Homer hoedown
Cowboy hat symbolizing OSU baseball’s success
STILLWATER — Oklahoma State outfielder Cade Cabbiness put on his Wranglers and boots. He wanted an outfit to match the cowboy hat that had been sitting in his closet.
The hat was not meant to be worn, designed as a decoration piece with an accompanying saddle. Cabbiness snagged it at his parents’ garage sale, figuring he could make better use of it than whoever might pay their $2 asking price. With a doubleheader against TCU to close out March, Cabbiness thought the look could lighten the mood ahead of a long day.
“We’re gonna have some good things coming out today with this hat,” he told his teammates.
The hat made its onfield debut that night after the Cowboys won both games of that doubleheader to sweep the Horned Frogs. As Trevor Boone raced around the Allie P. Reynolds Stadium infield trying to avoid his teammates after a walkoff grounder, Cabbiness managed to catch him, smoothly placing the hat atop his head. Boone had backed up Cabbiness’ optimism from that morning.
“Boy, was he right,” Boone said.
None of the Cowboys predicted this much success, though. The hat has since adorned many Cowboys’ heads, a symbol of their offensive successes. When OSU batters return to the dugout after homering, they’re greeted with high fives and the hat, a reward system for leaving the yard.
Heading into this weekend’s series at Iowa, the Cowboys are 14-5, including 13-1 in Big 12 games, since Cabbiness decided to wear the hat to Allie P., with 27 of their 46 home runs coming in that span.
It’s another in a line of odd trinkets the team has associated itself with. The Rally Bass, a mas-
sive stuffed fish, has been called upon whenever OSU needs a rally for nearly a decade, though the team debated sacrificing it amid struggles last season. Utropolis, a small plastic dinosaur, used his “magic” to guide the Cowboys to the 2016 College World Series. OSU’s pitching staff has adopted a Hello Kitty backpack, a toilet-seated gnome named Iglesias and a King Kong action figure named Harambe as rallying items.
These odd baubles are not unique to the Cowboys. Rally Monkeys, Rally Squirrels and the like have made their rounds. But with dinosaurs and gnomes, backpacks and hats, it’s possible no team balances the oddity and the camaraderie better than OSU.
“Baseball players, forever, have always been a little bit squirrely, a little bit quirky,” coach Josh Holliday said. “This thing’s only worth doing if you’re enjoying it. It’s only worth playing, it’s only worth coaching if you’re having fun.”
The cowboy hat, the simplest of the Cowboys’ oddities, is the first that’s been designated as hitters-only.
“We’ve been begging for them to do something,” left-hander Carson Teel said. “I love seeing those guys with that cowboy hat, especially those guys who aren’t really country.”
It’s possible, in that sense, the hat has powers, too. When shortstop Matt Kroon wears it, he adopts a fitting personality, finding a twang the Arizona native didn’t know he had.
It’s hard for him to hold onto it, though. In an April 17 game against Oral Roberts, Kroon blasted a first-inning home run to center field. Before Kroon could fully enjoy the hat, Colin Simpson was coming back toward the dugout after hitting a shot of his own on the next pitch.
“I had it for maybe 30 seconds,” Kroon said. “I just walked out and put it on his head.”
The hat fits best on Simpson’s head. Nicknamed Tank for his diminutive size but impressive power, the Edmond Memorial product leads the Big 12 with 14 home runs, six of which have come since the hat’s debut. No other Cowboy has more than six homers all season.
Simpson would know better than any Cowboy but Cabbiness of the hat’s condition.
“That cowboy hat is a piece of crap, if we’re being honest,” Simpson said. “It’s a terrible hat. It’s a cheap hat. It’s really flimsy, and it’s already bent and broken.
“But we’re gonna keep it.”