Baseball History Reader: Page 1
1. Tinker to Evers to Chance
Rob Neyer & Eddie Epstein, Baseball Dynasties
[A] couple of things about the "poem," published in
the New York Evening Mail on July 10, 1910. First of all the title is not "Tinker to Evers to Chance." Here's the verse as it originally appeared, along with its original title:
Baseball's Sad Lexicon
These are the saddest of possible words,
"Tinker-to-Evers-to Chance."
Trio of Bear Cubs fleeter than birds,
Tinker to Evers to Chance.
Ruthlessly pricking our gonfalon bubble,
Making a Giant hit into a double,
Words that are weighty with nothing but Trouble.
"Tinker-to-Evers-to-Chance."
--Franklin P. Adams.
For Frank Adams it was a "sad lexicon" because he was a fan of the New York Giants. In
fact, Adams wrote the verse because he was in such a hurry to get to the ballpark. As he later remembered, "I wrote the poem because I wanted to get to the game, and the foreman of the composing room ... said I needed eight lines to fill."
What exactly is a "gonfalon"? According to my dictionary, it's "a banner suspended from a crosspiece," so apparently Adams was saying that Tinker and pals were hurting the Giants' pennant chances with their double-play antics.
It's been fashionable in recent years to question the double-play skills of Tinker and Evers ...
To be sure, it's quite possible, perhaps even likely, [Tinker and Evers] (and Chance, too) might not be in the Hall of Fame if not for the poem. Their career stats simply are not typical of Hall of Fame players, even middle infielders. It's also true ... that from 1906 through 1911 the Cubs never led the National League in double plays. Individually, Evers never led N.L. second basemen in double plays, and Tinker topped N.L. shortstops in double plays only once .... Writing negatively of their Hall of Fame qualifications in 1999, USA Today's Tom Weir noted, "Despite the poetry, the three ranked as the National League's best double-play combo only once."
Well, there's more to playing the infield than raw numbers of double plays. The Cubs featured an outstanding pitching staff ... that permitted relatively few baserunners. In turn, that limited the number of double-play opportunities available to the Cub infielders.
So is there an easy way to evaluate the Cubs' double-play abilities given the statistics at our disposal? Yes, there is. Bill James has come up with a system to measure what he calls expected double plays for a team, based on (essentially) the number of runners the opposition has on first base and the estimated number of ground balls hit by the opposition....
.... Yes, the Cubs only tied for third in total double plays [from 1906 to 1910], which is nothing special in an eight-team league. But ... [they] turned 50 more double plays than expected, easily the most in the National League. So while Tinker and Evers never really dominated the National League in a single season, nobody could match their consistency .... [I]t also seems safe to say that they were probably the best of their era and an important factor in the Cubs' amazing run.
It's too bad that they couldn't have enjoyed each other a little more. It seems that Joe Tinker and Johnny Evers, paragons of keystone teamwork, once went upwards of two years without speaking to each other. In 1936, New York World-Telegram columnist Joe Williams got to talking with Evers about the old-time Cubs, and Williams asked if all the stories about the feud were true.
"That's right," admitted Mr. Evers. "We didn't even say hello for at least two years. We went through two World Series without a single word. And I'll tell you why .... [O]ne day -- it was early in 1907 -- he threw me a hardball. It wasn't any further than from here to there .... It was a real hardball. Like a catcher throwing to second. And the ball broke my finger .... I yelled at him, 'You so and so!' He laughed. That's the last word we had for -- well, I just don't know how long."
Other sources have reported that the feud actually began in 1905, when there was a mix-up over a cab the two were supposed to share. By all accounts, though, Evers was an incredibly high-strung fellow.
.... Frank Chance got so sick of listening to his irascible second baseman that he considered shifting Evers to the outfield. These days, I suppose you'd call Evers an extreme type-A personality, and he didn't really get along with anybody, which is probably why everyone called him "The Crab." Evers missed most of the 1911 season after suffering a nervous breakdown. Nevertheless, he succeeded Chance as player-manager in 1913, leading a disgusted Tinker to
demand a trade. After the season, Evers himself was traded to the Boston Braves, for whom he played a major role in their miraculous, World Series-winning 1914 campaign ....
As for Frank Adams, he reportedly thought his famous lines "weren't much good."
the New York Evening Mail on July 10, 1910. First of all the title is not "Tinker to Evers to Chance." Here's the verse as it originally appeared, along with its original title:
Baseball's Sad Lexicon
These are the saddest of possible words,
"Tinker-to-Evers-to Chance."
Trio of Bear Cubs fleeter than birds,
Tinker to Evers to Chance.
Ruthlessly pricking our gonfalon bubble,
Making a Giant hit into a double,
Words that are weighty with nothing but Trouble.
"Tinker-to-Evers-to-Chance."
--Franklin P. Adams.
For Frank Adams it was a "sad lexicon" because he was a fan of the New York Giants. In
fact, Adams wrote the verse because he was in such a hurry to get to the ballpark. As he later remembered, "I wrote the poem because I wanted to get to the game, and the foreman of the composing room ... said I needed eight lines to fill."
What exactly is a "gonfalon"? According to my dictionary, it's "a banner suspended from a crosspiece," so apparently Adams was saying that Tinker and pals were hurting the Giants' pennant chances with their double-play antics.
It's been fashionable in recent years to question the double-play skills of Tinker and Evers ...
To be sure, it's quite possible, perhaps even likely, [Tinker and Evers] (and Chance, too) might not be in the Hall of Fame if not for the poem. Their career stats simply are not typical of Hall of Fame players, even middle infielders. It's also true ... that from 1906 through 1911 the Cubs never led the National League in double plays. Individually, Evers never led N.L. second basemen in double plays, and Tinker topped N.L. shortstops in double plays only once .... Writing negatively of their Hall of Fame qualifications in 1999, USA Today's Tom Weir noted, "Despite the poetry, the three ranked as the National League's best double-play combo only once."
Well, there's more to playing the infield than raw numbers of double plays. The Cubs featured an outstanding pitching staff ... that permitted relatively few baserunners. In turn, that limited the number of double-play opportunities available to the Cub infielders.
So is there an easy way to evaluate the Cubs' double-play abilities given the statistics at our disposal? Yes, there is. Bill James has come up with a system to measure what he calls expected double plays for a team, based on (essentially) the number of runners the opposition has on first base and the estimated number of ground balls hit by the opposition....
.... Yes, the Cubs only tied for third in total double plays [from 1906 to 1910], which is nothing special in an eight-team league. But ... [they] turned 50 more double plays than expected, easily the most in the National League. So while Tinker and Evers never really dominated the National League in a single season, nobody could match their consistency .... [I]t also seems safe to say that they were probably the best of their era and an important factor in the Cubs' amazing run.
It's too bad that they couldn't have enjoyed each other a little more. It seems that Joe Tinker and Johnny Evers, paragons of keystone teamwork, once went upwards of two years without speaking to each other. In 1936, New York World-Telegram columnist Joe Williams got to talking with Evers about the old-time Cubs, and Williams asked if all the stories about the feud were true.
"That's right," admitted Mr. Evers. "We didn't even say hello for at least two years. We went through two World Series without a single word. And I'll tell you why .... [O]ne day -- it was early in 1907 -- he threw me a hardball. It wasn't any further than from here to there .... It was a real hardball. Like a catcher throwing to second. And the ball broke my finger .... I yelled at him, 'You so and so!' He laughed. That's the last word we had for -- well, I just don't know how long."
Other sources have reported that the feud actually began in 1905, when there was a mix-up over a cab the two were supposed to share. By all accounts, though, Evers was an incredibly high-strung fellow.
.... Frank Chance got so sick of listening to his irascible second baseman that he considered shifting Evers to the outfield. These days, I suppose you'd call Evers an extreme type-A personality, and he didn't really get along with anybody, which is probably why everyone called him "The Crab." Evers missed most of the 1911 season after suffering a nervous breakdown. Nevertheless, he succeeded Chance as player-manager in 1913, leading a disgusted Tinker to
demand a trade. After the season, Evers himself was traded to the Boston Braves, for whom he played a major role in their miraculous, World Series-winning 1914 campaign ....
As for Frank Adams, he reportedly thought his famous lines "weren't much good."
2. The First Truly Exciting All-Star Game
Robert W. Creamer, Baseball in '41
In Detroit, where the [1941] All-Star game was to be played ... [m]any of the All-Star players had "candid cameras," as the newly popular 35-mm cameras were called, nd some had movie cameras. All of them took pictures of [Joe] DiMaggio. When the All-Star teams were introduced he and [Bob]Feller received the greatest applause from the Detroit crowd (except for Rudy York, the lone Tiger in the American League lineup.)
DiMaggio batted third for the American League while [Ted] Williams hit fourth. Feller pitched the first three innings and shut down the National League with only one hit. Williams drove in the first run of the game with a double off Paul Derringer in the fourth, and after six innings the American League led 2-1.
Then the presumptive hero of the game emerged. He was Arky Vaughan, the renowned
shortstop of the Pittsburgh Pirates .... Vaughan hit a two-run homer in the seventh inning to put the National League ahead 3-2, and in the eighth he hit another two-run homer to make the score 5-2.
The American League, the dominant league in those days, had won six of the first seven All-Star games, but the Nationals had won the year before when they shutout the Americans 4-0. Then the Nationals won the World Series for the first time in six years, and now they were winning the All-Star game again. People gave credit for this success to Bill McKechnie, the Cincinnati Reds'
manager, who piloted the National League All-Stars in both 1940 and 1941 ....
DiMaggio had not yet had a hit, not that it mattered as far as his [45-game hitting] streak was concerned. The All-Star game was an exhibition not a regular-season game. But the crowd wanted a hit from Joe and yelled for him to get one each time he batted, and it felt let down each time he failed. In the eighth inning, to the joy of the crowd, Joe doubled, and a moment later, after [Claude] Passeau struck out Williams, he scored on his brother Dominic's
double. But that was all the American League could do. The Nationals still led 5-3 going into the last half of the ninth.
McKechnie ... let Passeau stay in the game for a third inning. The big righthander ... got the
first man out on a pop-up to Billy Herman, who was playing second base for the Nationals. But Ken Keltner hit a hard ground ball to short that took a bad hop and hit Eddie Miller, who had taken over for Vaughan, on the shoulder. Keltner was safe. Joe Gordon followed with a clean single to right. Passeau went to a three-and-two count on Cecil Travis and walked him, filling the bases with one out, and the great DiMaggio came to bat.
....But DiMaggio hit a bouncing ball to the shortstop, a grounder made to order for a fast, game-ending double play. Miller fielded it, hurried his throw and tossed the ball a little off-line to Herman at second base. Herman, veteran of a thousand double plays, caught the ball just as Travis slid in hard and relayed it a little awkwardly to first base. They missed the double play. Herman's throw pulled the first baseman off the bag and DiMaggio, running hard as always, was safe. The run scored. The game, which seemed over, was not over. The American League still had life.
Gordon was on third base, DiMaggio on first. There were two out, the score was 5-4 in favor of the Nationals, and Williams was up. He was a lefthanded hitter opposing the righthanded Passeau, who was facing his sixth batter in this third inning of pitching, and yet McKechnie stayed with him. He remembered that Passeau had struck out Williams in the eighth.
"Passeau was always tough," Williams said in his autobiography. "He had a fast tailing ball he'd jam a lefthanded hitter with, right into your fists, and if you weren't quick he'd get it past you...."
The first pitch was low for a ball. Williams fouled the second down the first-base line. The third was high and inside for ball two. The fourth was the tailing fast ball Williams spoke of, in on the fists. Williams was waiting for it .... He hit the ball. Briggs Stadium in Detroit was famous as an easy home-run park, but Williams' towering blast down the right-field line ... would have been a home run anywhere. It soared on a high arc and hit against the green woodwork at the
front of the roof high in right field. Three runs scored .... [T]he American League had won, 7-5. Williams, laughing, clapping his hands, leaping like a young colt, bounded his way around the base paths and touched home plate. The All-Stars on the American League bench ran ... like small boys to pound Williams on the back, pat him, shake his hand ....
There had been dramatic moments in earlier All-Star games -- Ruth's home run in 1933, Carl
Hubbel striking out five great hitters in a row in 1934, Feller coming on in relief in 1939 with the bases loaded and one out and ending the uprising with one pitch that was hit into an inning-ending double play. But Williams' homer, coming after Vaughan's two, made this the first truly exciting All-Star game, and in half a century since there hasn't been another to top it.
....If there was a precise moment when Williams was fully accepted by the baseball fraternity, this was it.
"I'm delighted," he kept saying. "Boy, was I glad to beat those guys this way. That's a moment I'll never forget."
He never did. He played another sixteen seasons, batted .400, won six batting titles, won the Most Valuable Player award as his team won the pennant, hit three more homers in All-Star play, hit another 450 homers in regular-season play, and was elected to the Hall of Fame. When it was all over he said the home run in Detroit was "the most thrilling hit of my life. It was a wonderful, wonderful day for me."
DiMaggio batted third for the American League while [Ted] Williams hit fourth. Feller pitched the first three innings and shut down the National League with only one hit. Williams drove in the first run of the game with a double off Paul Derringer in the fourth, and after six innings the American League led 2-1.
Then the presumptive hero of the game emerged. He was Arky Vaughan, the renowned
shortstop of the Pittsburgh Pirates .... Vaughan hit a two-run homer in the seventh inning to put the National League ahead 3-2, and in the eighth he hit another two-run homer to make the score 5-2.
The American League, the dominant league in those days, had won six of the first seven All-Star games, but the Nationals had won the year before when they shutout the Americans 4-0. Then the Nationals won the World Series for the first time in six years, and now they were winning the All-Star game again. People gave credit for this success to Bill McKechnie, the Cincinnati Reds'
manager, who piloted the National League All-Stars in both 1940 and 1941 ....
DiMaggio had not yet had a hit, not that it mattered as far as his [45-game hitting] streak was concerned. The All-Star game was an exhibition not a regular-season game. But the crowd wanted a hit from Joe and yelled for him to get one each time he batted, and it felt let down each time he failed. In the eighth inning, to the joy of the crowd, Joe doubled, and a moment later, after [Claude] Passeau struck out Williams, he scored on his brother Dominic's
double. But that was all the American League could do. The Nationals still led 5-3 going into the last half of the ninth.
McKechnie ... let Passeau stay in the game for a third inning. The big righthander ... got the
first man out on a pop-up to Billy Herman, who was playing second base for the Nationals. But Ken Keltner hit a hard ground ball to short that took a bad hop and hit Eddie Miller, who had taken over for Vaughan, on the shoulder. Keltner was safe. Joe Gordon followed with a clean single to right. Passeau went to a three-and-two count on Cecil Travis and walked him, filling the bases with one out, and the great DiMaggio came to bat.
....But DiMaggio hit a bouncing ball to the shortstop, a grounder made to order for a fast, game-ending double play. Miller fielded it, hurried his throw and tossed the ball a little off-line to Herman at second base. Herman, veteran of a thousand double plays, caught the ball just as Travis slid in hard and relayed it a little awkwardly to first base. They missed the double play. Herman's throw pulled the first baseman off the bag and DiMaggio, running hard as always, was safe. The run scored. The game, which seemed over, was not over. The American League still had life.
Gordon was on third base, DiMaggio on first. There were two out, the score was 5-4 in favor of the Nationals, and Williams was up. He was a lefthanded hitter opposing the righthanded Passeau, who was facing his sixth batter in this third inning of pitching, and yet McKechnie stayed with him. He remembered that Passeau had struck out Williams in the eighth.
"Passeau was always tough," Williams said in his autobiography. "He had a fast tailing ball he'd jam a lefthanded hitter with, right into your fists, and if you weren't quick he'd get it past you...."
The first pitch was low for a ball. Williams fouled the second down the first-base line. The third was high and inside for ball two. The fourth was the tailing fast ball Williams spoke of, in on the fists. Williams was waiting for it .... He hit the ball. Briggs Stadium in Detroit was famous as an easy home-run park, but Williams' towering blast down the right-field line ... would have been a home run anywhere. It soared on a high arc and hit against the green woodwork at the
front of the roof high in right field. Three runs scored .... [T]he American League had won, 7-5. Williams, laughing, clapping his hands, leaping like a young colt, bounded his way around the base paths and touched home plate. The All-Stars on the American League bench ran ... like small boys to pound Williams on the back, pat him, shake his hand ....
There had been dramatic moments in earlier All-Star games -- Ruth's home run in 1933, Carl
Hubbel striking out five great hitters in a row in 1934, Feller coming on in relief in 1939 with the bases loaded and one out and ending the uprising with one pitch that was hit into an inning-ending double play. But Williams' homer, coming after Vaughan's two, made this the first truly exciting All-Star game, and in half a century since there hasn't been another to top it.
....If there was a precise moment when Williams was fully accepted by the baseball fraternity, this was it.
"I'm delighted," he kept saying. "Boy, was I glad to beat those guys this way. That's a moment I'll never forget."
He never did. He played another sixteen seasons, batted .400, won six batting titles, won the Most Valuable Player award as his team won the pennant, hit three more homers in All-Star play, hit another 450 homers in regular-season play, and was elected to the Hall of Fame. When it was all over he said the home run in Detroit was "the most thrilling hit of my life. It was a wonderful, wonderful day for me."
3. Married to Mickey Mantle
Merlyn Mantle (as told to Christy Munro), "The Mickey Mantle I Know" (1957)
The Best of Baseball Digest
I met Mickey Mantle for the first time after a high school
football game in Commerce, Oklahoma, in 1949. He didn't say a word. I guess that's why I remembered him afterwards. I thought it was so odd.
Right then (in my mind, anyway), I was more a celebrity than he was, for I was drum majorette of the Picher High School band and a soloist at the First Baptist Church of Picher, and I'd sung at nearby army camps. Mickey had been graduated from Commerce High School that spring and was working as an electrician in the local lead and zinc mines, where his father was a ground boss.
I had never heard of Mickey, although Picher is only three miles from Commerce, and he had been playing baseball around those parts since he was five years old, from peewee leagues to pro ball. He'd even been signed by the New York Yankees at the time of his graduation. But I, like most of the other folks then in Ohlahoma, was strictly a football fan. I knew so little about
baseball that, on one of our early dates, I asked Mickey how many time-outs they could have
during an inning....
It was hard for me to understand, when we first started going together, why he said so firmly that we couldn't get married until he had made good with the Yankees. But all his life ... my husband has been trained for just one thing -- to play baseball. I'll never forget last year, when he got home on Christmas Eve from the tour he had made with Bob Hope of army camps in Alaska. He saw all the presents I had put out for the children and said: "I can't remember ever having any toys but baseballs and bats."
Both Mickey's dad and his grandfather were crazy about baseball and I guess they decided when Mickey was born that he was going to be a major leaguer .... They taught Mickey to be a switch hitter, his grandpa throwing to him right-handed, and his dad left-handed. When he was just a little fellow, they would have him out in the back yard afternoons taking batting practice until it got dark. Of course, this is largely why he is where he is today, and Mickey is fully aware of the debt he owes them both. Grandpa died in 1935; I never knew him. But I got to know his dad during Mickey's first year with the Yankees.
I had just graduated from high school and was working in the bank at Picher during the summer .... Then Mickey got into a slump. The Yankees sent him back to Kansas City, which just about broke his heart. Mickey admitted he even cried when he heard the news. Kansas City was about 150 miles from Commerce, but Dad and Mother Mantle drove over there often to see Mickey play and keep up his morale. They sometimes took me along, too.
When Mickey made good in Kansas City and the Yankees recalled him, Dad Mantle was
even more thrilled than Mickey. He got a group together to go to see Mickey play in the World Series in New York .... But in the second game, Mickey, who was playing right field, tripped on one of the drains in the outfield and tore all the ligaments in his right knee. They had to carry him off the field on a stretcher. I can imagine how Dad Mantle must have felt. He hurried to the
clubhouse and went down to Lenox Hill Hospital with Mickey. But as Dad Mantle tried to help Mickey out of the cab, poor Dad collapsed .... The doctors at Lenox Hill ... found out he was in the last stages of cancer, and told Mickey his father couldn't live more than six months....
Dad Mantle came home shortly after the Series was over, but Mickey had to stay in the hospital about a month. When he got home, he asked me to marry him as soon as possible .... Mickey was under tremendous pressure. He wanted to make good both for himself and for his dad. He also had financial reasons. He had been voted a full share of the World Series money and had used it to pay the mortgage on the family house. But he was now the sole support of two families and he was aware of his responsibilities. Dad Mantle died in May. There was a night game with
the Indians and Mickey played because he knew his father would have wanted it. Then he went home to the funeral.
....Mickey and I were very young that first year, very inexperienced, and both of us were spoiled. I was lonesome and homesick .... I also had my first experience with baseball fans. Mickey used to come home from the park followed by a string of boys and girls. Sometimes their
kidding wasn't so good-natured, especially if he'd had a bad day. If he didn't stop to sign autographs, they threw ink at him. Several good shirts and jackets were ruined, and we couldn't afford that. His Fan Club, girls around 14 years old, used to settle for hanging around me if they couldn't find Mickey. When I did my daily marketing, I was followed down the street and into the stores by a group of little girls wearing jackets with "Mickey Mantle" on their backs.
....So far as I'm concerned, I would settle for Mickey's quitting when he finishes ten years of baseball in the majors, which will be after the 1960 season. But if Mickey's legs hold out, I don't think he will stop that soon. There is nothing else he was ever trained for, and nothing he loves to do as much.
football game in Commerce, Oklahoma, in 1949. He didn't say a word. I guess that's why I remembered him afterwards. I thought it was so odd.
Right then (in my mind, anyway), I was more a celebrity than he was, for I was drum majorette of the Picher High School band and a soloist at the First Baptist Church of Picher, and I'd sung at nearby army camps. Mickey had been graduated from Commerce High School that spring and was working as an electrician in the local lead and zinc mines, where his father was a ground boss.
I had never heard of Mickey, although Picher is only three miles from Commerce, and he had been playing baseball around those parts since he was five years old, from peewee leagues to pro ball. He'd even been signed by the New York Yankees at the time of his graduation. But I, like most of the other folks then in Ohlahoma, was strictly a football fan. I knew so little about
baseball that, on one of our early dates, I asked Mickey how many time-outs they could have
during an inning....
It was hard for me to understand, when we first started going together, why he said so firmly that we couldn't get married until he had made good with the Yankees. But all his life ... my husband has been trained for just one thing -- to play baseball. I'll never forget last year, when he got home on Christmas Eve from the tour he had made with Bob Hope of army camps in Alaska. He saw all the presents I had put out for the children and said: "I can't remember ever having any toys but baseballs and bats."
Both Mickey's dad and his grandfather were crazy about baseball and I guess they decided when Mickey was born that he was going to be a major leaguer .... They taught Mickey to be a switch hitter, his grandpa throwing to him right-handed, and his dad left-handed. When he was just a little fellow, they would have him out in the back yard afternoons taking batting practice until it got dark. Of course, this is largely why he is where he is today, and Mickey is fully aware of the debt he owes them both. Grandpa died in 1935; I never knew him. But I got to know his dad during Mickey's first year with the Yankees.
I had just graduated from high school and was working in the bank at Picher during the summer .... Then Mickey got into a slump. The Yankees sent him back to Kansas City, which just about broke his heart. Mickey admitted he even cried when he heard the news. Kansas City was about 150 miles from Commerce, but Dad and Mother Mantle drove over there often to see Mickey play and keep up his morale. They sometimes took me along, too.
When Mickey made good in Kansas City and the Yankees recalled him, Dad Mantle was
even more thrilled than Mickey. He got a group together to go to see Mickey play in the World Series in New York .... But in the second game, Mickey, who was playing right field, tripped on one of the drains in the outfield and tore all the ligaments in his right knee. They had to carry him off the field on a stretcher. I can imagine how Dad Mantle must have felt. He hurried to the
clubhouse and went down to Lenox Hill Hospital with Mickey. But as Dad Mantle tried to help Mickey out of the cab, poor Dad collapsed .... The doctors at Lenox Hill ... found out he was in the last stages of cancer, and told Mickey his father couldn't live more than six months....
Dad Mantle came home shortly after the Series was over, but Mickey had to stay in the hospital about a month. When he got home, he asked me to marry him as soon as possible .... Mickey was under tremendous pressure. He wanted to make good both for himself and for his dad. He also had financial reasons. He had been voted a full share of the World Series money and had used it to pay the mortgage on the family house. But he was now the sole support of two families and he was aware of his responsibilities. Dad Mantle died in May. There was a night game with
the Indians and Mickey played because he knew his father would have wanted it. Then he went home to the funeral.
....Mickey and I were very young that first year, very inexperienced, and both of us were spoiled. I was lonesome and homesick .... I also had my first experience with baseball fans. Mickey used to come home from the park followed by a string of boys and girls. Sometimes their
kidding wasn't so good-natured, especially if he'd had a bad day. If he didn't stop to sign autographs, they threw ink at him. Several good shirts and jackets were ruined, and we couldn't afford that. His Fan Club, girls around 14 years old, used to settle for hanging around me if they couldn't find Mickey. When I did my daily marketing, I was followed down the street and into the stores by a group of little girls wearing jackets with "Mickey Mantle" on their backs.
....So far as I'm concerned, I would settle for Mickey's quitting when he finishes ten years of baseball in the majors, which will be after the 1960 season. But if Mickey's legs hold out, I don't think he will stop that soon. There is nothing else he was ever trained for, and nothing he loves to do as much.
4. They Played the Game
Bert Blyleven (1970-90, 1992) Pitcher who at the age of 30 had started season openers for four major league clubs. Blyleven was the opening-day starter for the Texas Rangers in 1977, for the Pittsburgh Pirates in 1979 and 1980 and, five days past his 30th birthday, for the Cleveland Indians in 1981. [In 1986 Blyleven set a major league record by allowing 50 home runs. The following year he served up 46 -- ed.]BORN: April 6, 1951 (Zeist, Holland) / 287-250, 3.31 / All-Star 1973, 1985
Tom Brown (1963) The only man to play major league baseball and also appear in football's Super Bowl. Brown, from the University of Maryland, was a first baseman-outfielder who played in 61 games for Washington in 1963 and batted .147 with one home run. He then played with Green Bay of the National Football League from 1964 through 1968, starting at safety for the Packers in Super Bowls I and II, and finished his NFL career with the Washington Redskins in 1969.
BORN: December 12, 1940 (Laureldale, PA) / .147, 1, 4
Bob Hazle (1955, 1957-58) Called up from Class AAA Wichita (where he was batting only .279), Hazle earned the nickname "Hurricane" by hitting .403 in 41 games for Milwaukee in 1957 and
helping the Braves to the National League pennant. The outfielder's only other big-league experience consisted of six games in 1955 and 63 games in 1958.
BORN: December 9, 1930 (Laurens, SC) / .310, 9, 37
Cal Hubbard The only man inducted into both the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, NY, and the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton, Ohio. Hubbard was a standout lineman for nine seasons (1927-33, 1935-36) in the National Football League, an American League umpire for 16 years (1936-51) and then a supervisor of umpires.
BORN: October 31, 1900 (Keytesville, MO)
Bert Shepard (1945) Pitcher whose big-league career consisted of one appearance -- and that came after amputation of his right leg below the knee (as a result of injuries suffered when his plane was shot down during World War II). Pitching on an artificial leg against the Boston Red Sox in the second game of an August 4, 1945 doubleheader at Washington's Griffith Stadium, Shepard worked 5-1/3 innings of relief for the Senators and allowed only three hits and one run. He walked one batter and struck out two as the Red Sox prevailed, 15-4.
BORN: June 28, 1920 (Dana, IN)
Wade Boggs (1982-99) Hall of Famer Boggs won the AL batting title five times (1983, 1985, 1986, 1987, 1988) and broke Al Simmons' mark of five consecutive seasons with 200 or more hits by doing it seven straight times between 1983 and 1989.
BORN June 15, 1958, Omaha, NE / .328, 118, 1014 / All-Star 1985, 1986, 1987, 1988, 1989, 1990, 1991, 1992, 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996 / Gold Glove 1994, 1995 / Silver Slugger 1983, 1986, 1987, 1988, 1989, 1991, 1993, 1994
Joe Carter (1983-98) Carter was the first player to start at three different positions in three straight World Series games when, in 1992, he played left field, right field and first base for Toronto.
BORN March 7, 1960, Oklahoma City, OK / .259, 396, 1445 / All-Star 1991, 1992, 1993, 1994, 1996 / Silver Slugger 1991, 1992
Henry Chadwick Chadwick didn't play the game, but he contributed greatly to it. The British-born
journalist did much to popularize the sport in the 19th century. He introduced statistical benchmarks such as the batting average, and the newspaper box score. He was referred to, at the time, as the "Father of Baseball" and was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1938, the only sportswriter to be so honored.
Joe Start (1871-86) One of the game's best first basemen for two decades. Start is credited with being the player who ended the amazing winning streak of the Cincinnati Red Stockings on June 14, 1870 while playing for the Brooklyn Athletics. Start retired with a .300 batting average and numerous records.
"Old Reliable" BORN October 14, 1842, New York, NY / .299, 15, 544
Joe Sullivan (1893-96) Washington Senators shortstop Sullivan has the dubious distinction of being the last major league player with 100 or more errors in a season. He collected 102 in 1893.
BORN January 1, 1870 (Charleston, MA) / .299, 11, 227
Tom Brown (1963) The only man to play major league baseball and also appear in football's Super Bowl. Brown, from the University of Maryland, was a first baseman-outfielder who played in 61 games for Washington in 1963 and batted .147 with one home run. He then played with Green Bay of the National Football League from 1964 through 1968, starting at safety for the Packers in Super Bowls I and II, and finished his NFL career with the Washington Redskins in 1969.
BORN: December 12, 1940 (Laureldale, PA) / .147, 1, 4
Bob Hazle (1955, 1957-58) Called up from Class AAA Wichita (where he was batting only .279), Hazle earned the nickname "Hurricane" by hitting .403 in 41 games for Milwaukee in 1957 and
helping the Braves to the National League pennant. The outfielder's only other big-league experience consisted of six games in 1955 and 63 games in 1958.
BORN: December 9, 1930 (Laurens, SC) / .310, 9, 37
Cal Hubbard The only man inducted into both the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, NY, and the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton, Ohio. Hubbard was a standout lineman for nine seasons (1927-33, 1935-36) in the National Football League, an American League umpire for 16 years (1936-51) and then a supervisor of umpires.
BORN: October 31, 1900 (Keytesville, MO)
Bert Shepard (1945) Pitcher whose big-league career consisted of one appearance -- and that came after amputation of his right leg below the knee (as a result of injuries suffered when his plane was shot down during World War II). Pitching on an artificial leg against the Boston Red Sox in the second game of an August 4, 1945 doubleheader at Washington's Griffith Stadium, Shepard worked 5-1/3 innings of relief for the Senators and allowed only three hits and one run. He walked one batter and struck out two as the Red Sox prevailed, 15-4.
BORN: June 28, 1920 (Dana, IN)
Wade Boggs (1982-99) Hall of Famer Boggs won the AL batting title five times (1983, 1985, 1986, 1987, 1988) and broke Al Simmons' mark of five consecutive seasons with 200 or more hits by doing it seven straight times between 1983 and 1989.
BORN June 15, 1958, Omaha, NE / .328, 118, 1014 / All-Star 1985, 1986, 1987, 1988, 1989, 1990, 1991, 1992, 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996 / Gold Glove 1994, 1995 / Silver Slugger 1983, 1986, 1987, 1988, 1989, 1991, 1993, 1994
Joe Carter (1983-98) Carter was the first player to start at three different positions in three straight World Series games when, in 1992, he played left field, right field and first base for Toronto.
BORN March 7, 1960, Oklahoma City, OK / .259, 396, 1445 / All-Star 1991, 1992, 1993, 1994, 1996 / Silver Slugger 1991, 1992
Henry Chadwick Chadwick didn't play the game, but he contributed greatly to it. The British-born
journalist did much to popularize the sport in the 19th century. He introduced statistical benchmarks such as the batting average, and the newspaper box score. He was referred to, at the time, as the "Father of Baseball" and was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1938, the only sportswriter to be so honored.
Joe Start (1871-86) One of the game's best first basemen for two decades. Start is credited with being the player who ended the amazing winning streak of the Cincinnati Red Stockings on June 14, 1870 while playing for the Brooklyn Athletics. Start retired with a .300 batting average and numerous records.
"Old Reliable" BORN October 14, 1842, New York, NY / .299, 15, 544
Joe Sullivan (1893-96) Washington Senators shortstop Sullivan has the dubious distinction of being the last major league player with 100 or more errors in a season. He collected 102 in 1893.
BORN January 1, 1870 (Charleston, MA) / .299, 11, 227