My `Marlins Man' Mirror

In the second row behind home plate at last night's World Series opener, the world's most attention-hungry fan couldn't take his eyes off his phone. Annoying! But it also reminded me of someone else.

I waited until now, on this second night of the World Series between the Los Angeles Dodgers and Toronto Blue Jays, to send this column. I wanted to see if Laurence Leavy would show up behind home plate again.

So far, so good…three batters into the game, there's no sign of him.

If you caught the series opener last night, you might know Leavy by another name: “Marlins Man.” That’s the rather mundane, but natural, nickname that’s been conferred on the 69-year-old Florida man who wears the bright orange uniform of the Miami Marlins wherever he goes.

And because hardly anyone else wears anything remotely that gaudy, he always sticks out. Coupled with an orange Marlins visor, his simple attention-getting choice has been integral to bringing Leavy a measure of notoriety—a blend of fame and scorn, it seems. His Wikipedia page is only a hint of all the attention he’s attracted over the years.

For the past 13 years, this wealthy attorney has conspicuously shown up on television cameras as he sits in prominent spots at the World Series, NBA Finals, Super Bowl and an assortment of other contests. In the past, I’ve seen him plenty of times but never really paid close attention. But last night, after he took his second-row seat in the top of the second inning, would prove to be different.

What was so compelling about him this time? I couldn’t take my eyes off Leavy because it was clear that he couldn’t take his eyes off his smartphone.

Even factoring in that he wasn’t in his seat in the first inning and stepped away for a while after the Blue Jays’ nine-run outburst in the sixth inning, that meant he showed up on my screen easily over 200 times (there were 327 pitches overall).

During the ninth inning, a familiar sight: Marlins Man, head down, eyes on his smartphone.

In addition to watching the on-field plot, I began tracking a vignette of my own making: would Marlins Man be on his phone next time the camera angle shifted to display him? Would he still be looking down when the pitcher hurled the baseball? Or would he glance up just in time to see the action?

When I first saw this playing out, I snickered. What’s wrong with this guy? Can’t he just be in the moment? He’s paid how much money to be in that spot and he can’t get off his phone?

More context for the photo above: the best player in the universe, Shohei Ohtani, is at the plate. And Marlins Man is on his phone for approximately the 100th time.

But those ruminations reflect a well-documented brand of blindness. Rather than seeing the plank in my own eye, I was judgmentally seeing this fellow’s speck.

You see, Marlins Man is a mirror to my all too frequent penchant—or compulsion might be the more apt word—to pull out my phone and check my email, see if anyone’s texted me, to look up a random fact, or to plunge down some other rabbit hole.

I’m in traffic and at a red light? Time to pull out the phone. In the middle of church service, a random thought pops in my mind—well, God won’t really mind if I sneak a few moments to look it up, will He? At the grocery store? Well, I really better stay on top of my phone for any last-second shopping audible that my wife delivers.

I’d venture to say this pull to check my smartphone comes over me at least 25 times a day. Maybe double that on some days?

I have the phone volume turned all the way down so there’s no dinging or ringing or buzzing that pierces the air. But my internal clock tick-tick-ticks so loudly that I find myself filling lulls in my activity with this retreat to my phone.

Look, Ma - no phone! With visor tilted to the side and making a curious gesture with his hands, Marlins Man has set his phone aside as the game nears its conclusion.

And for Marlins Man, the 15 to 20 seconds between pitches in Game 1 of the World Series, was evidently too long for him to go without immersing himself back in his phone on a regular basis.

Incidentally, according to his Wikipedia page, last night was Marlin Man’s 10th time at a postseason Major League game this past month. I hadn’t seen him once, partly because I’ve been listening on the radio for much of it. But I’ve also seen parts of several of those contests.

Maybe I’ve been distracted by something?

There’s a term for what I’ve been describing: Problematic Smartphone Use (PSU).

Although I’ve tried to have some levity in acknowledging my own challenges in this area, the problems associated with it are no laughing matter.

According to this Psychology Today story, the fallout can include heightened anxiety, depression and feelings of loneliness. The story also offers practical tips, toward the end, “for fostering a healthier relationship with your digital devices. At their core is a simple premise: Use your phone consciously, not compulsively.”

I encourage you to check it out. Even if it’s via your smartphone. And go, Blue Jays!