Get an invite to the Asdrubal Cabrera going-up party?

Base Paths missed that memo, too.

The sullen infielder went back up to Cleveland last week after two months in Buffalo during which he spurned all requests for interviews. That’s quite a parlay for a guy who earlier recorded one of baseball’s rarest feats, the unassisted triple play.

Baseball is partly public relations. If Base Paths had a club he would insist that all player contracts include a “must talk” clause. Not much. Just a little. The Bisons’ extraordinarily efficient public-relations staff makes it easy. Five minutes and you’re gone. Is that too much to ask? Evidently.

Cabrera and all his fellow pouters would do well to read a few chapters of Chris Coste’s “33-Year-Old Rookie.” Long before he knew how to give signals with runners on second, Coste knew how to play the media. In his improbable climb to “The Show,” he shamelessly enlisted sportswriters as allies. It’s hard to “get on” even a substandard ballplayer when he’s hustling every day and giving you a quote.

So, so long, Asdrubal, we hardly knew ya’. Nor did we want to. Enjoy Cleveland, and next year, may you discover Columbus.

GO JONNY GO: Base Paths just envies the heck out of Niagara-Wheatfield and Niagara U’s Jonny Smith, getting to spend a month of baseball in North Adams, MA.

A remote outpost at the intersection of two of the most nearly impassable roads in the Northeast (you could look it up), the North Adams Steeplecats play to a locked-in audience in a terrific league of which Fay Vincent was recently commissioner.

Joe Wolfe Stadium ranks among the most scenic in the country, although Base Paths did see it as its finest, its spindly skeleton etched witchily into a fogbank. But amid all the trees and hills, there’s still the framework of industry come and gone. North Adams loves its Steeplecats. Attendance rivals many teams in the lower minors.

About a half-mile from the ballpark stands what used to be the Miss Adams Diner. It’s since been sold to out-of-towners trying to specialize in fresh seafood. They’d better have the seagulls drop ‘em in, there’s no way the trucks are going to get there.

In the Miss Adams’ heydey, like 10 years ago, its signature dish was the Jonny Cake, a breakfast holdover from the Revolutionary War. How nifty to play in a little town where folks were ordering you for breakfast.

Incidentally, he’s no relation to Base Paths, even though his Dad is named Doug Smith. Enjoy the rest of your summer, Jonny Cake, you did good.

Signals back to Base Paths at pollyndoug@hotmail.com.