Belle of the Ballclub: Marla Collins’s Unusual Path from Cubs Ballgirl to Playboy Model

 

Smile. Tilt your head. Lean back. A little more. You’ve got it. Right there. Beautiful! Snap!

With each pose, each shutter click, Marla Collins crossed the line from Chicago Cubs ballgirl to Playboy model. Both paying roles relied on sexuality: one teased and implied, the other overt. And before you hyperventilate about “pornography,” know this: If Collins had it to do all over again, she would—no regrets. Her journey from Wrigley Field grass to Playboy’s glossy print proved to be a textbook case of life’s serendipity.

Born in 1958 in Evergreen Park, Illinois, and raised in nearby Oak Lawn, Collins grew up shy and quiet in the Chicago suburbs. Attractive but not outgoing, she became a high school pom-pom girl and did some pageant modeling, including a Miss Illinois contest, to help crack her shell.

As part of a “mixed family” of White Sox and Cubs supporters, Collins chose the latter, vigorously tracking the team and her favorite player, all-star shortstop Don Kessinger. She took her passion to the sandlots, too, playing games with her brothers and sisters.

Upon graduation, Collins searched for her true direction. She attended Marine Valley Community College in nearby Palos Hills for two years, earning a liberal arts degree, then entered Chicago’s Columbia College for courses in radio broadcasting and other subjects. “I was dabbling, jumping around, trying to figure out what I really wanted to do,” she recalled.1

Then, unexpectedly, Collins entered the White Sox’s orbit via her mother’s friend, Comiskey Park concession stands head John Studnicka, whose union sought a woman to run a beer and wine stand. After successfully interviewing, she began working there during and after her school term. As the only woman alcohol vendor, she became popular, raking in considerable profit from selling 12 kegs of beer per game.

Meanwhile, changes were underway with the crosstown Cubs that would capture Collins. In 1977, longtime owner Philip Wrigley died. His son, William, took over, stressing his family had no intention of selling the team or installing light towers atop Wrigley, baseball’s sole unlit venue. The “not for sale” sign fell in 1981, however, when he sold his franchise share to the Chicago Tribune, ending his family’s 65-year reign. With Wrigley out, former Philadelphia Phillies manager Dallas Green took over as executive VP. “Building a New Tradition” became the team’s marketing slogan, supported by frenetic action. Green abrasively declared lights necessary for the club’s survival and quickly remade the Cubs in his image—one that had propelled the Phillies to the 1980 World Series. He imported Philadelphia bench coach Lee Elia to manage and sportswriter Ned Colletti for public relations, and traded for rookie standout (and future Hall of Famer) Ryne Sandberg, shortstop Larry Bowa, and other players. This thorough house-cleaning sparked some fans’ hopes but made more cynical, tradition-bound ones cringe.

Sometime in 1981, Cubs administrative personnel visited Comiskey, where they approached Collins about becoming a ballgirl when the White Sox were out of town. Soon afterward, she met with the team’s director of stadium operations, Tom Cooper. Assured she could continue her vending job, she agreed to start in 1982 on a one-year deal for about $100 ($310 in 2023 dollars) per game.2

Collins, then and now, is unsure why the Cubs switched from using ballboys to hiring a ballgirl, but Green’s mission to freshen a musty organization was a likely factor. Oddly, the heretofore historically conservative club was following in the wake of one of baseball’s most iconoclastic owners, Charles Finley of the Oakland A’s. Always open to any promotion that would irritate his fellow owners and sell tickets, in 1971 he had stationed two comely, curvaceous, female high school students along the foul lines. They fielded foul balls and, between innings, served lemonade and cookies to the umpires. Clad in tight white shorts, green or gold fitting shirts, gold knee socks, and white shoes, Finley’s charges mixed baseball practicality with sex appeal, capturing the eyes of fans, players, and photographers.3“I wanted to get the female interested in baseball,” he once expressed, although winking that it didn’t hurt that most interest came from men.4

In April 1982, Collins made history by becoming the first major league ballgirl to work between the dugouts. Her responsibilities—good weather or bad— included chasing foul balls that dropped near the screens, handing extra baseballs to the home plate umpire, and retrieving rejected ones the umpires rolled toward her. Her “office” was a nearby stool, where she awaited the umpire’s signal to handle four or five dozen balls per game.

In all, it was a confined, unremarkable job. But Collins dramatically captured attention far exceeding her tasks. First, she was the only woman on the field. Second, the Cubs, a team historically impervious to on-field success, demonstrated better skill at selling cheesecake. Per guidelines, Collins was outfitted in a snug, pin-striped, team uniform-replica pullover shirt, even tighter, extremely high shorts, and socks and sneakers over her trim, 5″6′ athletic frame.5 Consequently, she provided a curious and sexy diversion for fans suffering through an abysmal fifth-place finish in the National League’s Eastern Division.

In essence, Collins went viral. Not just with ballpark fans but with iconic WGN-TV (cable television) announcer Harry Caray, a bespectacled bon vivant— part walking baseball encyclopedia, part carnival barker—with unparalleled skill in promoting the game, the Cubs, and himself. “He really got my name out there and got me noticed. He would ask, ‘Where’s that ballgirl? Let’s see what she’s doing.’ The Cubs weren’t doing well, so he’d say, ‘Let’s look over and see what Marla’s doing.’ Then he started doing it more frequently,” she explained.6 Noticed, indeed. WGN-TV’s national reach ensured coast-to-coast attention, resulting in better visual and name recognition than that of some Cubs. The station soon moved her closer to the visiting dugout: a better camera angle to feature her in the background when action focused on the plate.

With Collins’s exploits standing out like a diamond in a pile of coal, a mutual marketing no-brainer decision ensued to continue her role for another year, and two more after that. And so did a slew of endorsements, public appearances, and interviews, including one with local rising star Oprah Winfrey. She joined the Cubs Caravan, a collection of players, coaches, and executives who toured Illinois and spring training locations to sign autographs, take pictures, wine and dine, and otherwise connect with fans.

Amidst this building adoration, Collins juggled many jobs. “I was young and still trying to figure out what I wanted to do. I had a lot going on,” she laughed years later.7 She was a cocktail waitress at the Park West music venue. A Chicago Italian restaurant hired her to do lunchtime coat-checks, where she made $200-$300 ($576-$864 today) per shift. Meanwhile, she sampled college courses, pondering a potential career in radio. And she continued working at Comiskey until schedule overload led her to end the four-year position.

Collins’s income increased, but the connections were worth even more, transcending those with fans. “I got to know a lot of the players fairly well since I came through the aisles where they were and would hang out around the dugouts, especially when it rained. I talked and joked around with them,” she remembered.8 She met Cubs alumni such as Ernie Banks, Ron Santo, and her hero, Kessinger. And, being single, she accepted social invitations from George Brett, Keith Hernandez, Steve Sax, and Duane Kuiper.9 Nothing romantically serious developed, but her time with Hernandez proved invaluable as he introduced her to Jack Childers and his son, Mark, of Talent Network Inc., who became her agent in 1984.

Meanwhile, Caray remained Collins’s consistent promoter, even conducting interviews of her in the dugout during rain delays. “He asked all sorts of random questions. One time, he noticed my tattoo, a small rose on my right thigh. Not a lot of people had them at the time. He said, ‘Can we see your tattoo?’ I don’t know how he found out, but I ended up showing it to him,” she recollected.10 Living a block apart in Chicago’s historic Gold Coast district, she and Caray occasionally shared rides home and she met his wife, Dutchie.11

During the 1985 season, Caray went full tabloid. Learning that Collins was wearing an engagement ring, he hosted her on his “Tenth Inning” postgame show, requesting “All right, show America that ring of yours.”12 Which is how America—and Marla’s mother—found out she was engaged to Joe Evans, a real estate developer she met through a mutual friend while on a Cubs promotional assignment. Much like her fame, the engagement materialized unpredictably, happening weeks after they had met. Proving love can be blind, Evans was a die-hard St. Louis Cardinals fan who hated the rival Cubs.

The engagement put Collins at the crossroads. And so did the Cubs blanket pass to pursue non-baseball related promotional activities. At age 27 in 1985, she was time-limited as a ballgirl and, in an era before women sideline reporters or announcers, had no foreseeable future with the Cubs. Consequently, she decided to renew the role for 1986 at $150 ($409) per game, then move on. Looking for The Next Big Thing professionally and personally, and after refusing previous offers, she decided, without asking the Cubs’ permission, to pose for Playboy magazine. “My dad and Joe were okay with it. And my mom said, ‘Why not? You’re young. You’ll regret it if you don’t,’” she explained.13

Playboy had been founded in 1953 in Chicago—the “Third Coast” that “most genuinely expresses America as a whole,”—by Hugh Hefner, an unhappily married former Esquire copywriter.14 It eventually defined new standards of femininity via sexualized pictorials that also portrayed women in everyday life: the kind of woman you could encounter in your daily routine. Playboy redefined masculinity, too, gearing its content and philosophy to urbane, affluent bachelors (or those who aspired to be) with a taste for life’s delicacies: the forerunner of yuppies and metrosexuals.

The magazine played an important role in America’s decades-long sexual revolution, eventually growing into Playboy Enterprises, Inc., a cultural institution and empire of print and video enterprises, recreational clubs, charitable activities, and merchandise. Its interviews and occasionally nude photos of celebrities made headlines. Its name adorned the top of the Playboy Building, an Art Deco Chicago skyscraper that housed editorial and business offices.15

Nervously but bravely, Collins travelled alone to her June 1985 two-hour test shoot at Playboy’s headquarters. She was given scarves and skimpy clothing, “strategically placed, to pose in,” she chuckled retrospectively.16 Once she passed the audition, Childers helped her sign a $20,000 ($55,608) contract with incentives based on magazine sales and other considerations.17

Then came five days of photo-shoots. Each session introduced new color themes and staff-selected makeup and outfits, each filmed on different sets with strobe lights. Was she intimidated? You bet. “I started off shy because I’d never done anything like that. I’d go into a dressing room and come out to a room that had few curtains, so I’d wonder if people in nearby buildings could see me, but I was told that wasn’t the case.”18 Eventually, her comfort increased, especially since photographer James Schnepf and the 30-odd crew treated her respectfully and gave her final picture approval. Later, shots were taken of her while working at a Cubs game. A September 1986 end-of-season publication date was set.

But Playboy quick-pitched, releasing its September- dated issue in July. The magazine first appeared on the West Coast, where some Cubs saw it during a team road trip, reporting it to Collins upon their July 17 return. Consequently, she was apprehensive throughout the homestand, waiting for the hammer to fall. Her fears were well-founded. Upon arriving at Wrigley on July 22, she was whisked into meetings with Cooper and operations VP Don Grenesko, possibly Green. “Don’t you think it’s embarrassing for the organization,” Grenesko asked.19 Collins disagreed, replying that the photo spread was tastefully done. Her argument fell on deaf ears. Discussions continued without resolution before she was dismissed and walked to the door.

As game time neared, unsuspecting cameramen perched behind Collins’s seating area to get close up shots, waiting fruitlessly for her entrance. Finally, the Cubs announced her departure, tersely noting that the club did “not authorize nor does it condone or approve of [her] appearing in Playboy.”20 Cooper and Colletti referred to Collins’s firing as a mutual separation. Green and Commissioner Peter Ueberroth avoided commenting like a batter ducking a head-hunting fastball.

Playboy’s pre-publication predictions that its issue would supply a “little spice” and “get the Cubs some headlines about something other than their playing” were prescient.21 Reporters buzzed about, pursuing a story too titillating to ignore. Players, some of whom had asked for autographed copies, were generally supportive. “Everybody takes their clothes off now and then. That’s the best thing I’ve seen out of uniform all year,” Caray quipped.22 Knowing Collins’s situation, he relayed that she had been misinformed about the release date, intimating that Playboy knew the value of publicity and that a release after the season would capture less interest.23 He advised her to hire an attorney to fight for her job.

Collins had no employment contract with the Cubs. She also had no intention of pursuing litigation, but— per Childers’s recommendation—she defended herself in the court of public opinion. She camped out at Sluggers sports bar, a block from Wrigley, to field questions as deftly as Kessinger. “[Childers] said this was going to make a lot of publicity, and it sure did for a couple of days straight. The more issues sold, the more you made, so this was the best thing for Playboy and me. I talked with lots of fans and did tons of interviews. It was a crazy time,” she enthusiastically recalled.24 She insisted she wasn’t angry with the Cubs, had planned on leaving her position, was getting married in September, and did the Playboy shoot for business and personal fulfillment. She chalked up the Cubs’ objections to their “conservative ways” and the fact that she had sometimes captured more attention than the team.25

She also found the Cubs attitude “hypocritical.”26 “They said they didn’t want me as a sex object. I didn’t think that was true. They were the ones who told me to cut my shorts shorter and my tops tighter.”27 Newspaper opinion pieces—written by men, replete with double entendres and sexist drivel—differed on the Cubs’ decision, but agreed with Collins’s complaint. Pulitzer Prize-winning Tribune columnist Mike Royko summed it up best: “Of course it’s hypocritical. But hypocrisy is the very backbone of our sexual moral standards. Many of our outstanding bluenoses are secret lechers.”28

Collins and the press drew comparison to publicized cocaine abuse by players, for which no one was banned. They also made a more direct linkage to Caray’s broadcasting partner, Steve Stone, who had appeared semi-nude in Playgirl’s July 1983 issue. He had asked for and been given team permission to do so: an unlikely approval for Collins to have received for Playboy. And he was never reprimanded, let alone fired, a “double standard” Collins still finds confusing.29

Stone supported Collins keeping her job. His call went unanswered, though, as fully clothed grounds crew member Roger Baird, greeted by boos, was inserted as her temporary replacement. Two weeks later, the team introduced two young women, attired like Collins, to rotate as ballgirls until the season’s end.30 They were required to sign a Code of Conduct to prevent future indelicate developments.

Meanwhile, Collins was besieged with offers for interviews, autographs, positions at radio stations, and even full-time ballgirl employment. She accepted some invitations, signed Cubs memorabilia and, yes, Playboy issues. As for a full-time ballgirl position, no thanks. In August, she did, however, make a guest ballgirl appearance for the Class A Midwest League Madison (Wisconsin) Muskies. She received a warm welcome from the team’s president and 2,593 patrons, then sat near the Madison dugout, clad in tight white shorts and a green satin team jacket.31 Afterwards, approximately 100 attendees followed her for autograph and photo catches at the cleverly named Muskie Bait Shop souvenir stand.

Collins took interior design courses, obtained a two-year art degree, and eventually settled in suburban Barrington Hills. Her first daughter, Autumn, was born in 1989, followed by her second, Callan, in 1992. While raising her children, she trained for a career as an ultrasound sonographer. For almost 25 years, she has conducted gynecological and infant echocardiograms at a private doctor’s office. She and Joe divorced, but they remained friends and she was a caregiver when he died in 2012. She is on good terms with the Cubs and still a die-hard fan, although her attendance has dwindled over the years. She still honors baseball memorabilia autograph requests. Playboy, too, including a rare, seductive, fold-out poster contained in early editions, one of which she framed and hung in her basement bar for many years.

Collins’s outlook remains open-minded. “I go with the flow. One thing led to another. I’m not sure how, but everything fell into place. I believe ‘Do it now.’ If there’s something you want to do, you should just do it,” she replied contentedly when asked to explain her unpredictable journey across the baseball landscape.32

With modern eyes, Collins’s journey across Playboy’s landscape is equally intriguing. Objectively examining the 13 pictures contained in her “Belle of the Ball Club” eight-page layout, eight were taken at Wrigley, featuring Caray, an umpire, players, and her departure from the park. They are tame enough to be featured in a team yearbook. As for the other five, three reveal breasts and four pubic hair, all mixed with soft lighting, black lingerie, sparkling jewelry, and a permed mane of Flashdance-inspired 1980s hair that makes Collins laugh retrospectively. “I know this is nudity, but you almost see that much when I have a bathing suit on…. The string bikinis…on the market barely cover anything,” she said in 1986.33 True then and now.

Viewpoints on “pornography” are rarely objective, however, but rather engulfed in a swirl of political bickering, sexual mores and hang ups, religious dogma, body objectification, differing assumptions of women’s role, alleged harmful effects on children, the legacy of our Puritan and Pilgrim settlers, and the amorphous definition of “obscene.” Playboy has been part of this debate for seven decades.

Playboy’s circulation peaked at seven million (approximately three million of whom were women) in the early 1970s. But over the next few years, sales declined due to competition from more risque magazines and mass market, sexually oriented videotapes. Playboy’s brand and Hefner’s hedonistic lifestyle at his Los Angeles mansion also became somewhat passe.

The 1980s brought a cultural and political rightward tilt, exemplified by President Ronald Reagan’s administration, which viewed Playboy as a purveyor and symbol of moral decay. Collins’s pictorial timing could not have been more inopportune. Attorney General Ed Meese led a commission to report on pornography’s impact and make recommendations to the Department of Justice to curb it. He was supported by an unlikely alliance of religious organizations, focused on immorality and family values, and feminists alarmed by patriarchy and sexism.34 In April 1986, before the final report was issued, the commission’s director intimidated companies such as 7-Eleven and Rite Aid into removing Playboy and other soft-core magazines from their shelves. Playboy argued such conduct was forbidden under the First Amendment. In July, a federal district court agreed. Later that month, the “Meese Report” recommended several legal restrictions on pornography, but stopped short of listing Playboy among its cited pornographic titles.35

Hefner’s daughter, Christie, who became Playboy president in 1982, remarked, “The magazine presents women in a lot of different ways, depending upon what pages you are reading.”36 And, pre-Collins, those pages had contained insightful Playboy Interviews with baseball luminaries Earl Weaver, Henry Aaron, and Steve Garvey. But when Collins elected to control and enhance her own sex appeal, the Cubs balked. They made no such move when ace pitcher Jake Arietta posed naked (private parts covered) for ESPN: The Magazine’s 2016 “Body Issue.” Double standards persist.

The Cubs and America unknowingly whiffed on the real story in the September 1986 issue, hidden behind stylized images: 18-year-old centerfold Playmate Rebekka Armstrong. Likely HIV-positive since 16, she courageously announced her condition in 1994, led HIV/AIDS education efforts, came out as lesbian, and later claimed on 2022’s Secrets of Playboy #MeToo- inspired docuseries that on promotional engagements she was deceivingly sent out on dates, including one in which she was drugged and sexually assaulted.

Collins never went to the Playboy Mansion or met Hefner. And she never experienced harassment or vilification via mail, phone calls, or personal interactions over her decision to pose. In an age before being ratioed or bullied on social media, her experience was safe, profitable, professional, and uplifting. “The Cubs did what they felt they had to do, no hard feelings,” she reckons today.37 Many Americans appreciated Collins’s choice. Some shrugged. Others were offended. Where do you land on the spectrum? Your answer says more about you than it does about her. 

DAN VanDeMORTEL became a Giants fan in upstate New York and moved to San Francisco to follow the team more closely. He has written extensively on Northern Ireland political and legal affairs. His baseball writing has appeared in The National Pastime, San Francisco’s Nob Hill Gazette, and other publications. His article “White Circles Drawn in Crayon” (featured in McFarland Historic Ballparks 05: The Polo Grounds, 2019) won the 2020 McFarland-SABR Baseball Research Award. Feedback is welcome at giants1971@yahoo.com.

 

Acknowledgments

Heartfelt thanks are extended to Marla Collins for graciously sharing her memories of the Cubs and Playboy, and to Ken Manyin for his contributions to the finished article.

 

Notes

1. Marla Collins, telephone interview, February 20, 2023.

2. Collins’s starting yearly pay, assuming she worked all 81 games, was $8,100 ($25,112 in 2023 dollars). Under that same assumption, her 1986 annual pay was $12,150 ($33,165).

3. Debbie Stivyer’s sister was a secretary in the Oakland A’s office, which likely explains her hiring. She and Mary Barry were each paid $5 ($37) an hour. Their employment ended by 1975 because of several complaints from the A’s players’ wives. Stivyer went on to sell cookies locally, married the founder of the Fields Investment Group, and started her cookie business, Mrs. Fields Cookies, which grew to over 650 bakeries nationwide, 80 internationally.

4. Alessandra Stanley, “Among Baseball’s Ballgirls, Fielding Skills Take 2d Place,” The New York Times, July 5, 1991.

5. Collins’s flattering measurements were widely reported but are, respectfully, not conveyed here. Her uniform number changed each season: 82, 83, 84, 85, and 86.

6. In inclement weather, Collins wore Cubs-themed jackets, and either pantyhose or blue-striped pants to match her top and keep her legs warm. Which led Caray to remark, “Marla’s not wearing any pants,” when she removed them. Marla Collins telephone interview, March 8, 2023.

7. Collins interview, February 20, 2023.

8. Collins interview, February 20, 2023.

9. Brett (third base, Kansas City Royals), Hernandez (first base, New York Mets), and Sax (second base, Los Angeles Dodgers) were all-stars. Kuiper (second base, Cleveland Indians) was an average player, but later became a Ford C. Frick finalist award announcer for the San Francisco Giants.

10. Collins interview, February 20, 2023.

11. Collins later dined at Caray’s restaurants, attended his funeral, and spoke fondly of him years later. Collins interview, February 20, 2023.

12. “Belle of the Ball Club,” Playboy, September 1986, 75.

13. Collins interview, February 20, 2023.

14. Thomas Dyja, The Third Coast (New York: Penguin Press), 2013, xxxiv.

15. The building is now known as the Palmolive Building. From 1959-74, Hefner resided in the Playboy Mansion in Chicago’s Gold Coast district. He permanently relocated to the Playboy Mansion West, Los Angeles, in 1974.

16. Collins interview, February 20, 2023.

17. Collins estimates achieved incentives brought her total payment to $40,000 ($111,216), perhaps more.

18. Collins interview, February 20, 2023.

19. “Cubbies Let Ballgirl Go,” The Sun, July 23, 1986.

20. “Cubbies Let Ballgirl Go.”

21. “Chicago Ballgirl Wants to Pin Up Cub Hopes,” The New Mexican, July 23, 1986. The Cubs were 39-51 when Collins departed.

22. “Nice to Have Seen You Marla,” Centre Daily Times, July 23, 1986; Tony Weitzel, “Along The Trail,” Naples Daily News, August 29, 1986.

23. Pete Ryan, “Missing Marla…,” Albuquerque Tribune, July 28, 1986.

24. Collins interview, February 20, 2023.

25. Tom Friend, “The Naked Truth: Cub Front Office Finds It Can’t, Uh, Bare to Look at Its Ballgirl Anymore,” Los Angeles Times, July 23, 1986.

26. “People,” Maclean’s, August 4, 1986; Collins interview, February 20, 2023.

27. Brad Falduto, “Looking Good: Collins Wows ‘Em in Her Warner Park Appearance,” Capital Times, August 14, 1986; “So What’s The Meaning of Marla,” Capital Times, August 15, 1986; Collins interview, February 20, 2023.

28. Dave Wischnowsky, “Where’s Marla Collins? Well, She’s Right Here,” Kankakee Daily Journal, August 29, 2009.

29. Collins interview, February 20, 2023.

30. Airline stewardess Mariellen Kopp, 22, and office worker Kathy Wolter alternated in the position. They were paid $50 ($136) per game. Baird was deployed in the event both were unavailable for a game(s).

31. Bad weather kept attendance below Warner Park’s (also known as the “Fishbowl”) 6,750-capacity. Still, the crowd size doubled that of average Muskies games. Before Collins arrived, the Muskie Boosters sponsored a “buns contest,” in which fans cast votes for the unmarked photos of the backsides of 23 players. Infielder Tony Cabrera, the winner, received $25 ($68) and a trophy.

32. Collins interview, February 20, 2023.

33. Mike Fish, “National Pastime? Ex-Cub Ballgirl Now a Favorite Spectator Sport,” Kansas City Times, July 29, 1986.

34. Feminism fell into two categories: equity feminism (the movement for women’s legal and social equality) and gender feminism (contending women are prisoners of a patriarchal system and in a gender war with male oppressors). The former was milder and largely endorsed by Hefner; the latter drew his ire as they were more harshly critical. Although even Gloria Steinem, firmly in the equity camp, once wrote that “There are times when a woman reading Playboy feels a little like Jew reading a Nazi manual.” Steven Watts, Mr Playboy: Hugh Hefner and the American Dream (New York: Wiley), 2009, 241, 247, 372.

35. Meese released the report at a news conference held in the DOJ’s Great Hall. Ironically, he spoke in front of the “Spirit of Justice”: a 12-foot statue of a woman baring one breast.

36. Carrie Pitzulo, Bachelors and Bunnies (Chicago: University of Chicago), 2011, 126.

37. Collins telephone interview, March 8, 2023.