Card Corner: Hoss Clarke
For too long now, we in the media have referred to the
Yankees of 1965 to 1974 as representatives of the “Horace Clarke Era.” The
team’s starting second baseman for much of that period, Clarke has come to
symbolize the mediocrity of those Yankee clubs. Seen here in his final Topps
card (vintage 1974), Clarke was viewed as an inadequate player, symptomatic of
a team that was inadequately built to win any pennants or division titles
during that ten-year span.
The criticism of Clarke has run on several different levels.
Too much of a free swinger, he didn’t draw enough walks. He didn’t have great
range at second base, especially toward his backhand side. He also didn’t turn
the double play well.
To some extent, the criticisms are all true. He never coaxed
more than 64 walks in a season and usually finished below the 50-mark.
Defensively, he paled in comparison to two other Yankees, predecessor Bobby
Richardson and successor Willie Randolph. On double plays, Clarke bailed out
early and often. Instead of pivoting at the bag, he sometimes jumped out of the
way of runners while holding onto the baseball.
Those critiques provide only a partial view. The
switch-hitting Clarke stole bases, bunted adeptly, and usually hit for a
respectable average (at least for that era), which would have played acceptably
as the eight-hole or ninth-place hitter. The Yankees made the mistake of using
Clarke as a leadoff man because he looked and ran like a tablesetter. That was
their mistake, not his. In the field, Clarke had his shortcomings, but for a
guy who supposedly lacked range, he did lead the American League in assists six
times. Part of that might have been attributable to having a sinkerballer like
Mel Stottlemyre on the staff, but it’s also an indication that Clarke had pretty
good range to his left.
Was Clarke a top-notch player? Of course not. But I would
say that he was better than mediocre. (The Yankees of that era, like Clarke,
were also better than advertised. Just look at the records of the 1970 and 1974
teams.) I think the Yankees could have
won a division with a second baseman like Clarke, if only they had been better
at other positions, like third base (prior to Graig Nettles’ arrival) or right
field. If you want to find the real reasons why the Yankees so often struggled
during those years, you need to look no further than the revolving doors at
those slots. The Yankees had substantially weaker players at third base (Cox,
Kenney, Sanchez) and right field (Kosco, Swoboda, Callison). It’s just that
none of the third basemen or right fielders lasted long enough to become
targets of the critics.
Putting aside the issue of talent evaluation for a moment,
Clarke was an intriguing player to follow, especially for a young fan like me. Clarke
came attached with a cool nickname. He was called “Hoss,” raising memories of
Dan Blocker’s iconic character from Bonanza. (Bill White, in particular, loved
that nickname. “Hosssss Clarke,” he liked to say with flourish.) Clarke also
had an intriguing background. He was one of the few players I can remember who
hailed from the Virgin Islands. So that made
him a little bit different from your run-of-the-mill player. Then there was
Clarke’s appearance. He wore very large glasses, the kind that became so horribly
fashionable in the early 1970s, really round and overly noticeable. On the
field, Clarke not only wore a helmet at the plate; he sported one while
patrolling second base. I haven’t been able to figure out exactly why he did
that. It may have had something to do with his fear of being upended on
double-play takeout slides. Several years ago, Darren “Repoz” Viola of Baseball
Think Factory asked former Yankee broadcaster Bob Gamere why Clarke wore the
helmet at second base; Gamere explained that it may have stemmed from a 1969
incident in which Clarke was hit in the head with a ball, but he wasn’t
completely certain. Whatever the reason, the helmet made Clarke a distinctive
landmark on the middle infield.
For all of those reasons, and for being a quiet guy who
rarely complained, Hoss Clarke was a likeable guy. He was also a decent ballplayer.
So let’s stop vilifying the man who was once booed during pre-game introductions
on Opening Day at the old Yankee Stadium. Let’s stop raking the man that one New York writer
repeatedly referred to as “Horrible Horace.” I’d prefer to call him “Helpful
Horace.” Let’s go with that instead.
Bunts and Boots: Updating the Hall of Fame Classic
Fans of baseball in the 1970s and eighties will have plenty
of memories to draw from on June 21, when the inaugural Hall of Fame Classic
takes place here in Cooperstown. The list of
retired players who have committed to play in the classic–a seven-inning
old-timers game at Doubleday Field–continues to grow. Last month, the MLB
Alumni Association announced the names of the five Hall of Famers who would
play in the game. Now we’re learning the identities of some of the other
players who will fill out the rosters for the National and American League
teams.
The Alumni Association has indicated that it will place a
special emphasis on recruiting players with ties to the Red Sox, Yankees, and
Mets, the three teams followed most rabidly in the Cooperstown
region. With that in mind, here is a rundown of those players who will be
joining Paul Molitor, Brooks Robinson, Bob Feller, Ferguson Jenkins, and Phil
Niekro in Cooperstown on Father’s Day Weekend.
Bobby Grich: Of
all eligible players not in the Hall of Fame, Grich is one of the best–and one
of the most deserving of enshrinement in Cooperstown.
Hopefully, the Veterans Committee will one day put Grich in the Hall, on the
legitimate merits of his vacuum-like defense at second base, his keen batting
eye, and his surprising power, unusual for middle infielders of his era. Grich
also carried one of the best nicknames–”The Lizard”–during his hey day in the
seventies and eighties.
George Foster:
“The Destroyer” should find the short left-field fences at Doubleday Field to
his liking. It’s easy to overlook Foster’s contributions to the “Big Red
Machine,” considering all of the deserved publicity received by former teammates
Johnny Bench, Joe Morgan, and Pete Rose. But let’s not forget his status as one
of the game’s great run producers of the late 1970s, capped off by his 50-home
run season in 1977. Given the Hall of Fame Classic’s slant toward the New York teams, I’ll be
curious to see whether Fosters wears a Mets uniform in the game. His days with
the Mets were not the happiest, especially in contrast to his prime years with
The Machine.
Lee Smith: The
king-sized closer has become a frequent visitor to Cooperstown,
though not as a Hall of Fame member. (At least not yet.) I remember the first
time I saw Smith enter a game for the Cubs; as he jogged in from the Wrigley
Field bullpen, he looked absolutely gargantuan,
a cross between a linebacker and a power forward. (Now I know how fans must
have felt when they first saw Dick “The Monster” Radatz.) Once Smith harnessed control of his
fastball, he became one of the dominant relievers of the eighties and nineties.
It seems like he pitched for just about everybody, most notably the Cubs,
Cardinals, and Red Sox, but he also played briefly for the Yankees during their
ill-fated run at the AL East title in 1993.
Jim Kaat: Like
Bert Blyleven and Tommy John, “Kitty Kaat” is part of a contingent of longtime
starters who fell just short of the 300-win club but remain on the cusp of
election to the Hall of Fame. Kaat did most of his damage with the Twins and
White Sox, but did pitch briefly for the Yankees in the early 1980s. After a
short retirement from broadcasting, where he excelled on the YES Network’s
coverage of Yankee games, Kaat has returned to the booth as an analyst with the
new MLB Network. Even though Kaat is now in his seventies, he keeps himself in
terrific physical condition, so don’t be surprised to see him log a couple of
innings in the HOF Classic.
Jon Warden: This
former Tigers left-hander pitched only one season in the big leagues, but it
was a memorable one, coinciding with Detroit’s
world championship in 1968. Though his career was cut short by subsequent arm
trouble, Warden has made a name for himself as one of baseball’s funny men. A
sort of modern day Joe Garagiola, Warden enjoys poking fun at himself, his
hefty physique (he’s the anti-Kaat), and any players who do anything the least
bit embarrassing during the Alumni Association gatherings. If the HOF Classic
has a “Kangaroo Court,” Warden will surely serve as the presiding judge. And,
much like Garagiola or Bob Uecker, he will get his deserved share of laughs.
Bill Lee: Like
Warden, Lee will bring plenty of color to Cooperstown
for the Classic. Always outspoken, “The Spacemen” has forged a reputation as an
idiosyncratic rebel and offbeat philosopher. He became a cult figure in Boston, where he
eventually feuded with Don Zimmer. After his major league playing days came to
an end, Lee has traveled the globe as a semipro pitcher, written two critically
acclaimed books, emerged as a star on Ken Burns’ Baseball, and even managed a team in the now-defunct Senior League.
Not surprisingly, Lee drew the ire of management and received his walking
papers after only a handful of games.
Steve Rogers: A
teammate of Lee with the Expos, Rogers emerged as one of the National League’s
top starters in the late seventies and early eighties, in spite of a testy
relationship with manager Dick Williams. Along the way, he claimed five berths
in the All-Star Game, a league ERA crown in 1982, and two huge wins for Montreal in the 1981
Division Series. Highly intelligent and well spoken, Rogers has become a high-ranking member of
the Players’ Association, where he reports to union chief Donald Fehr.
Johnny Grubb:
Though he had a name that rhymed with “scrub” and played much of his prime
years with some dreadful Padres and Rangers teams in the 1970s, Grubb was an
underrated offensive player who did well in a platoon role, usually as a
sure-handed left fielder. The owner of a lifetime on-base percentage of .366,
the lefty-swinging Grubb did his best work against right-handed pitching. He
lasted 16 seasons, long enough to earn an All-Star Game selection and pick up a
world championship ring as a backup outfielder for the 1984 Tigers. After his
playing days, Grubb served as one of Phil Niekro’s coaches with the Colorado
Silver Bullets, the now-defunct women’s professional team.
Joe Lahoud: Like
Grubb, Lahoud was a left-handed hitting outfielder who had to scrape for
playing time. Lahoud didn’t hit for average and had a reputation as a poor
defensive outfielder, but he did draw walks and hit with power, making him a
subtle contributor to teams like the Brewers and Angels. During the early stage
of his career, Lahoud found himself caught in the middle of the Red Sox feud
that developed between Carl Yastrzemski and Tony Conigliaro. Lahoud was
friendly with both players, but the clubhouse tension contributed to the trade
that sent him and Tony C. to Milwaukee
as part of the George Scott-Tommy Harper blockbuster.
Jim Hannan: The
former Senators and Tigers right-hander is best known for being part of the
Denny McLain blockbuster. Along with Aurelio Rodriguez and Eddie Brinkman,
Hannan went from Washington to Detroit as part of the
payoff for McLain. At age 69, Hannan will be one of the oldest retired players to
participate in the Classic. He’ll also be one of the most outgoing, an
energetic sort who has done some terrific work in building the Alumni
Association since its inception in the early eighties.
Other players scheduled to participate in the Classic
include utilityman Steve “Psycho” Lyons, now a broadcaster with the Dodgers, former
big league right-handers Ron Robinson, Anthony Telford,
and John Doherty, and ex-Yankee left-hander Dennis Rasmussen. An additional
five players will be added to the rosters for the Father’s Day game, with those
announcements coming over the next several weeks. As always, we’ll try our best
to keep you posted.
The Sunday Scuttlebutt
It may be small consolation to their frustrated fan base, but if the Orioles can find someone halfway decent to patrol
left field, they can make an argument for having the best outfield in the game.
Center fielder Adam Jones has blossomed in his second season, adding a robust
bat to his already imposing glove. Right fielder Nick Markakis is now a
legitimate star, having elevated his game each of the last three seasons. Unfortunately, left field remains a problem for the Birds. Felix Pie (.158
batting average and .238 on-base percentage) has hit just as poorly in Baltimore as he did in Chicago, while utilityman Lou Montanez is no
more than a stopgap solution. A more immediate short-term answer might be found at Triple-A, where the
Orioles just assigned Joey Gathright, freshly acquired from the Cubs.
Gathright, who is still one of the three fastest runners in the game (I’ll vote
for Emilio Bonifacio and Brett Gardner as the others) and can handle left field
defensively. As to how much Gathright will hit, that remains the eternal
question…
On Saturday night, Steve Stone provided another example of
why he’s one of baseball’s best color analysts. During the broadcast of the
White Sox-Rangers game, Stone listed Josh Fields and Carlos Quentin as the Sox’
two best runners in terms of going hard into second base and breaking up potential double
plays. That’s just great information. How many color announcers even pay
attention to such overlooked aspects of baserunning, especially in an era when
hitting and pitching are so much the focus of on-air discussion? Keep up the
great work, Steve…
It’s really no mystery why Zack Greinke has been so
masterfully overpowering for the Royals. He has two phenomenal pitches–an
exploding fastball and a biting overhand curve–and throws everything in his
arsenal for strikes. His start to the season is no fluke; he’s a legitimate No.
1 starter that the Royals can build around for years to come. With Greinke, Gil
Meche, and Brian “The Animal” Bannister now in the rotation, and former No. 1
pick Luke Hochevar on the way, the Royals have the makings of a starting staff
that will contend–if not in 2009, then next summer…
Just how low have the Yankees sunk? Fresh off their
disheartening five-game losing streak this week, the front office decided that
answers to their problems could be found in journeyman mediocrities Kevin Cash
and Brett Tomko, recalled from Triple-A Scranton. Cash is the ultimate
good-field, no-hit catcher, a limited player of borderline major league capability.
Tomko pitched horribly for the Padres last season, despite the benefit of
pitching in Petco
Park half of the time. While
it’s undeniable that the Yankees have been hit with a crushing tidal wave of
injuries, it’s inconceivable that such a wealthy franchise has such little
organizational depth. It’s also an indictment of general manager Brian Cashman
and his stunning lack of attention to detail. Remarkably, Cashman failed to put
in a waiver claim on hard-hitting backup catcher Brayan Pena, who was demoted
to Triple-A Omaha by the Royals…
I understand that A.J. Hinch is a bright young mind who has
done well in developing Arizona’s
farm system. But wouldn’t it have made more sense for the Diamondbacks to tap
someone with at least some on-field experience in hiring their new manager,
especially in the middle of the season. There are some legitimate managerial
candidates who have track records in running ballclubs. Torey Lovullo is a
terrific young manager who has won two minor league titles in the Indians’
system. Why didn’t the D-Backs at least approach the Indians about the
possibility of hiring Lovullo? Another possibility would have been Davey
Johnson, fresh off his stint as manager of Team USA in the World Baseball Classic.
Or perhaps the D-Backs could have stayed in-house by promoting bench coach Kirk
Gibson, who could have at least managed the team on an interim basis. Gibson
certainly doesn’t lack fire, which was one of the criticisms aimed at fired
skipper Bob Melvin…
Rickie Weeks, a notoriously poor fielding second baseman,
has been one of the game’s most improved defenders through the first five weeks
of the season. Much of the credit goes to new Brewers coach Willie Randolph, who
was hired as part of Ken Macha’s new-look staff. Randolph was one of the most
fundamentally sound second baseman of his era, so it’s no surprise that he’s
having such a positive impact on the talented but erratic Weeks…
Sandy Alomar, Sr. has been a player, coach, or minor league
instructors for 49 straight years, dating back to 1960, his first year in
professional ball with the Los Angeles Angels’ organization. Yet, Alomar had
never managed even a single game–mostly because he had no such aspirations–until
this weekend. Alomar’s debut took place
on Saturday, as he managed the Mets during Jerry Manuel’s one-game suspension
for incidental contact with an umpire. The Mets won that game against the
Pirates, 10-1, which means that Alomar will have a perfect record as manager
for awhile, at least until the next time that Manuel is suspended. Good for
Alomar, one of the solid men who have been a life-long servant to the game…
Of all the team statistics I’ve heard bandied about, none is
more shocking than this. The Phillies are a meager 3-and-9 at home in games in
which they have faced right-handed starting pitchers. That is simply stunning
for a team that is so heavily loaded with left-handed hitting studs like Ryan
Howard, Chase Utley, the switch-hitting Jimmy Rollins, and new sensation Raul
Ibanez. The Phillies’ poor record against righties is a severe indictment of
their shaky starting pitching, which has too often failed to keep them in
games. None of Philly’s starters–particularly ace Cole Hamels or the
prehistoric Jamie Moyer–have pitched anywhere near their 2008 levels.
A Smattering of Intelligence: Hinch, Freel, and The Little Professor
Less than six weeks into the season, the Diamondbacks have
decided that a major change is in order for their underachieving team. By
sacking Bob Melvin and hiring front office farm director A.J. Hinch to manage
the team, the D-Backs have signaled a radical change in the direction of their
on-field leadership. Hinch has no prior managing or coaching experience at any
level, not even in rookie ball. What he does have is an eye for young talent,
an ability that the D-Backs hope will translate into an ability to develop that talent. The latter area is
where Melvin fell short; too many of Arizona’s talented young players (like Mark
Reynolds and Chris Young) have failed to become significantly better than they were in
2007, when the Baby Backs came within two games of the World Series.
Did Melvin deserve to get fired? Perhaps, but not at this
early stage of the season. I tend to think that managers–like young unproven
players–deserve at least two full months of the season before we make
wide-sweeping judgments about their ability. I would have given Melvin until
the end of May; if the D-backs had shown no signs of a turnaround, a move would
have been mandatory. And what about Hinch? I know he’s a bright guy who has
drawn good reviews for his work as an Arizona’s
front office whiz kid, but his lack of any kind of on-field coaching or
managing experience is alarming. Contrary to what most Sabermetric general
managers like Josh Byrnes (and Billy Beane) seem to think, you cannot put just anyone into the managerial chair. It’s
not an interchangeable position. Rather, it’s a highly demanding and important
job that requires the right kind of temperament, personality, and experience.
Who knows how Hinch will do…
The Cubs made an interesting, if not major, transaction on
Friday, acquiring utilityman Ryan Freel from the Orioles for spare outfielder
Joey Gathright. Is this Chicago’s
way of trying to right the wrong that was done when GM Jim Hendry dealt Mark
DeRosa to the Indians for three middle-road prospects? Or is Hendry simply
trying to fortify his bench while ridding himself of a player (Gathright) who
had become so extraneous that he was sent to the minors earlier this week?
Freel isn’t the player that DeRosa is, either in terms of
power or versatility, but he does provide some flexibility. Freel can play
second base, third base, and all three outfield spots, while giving Lou
Piniella a decent pinch-running option in the late innings. Gathright is
certainly the more dangerous baserunner, but he’s strictly an outfielder, a
position that has become especially deep for Chicago given the resurgence of Kosuke
Fukudome and the presence of supersub Reed Johnson. This is really a no-brainer
move for the Cubs, who will benefit from Baltimore’s
inability to find a role for Freel…
In the late 1990s, Ted Williams championed Dom DiMaggio for
the Hall of Fame while serving as a member of the Veterans’ Committee. Even
with credit for the three seasons he lost to World War II, I felt that DiMaggio
fell short of the Hall of Fame standard. He was a very good player, but a bit
short of Cooperstown greatness.
That’s a trivial point, however. In many ways, Dom DiMaggio
represented everything that is good about baseball. DiMaggio, who died early
Friday morning at the age of 92, was a five-foot, nine-inch outfielder who wore
glasses; “The Little Professor” looked about as imposing on the ballfield as Chicken Little. But as
an overachiever performing in a sport where size plays little importance, he made
himself into a fine player who hit for average, drew walks, and played a dandy
center field–a very substantial player on some fine and underrated Red Sox
teams of the late 1940s. He was also, by all accounts, a true gentleman who was
highly regarded for his character by teammates and opponents alike. And that
matters a lot more than any argument about whether DiMaggio belongs in the Hall
of Fame.
The Nickname Game: Bee Bee, Sugar Bear, and Stick
Three shortstops from the 1970s continue to stick in my
mind. None of them were standout players–in fact, two of them had little
tangible impact during their major league careers–but they all had nicknames
that were more memorable than their playing ability. Their careers also
happened to coincide with my formative years as a baseball fan.
Larvell “Sugar Bear”
Blanks: I had always assumed that the former Braves and Indians shortstop
derived his nickname from the cartoon character “Sugar Bear,” who was featured
on the Sugar Crisp cereal commercials of that era. I learned differently when I
read John Skipper’s comprehensive book, Baseball
Nicknames. Blanks informed Skipper that he received the moniker in either
August or September of 1970, while playing for the Braves’ entry in the Arizona
Instructional League. At the same time, The Archies happened to release their
song, “Sugar, Sugar,” which promptly became a hit single on the radio airwaves.
Two of Blanks’ Instructional League teammates, Darrell Evans and Ralph Garr,
took note of the young shortstop’s aggressive batting style and began
serenading him as “Sugar Bear.” The name stuck with Blanks, remaining with him
even after the Braves traded him to the Indians. Perhaps the most memorable
incident of Blanks’ career occurred in Cleveland.
Furious with manager Frank Robinson, Sugar Bear ripped off his Indians uniform,
threw it into a barrel of trash, and then set it on fire.
Gene “Stick” Michael:
The most accomplished of the three shortstops profiled here, Michael epitomized
the good-field, no-hit shortstops that populated the game in the late sixties
and early seventies. Before he began a major league career that included stints
with the Pirates, Dodgers, Yankees, and Tigers, Michael starred as a college
basketball player at Kent
State University.
At six-feet, two inches and a rail-like 180 pounds, Michael had a sticklike
appearance on the basketball court, hence the nickname became a natural fit.
The label stuck with him in baseball, where he established a reputation as one
of the game’s smartest players. “Stick” became the master of the hidden ball
trick, pulling it off at least five times in his career. After his retirement,
Michael became a coach, manager, scout, and general manager, and continues to work
as an advisor in the front office of the Yankees.
Lee “Bee Bee” Richard:
This former White Sox’ shortstop also influenced a wrong assumption on the part
of this author. For years, I had thought that Richard, a very fast runner and
prolific basestealer in the minor leagues, was called “Bee Bee” because of his
blazing footspeed. Not so. Richard’s nickname originated in high school, where
he starred as a pitcher. Richard threw so hard as an amateur that his fastball
had the imaginary appearance of a BB pellet, released from a gun. Perhaps the
switch-hitting Richard should have remained a pitcher; he hit only .209 and
made far too many errors over five seasons, frustrating a White Sox front
office that considered him the shortstop of the future. According to White Sox
legend, Richard often beat the catcher’s throw to second base on stolen base
attempts, only to be tagged out for sliding past the bag!
Card Corner: David Clyde
In 1973, just one year before this card appeared, the Texas
Rangers initiated the destruction of a young pitcher’s career in an effort to
revive a languishing franchise. Team owner Bob Short devised an ill-conceived
plan to rush phenom left-hander David Clyde from high school ball to the major
leagues as a drawing card for the struggling Rangers franchise. Clyde’s debut
season did much to help attendance at Arlington Stadium, but at considerable
damage to Clyde’s career, which seemed so
promising after throwing nine no-hitters in his senior season of high school.
At onetime a household name, Clyde
has become a forgotten man in baseball annals. Here’s what happened. Drafted
first in the country out of Texas’ Westchester High School
in the spring of 1973, Clyde received a bonus
of $125,000 and donned a Rangers’ major league uniform only a few days later.
The immediate call-up to Texas was the
brainchild of owner Bob Short, which conflicted directly against the advice of
manager Whitey Herzog, who believed Clyde
needed considerable schooling in the minor leagues.
Equipped with both Short’s blessings and a mechanically
sound delivery that some scouts compared to that of Sandy Koufax, Clyde made
his highly publicized major league debut against the Minnesota Twins on June
27, 1973. (Only 20 days earlier, Clyde had
made his final appearance as a high school pitcher.) That night’s game at
Arlington Stadium became such a focal point of local attention that the first
pitch was delayed by 15 minutes, allowing more fans to free themselves from the
massive logjam of traffic outside the stadium. Perhaps rattled by the late
start and frazzled by his own nervousness, the 18-year-old Clyde walked the
first two batters he faced–infielder Jerry Terrell and Hall of Famer Rod Carew–before
settling down to strike out the side. Clyde went on to pitch a respectable five
innings, walking a total of seven Twins, but struck out eight batters while
allowing two earned runs and only one hit. Unfortunately, Clyde
struggled to match his celebrated debut performance over the balance of the
season, posting an ERA of 5.03 and winning only four of 12 decisions with the
lowly Rangers in 1973. His pitching only worsened in 1974, leading him down a
slippery slope to baseball obscurity.
Clyde’s problems only
worsened when Whitey Herzog was fired and replaced by Billy Martin. Ever fiery
and judgmental, Martin didn’t like the left-hander, in part because he didn’t
like pitchers and didn’t like rookies, two mortal sins committed by Clyde. Martin also didn’t appreciate the fact that Clyde lost nine straight decisions after starting the
1974 season at 3-and-0. At one point, Martin didn’t pitch Clyde
for 31 consecutive days.
The late Art Fowler, a crony of Martin at virtually every
one of his managerial stops, became Clyde’s second pitching coach in Texas. Several years
ago, Fowler appeared on ESPN’s “Outside The Lines” program to discuss Clyde’s saga. Fowler supported Martin’s general
evaluation of Clyde, claiming that the
youngster was vastly overrated, unable to throw his fastball much harder than
in the mid-eighties. Fowler also trashed the quality of Clyde’s
competition in high school, half-kiddingly suggesting that the left-hander had
piled up an impressive set of statistics pitching against “girls.” Fowler’s
recollections of Clyde, however, differ significantly from those of Tom Grieve,
who was Clyde’s Texas
teammate from 1973-75. According to Grieve, Fowler raved about Clyde’s talents at the time, saying that he had the
potential to be a 25-game winner once he harnessed his control. Many of Clyde’s Ranger teammates also raved about both his
fastball and curve, rating them both as well above major league average.
So who to believe, Fowler or Grieve? For what it’s worth,
Fowler drew criticism throughout his career for his work as a pitching coach,
reinforcing a belief that he held onto jobs in Minnesota,
Detroit, Texas,
New York, and Oakland only because of his friendship with
Martin. Given Fowler’s track record as a Martin crony, it’s not surprising that
he would come to Martin’s defense when passing a judgment on Clyde’s
ability. It was that very allegiance to Martin that shed a light of suspicion
on Fowler’s motives. Fowler himself claimed that he didn’t think much of Clyde in large part because Martin didn’t think much of him. And that’s not a very critical way
of thinking, especially when it was your job to instruct pitchers and find ways
to make them better.
By the way, here’s what Fowler had to say about Clyde after one of his starts in 1974. “When his fastball
is moving like it was tonight,” Fowler told Randy Galloway of The Sporting News, “and with the
velocity he had tonight, he didn’t need [his] curveball.” That doesn’t sound
like the description of a pitcher lacking a good major league fastball.
While Clyde struggled with
his pitching coach and manager, along with the on-the-field demands of pitching
against big league hitters, he also gave in to the temptations of a fast-lane
lifestyle practiced by several of the Rangers’ veteran players. The hard-living
group, which included catcher Rich Billings, infielder Jim Fregosi, and pitcher
Clyde “Skeeter” Wright (the father of former Indian and Brave Jaret Wright),
laid out the welcome mat for Clyde, including him in their post-game visits to
local establishments. Clyde began drinking
heavily, a vice that became obvious when he showed up late for a team flight
while wearing the same clothes he had used the previous day. Unfortunately,
none of the veteran Rangers stepped up to help the teenaged Clyde, whose drinking
habits only exacerbated his problems on the mound.
And that only expedited the crashing of the career of a
young pitcher who might have been.
Bunts and Boots: Stolen Bases, Murphy’s Law, and Jim Palmer
Less than a week after Sports
Illustrated ran an article declaring the stolen base to be a lost art, two
players have run wild on the bases. First it was Rockies
rookie Dexter Fowler, who swiped five bases in a game against the Padres. Then
came Carl Crawford, who did Fowler one better by stealing a half-dozen bags on
Sunday against the Red Sox. In the process, Crawford tied the modern era record
for most thefts in a single game. So let’s not refer to the stolen base as
lost or dead, but something that is perhaps being resuscitated in 2009.
Do the one-game feats of Fowler and Crawford represent a
changing trend in the way that the stolen base will be used now that we’re in
the post-steroids era (if we can dare call it that)? It’s too soon to tell, but
I was initially leaning toward the poor state of catching as a reason for the
Fowler and Crawford explosions. After all, catching is one of the positions
that has been in recent decline, with most teams struggling to find quality
backups and some lacking severely in the starting department. Then I realized
that the two catchers in question–San Diego’s
Nick Hundley (no relation to Todd or Randy) and Boston’s
Jason Varitek–both have good reputations for their defensive play. Varitek
doesn’t throw the way he did in his prime, but his caught stealing percentages
have been 22 to 24 per cent over the last five seasons. Those aren’t great
percentages but they’re not terrible either and they’re remarkably consistent.
So I really don’t know why the stolen base seems to be on
the uptick in 2009. Teams are still hitting plenty of home runs; in fact, the
home run numbers for this April were up over the same numbers for April of
2008. Maybe the reasons for the surge in speed this week don’t matter. Maybe we
should just enjoy the spectacle of the stolen base…
With the Mets facing the possibility that Carlos Delgado may
be saddled with a chronically sore hip this season, they will have to start
considering alternate plans. If Delgado cannot play every day, or if his hip
prevents him from generating sufficient power, the Mets would be smart to move
Daniel Murphy to first base. Murphy has been nothing short of a defensive
disaster in the outfield this spring, as he combines the worst of Greg “The
Bull” Luzinski and Lonnie “Skates” Smith in left field. By putting Murphy at
first base, where he figures to be much more comfortable (he started his career
as a third baseman), the Mets would be forging a long-term solution at the
position. But here’s the problem: who steps in and plays left field? Gary
Sheffield has played poorly in spot duty, Fernando Tatis is best as a supersub,
and Jeremy Reed is no more than a stopgap. Perhaps Wily Mo Pena, currently at
Triple-A Buffalo, could provide some help. Unfortunately, the Mets don’t have
much else in terms of ready made offensive talent at Buffalo, where the Bisons
are running last in the International League in most major categories,
including batting average, home runs, and slugging percentage…
Finally, I’d like to extend thanks to those readers who
posted suggestions for this month’s homepage card image. I loved the suggestion
of the 1952 Topps Gus Zernial, with the various baseballs sticking to his bat, but
could not find a suitable image for posting purposes. So we’re going with a
1974 card of Jim Palmer, one of the underrated pitching greats of the 1970s,
for at least the first half of the new month. Always silky smooth, Palmer
pitched with a classic overhand throwing motion, releasing the ball from
seemingly the highest possible point above his head. Though surpassed by the
likes of Carlton,
Gibson, and Seaver, Palmer was one of the era’s second-tier Hall of Famers, and
the lynchpin to those great Orioles staffs of 1969-1971.
Eating Raul and Eating Those Ticket Prices
The Phillies knew that Raul Ibanez would give them nearly
the same level of offensive production as Pat Burrell, though they thought with
less power and more contact. Through the Phillies’ first 20 games, Ibanez has supplied
plenty of pop, to the tune of seven home runs and a .718 slugging percentage. What
has surprised the Philly brass even more is Ibanez’ defensive play in left
field, which was a subject of much mockery and scorn in Seattle. Ibanez looks like a completely
different fielder in Philadelphia.
He has shown much more mobility than Burrell, which has made life easier on
Shane Victorino in center field.
At some point, the Phillies will need to add some
right-handed hitting to their lineup, but it does not appear that it will come
at the expense of Ibanez’ playing time. If Ibanez continues to hit and defend
at his current level, the Phillies will not relegate him to platoon status.
They’ll have to incorporate right-handed hitting somewhere else, whether that’s
at catcher or third base, two positions where the Phillies currently sacrifice
offense for defense…
Not only did the Yankees do the right thing in reducing the
prices of some of their high-end box seats, they did the smart thing. Let’s
refer to the “Empty Seat Syndrome.” Empty seats are the worst thing that can
happen to a professional sports team. Empty seats don’t buy concession items.
Empty seats don’t buy souvenirs or memorabilia. Empty seats don’t tell their
friends about their wonderful experiences at the ballpark. On top of all that,
empty seats just look bad, especially when they are located so close to the
playing field. When a team is coming off back-to-back seasons of four million
fans in paid attendance, there is no excuse for not filling the
ballpark–especially a new one that has so many improvements over the old
house–on a regular basis. Hopefully, the Yankees have learned their lesson…
Finally, we will continue to take your suggestions on a new
baseball card image for the month of May and post the winner sometime this
weekend. So far, we have votes for Jim Palmer (one of the underrated pitching
greats of the seventies) and Dirty Kurt Bevacqua’s 1977 Topps card, which shows
him blowing a bubble of gargantuan proportions. Both are good suggestions, but
we’re willing to hear more.
A Smattering of Intelligence: Murky Manuel, Baseball Cards, and Shameless Promotion
The calendar has yet to turn from April to May, but the
calls for Jerry Manuel’s head have already begun to sound in New York. A second straight loss to the
previously slumping Marlins has created a sea of discontent, with much of the
focus centered on some bizarre strategy by Manuel in the ninth inning of
Wednesday afternoon’s loss to Florida.
With two outs and the bases loaded and the Mets down by a run, Manuel called
back Ramon Castro, who had banged out two hits in four at-bats. He summoned
backup catcher Omir Santos from the bullpen to pinch-hit, then watched him hit
a soft pop-up to end the game.
While the hue and cry for a change in managers is silly at
this early stage of the season, Manuel left me scratching my head with this
decision. Castro is a much better hitter than Santos, a career minor leaguer who has always
had a reputation as a good-field, weak-hit catcher. A few good games with the
Mets this past week should not have erased that reputation, nor should it have
fooled Manuel into thinking that Santos
posed more of an offensive threat than Castro. Bad move.
If Willie Randolph had pulled such a managerial rock, the New York media would
have roasted him. Manuel, who is a genuinely good guy and a great interview,
will probably be given a pass by most of the writers, but the fan base is beginning to lose patience with the Mets’ continuing ineptitude. In the meantime, expect
everyone to turn up the heat on David Wright, who looks lost at the plate and
in the field. Another target can be found in the Mets’ bullpen, which
was directly responsible for the one-run loss to the Marlins. J.J. Putz walked
the first two batters of the eighth inning, setting the stage for Florida’s comeback
rally. A few more outings like that, and we’ll start to hear speculation on
when Billy Wagner might be able to return this summer from Tommy John surgery.
It’s easy to forget that Wagner remains under contract to the Mets; just imagine a
three-man crew of Wagner, Putz and Francisco Rodriguez putting out fires in the
eighth and ninth innings of late-season games…
In anticipation of the new month of May, we’ll be changing our
baseball card image (which currently honors the late Dock Ellis) this weekend.
Feel free to submit nominations for a new card, either by posting a
recommendation here or by sending me an e-mail at bmarkusen@stny.rr.com. Topps cards are
preferred, but we’ll consider Upper Deck, Fleer, and Donruss cards, as well.
Heck, if the suggestion is a good one, we’ll consider just about any company…
On a promotional note, my 2006 book, The Team That Changed Baseball, is now out in paperback. The book
tells the story of the 1971 Pirates, who fielded major league baseball’s first
all-black lineup on the way to winning the world championship over the heavily
favored Orioles. For more information, or to purchase a copy (hint, hint),
please visit the website www.westholmepublishing.com.
My thanks to publisher Bruce Franklin for his continued support and faith in
the book.
Card Corner: Toby Harrah
Prior to Bucky Dent’s 1978 home run against the Red Sox, I have
to confess I wasn’t the man’s biggest fan. Although Dent was reliable
defensively, he had ordinary range and rarely made spectacular plays. He also
seemed to regress as a hitter each year, to the point that former WPIX
sportscaster Jerry Girard came up with one of the best lines I’ve ever heard delivered
on the nightly news. As Girard narrated Yankee highlights one night, he
blurted: “There’s Bucky Dent, with another line drive to the catcher.” My
father and I chuckled over that crack for days.
For most of the latter half of the 1970s, I wanted the Yankees
to replace Bucky Dent with one man: Toby Harrah. I think George Steinbrenner
shared that same dream, because every summer we Yankee fans in Westchester heard rumors that the Yankees were working on
a deal for Harrah, the starting shortstop for the Rangers. One summer day,
while we were eating lunch at Badger Camp–yes, I spent summers at a place
called Badger Camp, and I’m embarrassed to admit it–we exchanged some
conversation on a particularly hot Harrah rumor. I can’t remember the exact
names, but I think the deal would have sent Dent and one of the lesser starting
pitchers (Dick Tidrow?) to Texas
for Harrah. Heck, it sounded good to me, since the pitcher wasn’t named Guidry,
Figueroa, or Hunter.
I didn’t much care that some people regarded Toby Harrah as
a subpar defensive shortstop. I preferred to obsess about another fact: the man
could hit. He reached the 20-home run mark three times with the Rangers, usually
hit .260 or better, annually achieved double figures in stole bases, and drew a
ton of walks (though I didn’t know that much about on-base percentage at the
time). Even though the Rangers moved Harrah from shortstop to third base in 1977,
largely because of knocks against his range and reliability, I figured he could
make the switch back. As long as Harrah could play shortstop reasonably
well–you know, better than Bobby Murcer once did–I was going to be satisfied.
So I kept dreaming that Steinbrenner and the Yankees’ GM at the time (Gabe
Paul, followed by Al Rosen) would do whatever they could to get that deal
done.
Why did I like Harrah so much? In the mid-1970s, Harrah
represented a rare breed: an American League shortstop who could hit. Keep in
mind that Robin Yount had not yet entered his prime, Alan Trammell wouldn’t
arrive in Detroit until 1978 (and even then he was only 20), and Cal Ripken,
Jr.s’ debut remained several years away.
Most American League shortstops fell into the one-dimensional category
of all-field and little-hit, including the likes of Mark “The Blade” Belanger, Dave
Chalk, Frank Duffy, and Tom Veryzer. Compared to those noodle bats, Harrah
looked like an Adonis in the batter’s box.
The plan to bring in Harrah sounded good. Considering the
depth of the Yankees’ pitching staff, giving up a second-tier pitcher in
addition to Dent seemed doable. There was just one problem. The Rangers had to
agree to the deal, too. They negotiated with the Yankees off and on, with
Harrah’s name periodically being mentioned in rumors, but the two sides could not
reach the appropriate compromise. After the 1978 season, the Rangers finally
received an offer they couldn’t refuse. Only it didn’t come from the Yankees.
Instead, the Rangers found a trading partner in the Indians, who agreed to give
up All-Star third baseman Buddy Bell.
Harrah spent five mostly productive seasons with the Tribe. By
the early 1980s, I had forgotten about Harrah, who had entrenched himself as a
durable and productive player in Cleveland.
It was time to move on. The dream had ended.
In February of 1984, with the Yankees collecting infielders
the way I once collected postage stamps, the team announced a surprising trade.
The deal sent reliever George Frazier and minor league speedster Otis Nixon to
the Indians–for Harrah, of course. By then, Harrah was no longer a shortstop;
he had long since been converted to third base. He was no longer an All-Star
either, with his home run production falling off from 25 to nine in his final season with the Tribe.
At 34, Harrah looked well past his prime.
Lots of folks didn’t understand the trade, including me. The
Yankees already had Graig Nettles and Roy Smalley available to play third.
Nettles eventually vacated the premises, mostly because he ticked off The Boss
with the contents of his tell-all book, Balls.
Harrah ended up splitting time with Smalley, hit all of one home run in
pinstripes, and slugged an ungodly .296. Clearly not the player he once was, Harrah
became trade bait after the season, sent to the Rangers for outfielder Billy
Sample. Harrah would play better in Texas,
but that only made me feel worse.
In the meantime, the Yankees continued their search for a
new shortstop, some of whom could hit, some of whom could field, and some who
could barely stand up. Smalley tried and failed, as did Andre Robertson, Bobby
Meacham, Paul Zuvella, Wayne Tolleson (another personal favorite), Rafael
Santana, Alvaro Espinoza, Spike Owen, and even a fading Tony Fernandez.
The Yankees’ quagmire of shortstop mediocrity continued until
1995. That’s when Toby Harrah finally arrived. Not the actual Toby Harrah, but a newer, better version of Toby Harrah.
Like Harrah, he would receive his fair share of criticism for his defensive
failures, but he would do wondrous things offensively and help spearhead the
next Yankee dynasty.
Yes, Toby Harrah finally did arrive–in the form of a
21-year-old phenom named Derek Jeter.
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