San Diego's Jack Murphy Stadium had witnessed a wild pitch before July 25, 1990. But nothing like this.
Twenty-five years ago this week, sitcom star Roseanne Barr stepped to a microphone during the break between games of a doubleheader featuring the Padres and Reds. She sang. And all hell broke loose. A national anthem became a national headline. Off-notes became beat writers' game notes. A rote ritual of the pregame became province of the president.
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The scene, for some: television's transcendent star literally spitting on "The Star-Spangled Banner." For others: Barr being Barr. For all: a star-spangled spectacle.
At the turn of the decade, Barr reigned supreme on the sitcom landscape. Her hit show, "Roseanne," overcame "The Cosby Show's" four consecutive years as ratings king to become the new cash cow for ABC. In the period prior to that Padres game, "Roseanne" had averaged more than 21 million viewers per week.
San Diego didn't live in that same limelight. The Padres ranked ninth in National League attendance in 1990, drawing more than 1 million fewer fans than the division-rival Dodgers that season. And entering that July 25 doubleheader, San Diego stood 18 games back in the National League West standings, staring at a disappointing 41-54 record, mostly under manager Jack McKeon, who resigned July 11 but remained in a front office role. With offseason promises fizzled, an already laid-back, late-arriving fanbase had little reason for fanatic behavior.
But Tom Werner wanted to change that. The Hollywood producer of the Carsey-Werner Company had taken ownership of the Padres on June 15, replacing the Kroc family. "Roseanne" and "The Cosby Show" belonged to his company. But despite his connection to the stars, he also wanted to bridge the gap between the owner's box and the fans. He often sat in the stands, instead. But when he brought his two worlds together, that bridge collapsed beneath the boos that filled Jack Murphy Stadium.
The baseball story lines surrounding that game have since been lost to history. More than 2,500 miles away, George Brett of the Royals had just hit for the cycle. The Reds sat on the precipice of long-term greatness and a short-term slump. That summer would serve as the centerpiece of their wire-to-wire World Series run. That West Coast road trip would represent their worst stretch of the season, as they lost eight games in a row and saw their division lead dwindle from 11 games to 5 1/2. And a saga was brewing between Reds manager Lou Piniella and second-base umpire Gary Darling; 11 days later, Sweet Lou would say something that prompted a Darling-led defamation lawsuit.
Once Roseanne Barr sang the 33 bars of "The Star-Spangled Banner" in front of 27,000 strong, none of that mattered. The backlash would lead to Barr's brief disappearance from the stand-up circuit and a fear of public singing that persisted for more than a decade. Few who played or witnessed that doubleheader remember details of the game. But 25 years later, everyone remembers the Barr-Bungled Banner — not just a song, but a story of circumvented protocol, a sound problem, and perhaps, a player's suggestion that became a punchline gone wrong.
(The positions and professions listed next to the names in this oral history specifically reflect where they were July 25, 1990.)
Hal Morris, Reds first baseman: Occasionally, I will see reference made to Roseanne singing the anthem. And I imagine that people remember it was in San Diego, but I find it unlikely that anyone knows we were the team that was there that day. Probably the only guys that were aware of it were the players of Cincinnati, because we were there. Nobody ever really mentioned it again.
Until now.
BOOKING BARR
Greg Riddoch, Padres manager: Well, you know, our owner was Tom Werner who is the executive producer of Carsey-Werner, the Bill Cosby show, the Roseanne show and that kind of stuff. So I was not even aware. I don’t know who is singing the national anthem at any given game. I know I say a prayer, put my hat over my heart and salute the flag and God bless our country and all that stuff.
Andy Strasberg, Padres VP of marketing: I oversaw everything from pre-game ceremonies, which is what you’re interested in, promotions, advertising, advertising as it relates to tickets, season tickets, day-of-game tickets and incremental ticket sales for special promotions . . . People would send in a request and ask for the opportunity to sing the national anthem. Many people sent in a tape, a cassette tape . . . Then what we would do is review it.
Fay Vincent, Major League Baseball commissioner: It was a team-by-team basis. We had nothing to do with it. The only time we got involved was in the World Series, maybe in the league championships.
Strasberg: We had a special promotion: Working Women’s Day. One of our owners, Tom Werner, called me and asked me what I thought, if Roseanne Barr sang the national anthem on Working Women’s Day. And I thought it was a great idea because of the role she plays on television. I asked, “Can she sing?” And Tom said, “Don’t worry about it.” I said, “Maybe it’d be best if she did ‘Take Me Out to the Ballgame.’ And he said that she wanted to sing the national anthem and then the next thing I asked, which I asked everybody, is, “Can she pre-record it so that she can lip sync to a tape?” for the only purpose and intention of avoiding the challenge of the one-third second delay. It’s very difficult. It’s difficult to talk, much less to sing. And he said, ‘Don’t worry about it.’
Bip Roberts, Padres shortstop (usually third baseman/left fielder): We always had celebrities pop up from time to time.
Multiple requests to speak with Roseanne Barr went unanswered by her manager, as did direct Twitter communication from Sporting News. Tom Werner, now chairman of the Red Sox, declined to speak to Sporting News through club representatives.
Roberts: I think he was just trying to bring the Padres some type of, I guess, new identity. We went from the Krocs to Tom Werner and these guys came in and it was just a different regime.
Riddoch: I never did hear her practice that afternoon. Usually you hear them every day at about 5 o’clock practicing singing it a couple of times with nobody in the stadium.
Strasberg: That was not true then. The reason I know that for a fact is because you’d have to bring in the scoreboard crew to turn on the equipment and to set up the microphone. And as I just explained to you, there’s no need to do that because people are lip-syncing.
Morris: When you’re playing, you hear the anthem like 200 times a year. You see a lot of interesting things with the anthem throughout the course of the year.
Morris and his fellows on the field soon realized this anthem wouldn't fade into the realm of forgotten anthems past. From the start, something seemed different; something seemed off. And as quiet awe overcame the players, something closer to outrage overcame the people.
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THE ROSE-ANTHEM
Riddoch: I meet (Roseanne) before the game in the dugout, take pictures with her and all that stuff. So now the game gets ready to start and the national anthem gets ready to start and I see that she is going to home plate to sing the national anthem.
Calvin Schiraldi, Padres starting pitcher: I was ready. I was in the dugout by then. She went out and I was just kind of sitting there, waiting on her to do her thing. Then she started screeching. And I went, "Are you serious?"
Morris: Typically during the anthem, I’d try to gather my thoughts and start to just focus on the game that day, whoever was pitching and just take some real quiet time. Sometimes I would say a prayer. Who knows what. But that particular day, I think it was apparent pretty quickly that Roseanne’s singing was a little off. That her pitch wasn’t right. I don’t know anything about singing, but it was off note. I think that probably got our attention pretty quickly . . . then I was watching. I turned and was paying attention, which I typically wouldn’t do when the anthem was being sung.
Roberts: What I normally do for the national anthem is I can hear it, but I’m also praying. I have my head down and my eyes closed. I can hear it. I know the chorus. I’ve heard it a million times. I know how long it lasts. And I can hear it, but I’m also getting myself to the highest level of concentration I can get to, because that’s my last chance to get myself ready before the game.
Marty Brennaman, Reds broadcaster: We were on the air when it happened.
Riddoch: Freddie Lynn, one of my outfielders, and I, we’re kind of engrossed in a personal situation that he was having. So, as I was just listening to him, she began to sing and your first thought when you heard her voice was, "She’s probably not a real good singer."
Strasberg: I was sitting with a sponsor and quickly realized what was happening. At the conclusion, I quickly turned to the sponsor and said, “I’ve got to go back to work.”
Morris: My impression was that she started to sing the anthem, and she wasn’t probably the most talented singer. And I think the crowd’s perception was that she was doing that on purpose. They started giving her negative feedback, booing her a little bit. So she played to the crowd a little bit and kind of exacerbated her singing.
Roberts: San Diego was a military town, and you cannot play with the national anthem. You just could not do it. (Laughs.) And it backfired. Roseanne is probably really a nice person. I don’t know her. You just don’t play with the national anthem in San Diego.
Steve Rippley, first-base umpire: We (immediately) knew it was a disaster. All four of us were standing there, not too far away from her.
Ed Rapuano, the home plate umpire for the second game that evening, declined to speak with Sporting News about the Roseanne-them through MLB representatives.
Strasberg: It was my speculation that she was tripped up by the delay. So that was the first problem. And as a result of that, she was trying to speed up singing and she was trying to catch up with the delay, which obviously you can’t do.
Rippley: It wasn’t too far into it. Her voice, originally, was scratchy and all that. And I don’t believe the wordage to the anthem was correct. It was a disaster.
Gary Darling, second-base umpire: She was embarrassed.
Strasberg: What Roseanne did was absolutely, positively misconstrued by the fans. She put her fingers in her ears . . . the fans perceived that, in my estimation, as meaning that she was trying to block them out. She wasn’t. She was trying to block out the delay. So at this point, everything made sense to me. She was not being disrespectful. She was just not capable of singing.
Morris: I have a lot of respect for anyone that goes out there and tries to sing the anthem in front of a crowd like that at a major league game. I just thought that her singing chops weren’t probably the greatest. I think, initially, I had empathy for her.
Brennaman: That’s a laid-back city and it’s a laid-back fanbase that they have. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen — and I’ve been traveling in that town, this will be the 42nd year — I don’t think I’ve ever seen a San Diego Padres crowd react the way it did that night. I know I’ve never seen a San Diego Padres crowd react negatively toward one of their players or toward a player on the other club, unless there was an altercation between the two teams. Short of that, that’s about as laid back a crowd as there is in baseball. Most importantly of all, it’s a military town. So it probably hits a little bit harder for those folks because you have such a high percentage of the military in San Diego. They voiced their dissatisfaction with her very quickly.
Roberts: I don’t know if it was a sellout, if it was 10,000. But it sounded like it was 50,000. We never had that happen. I don’t remember a reaction like that as long as I was there. San Diego is usually laid back. If you get a hit, they’re loud. They may boo, but not like that. Not like that.
Morris: Sometimes, the crowds will make light of people performing the anthem, but typically they understand that it’s a vulnerable moment for the people singing — especially for children and other folks who aren’t professional entertainers; they kind of try to help them get through the anthem successfully . . . that was kind of a unique reaction from the crowd that day.
Brennaman: There seems to be a thing that has gone on for forever and a day that people start to make noise or cheer or whatever the case might be toward the end of the anthem, and they took that as an opportunity to essentially boo the hell out of her.
Roberts: When she started singing it, at first, they were giving her the benefit of the doubt. And then I started hearing chords of boos. Then it started turning to, just like, this nightmare for her. Then when she finished, she grabbed her crotch and spit. And they lost it.
Schiraldi: I don’t know if you have fire ants up where you’re at, but the fans were like fire ants that got disturbed. You had people running down from every aisle on every deck to voice their opinion on what she was doing. I thought that was quite comical.
Strasberg: The last thing she did was as a result of the suggestion of (Padres catcher) Mark Parent. Mark thought she should act like a player and grab her crotch, and spit, like most baseball players. So he was trying to be helpful and trying to make it funny. Well, she did this at the end of the song. That was also, absolutely, positively misconstrued, but understandably so, by the fans.
Parent, now on the White Sox's coaching staff, declined to speak with Sporting News. He did, however, dispute Strasberg’s story through a club representative, who claimed Parent, in fact, “told Roseanne Barr not to act like a ballplayer and don’t scratch and spit. She took it upon herself to do it, trying to be funny.”
Roberts: I just remember the eruption. Ohhh. I was just like, "Ohhh, my God. Oh, no." This is all bad, you know? Just in my mind I was thinking that, "Oh, no." And knowing that San Diego is a military town, man, it was just bad. I felt sorry for Roseanne, ‘cause I don’t know if she was just mimicking what she thought baseball players did, or what.
Schiraldi: I’ve only seen that once before, and that was at Shea Stadium when I first got called up when there was a fight between the New York Fire Department and the New York Police Department and there were attendants from throughout the entire stadium, you could see them running down the aisles to get to that fight. That’s exactly what this looked like.
Rippley: I don’t believe our faces showed anything. My partner, Bruce Froemming, he said when it was all over with that we should’ve went and grabbed the microphone, kind of like when Rick Monday went and grabbed the flag. It was just disrespectful.
Roberts: I’m seeing everything that is happening. The crowd is going crazy. She’s grabbing her crotch. She’s spitting. And oh, God, no, now the reaction is like five times worse. Nobody threw anything. Nobody tried to hurt her. But they booed. Their reaction was severe.
Brennaman: Out of respect for the national anthem, we let her finish. We didn’t break in just because her rendition was so brutal. But we certainly had things to say after it was over with. I just said on the air, "It’s the worst rendition of the national anthem I’ve ever heard." I thought it showed a distinct lack of respect of the anthem.
Darling: To sing the national anthem, to try to be one of the boys, scratching their privates and spitting. I don’t think it was any disrespect to the flag or the country or anything like that. It was just, you know, she thought she was being funny. But sometimes funny’s not funny.
Rippley: I’ve never seen it presented as a comic anthem. I think she, when she did the spitting and grabbing of the crotch, I think it was a bad punch line that went wrong. That just added insult to injury as far as I’m concerned. She did a brutal thing singing the song, and when it was over with, I don’t think people understood her antics.
Morris: You’re getting prepared for a game, so it goes one ear and out the other. But I didn’t find it disrespectful at the time. I know there was a lot of reaction at the time, that people thought that was the case. But that wasn’t my impression.
Brennaman: It was pretty much back to business (for the Reds), immediately. Ballplayers are rather single-minded when it comes to what they do for a living. They’re not going to dwell on anything for long when they have a job to do.
Morris: We just kind of looked at each other like, ‘Wow, that was different.’ Then we just got ready to play. I don’t remember chatting about it with the other guys.
Schiraldi: It was immediate. Once the anthem is done, you get back, you focus on the game. It didn’t really affect me that much. You just go, "Well, that was pretty odd," forget about it, and go on.
But the media and a captivated country would not forget about it. They would not move on. With the anthem unfolding on camera and the normally sedated San Diego stands transforming into a scene straight out of Veterans Stadium, Padres executives knew they had to enter damage-control mode as Werner huddled with them immediately following the anthem. The game became secondary to an impending controversy — a word rarely synonymous with a team fronted by media darling Tony Gwynn. Strasberg would call it, "without question," the biggest PR hit during his Padres tenure.
SHOCKWAVES IN SAN DIEGO
Strasberg: I needed to find out what was going on and I saw what the reaction was. I needed to find out what the ball club was doing as a result of that.
Schiraldi: When she did what she did, it was like, "Oh, my gosh." Then she came in the dugout. I wasn’t really paying attention. Some of them gave her handshakes. Some just looked at her like, "What the hell just happened?"
Strasberg: (The media) wanted to interview somebody. They wanted an official word. I pretty much made the decision that the person that I felt — and I’m not proud of this — that the person that I felt would be the best individual to send out to the media was Ron Seaver. Ron worked for me. He was a smart, intelligent guy and had limited knowledge as to what was going on, other than the obvious. So I just advised Ron, the media wants to talk to you. "Do not lie, just answer to the best of your knowledge." That’s what he did.
Ron Seaver, Padres promotions director (to reporters that night): The Padres understand that many people were concerned about Roseanne Barr’s rendition of the national anthem. She was doing the best she could under the circumstances of the audio delay and she certainly meant no disrespect to the national anthem.
Seaver, founder and president of The National Sports Forum in San Diego, declined to speak with Sporting News.
Tom Arnold, comedian and Barr's husband (to reporters that night): She sang the best she could.
Rippley: She was married to Tom Arnold at the time — Arnold was in the area, I don’t remember where he had positioned himself — when she got done with it, they walked by us to get out, to get into the tunnel, and she says, "We’ve got to get out of here before they kill us." I don’t know if that’s the exact quote, but the wordage was something like that.
Arnold, through his publicist, decided not to participate in this oral history.
Darling: Her show was a hit at the time and she was just trying to be funny. It was one of those things where it’s all fun and games until someone gets their eye poked out. I don’t know exactly what she was thinking ahead of time, obviously, but I don’t think she expected the reaction she got.
Roseanne Barr (to KFMB-TV, on the field): I think I did great and people wanted more.
Padres president Dick Freeman (to reporters at the time): While Roseanne has indicated she did her best under some very difficult circumstances, it is apparent we did not do our part because many fans were offended both by the rendition and Roseanne’s gestures. To those fans, we apologize and make the commitment that in the future we will strive to see that the anthem is presented with the dignity it is due.
Eric Show, Padres pitcher (via SI’s Tim Kurkjian): For once I find myself in harmony with public opinion. Usually, I find that to be an indictment. But (Barr’s performance) was an insult to the song and all the people who died for what we have left of freedom.
Tony Gwynn, Padres right fielder (to reporters, postgame): I thought it was a disgrace. When they said she was going to sing the national anthem, I thought something like this was going to happen.
Fred Lynn, Padres outfielder (via SI’s Tim Kurkjian): It’s the worst I’ve ever heard. You don’t mess with that song.
Vincent: I don’t know what her problem was that night. I don’t know whether she was on some sort of abusive substance or what, but it was a sad event.
Tom Werner (at a Rotary Club luncheon the next day): Today marks the 40th day since our ownership group acquired the Padres. In front of this great audience, let me say that Noah, survivor of the great flood, had it easier.
Riddoch: I just thought that Mr. Werner was probably pretty embarrassed that he allowed her to sing the national anthem, then all of that stuff took place. It’s still in people’s minds. If you were there, or you heard about it, people still talk about it.
Oh, people still talked about it, all right. Free from the immediacy of Twitter, the Padres had hours before the backlash hit back pages and TV stations across the country. But when it came, it came without mercy. Columnists penned criticism that quickly escalated from patriotism to pure fat-shaming and personal attacks. The New York Post kept it relatively tame with their "Roseanne Barr-f" headline, but writers like James Taranto of the New York City Tribune competed for farm metaphors.
Taranto settled for sarcastically calling Barr "the porcine poet." Sporting News' very own Bob Verdi joked about Barr's "considerable breadbasket" and replaced almost every mention of her name with the "Miss Piggy" moniker before dishing his meanest metaphor: a three-way comparison between Barr, the Yankees and cash cows. Even Sports Illustrated's Tim Kurkjian, an almost criminally polite human being, led his Aug. 6 story with "The Fat Lady sang. Actually, she screeched." By the time the sun had risen in San Diego on July 26, local radio callers started demanding boycotts of Barr's show. According to the Los Angeles Times, phrases like "obnoxious pig" and "disgusting joke" graced the San Diego airwaves.
The aftershocks of Roseanne's anthem scattered strangely. The Oval Office commented, while the MLB office stayed silent. Media attention reached such heights that Barr had to convene a July 27 press conference. Yet most of the players, umpires and coaches that bore witness to the Banner never had to speak about it again. But one thing was clear: Roseanne's minute and a half at the mic had captivated a country. The story was going to last much longer.
BARR BACKLASH
Vincent: I felt bad for her, and I felt bad for the team and I felt bad for baseball. But I didn’t view it as something that was really going to cause any damage, except to her. I think it hurt her. Considerably.
The San Diego Chicken, mascot pioneer: I was booked in Toledo for the Mud Hens and didn’t attend the game. I only witnessed it on TV later.
Strasberg: I had predicted that this would be a topic of conversation, starting very early in the morning on radio traffic drive, and that morning radio would play with it. And that it would sweep across the country from the east coast to the west coast. That’s obviously what happened.
Rippley: Everybody knew it was going to be a big issue. You’ve got cameras around, you know it’s going to be a big issue. It wasn’t going to be buried in the back page. We knew it was going to be some kind of issue. When you had ESPN back in those days, you knew something was going to be made of it.
Riddoch: That’s all I heard about the whole rest of the year. Not about my Pads, how we were doing and all that stuff. But instead, "How did you deal with that?" "What do you think of that?" That was a long time ago. We’re playing our season now. Why are we talking about that? (Laughs.)
Brennaman: I don’t think I talked about it anymore the rest of the series. Once it occurred, from my perspective, it was over with. I didn’t see any reason to dwell on it a day after the fact.
Vincent: I saw the clippings the next day. I read about it. But I didn’t really get involved. It seemed to me like it was just something that was done locally. Tommy Werner was then the owner. I knew he would take care of it. So I don’t think I ever really talked to anyone about it. It was a non-event from my point of view. It was sad, and kind of an embarrassment to everybody.
Roseanne Barr (press conference, July 27, 1990): I’m not going to apologize for doing it, because I feel like it was the wrong choice for all of us to make. But not anybody anticipated (the reaction) would be this negative . . . You can all take this as fun or you can act like this is the worst thing committed by an American. I went down there with the best intentions. We thought it would be a fun, positive thing . . . I’m sorry I didn’t sing so good. How much more can I say?”
The San Diego Chicken: It was a deliberate act — not "bad singing" — of desecrating the anthem in contempt.
Barr (press conference, July 27): I feel unprotected by what happened. Everyone there knew for quite a few days that I was going to do it. They must have known I’m not the best singer in the world. If 50 people had called up and said, "Don’t do it," I wouldn’t have, but there were none.
Steve VanBuskurk, Veteran of Foreign Wars spokesman (via the Los Angeles Times, 1990): This was an insult to all Americans. Whether it was a joke or just very bad singing, it reflected very bad judgment.
President George H.W. Bush (to reporters): “My reaction is, it’s disgraceful. A lot of people in San Diego said the same thing.”
Former President Bush, through his media relations representative, declined to speak to Sporting News because he has retired from interviews.
Barr (to reporters): I’m sorry that I didn’t sing so good, but I’d like to hear him (President Bush) sing it.
Roberts: I was kind of sympathetic, because that was pretty harsh. I don’t know what the president said, because as a player, when things like that happen, we have our game to play. Our thoughts went straight to the game. But the rest of the world was like, "Whoa, wait a minute!" So as we tried to keep moving on, everyone else stopped and paid more attention to that. That’s how it goes in our world of sports.
Barbara Bush (via The Washington Post, 1990): Roseanne’s tough.
Thanks, Barbara.
ABC's statement (via The Washington Post, 1990): We believe and understand that Roseanne Barr meant no disrespect for the national anthem.
Robert Merrill, opera singer, Yankee Stadium anthem performer (1990): I almost upchucked my dinner. It was to me like the burning of the flag.
Roberts: The rest of it just fades away. I have no idea what I did that game.
Riddoch: The game I don’t remember. It’s just one of 162 plus spring training times 47 years, plus how many national anthems have I stood for when I was managing in the minor leagues? You know, gazillions, but those are still special because it’s my country. And when she did that, that’s why people remember it, because nobody goes out and dishonors the flag and the national anthem the way she did.
One of the only players to remember details of the actual game: Padres starting pitcher Calvin Schiraldi. And for good reason. Not only did Schiraldi pick up the win as the Padres beat the Reds 10-4, but he also hit a home run — one of just two in his entire career, a memory he calls "the greatest feeling in the world ... better than a win." But few others fixated on the pitcher's production at the plate. Countrywide, columnists, TV personalities and fans continued to react to Roseanne's anthem, wondering what could have possessed her to scream the words, to scratch her crotch, to spit. The scene would haunt her and Padres PR for some time.
Strasberg: There is an explanation (for Roseanne's actions). I want to emphasize: I’m not trying to defend me, the organization, Roseanne or anybody else. It was an unfortunate series of events that took place, but had a basis in logical thinking, to a degree . . . I explained what happened, but no one took the time to hear the explanation.
Instead, Roseanne's national anthem quickly became laughable before it became lore before it became lost to history. The few details given in the anthem's aftermath faded with time, until Barr's blunder became nothing more than montage fodder for look-back television programs. Before the Reds, Padres and Jack Murphy Stadium became the forgotten set pieces you can't see in the grainy YouTube clip. In today's time, a story like this gets ripped to shreds. The silliest of truths surface, but the story behind the story arises. Not so with Barr's "Star-Spangled Banner." But there was a Roseanne ripple effect: A trumpet player got the world as her stage, and perhaps, a backup player was spared from it.
But Roseanne wasn't spared. Once the subject of adulation and the "Domestic Goddess" moniker, she became equal parts a subject of ridicule. A cautionary tale.
ROSEANNE RAMIFICATIONS
Brennaman: I don’t think anything like that will happen again. I shouldn’t say that. I never say never . . . Those of us that were there that night will obviously never forget it. But I think it’s unlikely anyone will ever disrespect the anthem the way she did that night . . .
Rippley: With social media nowadays and the way it runs, which you’re well aware of, it would’ve been a different situation. It would’ve been all over. She’s probably on YouTube now, but it would have been the next day or three hours later. I think it would have been blown up a lot more.
Schiraldi: She would have been in a lot more trouble today than she was back then, just because of the nature of the way things are right now. But then, you look at it, you just go, "It was pretty stupid."
Rippley: I’m old school. Nothing’s changed. I wouldn’t want someone to do that today. There are other things you can be a comic at. I don’t think you should be a comic with the national flag and the national song. Somebody from a younger generation may not think it’s as bad as it was, but with my generation — I’m 61 — if anyone did it today, maybe I would approach it differently. Maybe I would have, like Bruce (Froemming) said, try to take the mic away from her.
Vincent: I did make a mental note that I would work hard to make sure that when we got to the World Series, we’d make sure we got really good people performing. It did lead to an interesting story. After that, I was in St. Louis and a trumpet player (Susan Slaughter) from the St. Louis Symphony came out and played the national anthem before a Cardinals game. I was there. And she played it beautifully — very straight, very simply. No big affectations. I went up to her afterwards and I said, “That was simply gorgeous. A beautiful rendition. Would you be willing to do it at the World Series if I invited you?” Well, she was thrilled. She said yes. And I invited her to do the national anthem at a World Series game in Atlanta. She did it. It was absolutely spectacular … I thought it was a great thing. She grew up on a farm in Iowa. Her father brought her home a beat-up trumpet when she was a little girl. It was very unusual in her day for a brass player to be a woman. But she was very good. And she said that what made it possible for her was the blind auditions, where you audition in front of these concert makers or professionals, but you do it behind a screen so no one can see if you’re male, female or anything else. She said that made it possible for her to make the trumpet section of the St. Louis Symphony. Now, she’s the leader of it . . . I thought that was really a direct result of the poor Roseanne fiasco.
Roseanne Barr (to CNN's Larry King, 2006): After I sang "The Star-Spangled Banner" so badly, after my tragic singing accident, after that, you know, all my stuff kind of like really got even more full blown and, you know, I got stage fright and, you know, I couldn't do standup anymore and let alone sing and all the other things.
Strasberg: The chances of (the sound delay issues, the Mark Parent suggestion) making it into your story, in my opinion, is slim. You know why? Because it doesn’t make good copy. But I’m of the opinion, lest I keep trying, if I don’t, it’ll never get out there. No one’s going to cover the fact that I’m trying to get this story out. No one’s interested in that.
But people have remained interested in the Rose-anthem, itself. For all of the details lost to time, the audio and video still get airtime. The story still serves as the first and foremost example of Star-Spangled Banners gone bad. Even The Atlantic recently broke down Barr's performance, and how the line between her working-class brashness and plain crudeness may have been breached by her "crotch-grabbing curtsy."
And somehow, the issue remains sensitive. Potential interviewees declined participation in this oral history as if it contained leaked CIA secrets. Tom Arnold wouldn't even touch it. But lost somewhere in making Barr an emblem of embarrassing anthems is the fate of Barr, herself.
She overcame her stage fright. She got back into standup. And 22 years after the Jack Murphy music massacre, she poked fun at herself at her Comedy Central roast.
For some, like Hal Morris and Bip Roberts, sympathy always seemed more sensible than vitriol. Barr was human, after all. A human perhaps entrapped by the character she'd been asked to play. Mark Parent denies having suggested Barr's spit-take. But maybe the character Barr played on TV played a part in the regrettable gesture.
As Riddoch said in a quote Yogi Berra would be proud of: "I’m not sure that the person you see and the person that they play is the same person that they are, because they play so many people."
And maybe if the joke begins with President Bush, the San Diego Chicken and a Padre walking into a Barr, that's the only possible punch line.