I Lit K MM This baseball team has a blind announcer and a dog that retrieves f . I I I.I I l M t I I toui Dans, it s run oy vviKe veecK, who's a bit out in left field himself. n ye i . e A 1 A i ' Miracle President Mike Veeck has turned Miracle games into 'a happening.' ) -A 1 " . KiJ Photos by ALLEN EYESTONEStaff Photographer Vinny Nerone gets an $8 cut by Donna Zingarelli, owner of Blazing Scissors in Fort Lauderdale, during a game at Miracle Stadium in Pompano Beach. ' a;. 1 'ViT? Umpire Scott Nance thanks Jericho, who retrieves foul balls, for bringing him some Gatorade. By SCOTT EYMAN Palm Beach Post Staff Writer Lightning has struck the Miami Miracle twice in the last year-and-a-half. The first time was when they named Mike Veeck team president. Attendance went up, play improved and baseball became fun again, as it can be only under the aegis of a man named Veeck. The second time was the week of July 22, but this time it was no metaphor, it was real. The bolt blew out the scoreboard and gently suggested to every player on the field that he throw himself on the ground. A ground ball, hit just as the lightning crash-landed, dribbled through the infield. But since the runner on first was eating dirt along with everybody else and didn't advance, no harm was done. These things never happened at old Comiskey Park, but then this is Class A Ball, the Miami Miracle, Mike Veeck's Home for Unwed Baseball Players who play their home games in Pompano Beach. The Miracle is not your ordinary ball club and Mike Veeck is not an ordinary baseball man. You can tell that by the Lenny Bruce T-shirt pinned to his office wall, or the Pete Rose autographed ball on the shelf. In 18 months on the job, Veeck has turned the Miracle into what the lingo of a bygone generation would have referred to as "a happening." There is always something cooking at a Miracle game. There is a blind play-by-play announcer, there are haircuts in the stands, there are rock bands, and there is the Blue Review, a pair of incredibly leather-lunged fans who offer consolation and advice about alternate careers to opposing players and umpires. Men like Bill Veeck and, for that matter, his son are scamps, rascals, people who say d quiet but firm 'not necessarily' to the conventional wisdom Above everything else, there is a particularly great dog named Jericho who retrieves foul balls and, during the seventh inning stretch, runs what Veeck has dubbed The Miracle Mile. "Ah, Jericho," ruminates Veeck. "I pulled into a Farm Store one night and ordered some ice cream. This guy goes 'Give the dog the money.' This dog brings the draw sack over in his mouth, gives it to me. I put the fin in his mouth, he turns around and takes it back to the guy at the register. Later, I'm driving around trying to figure out what the signature of the team is going to be, and then it hits me: The dog!" He also hired the team of Jim "Tiny" Lucas (the sighted one) and Don Wardlow (the blind one) to do his play-by-play. Veeck had received one of the 176 letters they sent out to every team in the United States and Canada asking for a chance to broadcast one game, just one game. Veeck was the only man to give them a shot. After their tryout game, he hired them full time. Please see MIRACLE4D