The Eagles Land on RS

by Don Henley and Glenn Frey
Rolling Stone June 15, 1978

It was about two years ago that we began to get the distinct impression that the Rolling Stone music critics didn't like us very much. In fact, it seemed they didn't like anyone in our particular "genre," or anyone who made music in LA, for that matter. You know, all you laid-back, mellow, highflying, West Coast cowboy angst-meister types. It seems that we were all victims of some kind of petty cultural war between LA and New York. (You all must be aware that rock and roll is just an "attitue"; singing and playing well don't really matter). Actually, some of the Rolling Stone critics used to like us, but then we because successful, you know, and after that, of course, it became totally impossible for any of them to accept us, because we all know that success is inherently evil and we must be protected from it at all costs. In the end, as all good cowboytypes do, we decided to settle this thing "outside." After weeks of trading "libelous" if somewhat trite remarks in Random Notes ("The Eagles seem....interested in finding a softball team they can beat, " said Charles M. Young), it we decided that the Eagles and Rolling Stone would duke it out in a USSPSA (United States Slow Pitch Softball Association) professional softball match. The bloody battle, it was decided, would be held at Dedeaux Fiele on the USC campus.

"Real men play in the snow in Central Park," sniveled RS team captain Charles M. Young, obviously horrified at possible exposure to actual sunshine. As game day approached, threats in Random Notes gre more ridiculous (boring?). Eagles manager Irv Azoff (aka Industry Upstart) and Rolling Stone's "boy publisher," Jann Wenner, engaged in hours of long-distance shouting matches. Glenn Frey's already tenuous relationship with Charles M. Young was rapidly approaching switch-blade and tire-tool proportions. Still, negotiations continued, and it was decided that Sunday, May 7th, would be game day. The Eagles and RS agreed that in order to make things even more interesting, the loser would donate $5000 to the UNICEF World Nutrition Program. Azoff and Wenner thought that the would possible overshadow the fact that this was to be one of the most deadly earnest grudge matches of all time--but the players were out for blood.

On a sunny Saturday afternoon the day before the game, the Eagles were having their final workout at Deadeaux Field. Slumped in a row of seats high up in the bleachers were the RS scouts, Wenner, Dunning, Crowe, etc. There were not smiling. Still, all seemed to be going well until Eagles pitcher Don Henley walked in carrying a pair of steel spikes. Wenner sat bolt upright in his chair. He peered downward at the field. That in occurred to him that Glenn Frey was also wearing metal spikes. The he noticed that most of the Eagles team were wearing metal-spiked baseball shoes. Something told him that one of these psychos would not be the least bit adverse to putting a swift end to Charlie Young's capacity for procreation, not to mention his typing hand. Suddenly, this mellow, country-rock band from LA had an aura about it not unlike the Philadelphia Flyers.

Wenner rushed down the stadium stairs to confront Azoff. "Rubber cleats or we're not playing," he shouted.

"But, Jann, " Azoff replied, "these are regulation shoes."

"Someone might get hurt," Wenner said.

"How exciting, " Azoff replied. "Do your writers ever think about that?"

After more bickering the Eagles conceded and decided that the hanging would take place in peace cleats. (The next day it was noted that, "just in case," Wenner had sent out that evening and outfitted his team with steel spikes, which were kept in the dugout on standby). It was also agreed that Joe Smith, former voice of the Boston Celtics, chairman of the board of Elektra/Asylum, now part-time mediocre actor, would be the emcee.

The day of the game arrived--one of those typically mellow, laid-back, warm, sunny, soft-rock California afternoons, except today there was tension in the air. Both teams took their share of verbal abust from sportscaster Smith, who seemed to hate everybody equally. The Eagles' bleachers were filled to capacity with the likes of Joni Mitchell, Betsy Asher, Mary Kay Place, Karla Bonoff, Donal Fagen, Chevy Chase, Marcia Strassman, etc., while the RS bleachers were relatively empty except for Daryl Hall and a collection of cute, young cheerleaders from Hollywood High, yet another tragically hip move by RS (whoever heard of cheerleaders at a baseball game?).

As the strains of our national anthem, "Life in the Fast Lane" faded, one could indeed feel that there was fear as well as loathing. Every player was scared. For perhaps the first time, some of the RS writers knew what it felt like to called upon to "perform" in front of thousands of eyes. Conspicuously absent were Stephen Holden, Paul Nelson and Greil Marcus. "The never could face the music, " noted Frey. The over the PA system came the order to "Play ball!" First up to bat was RS team captain, Charles M. Young, who was wearing a suspicious looking bandage on his right arm. It was the consensus among the Eagles that he had contracted tendinitis from staying up all night practicing various methods of character assassination and generally cutting total strangers to ribbons with his fountain pen. Some even speculated that he had been wounded in an aborted attempt to kidnap Frey's cat, Charlie, the night before the game. Never try to kidnap a cat who has the same name as you.

Charles M. Young's performance at the plate was an omen. He popped out to Eagle second baseman Terry Bassett. Even Jim Dunning, Rolling Stone's best player, once drafted by the Baltimore Orioles, had the jitters and grounded out to second base. The Rolling Stone third baseman, Eric Baron, drew a walk, and Henley got the RS first baseman, Claeys Bahrenburg on a fly ball to left field.

As the Eagles came to bad in the bottom of the first, their new kid was nervous. Timothy B. Schmit, the Lation with the German last name and the samurai headband, was so nervous, in fact, that he drilled a line shot that nearly took Eric Baron's glove at third base. This too was an omen. We would hit the ball hard all day long. At the end of the first, the score was 3-0, but RS did not lie down. After a quiet second inning they came bace to tie the score 3-3 in the top of the third. We realized that we had to tighten up our defense and keep scoring runs. We scored three in the bottom of the third, three in the fourth, but didn't score in the fifth. Frey paced. "A 9-3 lead is not enough, " he declared. "We've got to keep scoring runs. No more quiet innings." The Eagles responded in their half of the sixth be sending ten men to the plate to bombard losing pitcher Tim "You guys were just lucky" Reitz with consecutive singles by Felder, Walsh and Henley, followed by consecutive doubles by Schmit, Frey and Peter Cetera, bass player for Chicago, resulting in six runs, all produced by musicians.

The score was now 15-3. RS mustered small rallies in the eighth and ninth, but it was too late. Final score" 15-8. Peter "Better tickets, better reviews" Herbst, the proud owner of two errors and hitless in three trips to the plate, looked dejected. It seemd he had this performance problem. His team left thirteen runners stranded while committing five errors. In the end it was the errors that cost RS the game. Their first error was to call the Eagles sissies. Their second error was to compete with us in front of girls.