The Time Capsule | Roy Marshall

Easter, which is on the first Sunday after the first full moon occurring on or after the vernal equinox, falls this year on April 1. Because of Easter, there probably will not be many April Fools’ pranks, although there seem to be fewer of them anyway.

Over the years I’ve done several columns for the occasion, only one of which was published. I don’t know why the others were rejected, but the reaction to the one that was printed may provide a clue. In it I wrote that subscribers could expect a few blank pages, lack of pictures, typos and other glitches for a few weeks, but we’d soon have these minor problems resolved. There’d be a few bumps because I’d secured the financial backing of several prominent businessmen and we’d purchased the Express. The investors were politically conservative and had asked all Democrats on the staff to submit resignations effective immediately, except for the accountant who took in money and wrote paychecks. She was being retained until we found a replacement. The column continued in this vein for 500 words and ended without clarifying that this was all made up.

Oh dear, oh my. There were readers who were upset. I don’t recall the name of the young lady at the front desk, nor do I know her political affiliation, but she did not see the humor. And let me know.

It was a bad idea, I suppose, not nearly as good as one perpetrated by the BBC back in 1957. During a news broadcast, it was announced that thanks to a combination of favorable weather and eradication of the dreaded “spaghetti weevil,” Swiss peasants were reaping a bumper crop of pasta. The segment included footage of workers, clad in attire associated with Switzerland, picking limp spaghetti from tree limbs.

BBC reported being swamped by callers wanting to know how they could get a tree and grow their own. Someone came up with an answer that was used repeatedly; “put a strand of spaghetti in a cup of tomato sauce and hope for the best.”

My personal favorite, and I was taken in by this one, was Sidd Finch. The magazine was Sports Illustrated, the year 1985. Their April edition revealed that the New York Mets had signed a rookie who could throw a baseball 168 miles an hour. Even though this was about 65 miles per hour faster than Bob Feller in his fondest dream, the deceit didn’t occur to me. I read on to learn that Sidd Finch, who preferred to throw with one foot bare, the other in a work boot, had never played baseball. Instead, while exploring his spiritual self and the meaning of life, he’d chosen Buddhism and seclusion in a Tibetan monastery. There he practiced yoga, found an inner peace and learned to throw a baseball with incredible velocity.

The article was written by George Plimpton, who placed these lines in the sub-title: “He’s a pitcher, part yogi and part recluse. Impressively liberated from our opulent life style, Sidd’s deciding about yoga—and his future in baseball.”

Very few readers noted that the first letters in the string of words spelled “April Fools.” Had I noticed the writer’s name I’d have been suspicious, but I did not. In a barber shop a few days later, talk turned to baseball. I brought up the Mets rookie and his 168 mph fastball, speculating that if he could throw strikes there wasn’t a hitter who could touch him. The barber, who was onto the hoax, played me like a fine violin.

Roy Marshall is a local historian and columnist for the Red Oak Express. He can be contacted at news@redoakexpress.com.