Au Hasard Balthazar

Sad news out of Seattle today, Hansa the elephant has died. Barajas and Hansa became fast friends when they met at Woodland Park Zoo in 2003. The two had been pen pals ever since, exchanging emails on a near nightly basis. Barajas was known to check in with the six year-old elephant on his Blackberry between innings. After yesterday's game against the Kansas City Royals Barajas dedicated his home run to his departed friend, saying, "Hansa was a real gamer. Some days she didn't feel like going out there and entertaining the fans, but each and every day she took the ball and she performed. She gave it her all. Now she's in a better place. The big cage in the sky. All the peanuts she could ever want. I'm sorry, I'm getting emotional. I can't... I'm sorry." Upon regaining his composure, Barajas announced his intentions to start a foundation, to be named the Hansa Foundation, in honor of the young elephant. The foundation's stated aim is to promote elephant herpes awareness. A fun run is planned for September.

Barajas has held an affinity for elephants since his youth. In June of 1981, he and his gang of barnstorming runaway child ballplayers rolled their wagon into Kuttawa, Kentucky. There, on the shores of Lake Barkley, they met up with the Reginald Webster's Lyon County Ragtime Circus & Carnival Bonanza. Webster was so taken by the young vagabonds that he signed them on for a fortnight to challenge the Lake Barkley Carnival Workers Union in an epic 27 game series (the LBCWU, which was formed in 1979 in the aftermath of the Great Carnival Workers Dispute of 1978, during which rival carnival workers in Kuttawa and neighboring Eddyville actively tried to sabotage the other's carnival rides, was established to quell tensions and ensure the safety of all carnival goers). The Carnival Workers Union proved to be worthy adversaries for the runaway ballplayers. It was a hard-fought, back and forth series with far too many turning points to recount at this time. In the twenty-seventh and deciding game, Barajas, who was behind the plate for all 26 previous games (as well as the 147 other contests the kids had played since hitting the road in Southern California in February) tore the roof off the big top. Quite literally, in fact, as his fourth inning mammoth blast tore a hole in the circus tent, causing it to collapse. The game was called and the Carnival Workers Union (who were intimately connected to a powerful gambling syndicate and had a great deal of money riding on their victory) began to riot. As the carnival workers were not only preoccupied with their baseball game, but now also rioting, there was no one around to restore order. Poor Reginald Webster made a futile attempt to calm the carnies, announcing through his blowhorn a generous offer to all union members that included a promise of free cotton candy and a lifetime pass to see the bearded lady. Also, before long the entire circus was up in flames. Barajas narrowly escaped death by leaping onto the back of a young elephant named Balthazar and riding him to safety. Many of his teammates, including the crafty lefty Oscar Chaffey, died that day.

But back to Hansa. When someone in Barajas' immediate circle is dealt a mysterious death our alarm sounds. It is far too early to suggest foul play, but in the coming weeks and months we hope to get to the bottom of this mystery.