In the 1988 film Bull Durham, a classic about innocence and experience burning bright in bush-league baseball, Susan Sarandon, as sports groupie Annie Savoy says: “I believe in the Church of Baseball....I prefer metaphysics to theology. You see, there’s no guilt in baseball, and it’s never boring.”

And sometimes it’s really not that expensive either. Although tickets to the big show can go for up to $250, try taking in a Sharks game at their field next to the high school, for a guilt-free event that bears no resemblance to luxury or pretension,

The Martha’s Vineyard Sharks are one of 10 teams in the Futures Collegiate Baseball League (FCBL). Still in its toddler phase, this division of college athletes plays a 56-game summer season with hopes that a scout in the crowd will help launch them into major-league futures. And the crowds are right there wishing with them. This is entertainment under the sun, the clouds or the stars, where all the seats are the cheap seats. Prices range from $5 to $14; a family summer outing that will not require forgoing a week’s worth of groceries.

Stolen Bases, narrated by Curt Cowdy.

Economics, or the lack thereof, has also kept other leagues, like those in independent professional baseball, alive as well. What’s that, you ask? Ever hear of the Atlantic League? Back in 2000 I didn’t. Then I got a call from a Wall Street bond trader named Chris English. He owned the Nashua (NH) Pride, which along with seven other clubs, comprised the Atlantic League, covering the North Atlantic states. Chris wanted me to produce a video about this little-known game of indy ball. I complied.

Each spring when the Red Sox, for example, finalize their 25-man roster, the pickings by then are slim for those not making the cut. Hence, the Atlantic League, where players are both coming and going — sometimes the boys of summer are wet behind the ears; sometimes they’re the boys of autumn.

The Nashua Pride in 2000 had its fair share of “stars” attracting fans to Holman Stadium. For the price of a hamburger or hot dog, you could see such comets as Casey Candaele, Tony Rodriguez, Mike Easler, John Roper, Sam Horn, Glenn Murray, Ken Ryan, James Lofton and Andujar Cedeno. They were kept there by little pay and big dreams. They stayed with host families and traveled by bus.

But the biggest name in 2000 belonged to the manager, Butch Hobson, the great third baseman for the Red Sox (1975-80). The fans showered him with affection. He reciprocated.

Stolen Bases became the title of my video, referring metaphorically to the hustle of these indy ball players, and the extra innings they managed to get. But it also refers literally to a practice Hobson used to engage the fans and spark his team. I had the pleasure of watching him getting thrown from a game in a disputed call at second base. In a fit of pique Hobson ripped the base out of the ground, walked off with it and handed it to a nonplussed kid in the stands. The boy smiled, the crowd went wild, and Butch strolled into the dugout. That happened more than once that year. That’s entertainment.

I was hired to document the season by putting together a highlights reel. But then something happened. The Pride started winning game after game. Chris English wanted me to keep shooting. I explained that we were reaching the end of our budget. I was then told the budget now had no ends. By the time it was completed, Stolen Bases would be narrated by Curt Gowdy.

In September of that year, the Pride played the Somerset (NJ) Patriots in the Atlantic League Championship Series and swept them in three games, the final one ending after midnight in the 14th inning. Butch Hobson had bested his friend, Patriots manager Sparky Lyle, master of the slider when it was not a teeny burger. Lyle pitched for the Red Sox (1967-71) and the Yankees (1972-78).

Back in Nashua, the town threw a parade for their champs. The Pride lasted for a dozen years before it moved to Pittsfield in 2010 and then folded the following year. Today Hobson is the manager of the Atlantic League’s Lancaster (PA) Barnstormers. Twenty years ago a cocaine bust ejected him out of the majors. I never once heard him crying about his latest lot in life.

Now playing in Nashua’s Holman Stadium are the Silver Knights, one of the teams in the FCBL. And Chris English, now a hedge fund manager, owns the Brockton Rox, another FCBL team. One major Rox investor is baseball fan and funny man Bill Murray, a sometimes Vineyard resident. 

So take in a ballgame, bring me along. Buy me some peanuts and Crackerjacks. And take me back to an easier time when all sports tickets were less than $20 a seat, gasoline was 25 cents a gallon and college was $2,500 a semester.

In more ways than one, time can stand still in baseball. But remember, there’s no guilt in baseball. And, as Tom Hanks said 24 years ago in A League of Their Own: “There’s no crying in baseball!”

Arnie Reisman and his wife, Paula Lyons, regularly appear on the weekly NPR comedy quiz show, Says You! He also writes for the Huffington Post.