Arizona sends in clowns to welcome back Melvin

TUCSON, Ariz. — Bob Melvin knew there would be some clowning around yesterday when he faced his old pals on the Arizona Diamondbacks. He just wasn't expecting them to have big red noses and rainbow Afros.

In baseball, where shameless razzing is the sincerest form of flattery, and practical jokes are the currency of affection, the Diamondbacks welcomed back Melvin, their old bench coach, with open arms. But he would have been wise to check for joy buzzers and whoopee cushions — or, as it turned out, beanballs.

A little song, a little dance, a little seltzer in his flannel pants.

The Diamondbacks didn't miss a trick. When Melvin came over to their clubhouse to greet them in the morning, a reconnaissance team went to the Seattle side and absconded with his duffel bag, returning it with his Mariners uniform tied in knots, shoelaces removed from his shoes. Melvin fingered Tony Dello, the D-backs' batting practice pitcher, whose picture just happened to be left inside the bag.

They sent over one of his old Diamondbacks fungo bats, with a large circular hole neatly drilled out of the sweet spot. Hall of Famer Robin Yount, an Arizona coach and home craftsman, was the chief suspect.

"It's been quite a morning," Melvin said before the game, and he didn't even know that the best was yet to come.

The Diamondbacks got word in the morning from an anonymous source that Melvin has this thing about clowns, a fact that had somehow eluded their knowledge during his two years in the organization. He says they give him the creeps — always have.

"I never was much of a circus guy," he said earlier in the spring.

Naturally, Arizona personnel jumped all over this juicy tidbit, gleefully exploiting his coulrophobia (yeah, there's really a word for fear of clowns) to the fullest.

Hastily hitting the phones, they arranged for two clowns, in full regalia, to make repeated appearances around Tucson Electric Park during the game. Introduced to the crowd as "Bob" and "Melvin," the clowns first showed up in the top of the third inning, standing right in front of Melvin to throw T-shirts into the crowd. Melvin immediately gestured toward the Arizona dugout, shaking his head.

The clowns came back several times after that, but Melvin simply ignored them, ducking into the sanctity of the dugout whenever they were near.

"The clowns spooked me for a minute," he admitted. "That was weak, a little excessive. I know where it came from."

Presumably, he was speaking about Diamondbacks Manager Bob Brenly, his best friend, but Brenly said, with a big smile, "I noticed the clowns. I had nothing to do with it. Other than that, I have no comment."

OK, he had one more comment: "We're in the entertainment business, and there's a lot of kids that really enjoy the two clowns."

It was all in good fun, more or less, but the feel-good atmosphere was shattered when Diamondbacks pitcher Miguel Batista hit Bret Boone in the top of the sixth inning, and Mariners pitcher Jeff Nelson hit Luis Gonzalez leading off the bottom of the sixth. Benches cleared, but order was soon restored.

The Mariners insisted it wasn't intentional, the Diamondbacks insisted it was, the time-honored baseball song and dance. The incident did nothing to mar the genuine affection the Diamondbacks hold for Melvin, who was Brenly's bench coach in 2001 when the Diamondbacks beat the New York Yankees in the World Series.

"Other than being a liar on the golf course, he's a good man, and I'm really happy he got into a situation where he's not going to have to struggle, and start from scratch," veteran first baseman Mark Grace said. "He has a core of tremendous players there. They are one of about five teams in the American League that could easily win the World Series."

Gonzalez, in the eye of yesterday's storm, is among Melvin's biggest boosters. Before the game, the outfielder was chatting with Melvin near the Mariners dugout when Boone passed by.

"Gonzo, he's not on your team anymore," Boone said jokingly.

"Hey, we miss the guy, I'm telling you," Gonzalez replied.

He felt the same way after the game, absolving Melvin from culpability in the Nelson incident.

"Bo-Mel (Melvin's nickname of choice with Arizona) said he didn't call for that," Gonzalez said. "He was more upset he (Nelson) did it."

Melvin and Brenly had much to talk about when they dined together last night in Tucson, but that's nothing new. Though separated from the same coaching staff, they still talk virtually every day on the phone.

"He took the job in the winter time, and they were running him to Seattle to meet this guy, meet that guy, meet Ichiro, meet investors," Brenly said. "He said, 'Does it ever stop?' I said, 'Yeah, when the baseball season starts, that's when your fun starts.' "

That moment is now precisely two weeks away. Send in the clowns.

Larry Stone: 206-464-3146 or lstone@seattletimes.com