A “Dr. Evil” Conspiracy?

Updated: January 29, 2019

By Hamish Campbell

Evening News Staff Writer


A Special News Investigation

Edinburgh, Scotland – A curious trade between Scotland and the Aurora Borealis may have been spurred by a blackmail attempt to keep quiet details of a doping incident in the past of a Claymores team official.

The transaction in question involved the April 17 exchange of the Claymores’13thround selection in the upcoming amateur draft for a little-regarded first base prospect named Jimmy “Dr. Evil” Peterson.

Sources close to the team say that Peterson, 25, worked as a batboy for a now-defunct independent minor league baseball team in Texas at the same time that Claymores Assistant General Manager Harry Kevern worked there in the front office.

Further, sources allege, Kevern once directed Peterson to spike the Gatorade cooler of an opposing team with a psychedelic drug known as Ibogaine. The drug left many of the players incapable of lifting their bats off their shoulders and, once in the field, staring at their hands and remarking on the pretty colors instead of snaring line drives blasted their way.

Sources say umpires called the game in favor of Kevern’s team – the Klein Kardinals – after an inning-and-a-half.

“I remember that game like it was yesterday,” said one former Kardinals player, who asked not to be named. “We was playin’ the Tomball Titans and it seemed like half their team could hardly stay awake. They was OK during warm-ups, but then they drank that Gatorade and kinda stumbled out into the field and just stood around – even when the ball was hit to ‘em.

“We was up something like 19 to 0 after two innings, and the umps stopped it – said the Titans were either too sick or too stoned to play.”

Peterson, according to former Titans Manager Clem Hoskins, seemed gleeful at the turn of events.

“There were people who saw him hanging around the dugout where that cooler was sitting before the game,” Hoskins said. “And then after the game started, and everyone could hardly stay awake, he was kinda laughing real creepy-like and had his little pinky up to his lips like that Dr. Evil fella in the Austin Powers movies.”

Indeed, sources said, Peterson’s nickname stems from that day – an allegation that drew his scorn during an interview last week.

“Somebody throw me a frickin’ bone here,” Peterson said in the clubhouse of the Inverness Highlanders, the Claymores’ AA affiliate. He laughed and raised a pinky to his lips, but then caught himself.

“I don’t know what ol’ Clem is going on about, but none of that is true. I don’t even know what that stuff is. Ibogaine? He’d better zip it – I could sue him for … One Million Dollars!”

Peterson then cut off questions: “Talk to the hand, ‘cause the face don’t wanna hear it anymore.”

Despite the denials, sources in the Claymores front office say they believe Peterson knew that Aurora was close to releasing him, and so threatened Kevern with exposing the incident. That, they say, prompted the Claymores assistant GM to advocate for a trade that would save Peterson’s career, but made little sense for the Scottish.

In fact, the Claymores’ assessment of Peterson – prepared by Scouting Director Yuji Nakayama and supplied to The News by a club official who asked not to be named – concludes that Peterson “likely won’t provide any value at the big league level.”

Even so, sources said Kevern seemed almost desperate in advocating for the trade with General Manager Vic Caleca.

“It made no sense – I mean, look at Peterson’s record! He stinks,” one Claymores source said. “But to hear Kevern talk about him, he’s the reincarnation of Babe frickin’ Ruth. Harry was practically on his hands and knees begging Caleca to make the deal.” 

Kevern declined all comment last week, referring questions to Caleca, instead.

“Well, I’m sure Clem Hoskins is a fine man and a fine baseball manager, but he is mistaken on this,” Caleca said during an interview over Skype from his Central Indiana office on Monday.

Would the Claymores consider severing ties with Kevern, given the serious nature of the allegations?

“Fire Harry? Don’t be an idiot. He’s a baseball man of substances … substance, I mean,” Caleca said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a bag of Shh! here with your name on it.”

Ibogaine, the substance in question, is admittedly obscure, but had a brief moment of infamy in the U.S. presidential campaign of 1972. Gonzo journalist Hunter S. Thompson wrote a facetious dispatch for Rolling Stone magazine theorizing that Democratic candidate Edmond Muskie had developed an Ibogaine habit. 

Thompson wrote that it was the most plausible explanation for Muskie’s dull and lethargic demeanor on the campaign trail.

Now, that same substance is at the center of, arguably, the biggest scandal in Claymores history.

Team owner Brad Kern promised to get to the bottom of the controversy. “Of course I’ll check into it. We don’t want to be surrounded by frickin’ idiots. It’s imperative that everyone in the Claymores organizations behaves!”

Stay tuned …