Batman, Sister Bertrille, and a 4 A.M. Search for Baseball on TV: Another Journey Inside My Mind
- Mark Rosenman
- 3 minutes ago
- 11 min read
The Mets had once again just dropped back-to-back gut-punch losses.
My Strat-O-Matic team was somehow performing even worse, which is really saying something because unlike the Mets, my roster doesn't have actual human beings making millions of dollars.
So there I was sometime around midnight, staring at my bedroom ceiling, watching imaginary box scores bounce around my head like a pinball machine.
But if you've read any of my previous work—whether it was my deep dive into "Take Me Out to the Ball Game," my cartoon baseball expedition through the Looney Tunes universe, or the eight-hour SABR rabbit hole that somehow connected baseball, Buster Keaton, and Joe E. Brown—you already know this is how my brain works.
Normal people lose sleep worrying about bills, world events, or whether they remembered to lock the front door.
I lose sleep wondering which sitcoms featured baseball players.
That's a different kind of problem.
Somewhere between 1:00 and 2:00 in the morning, I found myself ranking my favorite baseball-related sitcom appearances of all time. At first it seemed simple enough. I figured I could throw together a quick Top 10 list and call it a night.
Then reality intervened.
Because I couldn't remember if "The Courtship of Eddie's Father" ever had a baseball episode.
Which led me to wonder whether any baseball players ever appeared on Batman.
Which somehow made me think about Sally Field.
Which reminded me of Patty Duke.
Which naturally led me to Dick Van Dyke.
Which then led me to "My Mother the Car" because Jerry Van Dyke starred in it.
And if you're wondering how any of those things connect to baseball, congratulations—you've just experienced what it's like to spend five minutes inside my head.
It's sort of like the old "Dem Bones" song.
The toe bone's connected to the foot bone.
The foot bone's connected to the ankle bone.
The ankle bone's connected to the leg bone.
And somehow the Sally Field bone is connected to the Patty Duke bone, which is connected to the Dick Van Dyke bone, which is connected to the Jerry Van Dyke bone, which is connected to the baseball guest-star bone.
By 2:00 a.m., Google had become my unwilling research assistant.
Did any major leaguers ever open a window on one of those Batman building crawls?
Did any Mets ever visit Sister Bertrille at the Convent San Tanco on The Flying Nun?
And perhaps the more disturbing question: Why do I even know the name of the convent? I struggle to remember which temple I attended growing up, yet somehow my brain has permanently reserved space for "Convent San Tanco" for the last fifty-plus years. Apparently, useful information gets evicted so random 1960s television trivia can live there rent-free.
What about The Patty Duke Show?
And yes, I spent a good 20 minutes trying to remember the theme song. Not the entire thing, mind you—just enough of it to get stuck in my head for the rest of the night. Suddenly I was lying there at 3:17 a.m. mumbling, "Meet Cathy, who's lived most everywhere, from Zanzibar to Barclay Square..." while wondering how one simple list idea had turned into a Patty Duke sing-along. The scary part? Somewhere in the back of my brain, Cathy still adores a minuet, Patty still loves rock and roll, and apparently I still know way too much about a sitcom that went off the on my birthday 3 years before the Mets won their first World Series.
Dick Van Dyke?
My Mother the Car?
Was there some obscure baseball-themed sitcom episode hiding out there waiting for me to discover it?
Six hours later, I had my answers.
Or at least enough answers to assemble what I am officially calling the definitive ranking of my favorite baseball-themed sitcom episodes and baseball-player sitcom appearances.
Definitive, of course, only until the Mets lose another heartbreaker and I find myself staring at the ceiling again.
Then all bets are off.
So once again, the door to my mind is open. Enter at your own risk. What began as two bad Mets losses and an even worse Strat-O-Matic season somehow became a six-hour search through television history, theme songs, baseball guest stars, and memories I didn't even know I still had.
As Rod Serling might have said, you're about to enter another dimension. A dimension not only of sight and sound, but of baseball, sitcoms, obscure television trivia, and late-night Google searches. A journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of imagination. Next stop...
Oh crap. The Twilight Zone.
Be right back.
I'm back.
And yes, believe it or not, The Twilight Zone had a baseball episode.
Of course it did.
"The Mighty Casey" featured the Hoboken Zephyrs, the worst team in baseball, who suddenly discover a phenomenal pitcher named Casey. In true Twilight Zone fashion, Casey turns out to be a robot. Then someone gives him a heart, which causes him to develop emotions, lose his killer instinct on the mound, and eventually have his secret exposed during a physical examination. Maybe that's what happened with Kodai Senga ?
You would think that discovery alone would have been enough to satisfy my curiosity.
You would be wrong.
Because once I learned there was a Twilight Zone baseball episode, I had to learn everything about it.
Which led me to discover that the episode originally starred Paul Douglas, who had played the manager in the original Angels in the Outfield movie. Douglas completed filming but tragically passed away before the episode aired. Rod Serling personally stepped in to fund the recasting and complete reshooting of the entire episode, replacing Douglas with one of my favorite actors, Jack Warden.
And that's when I realized I had spent another half an hour researching a baseball episode of The Twilight Zone that wasn't even going to make my Top 10 list.
Which, in a nutshell, is exactly how my brain works.
So before my brain decides it needs to open just one more browser tab and derail everything again, let’s get to the countdown of my Top 10 favorite baseball sitcom connections.
#10 — My Mother the Car
If there has ever been a stronger argument that 1960s television was being written in an alternate universe, it’s My Mother the Car.
A man buys a used 1928 automobile, only to discover it is the reincarnation of his dead mother, who communicates through the radio. Yes, really.
It lasted one season. Critics destroyed it. TV Guide later ranked it one of the worst shows of all time.
And yet… it cracks my Top 10.
Why?
Because less than four minutes into the first episode, they mention the Mets.
That’s it. That’s the whole scouting report. You can have a talking car mother, but if you say “Mets” early, you’ve made the roster.
Somewhere in there, I also started thinking it might have accidentally inspired Apple CarPlay, which tells you everything you need to know about how my brain works.
#9 — The New Odd Couple
The movie had the famous triple play at Shea, but this version of The Odd Couple somehow found its way into Citi Field—with Mr. Met making a cameo along the way.
Even better, Gary Marshall shows up as Oscar’s dad, which is a perfect full-circle moment considering he was the creator and executive producer of the original 1970s TV version—one of my all-time favorite shows.
That connection alone would have probably been enough to get it on the list.
But once you start tying in the franchise reboot, Citi Field, Mr. Met, and a direct line back to the original Odd Couple universe… well, you’ve basically got a spot in my Top 10.
#8 (Tie) — Willie Mays on The Donna Reed Show / Bewitched
We’re going with a tie here, because if Willie Mays is involved twice in classic sitcom television, I’m not breaking it up.
First up: The Donna Reed Show.
Willie Mays appeared as himself multiple times on the series, including episodes like “My Son the Catcher,” “Play Ball,” and most famously “Calling Willie Mays.” In that final appearance, the Stone family reacts like they’ve just hit the lottery when they learn Mays has left them tickets to a game—triggering the kind of domestic scramble only a baseball legend could create in a 1960s sitcom household.
What makes it even more interesting is the context. This was an era when seeing a Black superstar regularly portrayed in a family sitcom was still uncommon, and Mays wasn’t just a guest star—he was a cultural event. His presence wasn’t a cameo, it was groundbreaking.
Then there’s Bewitched.
In the Halloween episode “Twitch or Treat,” Willie Mays shows up again as himself, only this time the explanation gets a little more… supernatural. In true Bewitched fashion, his otherworldly baseball talent is playfully attributed to magical influence during a party hosted by Endora.
Because of course it is. It gets bonus points for Sam saying "Say Hey Willie "
So Willie Mays somehow exists in both worlds: one where he’s the greatest player in baseball, and another where he might secretly be a warlock.
#7 — Leave It to Beaver
This one is right up there for me—second only, of course, to the legendary soup bowl episode in my personal LITB rankings.
In “Long Distance Call,” Beaver and his friends Gilbert and Alan decide they’re going to do what every kid with a questionable idea eventually does: split the cost of a long-distance phone call to Los Angeles Dodgers pitcher Don Drysdale.
Because that’s a normal thing kids used to do in the early ’60s.
While Ward and June are out, the boys place the call, end up stuck on hold while Drysdale is apparently finishing a shower, and eventually do get to speak to him—at which point childhood dreams briefly become reality.
That moment lasts exactly until the phone bill shows up.
Because the operator informs them the call costs nearly ten dollars.
What I love about this episode is how pure it is: baseball hero on the phone, kids panicking over the bill, and a world where you could accidentally bankrupt yourself just trying to say hello to a Dodger.
It’s simple, it’s absurd, and in my world of sitcom baseball connections, it’s absolutely essential viewing.
#6 — The Munsters
I consistently debate over which show wins the “monster sitcom” crown—The Addams Family or The Munsters.
Lurch and “You rang?” usually tip the scales toward the Addams side… but this episode swings things right back.
Herman is trying to teach Eddie baseball when he absolutely crushes a ball eight blocks away and clocks Leo Durocher in the head. Naturally, Durocher signs him to play professionally.Grandpa sees money. Lily sees trouble. Herman sees a baseball diamond as something closer to demolition work.
It all falls apart quickly once Herman starts “playing” the game the only way he knows how—literally.
But I’ll say this: I’ll take Herman Munster’s laugh over “You rang?” any day.
And just like that, the debate is back on.
#5 — Mr. Ed
Just the name Mr. Ed is enough to set off the internal “Oh Wilbur…” soundtrack in my head.
And of course, the old line still holds: a horse is a horse, of course, of course.
But this one earns its place for something completely unexpected—Mr. Ed playing baseball with the 1963 Los Angeles Dodgers. We’re talking Sandy Koufax, Willie Davis, Johnny Roseboro, Moose Skowron, and Leo Durocher all somehow sharing the field with a talking horse.
Let that sink in for a second.
A talking horse… on a field with Koufax.
And honestly, this is exactly the kind of television moment that explains why my brain functions the way it does today.
Keeper. No question.
And now onto the home strecth. (see what I did there)
#4 — All in the Family (“Mike Meets Archie”)
This is a flashback episode from October 16, 1971, but it circles back to 1969— Mike’s confident prediction about the Mets winning the pennant suddenly feels a little less prophetic when it’s being reconstructed after the fact.
But anytime you get Seaver, Koosman, Hodges and Archie Bunker, it's top 5 worthy.
But what really locks this in at #4 is what All in the Family always did best—Archie and Mike going at it, this time over Jackie Robinson and everything that comes with that conversation in American sports and culture.
#3 — Everybody Loves Raymond (“Big Shots”)
This one is pure Mets nostalgia disguised as a sitcom episode.
Ray takes Robert to the Baseball Hall of Fame to meet the 1969 “Miracle Mets,” and naturally, things immediately go off the rails. Instead of waiting in line like normal human beings, Ray tries to use his sportswriter status to fast-track his brother straight to the players—specifically Robert’s idol, Art Shamsky.
It does not go well.
Security steps in, Ray gets bounced, and what was supposed to be a magical Hall of Fame moment turns into a very familiar exercise in humiliation.
But here’s the payoff: real members of the ’69 Mets show up as themselves—Shamsky, Tug McGraw, and others from that unforgettable team. That alone would’ve been enough.
Then you add Ray and Robert singing “Meet the Mets,” and suddenly this jumps from “fun episode” to “Top 3 material without debate.”
#2 — *Curb Your Enthusiasm (“The Car Pool Lane”)
This one is so strange it barely feels like it belongs in the same universe as the rest of the list—and yet here it is at #2.
Larry David, desperate to beat Los Angeles traffic, hires a sex worker so he can legally use the carpool lane and get to a Dodgers game on time.
That already feels like peak Larry David logic.
He brings her along to Dodger Stadium to sell the story, and in classic Curb fashion, the plan spirals immediately into something far messier than intended.
There’s also the added detail of Larry acquiring medical marijuana for his father’s glaucoma, which somehow becomes part of the day’s “baseball experience,” because of course it does.
But this episode is famous for something that has nothing to do with comedy at all.
While filming at Dodger Stadium, background footage accidentally captured a man in the stands—Juan Catalan—who was later able to use that footage to prove he was at the game during a murder investigation. It became real-world alibi evidence and cleared him of the charges.
So now you’ve got a sitcom episode that is funny, chaotic, slightly absurd… and also accidentally doubles as courtroom evidence.
Only in baseball. Only in Los Angeles. Only with Larry David.
And that’s why it sits firmly at #2.
#1 — Seinfeld (“The Boyfriend” / The Magic Loogie)
This is the undisputed heavyweight champion of my entire sitcom baseball universe.
Yes, I know Seinfeld gave us Kramer at Yankees fantasy camp, George working for the Yankees, Elaine at a Yankees game, and even a Phil Rizzuto “Holy cow” keychain buried somewhere under New York City like sports archaeology.
None of it matters.
Nothing touches this.
The “Magic Loogie” story comes out of the Mets-Phillies game on June 14, 1987, when Keith Hernandez makes an error that costs the Mets the game. Later, in the parking lot, Kramer and Newman heckle him with the immortal line: “Nice game, pretty boy.”
According to Newman and Kramer, Hernandez responds by turning and spitting on them.
What follows is not just a sitcom story—it’s a full-blown courtroom-level reconstruction of physics.
Jerry breaks it down like the Warren Commission. Newman describes a spit trajectory so impossible it becomes legendary: off the temple, to the ribs, wrist, cap drop, mid-air pause, hard left turn, thigh landing.
At which point Jerry delivers the verdict:
“That is one magic loogie.”
The brilliance of it is that it’s not just a joke—it’s a parody of *JFK*, complete with shot-for-shot investigative seriousness, camera tone, and even a meta-casting joke since Wayne Knight was actually in JFK.
And then comes the final twist: there had to be a second spitter.
Eventually, it’s revealed to be former Mets pitcher Roger McDowell lurking in the bushes, which somehow makes the whole thing even more perfect.
Because of course the most important baseball analysis in sitcom history involves Mets, conspiracy theory logic, and a physics-defying loogie.
And that’s why, for me, nothing else even comes close.
#1. Undisputed.
I should probably apologize for whatever earworms I may have unleashed along the way. If you've spent the last ten minutes humming, *"A horse is a horse, of course, of course," trying to remember whether Cathy prefers a minuet while Patty loves rock and roll, or randomly blurting out Herman Munster's laugh to the bewilderment of family members, well... welcome to my world.
But that's the beauty of these television and baseball rabbit holes. No list is ever truly complete. I'm sure there are plenty of sitcom episodes, guest appearances, and forgotten gems that escaped even my late-night Google marathon. So, consider this an open invitation. Drop your favorites in the comments and let me know which baseball-TV treasures I may have overlooked. Chances are you'll send me down another six-hour research journey—and honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way.
Comments