Year: 2010

By all appearances, Ernie Fazio is doing well.

Decades removed from baseball, the former Houston Colt .45’s and Kansas City Athletics infielder lives in Alamo, California in a sprawling house currently listing for $1.5 million. This past weekend found him celebrating news of his daughter’s engagement to a son of former Oakland Raiders offensive tackle John Vella. At 68, Fazio says he is in good health and looks it too.

So why did Fazio sue Major League Baseball? Fazio is among 872 players who don’t qualify for a pension or health benefits. I learned of Fazio from Douglas J. Gladstone’s book, A Bitter Cup of Coffee, available on his Web site, which follows these ballplayers’ efforts to obtain benefits. Fazio has a good life. Not every player in the book is so lucky.

Fazio said he’s been involved for two years in a lawsuit for benefits. Prior to that, Fazio was a lead plaintiff in an unsuccessful 2003 suit against baseball. “I’m doing it for the other players,” Fazio told me during an interview at his home Monday. “Everybody that played in the major leagues should be vested.”

Starting in 1947, baseball offered pensions to any player with five years service. In 1969, this was lowered to four years. Then in 1980, the stipulation for vesting changed to one day of service for health benefits and 43 days for a retirement allowance. But the changes weren’t retroactive, so Fazio and others who played less than four years between 1947 and 1979 got nothing. Their brief careers were what’s termed in baseball as cups of coffee, and Gladstone writes, “One might even suggest that these men gulped bitter cups of coffee.”

Fazio received $100,000 from Houston upon signing in 1962, and he said he invested, which helped him buy his house 35 years ago. He’s worked primarily in sanitation since leaving baseball. Other players affected have had varying levels of success. Some stories are moving: men disabled from playing, others facing illnesses without help from baseball.

Count Gladstone among their supporters– his views are clear from the outset of his polemical, engaging book. Gladstone told me independent houses were interested in publishing his 192-page work in 2011 but he chose to self-publish in April because time matters. Dave Marash writes in the foreword:

This is all about 874 former players, all of them now at least middle-aged. None will ever play again, and every year, they are dying off…. And, as of now, they are getting little or nothing from the game they loved. Fixing this inadvertent injustice can be done, if both the owners and [the] players decide to do it. It will cost them marginal money to do so. They say they’ll look at it in their next 2011 negotiation, but they should stop looking and start acting now. A simple side agreement could be executed anytime.

I admire Gladstone’s advocacy, though I have less faith the economics would be simple, especially in these tough times. Giving 900 men, say, a $5,000 pension would cost $4.5 million annually, even if this would gradually decrease to nothing as players die. As Gladstone writes, baseball has no legal obligation to provide assistance, and while it would be admirable, I understand why it wouldn’t be feasible.

I support universal health care, though and until America does too, I think baseball should help its former players. I understand this is a polarizing issue, and I generally strive to keep this site free of politics, though I will say that to stand idly by while non-vested players grapple with medical woes doesn’t just seem petty, cheap, or cold. It seems inhumane.

Baseball could grant medical coverage to these men– it can do whatever it wants, really– or if it insists on following the 1980 agreement, I have another idea: Why not give the non-vested players another cup of coffee?

As mentioned earlier, it takes one day in the majors for someone to qualify for lifetime medical coverage. There are currently 872 non-vested former players and 30 big league teams, so in September, when rosters expand from 25 players to 40, each team could offer these men one-day gigs as coaches or even inactive players. It would mirror an event Gladstone writes of when teams gave signing bonuses to former Negro League players who fell short of vesting requirements. Under my idea, with each team helping about 30 players over the season’s final month, this could get knocked out by playoff time next year.

It might not be quite what Gladstone, Fazio, and others are aiming for. But this cup of coffee wouldn’t be nearly so bitter.

Related: A recent interview Gladstone gave to CBS News

Here is the latest guest post from Joe Guzzardi. On Friday, I offered a list of the 10 best postseason pitching performances of all-time. There were two glaring omissions: 1) Tim Lincecum, who put together one of the best performances in playoff history while I was writing my post Thursday evening; 2) Bob Gibson, who I simply didn’t review carefully enough. Joe’s post today tells of the postseason brilliance of both men.

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Tim Lincecum’s two hit, 14 strike out, 1-0 playoff opener against the overmatched Atlanta Braves was the most dominant pitching performance I’ve seen since Bob Gibson blew away the Detroit Tigers in the first 1968 World Series game.

Gibson mowed down the Tigers 4-0 and stuck out seventeen while walking only one in the process. The Tigers batting order included Al Kaline, Norm Cash, Willie Horton and an aging but still dangerous Eddie Mathews. The only Tiger threat came in the first inning when Kaline doubled.

Watch Gibson strike out the side in the ninth inning here as broadcast by Harry Caray and Curt Gowdy:

Whether Lincecum will eventually join Gibson as one of baseball’s all-time great pitchers will not be known for some time. Even though the two-time Cy Young winner Lincecum is off to a good start, Gibson occupies rarefied air.

In the eight seasons from 1963 to 1970, Gibson won 156 games (of his eventual 251 total) and lost 81 for a .658 winning percentage. Gibson also won nine Gold Glove Awards, the World Series MVP in 1964 and 1967, Cy Young Awards in 1968 and 1970 as well as the league MVP in 1968.

Gibson reached his pitching apex in 1968 with his 22-9 record and 1.12 ERA, a live-ball era record. In a season that may never be matched, Gibson also pitched 28 complete games, 13 of them shut outs.

An outstanding money pitcher Gibson, in his three World Series, notched a 7-2 record with a 1.89 ERA in nine starts (eight complete games) against the New York Yankees, the Boston Red Sox and the Tigers. Gibson struck out 92 batters during his 82 innings pitched.

Unlike today’s pitchers, Gibson lived on the inside of the plate.Dusty Baker received the following advice from Hank Aaron about facing Gibson:

“Don’t dig in against Bob Gibson, he’ll knock you down. He’d knock down his own grandmother if she dared to challenge him. Don’t stare at him, don’t smile at him, and don’t talk to him. He doesn’t like it. If you happen to hit a home run, don’t run too slow, don’t run too fast. If you happen to want to celebrate, get in the tunnel first. And if he hits you, don’t charge the mound, because he’s a Gold Glove boxer.”

While Gibson had a reputation for being hostile to even his teammates, he was gracious (in retirement) to his opponents. Gibson has never taken any bows for his incredible achievements. When asked about them, Gibson defers to Nolan Ryan and Tom Seaver who he says are the best pitchers he ever faced. Ryan and Seaver, in return, claim that they were never in Gibson’s league.

The Cardinals retired Gibson’s number 45 in 1975 and, in 1981, Gibson was a first ballot inductee into the Baseball Hall Of Fame. In 1999, Gibson ranked number 31 on The Sporting News’ list of the 100 Greatest Baseball Players, and was elected to the Major League Baseball All-Century Team.

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Joe Guzzardi belongs to the Society for American Baseball Research, as well as the Internet Baseball Writers Association of America. Email him at guzzjoe@yahoo.com

1. Don Larsen, 1956 World Series: Larsen is and may always be number one here, at least until another man throws a perfect game in the postseason.

2. Roy Halladay, 2010 National League Division Playoffs: This season, Halladay became the latest pitcher with 20 wins his first year in a new league, and on Wednesday, he threw the second no-hitter in the postseason history. Right now, Halladay looks like the National League Cy Young, and his Phillies look unstoppable.

3. Christy Matthewson, 1905 World Series: Aside from the individual efforts of Larsen and Halladay, this is perhaps the greatest overall postseason performance. Matthewson was the New York Giants in the 1905 Fall Classic, winning three of their four games, all by shutouts. More impressively, he did it in the span of six days.

4. Howard Ehmke, 1929 World Series: Ehmke was an aging junk baller who sat the A’s bench most of 1929. Years later in Ehmke’s obituary, Red Smith wrote how late that season, A’s manager Connie Mack summoned Ehmke to release him. Ehmke responded, “Mr. Mack, I have always wanted to to pitch in a World Series. Mr. Mack, there is one great game left in this old arm.” Mack ordered Ehmke to stay behind when Philadelphia went on a road trip and scout the Cubs. “Learn all you can about their hitters,” Mack told Ehmke. “Say nothing to anybody. You are my opening pitcher for the World Series.” Ehmke set a World Series record with 13 strikeouts, winning 3-1 in a complete game.

5. Johnny Podres, 1955 World Series: It wasn’t so much Podres’ performance in that World Series that gets him here– not that he wasn’t  excellent, with two complete game wins. The key is that Podres helped the long-suffering Brooklyn Dodgers finally win a championship, ensuring their victory with his Game Seven shutout.

6. Orel Hershisher, 1988 postseason: Hershiser rode his record-setting scoreless inning streak into the playoffs and then went 3-0 with a 1.05 ERA between the NLCS and the World Series, recording the winning games in both stages of the postseason. He even had a save in the NLCS and went 3-3 at the plate in the World Series with two doubles and an RBI.

7. Jack Morris, 1991 World Series: If Morris is elected to the Hall of Fame, a television should be set up next to his plaque, keeping a constant loop of his masterful, 10-inning victory in Game Seven in 1991. His opponent that day, John Smoltz, was impressive too and could rate as an honorable mention here.

8. Curt Schilling, 2004 American League Championship Series: Like Podres, Schilling helped his team break a long spell of postseason futility. And he did so with panache, winning Game Six of the ALCS for Boston while pitching with a sock bloodied from an ankle injury. The image is the baseball equivalent of Willis Reed limping through the tunnel to the NBA Finals.

9. Mickey Lolich, 1968 World Series: How did the Detroit Tigers beat Bob Gibson, his 1.12 regular season ERA, and his St. Louis Cardinals in 1968? By getting three wins from Lolich, including a Game Seven victory over Gibson.

10. Sandy Koufax, 1965 World Series: Koufax and his Dodgers had a forgettable Fall Classic in his final season, 1966, getting swept by the Orioles. The year before, however, Koufax shut out the Twins twice in leading Los Angeles to a seven-game victory.

Related: A collection of lists

What he did: In essence, Clemente transcended his era. Playing in a time when pitchers ruled, Clemente won four batting titles in a seven-year stretch in the 1960s and hit above .330 four times in the decade. He also won 12 consecutive Gold Gloves from 1961 through 1972 and was known for his cannon arm in right field. Much as he thrived and put together a Hall of Fame career in his day, imagine if Clemente played in an age better suited to his abilities.

Era he might have thrived in: Assuming we suspend debate over whether Clemente’s skin complexion would keep him from playing before 1947, he might have excelled with the Philadelphia Athletics in the early 1900s.

Why: There are a number of reasons I could see this working.

First off, the Deadball Era in general offered huge ballparks that would have suited Clemente’s spray contact hitting abilities and not hampered his defense, given his arm. In fact, I think Clemente might have stood out defensively in the time. He wouldn’t have won Gold Gloves, since the award wasn’t given out prior to 1957, but he’d probably still be remembered for his defense today. After all, Deadball Era first baseman Hal Chase got included in a book on the 100 greatest players of all-time in 1981 primarily for his fielding work. Clemente’s 266 career assists are lower than many Deadball Era outfielders, but I still have a hunch he’d thrive.

I also see Clemente working well with longtime A’s manager Connie Mack, a low-key gentleman who asked nothing less from his players. Mack might have welcomed a man as fine as Clemente, who died in a plane crash in 1972, transporting relief supplies to earthquake victims. Their temperaments would have suited one another.

Clemente also might have significantly upped his batting average playing in the Deadball Era. Depending on when he debuted, Clemente might hit .400, something he never did during his career. In real life, Clemente peaked at .357 in 1967, winning his fourth and final batting title in a year where the National League ERA was 3.38. On the A’s in 1901, when the American League ERA was 3.66, the Baseball-Reference.com converter tool shows Clemente hitting .410 for his 1967 season. Playing every year of his career on a team like those A’s, Clemente would hit .352 lifetime, 35 points better than his actual career average and fourth best all-time.

Last, but not least, here’s an interesting bit of trivia. On the 1901 A’s, assuming the converter is correct, Clemente and Nap Lajoie would be .400 hitting teammates. In all of baseball history, this has happened once, on the 1894 Philadelphia Phillies who boasted a .400-hitting outfield, hit .350 as a team, and still finished fourth. The A’s also finished fourth in 1901, employing a mostly forgettable outfield few modern fans would know. With Clemente in place, I’m guessing those A’s might have had a much more memorable year.

Any player/Any era is a Thursday feature here that looks at how a player might have done in an era besides his own.

Others in this series: Albert Pujols, Barry Bonds, Bob Caruthers, Dom DiMaggio, Fritz Maisel, George Case, Harmon Killebrew, Home Run Baker, Johnny Frederick, Josh Hamilton, Ken Griffey Jr., Nate Colbert, Pete Rose,Rickey Henderson, Sandy Koufax, Shoeless Joe Jackson, The Meusel Brothers, Ty Cobb

Here’s the latest from Joe Guzzardi, a regular Wednesday contributor here. Today, Joe provides some wonderful insight into Sal Maglie on the eve of his impressive, but losing, effort in Don Larsen’s perfect game in the 1956 World Series.

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Earlier this month while I was researching Sal Maglie for my post “Bring Back the High Hard One,” I came across the You Tube video from the television program What’s My Line? Maglie appears as the mystery guest.

I’ve since watched the video maybe a dozen times and noticed a few things that I missed the first time around. All provide interesting insights into that long ago baseball era and, specifically, to the famous 1956 Don Larsen-Maglie perfect game World Series match up.

The first thing I caught was Arlene Francis, in a reference to her fellow panelist Phil Rizzuto, ask Maglie if he would be worried about Scooter if he were still with the New York Yankees “where he belongs…”

This was a swipe at Yankee general manager George Weiss and Casey Stengel whose horrible treatment of Rizzuto angered the team’s fans.

On August 25, 1956, the Yankees in a most inglorious way released Rizzuto despite his outstanding career. The Yankees, having reacquired Enos Slaughter who had been with the team in 1954–55, summoned Rizzuto to the front office allegedly to discuss the postseason roster.

Weiss asked Rizzuto to review the current list of Yankee players and to suggest which ones might be cut to make room for Slaughter. For each name Rizzuto mentioned, Weiss offered a reason why that player had to be kept.

Finally, Rizzuto realized that he was the expendable player. For years, although Rizzuto never publicly complained, he harbored deep resentment toward the Yankees.

Back to What’s My Line?

When after very little time the panel identified Maglie, moderator John Daly suggested that the purpose for their blindfolds wasn’t because they would instantly recognize the famous Dodger pitcher but that Rizzuto would identify him by the suit he was wearing.

After a few more listens and more digging, I realized that Maglie bought his coat at All American Clothing, a men’s store in Bayonne, New Jersey where Rizzuto and other Yankees worked part time to make ends meet.

Can you imagine anyone in baseball today having a winter job in retail sales?

Finally, Bennett Cerf asked Maglie: “How about tomorrow, Sal?”

“Tomorrow,” I learned, was Monday, October 8, when Maglie pitched against Larsen in Game Five.

Interestingly, the Dodgers and Yankees had played a Sunday game. Maglie must have left the Dodger club house immediately after the fourth World Series game, gone to the CBS network (on a subway?) to participate in a prime time game show and then headed home to rest up before his start against the Yankees the next afternoon.

Maglie promised Cerf that he would “give ‘em all I’ve got,” and noted that the Yankees had “a great ball club” and “let the best team win.” In the series opener, Maglie had outpitched Whitey Ford, 6-3, tossing a complete game.

And Maglie certainly did give it his best. He held the Yankees to five hits, one a Mickey Mantle solo homer, and two earned runs. As we all know, it wasn’t enough.

But even some of the most avid Yankee rooters pulled for Sal. As Yankee fan Daly told Maglie at the end of the show, the only time he wants to see his team lose is when Sal pitches.

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Joe Guzzardi belongs to the Society for American Baseball Research, as well as the Internet Baseball Writers Association of America. Email him at guzzjoe@yahoo.com

When I was in seventh grade, I participated for the first time in an event called the 24 Hour Relay. Held at the track of a high school I later attended, the event had teams of ten students take turns running a mile. I was a fairly decent miler, as were a few of my friends on the team, and we wound up winning. Our victory was not without controversy, though, as a few of our teammates were accused of skipping laps in the dead of night. We protested vociferously, and our victory was upheld, but the teammates admitted privately a year or two later that they cheated. No one ever found out, so far as I know, but it tainted the achievement, at least for me.

I was reminded of this on Sunday as I listened on the radio as the San Francisco Giants clinched the National League West with a 3-0 win over the San Diego Padres. I grew up in Northern California and have been a Giants fan since I was old enough to cheer for them. I started going to Giants games just after the Battle of the Bay, had my young hopes crushed when they lost the NL West on the last day of the 1993 season, and then watched them soar to greater heights by the end of the decade. Their rise culminated with a trip to the 2002 World Series, but this wasn’t without controversy either, as several members of the team were implicated for using performance enhancing drugs, most notably megastar Barry Bonds. It tainted the achievement, at least for me.

Several years have passed now, the Giants have a completely different team. There is no Bonds on this team, no ragtag squad united a steroid-addled hulk. The feeling’s different with these guys, and their playoff berth doesn’t feel like a bogus, non-achievement. It feels honorable, decent. I don’t know what the Giants will do in the playoffs (Atlanta? Philadelphia after? yikes) but if they don’t go any further, I’m proud of what they have done.

Now if only I can reunite my friends for another rendition of the 24 Hour Relay.

Here’s the latest guest post from Joe Guzzardi, a regular contributor here. Every Saturday for the past few months, Joe has been offering “Double the fun,” looking at one memorable doubleheader each week. This will be the final edition of the column until next baseball season.

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Pitch count fanatics take note.

On September 26, 1908 the Chicago Cubs’ “Big” Ed Reulbach pitched two complete game shut outs, allowing only eight hits, in both ends of a double header against the arch rival Brooklyn Supurbas. Reulbach prevailed 5-0 and 3-0. The nightcap took 1:12.

For good measure, Reulbach followed up with a 6-0 October 1 shut out at Cincinnati before ending his season with another win over the Reds on October 3, 16-2.

The Cubs along with the Pittsburgh Pirates and New York Giants were locked in a tight pennant race. With the Chicago pitching staff worn out, Reulbach stepped up to help the Cubs finish first and go on to its last winning World Series appearance by knocking off the Detroit Tigers, 4-1.

By the time the Cubs got to the series, Reulbach was worn out, too. The Tigers knocked him out in the seventh inning of the first game which the Cubs eventually won in a 10-6 slugfest. In game three, Reulbach pitched one scoreless inning in relief in the Cubs only loss, 8-3.

Cut from the same cloth as Christy Mathewson, Reulbach was an outstanding dead ball era hurler on the field. Off it, like Mathewson, Reulbach promoted clean living and followed his own advice.

Although he never received a single Hall of Fame vote, Reulbach’s career statistics are imposing. Over Reulbach’s 13-year career, he posted a 182-106 record with a 2.28 ERA

Reulbach hurled two one-hitters, six two-hitters, and 13 three-hitters. In 1906, his best year (24-7; 2.03), Reulbach yielded 5.33 hits per nine innings, still the third-lowest ratio of all time. Reulbach also gave up fewer hits than innings pitched in each of his 13 seasons.

Reulbach’s post-baseball years were a mix of professional success and personal tragedy. Reulbach earned a Columbia University law degree and became one of the founding directors of the Baseball Fraternity, the forerunner of the Player’s Union. In 1945, Reulbach copyrighted the “Leadership Development Plan” that rotated a team’s captain among all nine players, one inning at a time, to encourage team effort.

According to Cubs’ teammate Johnny Evers, Reulbach was always “five years ahead of his time in baseball thought.”

In 1976, 14 years after Reulbach’s death, Esquire Magazine published baseball writer Harry Stein’s “All Time, All Star Argument Starter” that consisted of five ethnic teams. Stein named Reulbach the Jewish right handed starting pitcher.

Unfortunately for Stein and in what serves as a glowing example to journalists everywhere to research carefully and completely, Reulbach was not Jewish but a Roman Catholic who pitched at University of Notre Dame and is buried in Immaculate Conception Cemetery.

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Joe Guzzardi belongs to the Society for American Baseball Research, as well as the Internet Baseball Writers Association of America. Email him at guzzjoe@yahoo.com