Pitching coach Mike Maddux agreed, who hasn't seen a kanagaroo court since he was a judge in Montreal, had another theory.

"Clubhouses today are a hell of a lot different than they were a couple years ago," Maddux said. "There is so much other entertainment available. When you were in places like County Stadium, Wrigley (Field) and some of those ballparks, you would look at each other and say "OK, what do we do? Let's sit around and fraternize." Today, you've got big-screen TVs, weight rooms, video rooms. You can sit around and you can go have gourmet dinners. There is more entertainment in front of you. You don't have to create your own fun."

Yount agreed.

"You were trying to find a way to pass time back then," he said. "There was nothing there. This is a country club, now. It's not the same at all. You picture this and what we used to clubhouse in, you do feel like you're in a country club now."

The amenities aren't the only fact, Yount said. Another is the loss of familiarity that has been caused by free agency.

"It used to be that you had four or five guys come in to the big leagues together at the same time and you play together four or five years and it helped with the camaraderie," Yount said. "You don't have the close teams like you used to.

"When it comes to kangaroo court, I think it's a rarity to have a team close-knit enough to want to do it. I don't know if it's thin skin so much. There is so much movement today you don't get a chance to know your teammates all that well. This (Brewers team) is a unique clubhouse in that way. It's a good group of people that blend well together. It's not that common in baseball today. I think it has to do with more movement. Nobody is around each other long enough to be that friendly.

"I think kangaroo courts can be pretty fun in the right circumstances, but it can also be counter-productive if it's not just right."

Brewers manager Ned Yost is a fan of cohesion, but not necessarily the kangaroo court.

"It's kind of stupid," Yost said. "A lot of times, it got so stupid, guys would get pissed. I never saw (the educational benefit). I guess it could be good."

During his days as a minor-league manager, current Brewers third base coach Dale Sveum required his players to have kangaroo court.

"We'd always have it on the road, because it was a nice way to break up a trip," Sveum said. "If the team was scuffling, I'd have it after a game and bring in a bunch of beer. We did it on the road so nobody was driving. You'd get the guys together and the beer was like truth serum.

"Guys would say "What the (bleep) were you thinking?" They'd say things that they may have been too scared to say in another setting. You get a lot accomplished, believe it or not."

Said Schroeder: "Kangaroo court was essentially just an opportunity to get everybody to be a team and not just scatter in 20 different directions right when the game ended. One thing you don't see very much any more is guys just sitting around after a game, having a few beers and talking about baseball. Sometimes you can learn just as much baseball after the game as you do out on the field. I remember in Cleveland, we'd stay so long after the game drinking beer and playing cards and taking baseball that the clubhouse guy would flip us the keys and say, 'Lock up when you leave.'"

Sveum and Schroeder were teammates in the mid-1980s, when veterans like Rick Manning ruled the kangaroo court and players were routinely presented with post-game "awards," which were an offshoot of court.

After every victory, the player of the game was presented with a traveling "trophy," that was actually a marital aid. When Juan Nieves was interviewed in the clubhouse following his no-hitter in 1987, the player of the game trophy was visible in his locker until an unidentified hand removed it from the camera shot.

"I think that was actually Harry Dalton," Schroreder said, referring to the club's general manager at the time.

Not all of the post-game awards were prestigious. There was a toilet seat for the boneheaded play of the game. There was a bat with a hole in it for players who struck out three or more times.

"It was usually for something that was screwed up," Sveum said. "If you made a bad defensive play, you got a big ball that was velcroed to a big glove. If you screwed up on the bases, you got a big huge pair of spikes to hang in your locker. If a pitcher gave up a long home run, he got a big baseball with a frown and a band-aid on it and he had to carry it on the road with him until the next game.

"The whole thing was a lot of fun."

Nelson experienced a similar situation with the Royals. "When I was in Kansas City,, we had the Gong Award," he said. "We were all on "The Gong Show" one day and we got the idea. If somebody screwed up or did something stupid, we'd hang it up in his locker.

It was a huge gong, and you had to keep that sucker there until whoever got it next. It wasn't for doing anything good. It was always for screwing up."

Now that he runs the Brewers' fantasy camp, Schroeder makes sure that kangaroo court is part of the program.

"It's always a highlight," he said. "It's a great bonding thing. Guys have a lot of fun. I just think that today, in general, people aren't willing to poke fun at themselves so much. We take things a little more seriously than we did a few years ago.

"We still tried to win, but we also had a lot of fun."