the Batavia Muckdogs.
The book is meant to show how the community came together after the dissolution of the New York-Penn League and rallied around a new college summer league team.
This is a very well-written book that conveys a strong sense of community among the towns people of Batavia, especially the game day staff and season ticket holders of the Muckdogs.
Anyone who follows Minor League Baseball knows Batavia was the financial basket case of the 160 teams. The community-controlled team had $200,000 in debt in 2007. Baseball could not find anyone to buy the team. The Triple-A Rochester Red Wings agreed to take over team and assume the debt in exchange for future profits that never came.
There was a deal in 2016 to move the team from Batavia to Waldorf, Maryland which fell apart. Rochester handed the team over to the League which ran the team the last few years of its affiliated existence.
I understand celebrating and romanticizing what was lost – I do that too – but Batavia was destined to lose affiliated baseball regardless of the number of teams MLB chose to keep. Bardenwerper is trying to get Batavia to represent more than it does and that he does not mention the financial realities of the prior, major league affiliated team is intentional and dishonest.
Bardenwerper brings up minor league contraction too many times - we get the point - blaming it on greedy major league owners. I am a huge fan of minor league baseball, have been for more than forty years and I agree the majors were short-sighted in their thinking when they chose in 2021 to reduce the number of teams from 160 to 120.
And, like Bardenwerper, I tremble for the game when I reflect that more than 1/3 of the remaining minor league teams are owned by one private equity firm - Diamond Baseball Holdings or DBH.
However, some of his comments on the economics of the game fall flat. He quotes a former minor league owner decrying DBH buying up teams. The owner says once Capitalism comes in the game you can never get it out.
Which leads to the question of how that owner ran his team. Did he charge admission, charge for concessions and souvenirs? And if so was that Captialism?
There is a large focus on the relatively small amount of money it cost major league teams to support a short-season A team. But the college summer league teams, such as the new Muckdogs, charge players to be on the team and have several staff, including a very dedicated broadcaster, whom they pay nothing.
Bardenwerper notes these facts but solely comments that the owner is parsimonious.
Too much of the book focuses on economics and finance without noting that the difference between a PE firm owing 43 minor league teams and Robbie and Nellie Nichols owning the Batavia Muckdogs, Elmira Pioneers and Niagara Falls Americans is merely one of scale.
I got a little time to shelve books at this store the other week which is not a common occurrence. I happened to be in the sports section where I had 6 copies of this book and little room for them. Given my extra time displaying them around the store I became interested in the book and after getting home that night couldn’t stop thinking about it. I bought the audiobook that night and absolutely plowed through this.
Homestand is a sports book about baseball but what’s important is not the Muckdogs and their stellar season. We are asked by the author many questions that stem from a rise in efficiency culture and profit maximization that are destroying important spaces for local communities to exist and thrive.
Homestand centers around the Batavia Muckdogs a newly formed collegiate team that was formed after Major League Baseball dropped 40 minor league teams to include the team in Batavia. A question that is repeatedly addressed in the book that I feel like is important “if major league teams can pay players nearly 1 billion dollars why can’t they afford to sustain minor league franchises which cost nearly nothing against their bottom line and contribute so much to the game of baseball?”
The answer is simply that greedy owners don’t care as long as you keep paying for overpriced tickets, concessions and are degenerate gamblers allowing them to hoards excessive profits at the expense of a past time that is so much bigger than the game itself.
I hope this author gets to write another book which I would love to read.
Major League Baseball’s decision to shutter dozens of minor league teams in 2022 brought an end to decades of professional baseball in small towns across America. Homestand is Will Bardenwerper’s exploration of what this decision meant for those towns. It tells the story of one town’s attempt to keep baseball alive in the amateur leagues.
Homestand zooms in on the lives of some of the fans who attend the games and finds meaning in the routine, the community, and the simple act of getting together to watch some ball. Bardenwerper clearly formed deep connections with and sought to understand those he met. He depicts the meaning that baseball has for the Muckdog fans in a way that is powerful and memorable.
Bardenwerper is deeply critical of MLB’s growing distance from the minor leagues and the very roots of the game. The story however is more broadly about the meaning of community and the erosion of a shared civic life in towns across the US. It’s a celebration of sports ability to bring people together and highlights what is really lost when monetary value and real value don’t align. It’s also an invitation for us all to focus on what unites people rather than what divides them.
Homestand is ultimately hopeful, showing how people can find a way to come together and celebrate their passions without a corporate overlord. It might be harder, but it may ultimately be more worthwhile.
The author combines two of my personal favorites here: baseball and sociology. Specifically, how Major League Baseball greed has hollowed out the minor league system in communities across the country. (In the name of “efficiency,” MLB owners shutdown some 40 minor league teams a few years back.) It was essentially a line-item on a budget, but the impact on small town businesses, players and communities is massive. So, too, evaluation of baseball talent: how data analytics has trumped traditional scouting in determining a players worth. A computer can’t measure a player’s heart, or guile, or thinking. In Batavia, NY, a local couple resurrected the team with college players, vs professionals. He spends the season with the team, meets a ton of new friends and learns about Batavia - a quintessential hometown with beloved characters. Batavia could be any of our hometowns; it’s characters, the people who make us who we are. He writes about that in this book and it is pretty eye opening. Now, I bought the book at Barnes and Noble while on vacation in Scottsdale, where I lamented how corporate chains seem to be main dining, shopping and lodging attractions. I and am writing the review on Amazon’s app. I’m part of the problem.
As someone whose most cherished childhood memories revolved around visiting minor league ballparks during cross-country road trips, this book perfectly captures the timeless beauty of Americas pastime. A true underdog story (no pun intended), Bardenwerper’s book captures what makes the game, and its soul, so special.
I loved this book! The book resonated with me, as it talked about baseball in Elmira (my hometown) and Batavia (close to my current Finger Lakes location). I’ve attended many Elmira Pioneers games over the years, and as a season ticket holder for 3 years in the late 90s when it was part of the Independent League, I can attest to the camaraderie that develops among the regulars. I also equate crickets chirping with childhood baseball memories, in my case watching games with my Dad. I’ve never been to a Muckdogs game but I plan to change that! Also, when I was at Eli Fish a few years ago, I met a woman who was at the bar studying for a regional trivia match; based on the description in the book, I’m pretty sure it was Cathy Preston, though I never got her name. This book brought back memories for me and I also share in the author’s view that the minor league contraction was a real loss to fans.
The book I just completed reading was in my opinion was a very interesting memoir. It takes the reader into the world of minor league baseball. It shows how a town in Batavia New York lost a minor league team to cuts made by Major League Baseball and formed a college team that was financed by the local town’s people.
The author follows a minor league baseball team during the summer season and makes friends with the locals is the gist of this book. It gets repetitive as the book progresses. I get the authors point that the MLB is destroying small town baseball with the consolidation that is underway. He keeps repeating that.
Enjoyable almost anthropological exploration of small town life in America, with it’s foundation in minor league / college league baseball. Feels like an extended magazine article, and I got to wander the streets and ballpark of Batavia NY alongside the author. Kind of lost me with what felt were railing against data ruining baseball, when in many ways it is starting to force the small ball he claims to miss… I agree the greed of owners needs to be addressed, particularly in how it dries out the spirit and wins of small market teams (As, Pittsburgh, Twins…).
Both a love letter to minor/independent league and a scathing indictment of the increasing corporatization of MLB, Bardenwerper has written a stunning, touching testament to the power of baseball for baseball's sake.
Bardenwerper spends a season with Batavia, NY’s baseball team to get a sense of minor league baseball and small town America. The community at the ball park is special, maybe more so than the baseball team itself. Just scraping by, the owners do their best to keep things going. Batavia was part of MLB but MLB closed over 40 minor league teams so now Batavia fields college players. Bardenwerper is a good writer, able to convey what the fans are saying and seeing, and he’s a lover of baseball. He goes a little overboard on his critique of MLB as a corporate money machine. He’s correct but point taken. Otherwise, a really flowing book about an American institution trying to maintain what makes it special while time marches on.
I looooove minor league baseball and I loooove narrative nonfiction. Why did it take me so long (and feel like I had to force myself) to finish this book? I agree with most of the major premises of the book (MLB has gotten greedy and is hurting small communities by taking away minor league teams, scouting is more analytics-focused so the chances of a small star rising up to the big leagues is minimal, etc.) but it felt super repetitive and preachy. Appreciate the effort tho!
I was hoping for slightly more. A fun journey through baseball small-town America, but a bit too both-sidesy on politics and whiny about the state of the MLB. I agreed with the general sentiment that big money has taken some fun out of baseball (and crippled society at large), but I think there was a lot of room for nuance on the usage of data in the game.
Feelings of nostalgia. I felt like I was back in the small town where I grew up spending hours every summer with friends and family at the little league fields. It reminded me of driving to the minor league field on Sundays after church where we could get in free if we brought our church bulletin.
Feelings of frustration. I really enjoyed Bardenwerper's thoughts on baseball changing because of the overemphasis on analytics.
Feelings of appreciation. I love the community you find when you are a fan. I've met so many wonderful people while watching my local college baseball team over the years.
If you grew up a baseball fan, this book is (probably) for you.
Any errors in the quotes below are my own fault. I listened to the audiobook, so I attempted to transcribe to the best of my ability:
… in the eyes of many fans, like Batavia's Bill Kaufman, the embrace of analytics caused massive collateral damage to the appeal of the game. Kaufman would lament, “The bloodless analysts have done their best to squeeze the last drops of life from professional baseball, especially the majors, by purging the game of its human factor. They don’t understand that baseball's hold on the imaginations and emotions of fans is due to two things: stories and community. By eliminating or severely restricting managerial decisions, umpires’ calls, and with instant replay, and the coming robot umps, the resulting arguments and rhubarbs and hunches and gambles and bunts, they are removing the raw material of the stories that keep baseball alive across the seasons and the generations.” (Chapter 7)
…sports in which computers eventually are entrusted with just about every decision from which players to draft, how to evaluate and compensate them, all the way down to lineup choices and in-game strategy. Can we imagine managers disappearing altogether replaced by a dugout robot signaling the batter to bunt on the next pitch? Perhaps this would in fact be the most efficient and successful way to manage an organization, but it's hard not to see the game being diminished as it begins to resemble a chess board on which two deep blue supercomputers, the first computer to beat a world chess champion, square off. We've already seen the extent to which these quantitative models tend to produce similar outputs which serve to homogenize the game by elevating the same skills and strategies. Barry Powell noted how quickly organizational uniqueness can disappear. The days of Earl Weaver loving the long ball, the aggressiveness of Billy Ball, and St Louis embracing small ball with squeezes, and hit and runs, and steals, giving way to a more boring sport where power trumps just about everything and all teams begin to look the same. Near the end of his book Ayers [Super Crunchers: How Anything Can Be Predicted by Ian Ayers] succinctly articulates the essence of his philosophy, which I think one can safely say is shared by most of baseball's ruling class today. A broader quest for a life untouched by super crunching is both infeasible and ill advised. Instead of a Luddite rejection of this powerful new technology, it is better to become a knowledgeable participant in the revolution.” (Chapter 19)
Homestand follows the 2022 season of the Batavia Muckdogs. When Major League Baseball reorganize the minor leagues in 2020, Batavia was stripped of their minor league affiliated team. They had to pivot and become part of a wood bat college baseball summer league. Most of the players who played for the Muckdogs have no future in affiliated ball or the major leagues. What happens to the small towns when they lose affiliated ball? Do the fans continue to come out and support the team? Mr. Bardenwerper tackles these questions and brings us into the stands with him as he tracks their season.
This was a fun and interesting read that dug into a town who lost their minor-league affiliated ball and had to adapt. I have a soft spot for any book that covers any sort of minor league ball affiliated or not. These teams are more often than not located in small town America where it seems like these teams become part of the fabric of the city. The best part about this book is the stories and the characters in the book. Wether it is popcorn Bob who makes all the popcorn for the stadium, the octogenarians who are raising their grandkids by bringing them to the ballpark most nights, or the self proclaim nerd who runs the local comic book and collectible store where Mr. Bardenwerper purchases a Star Wars figurine for his young son each trip, you can’t help but enjoy hearing about these folks. It is easy to lose track of time while hearing their stories.
If I had one complaint about the book, it would be the constant mentioning of Major League Baseball’s greedy owners and their decision to re-organize the minor leagues stripping over 40 clubs of their official minor-league status. The facts and the points are valid, but this seems to be a topic that comes up almost every chapter. By the fifth time I heard of the book, I was mumbling to myself. OK OK enough.
Don’t what one minor complaint keep you away from this excellent book about baseball, small towns, and the stories they hold. I would highly recommend picking this book up as is informative and heartfelt.
How this book following a minor league baseball team can capture war, aging, companionship, political discord, and the changing landscape of automation is pretty remarkable. A gentle, non flashy book highlighting something that brings people together in a time where so much drives us apart. Recommend reading if you are a baseball fan, or have taken pause at the bloated salaries of professional players, or have scoffed at the lack of human connection in today's world, or miss a few mom & pop shops in your community. Or recommend reading if you can appreciate a beautiful day at the ballpark and all the little joys that come along with it. OR if you appreciate a little nostalgia, this is a heartfelt observation of fond memories growing up playing games and how sports can impact so much of the human experience. A favorite line in the book that deeply resonated: "Predisposed to a Nostalgia that can sometimes verge on melancholy i was already too aware of just how fleeting the experience actually was"
This sort of book has been done several times. A similar book was written by Roger Khan about 40 years ago coincidentally with some of the same cities. Bardenwerper covered the Batavia Muckdogs, a team in a league made up of minor league cities Major League Baseball contracted in the wake of the Covid pandemic. The teams are made up of college players who have little chance to make it to MLB. Bardenwerper gets to know the people affiliated with the team from the owners to the fans. Batavia gives him an idea to experience baseball in an ideal state away from the statistic infused MLB. While Bardenwerper's criticisms of MLB are valid, he tends to go on about it too much. I liked how he got to know the several loyal fans profiled and how he tried to get his young son involved.
A fine book but there are better takes on minor league baseball. This seam too far into the nostalgia for small town, the “overpaid athlete” stereotypes, the romanticized take of a an owner who is “parsimonious” and “thrifty” while MLB owners are cheap (they are..Bob Nutting is a joke of an owner).
Finally the kicker is that in a league that struggles with attendance and year-to-year survival the author and his book’s central character complain the loudest during the playoffs when the competition is best and the crowd is the most raucous.
a very sad DNF @ 30%. I might end up coming back to this one, but the politics of it all just made me so uncomfortable only 100 pages in. To bring up the horrific, racially motivated shooting in Buffalo and then a few chapters later accuse the media of manufacturing fear…..just left an extremely bad taste in my mouth. Also the author seems to suffer from what I’m calling Inside The NBA Syndrome: he doesn’t actually like his product. Womp womp
As a life long Batavia resident I know I have a bias about this book, but it really puts my thoughts on minor league baseball and what Batavia lost and gained into words. I know many of the people and places mentioned in this book and experienced many similar stories in my times at the ballpark and the community. This was very powerful writing, so thank you for writing something I can share with my family and friends.
The book may as well have been written just for me. It talks about the major overhaul and contraction of minor league baseball teams through the lens of a team on the chopping block. I was the announcer of another minor league team that fell victim -- the Orem Owlz. The Owlz have since moved to Northern Colorado (Greeley) and then a month or two ago they just folded. Completely dismantled. It's sad what moneyed interests do to small-town fixtures.
A heartfelt trip through a small town, their local semipro baseball team’s summer season and the fans and the people who help. An elegant tribute to the beauty, simplicity and grace inherent in baseball
A highly recommended read if you love small town baseball. It was great to visit Dwyer Stadium and watch the Batavia Muckdogs and Jamestown Tarp Skunks game, and see some of the main characters in the book!
The portraits of the residents of Batavia are where the book shines, and the author writes about them with real love and reverence. That being said, a lot of the book felt like a lecture from my dad (“You know, back in my day…” with a finger pointing at me), and that grew tiresome. Baseball has had varied issues long before the early aughts.