Official scoring in Jacksonville has been in the family for decades
There were hand signals to help decide the decision surrounding a hit or error, as well as a wild pitch or passed ball. The odd thing was that they were relayed from the bat boy on the field to the official scorer in the Wolfson Park press box.
It was 1996 and 13-year-old Jason Eliopulos had gotten a job as the Jacksonville Suns’ bat boy. His dad, Louis Eliopulos Jr., just happened to be the official scorer, in charge of recording and documenting the outcome of everything that happens during a game, which includes judging calls like hits, errors, wild pitches and passed balls.
“There were no replays in those days,” said Jason. “I’d be sitting there in a chair by the first base dugout and my dad wouldn’t be able to tell if it was a wild pitch or a passed ball. So he’d look down and we had hand signals, and if he wanted my opinion on a hit or an error, we had signals for that too. He’d look down and I’d look up and then I’d try to make it look like I was stretching.”
Jason would discreetly wave one hand over his head to signify a wild pitch or hit, with two hands marking the code for a passed ball or error. The signal system turned out to spark a curiosity in the younger Eliopulos.
“We’d ride home together, and he’d tell me, ‘Hey, you wouldn’t believe the conversation I just had with this relief pitcher trying to get me to change this call,” Jason said. “I got to see the politics a little from there.
“My dad and I had the automated scorebook, and we learned how to score together. We would take it home and practice on some Sunday night baseball games before the minor league season started.”
Jason took those learning sessions to work the Wolfson Park scoreboard in 1999 before transitioning to Jacksonville’s official scorer in 2000. He has remained the official scorer ever since, with the 2019 campaign marking his 20th season as the franchise’s official scorer and 25th working in some capacity for Jacksonville’s baseball club.
Jason estimates he has worked around 1,350 games as an official scorer and 1,600 overall. However, his run as a fixture at first Wolfson Park and now 121 Financial Ballpark might not have nearly come close to those numbers had it not been for John Shoemaker, who managed the club in 2001.
“I had a really good relationship with him, and I really think I’m still here because I had him as a manager,” said Jason. “I was 19 years old, and I didn’t know what the heck I was doing. But I knew that if Shoe brought up a play, it’s because I got it wrong. I owe a lot to him.”
The sheer nature of the official scorer role involves interacting with managers. Jason, who says he’s heard the official scorer role described as “the only people not in uniform who affect the history of the game,” understands how much his decisions up in the press box can influence the careers and livelihoods of the people on the field.
“Depending on what type of manager you’re dealing with, a lot of guys will bring up scoring decisions if it’s affecting an ERA or something,” Jason said. “The stats get these guys to the next level, and at the big league level, the stats get them to the next contract. It’s a big deal, and there’s so much gray area; sometimes I may see a hit, and someone else may see an error.
“I remember when (former legendary Dodgers manager) Tommy Lasorda was in town. It was the bottom of the 10th and it was 0–0. A guy hits one, it’s a real windy night and the left fielder overran it. It was a walk-off inside-the-park home run, but I blew it and called it a four-base error. So they don’t even wait for me to get downstairs. The phone is ringing, and the coaches are like, ‘I’ve got Tommy Lasorda right here and he’s telling me that’s a home run.’ Needless to say, I changed that one.”
For decades, minor league baseball has been a fixture in the Jacksonville and Duval County community. Jason has been a part of that for 25 seasons, in what turns out to be a continuation of a family legacy. Not only was his dad, Louis Jr., an official scorer, but his grandfather, Louis Eliopulos, once owned the Jacksonville Suns. Jason also has two uncles, Larry Groves and Mike Ondina, who have logged time playing for Jacksonville.
So, perhaps, more than watching extraordinary players on their rise to the major leagues and interacting with legendary figures speckled in the history of the game, what makes 25 seasons of Jacksonville baseball special for Jason is his family. It all started for him with some simple signals to his dad, and now with three young kids of his own, maybe the Eliopulos family tradition in Jacksonville will span even further.
“Jacksonville baseball is huge, it’s who I am,” said Jason. “My youngest son is playing ball now and coming to the games. Every time I think, ‘Hey, I should stop doing this and spend a little more time with the family,’ then I think, ‘They’re going to be teenagers, they’re going to be bat boys, and I’ll just keep the party going.”
