Roger Maris could have taught the Dodgers a lesson about home run class

This is a story about home runs that landed 63 years apart. Both were hit by famous baseball players and caught by obscure fans.

What happened next shows how far we’ve come since 1961. It also shows how coming far does not necessarily mean our sports-crazed society has progressed that much.

The first homer was hit by Roger Maris in 1961. Babe Ruth was involved. You probably know the details.

What you may not know is what unfolded after 19-year-old Sal Durante caught the ball.

“It’s a good little story,” said Kevin Maris, the second of Roger’s four sons.

But first, the not-so-good little story.

It began April 3 when Shohei Ohtani hit his first home run as Dodger. A lady named Ambar Roman caught it. She was at the game with her husband, Alexis Valenzuela.

“It started out so good,” he told the Los Angeles Times. “Then it ended in a hustle.”

Security guards escorted Roman and Valenzuela underneath the stands. They separated them and offered Roman an autographed bat, ball and two caps for her new prized possession.

“They said I could keep it, but he wouldn’t sign it and they wouldn’t authenticate it,’ she said. “And if it’s not authenticated, what’s it really worth?”

Roman initially wanted to keep it and find out but felt strong-armed into taking the Dodgers’ offer. Word got out, and the feel-good moment turned into a public relations fiasco.

Now go back Oct. 1, 1963, at Yankee Stadium. Durante caught the ball that broke Ruth’s hallowed single-season home run record.

All he wanted was to hand it to Maris after the game. The new home run king autographed the ball then handed it back.

“Keep it, kid,” Maris said. “Somebody will pay you a lot of money for the ball.”

There’s more to that story, but its moral is simple — Roger’s Way sure beats the Dodger's Way.

I don’t want to wax about the loss of an innocence that was never really there, but sports have turned into a What’s-In-It-For-Me business.

It’s not just the Dodgers. It feels as if everyone’s in on some hustle.

College players have turned into hired guns, transferring from school to school. Conferences have dissolved over dollars. Saudi oil barons have spent billions to buy the love of golfers and soccer players, if not fans.

Fans in the bleachers don’t see baseballs headed their way. They see dollar signs.

I don’t blame them. If I’d snagged Ohtani’s first Dodger dinger, I’d have wanted a lot more than a bat and a ball and a betting tip from his interpreter. God knows how many millions Maris’s 61^st home run ball would now be worth.

“All that stuff’s gotten so out of hand with the memorabilia stuff,” said Kevin Maris, who’s the baseball coach at Oak Hall. “At the end of the day, it’s how badly somebody wants it.”

In 1961, it was $5,000. That’s how much California restauranter Sam Gordon paid Durante for the ball.

He’d told Maris the plan beforehand. Giving the Yankee his historic baseball would be great for business. Maris went along, but he could have just as easily accepted it after the game.

Durante was making $60 a week working in an auto parts store. He wanted to go on a double date to the last game of the ’61 season but was broke.

His fiancé paid $10 for four tickets. That will now buy you half of a hamburger at Yankee Stadium.

Gordon’s payout would be worth $52,000 these days. That paid for Durante's honeymoon and jump started his adult life.

“He was a good guy, a down-home New York kid,” Kevin said. “He was just fortunate enough to jump up and grab the ball.”

Mark McGwire’s 70^th home run ball in 1998 was sold for $3.05 million. Maris had the ball when he retired and moved to Gainesville. It’s hard to say how much the iconic No. 61 baseball would have appreciated, but it never really mattered.

He gave it to the National Baseball Hall of Fame in 1973.

“We didn’t get anything in return,” Kevin chuckled. “Bless our hearts.”

They got nothing monetarily, at least. They did get the satisfaction of knowing fans will forever be able to go to Cooperstown and gaze upon history.

That was important to Maris. When businessmen in his hometown of Fargo, N.D, wanted to build a museum in his honor, Maris had one condition.

Admission would be free.

If the movers and shakers in Ohtani’s hometown of Mizusawa, Japan, want to build him a museum someday, maybe it’ll be free. I kind of doubt it if the Dodgers are involved.

They did invite Roman and Valenzuela back last week. The couple got primo seats, more memorabilia and an audience with Ohtani.

So that still turned out to be a good little story. Sort of.

It’s just too bad it had to go through the modern-day money wringer. We’ve come a long way from 1961, when guys like Maris and Durante weren’t primarily looking out for themselves.

Bless their hearts, they were looking out for everybody else.

David Whitley is The Gainesville Sun's sports columnist. Contact him at dwhitley@gannett.com. Follow him on X @DavidEWhitley

This article originally appeared on The Gainesville Sun: Dodgers needed Roger Maris's touch with Ohtani's blast