GRANDVILLE, Mich. — A group of six guys scattered across the Midwest have turned a hobby into a lifestyle. They've kept their fantasy baseball league active for 43 straight seasons.
While they do love the sport itself, they told FOX 17 the true fantasy here runs deeper than the digital diamond.
“You count on three things, right? Death, taxes and Mr. Baseball," said Mike Domine, a participant since 2000 and son of Rick Domine, one of the league's founding members.
Some people have traditions. The Mr. Baseball Fantasy League members have started an institution.
“Baseball was the vehicle, but I think the friendship was the glue," said Tim Shaw, another founding member. "That's how I would put it.”
America's pastime has inspired this modern legend. Mr. Baseball's 43-season lifespan makes it one of the longest-running fantasy leagues ever.
“It's hard to wrap your head around it sometimes," Shaw said. "When we first started, five of us were in our younger 20s. Rick was there he's smoking a pipe that first night. 'George Brett! George Brett! 10 cents!' Oh my god, you know. It seemed like he was 100. Here we are, and now he is! It's like, God, how did we get here?”
Back in 1981, Rick came across an article that outlined this brand-new idea at the time. You could compete against others by managing a make-believe baseball team based on real major-league athletes.
Their performance on the field would directly translate to your team's success.
“Said, hey, this might be a good game to play. Let's give it a try," Rick proposed.
Rick, Shaw and Dennis Fox, three members from that original six-person group, are still in the league today.
They wanted to come up with a name, so they landed on 'Mr. Baseball.'
“We weren't particularly articulate," Shaw joked. "The winner, the first year, we decided would be 'Mr. Baseball.' The a loser was 'Mrs. Baseball.'”
Doug Domine, who joined in 2003, said, "Early on the 'Mrs. Baseball' had to wear a bra during the draft for a period of time."
Shaw responded, "Then we all got too fat and the bras couldn’t fit anymore.”
Keep in mind, this was well before modern technology, so everything was done by hand.
"God awful," Shaw said.
“It was a nightmare," Rick added. "Six or seven hours to do a draft. The first year was even longer. It was all day.”
If they thought that was a pain, tracking and mailing stats during the season was even worse.
“So once a month, we'd get a packet," Rick said. "It was this thick, full of paper, from whoever did the stats that month.”
Shaw chimed in, admitting, "The truth is, if we knew then what we know now, I don't know that we would have done it, but we didn't know any different. So it was just the way it was.”
Just like the sport it simulated, Mr. Baseball became a spring staple. Season after season, this league would have a draft, and every member would be in attendance.
“When we first started out, most of us were single," Shaw said. "o you were required to tell your future bride that 'this is Mr. Baseball weekend. We can get married but I will not be around.' Then we screwed it up. We had some kids (and) birthdays right in that time period."
Life tried its best to get in the way, with divorces, deaths, moves and members dropping in and out.
About 20 years ago, they briefly decided to break up the group.
“Dennis was the one that kind of saved it," Shaw explained. "He got on the phone and said, 'I'm gonna really miss Mr. Baseball, but we can have it in my house.'”
“That was really a pivot point," he continued. "Since then, there just hasn't been any issue. It's understood.”
In fact, things have only gotten smoother, especially after 2003. That's when Mike, one of the league's newer faces at that time, helped them finally transition into the 21st century.
“Just because I'm the youngest one that grew up a little more savvy on the computer," Mike said. "I was telling them, 'Hey, we can do this on the computer, guys. Let's get you into Yahoo.' That was our platform, and we've been at it ever since.”
A league, spawned by a craving for competition, now provides a lifelong community as well. Six Midwest men are keeping their friendship, and the fight to be Mr. Baseball, alive.
“Till death do us part," Shaw said.