Month: November 2011

I have a guest post up on The Hardball Times about baseball players who received one vote for the Hall of Fame. There are 59 Hall of Famers who fall into this category including Joe DiMaggio. If ever anyone wondered if there’s a way to group Joltin’ Joe with Mark Davis, Benito Santiago, and Pat Hentgen, here it is.

Jerry Priddy was one of those 1940s-1950s players who played well enough. In two seasons with the New York Yankees, three with the Washington Senators, two with the St. Louis Browns and four with the Detroit Tigers, Priddy was a steady if not spectacular performer.

Career line: G-1,296; ABs-4,720; HR-61; RBIs-541; BA-.265

But if you take a look at Priddy’s 1952 Topps baseball card #28 on this page, you would think he was one of the era’s greatest sluggers.

One of the things I most miss from baseball long ago is the on-deck hitter swinging a half- a-dozen bats as he waited his turn. When Elston Howard invented the doughnut in the 1960s, originally called an “on-deck bat weight.” I figured it was a convenient way for players to loosen up that would achieve the same results as the multi-bat system. Once the weight is removed from the bat, the lumber gets lighter so the swing can speed up—or so the thinking went.

But as recently reported by the Wall Street Journal, based on studies conducted at the University of Hawaii, a weight increase or decrease on a player’s bat between 10 percent and 13 percent will decrease bat speed from three to five miles per hour.

Physical education professor Coop DeRenne has studied the doughnut’s adverse effect on hitters for more than 20 years. DeRenne called Major League Baseball “a dinosaur sport” for refusing to recognize the value of his research. According to DeRenne, more than a dozen big league batting coaches and managers agreed that players are foolishly locked into routine and superstition—a good start but not enough to convince MLB bureaucrats.

Returning to Priddy, his post-baseball years were more interesting than his 11 year career. After he left the Tigers in 1953, Priddy spent four years in the Pacific Coast League as a player (Seattle Rainers, Sacramento Solons and San Francisco Seals) and one as a manager (Solons). Then in 1973, the FBI arrested Priddy in California on charges of trying to extort $250,000 from a steamship company by threatening to place a bomb aboard the Island Princess, one of its vessels.He was convicted and sentenced to nine months in prison.

Priddy’s former teammate Phil Rizzuto later said the he could never believe “that whole extortion thing.”

Rizzuto said:

That wasn’t the Gerry I knew. He was outspoken and hotheaded … but outside of baseball he was a regular guy. He knew a lot of prominent business people. It just didn’t make sense. He called me when he got out of prison and told me if he’d have to spend one more day in there he’d have been a hardened criminal.

The highlight of Priddy’s career may have come during World War II when, in Hawaii as a young private, he played alongside Joe DiMaggio for the 7^th Army Air Force Flyers. Priddy also appeared in the Army-Navy Service World Series in October 1944.

What he did: It started with something I read on Twitter that Dwight Gooden hit eight home runs lifetime. That didn’t seem all that awe-inspiring, given that I recently wrote here about Don Drysdale’s hitting prowess, noting he went yard 29 times during his career. I got to wondering if Drysdale had the record for most home runs hit by a pitcher. He does not. That record belongs to Wes Ferrell, whose brother Rick might be the worst player in the Hall of Fame. When people complain about Rick’s induction, they sometimes cite that he wasn’t even the best member of his family. Wes Ferrell isn’t enshrined, but even so, he’s a unique player in baseball history.

In a 15-season career between 1927 and 1941, Ferrell went 193-128 with a 4.04 ERA, winning 20 games six times. It’s his career batting numbers, though, that place him in a special class: players with 10+ WAR for both pitching and hitting. Over 1,176 at-bats, Ferrell hit .280 with 38 home runs, 208 RBI, and 11.2 lifetime offensive WAR. His career OPS+ of 100 suggests he was comparable to an average batter of his time, no easy feat in the hitter-friendly era immediately preceding World War II. The 37 homers Ferrell hit as a pitcher are a record, as are the nine he hit in 1931. In another era, his offensive numbers could be greater still.

Era he might have thrived in: In his own time, Ferrell was a rotation-anchoring pitcher, sometimes brilliant, often temperamental. He also pinch hit and occasionally roamed the outfield, even smacking one of his home runs while in the lineup as a field player. With the Colorado Rockies in the late 1990s, Ferrell could have his choice of playing outfield full-time or being the best-hitting pitcher in the modern era, bar none.

Why: I’ll start by running the Baseball-Reference.com stat conversions, which are insane. In 1931 with the Indians, Ferrell hit .319 with nine home runs and 30 RBI in 116 at-bats. On the 1999 Rockies, Ferrell’s numbers convert to 10 home runs, 41 RBI, and a .341 batting average in 126 at-bats. Projecting those conversions to a 600 at-bat season, Ferrell would theoretically hit 48 home runs and 195 RBI (though some leveling off in production over a year would be expected.) The idea of Ferrell playing full-time in the field isn’t too outlandish. His pitching arm, good for a career-high of 143 strikeouts in 1930, might make him a great sidekick for cannon-armed right fielder Larry Walker.

Course, Ferrell’s already-colorful pitching line might get grotesque on the ’99 Rockies, who surrendered 1,028 runs and boasted a 6.01 ERA as a staff. Converting Ferrell’s 1931 numbers– 22-12 record with a 3.75 ERA for Cleveland– he’d go 18-12 with a 4.57 ERA and 144 walks for Colorado if he stuck with pitching full-time. It’d be nothing Cy Young-worthy, and Ferrell’s career ERA might approach 5.00. But Ferrell still could be the Rockies staff ace, and it’s worth nothing he pitched some of his best actual years in League Park II, perhaps the Coors Field of its time. Even if Ferrell were more a position player for Colorado, say the starting left fielder, he’d at least make a heck of a surprise relief pitcher from time to time, a secret weapon for the Rockies if there ever was one.

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: Al Simmons, Albert Pujols, Babe Ruth, Bad News Rockies,Barry Bonds, Billy Beane, Billy Martin, Bob Caruthers, Bob Feller, Bob Watson,Bobby Veach, Carl Mays, Charles Victory Faust, Chris von der Ahe,Denny McLain, Dom DiMaggio, Don Drysdale, Eddie Lopat, Frank Howard, Fritz Maisel, Gavvy Cravath, George Case, George Weiss, Harmon Killebrew, Harry Walker, Home Run Baker, Honus Wagner, Hugh Casey, Ichiro Suzuki, Jack Clark, Jackie Robinson, Jim Abbott, Jimmy Wynn, Joe DiMaggio, Joe Posnanski, Johnny Antonelli, Johnny Frederick, Josh Hamilton, Ken Griffey Jr., Lefty Grove, Lefty O’Doul, Major League (1989 film),Matty Alou, Michael Jordan, Monte Irvin, Nate Colbert, Paul Derringer, Pedro Martinez, Pee Wee Reese, Pete Rose, Prince Fielder, Ralph Kiner, Rick Ankiel, Rickey Henderson,Roberto Clemente, Rogers Hornsby, Sam Crawford, Sam Thompson,Sandy Koufax, Satchel Paige, Shoeless Joe Jackson, Stan Musial, Ted Williams, The Meusel Brothers, Ty Cobb, Vada Pinson, Wally Bunker, Will Clark, Willie Mays

Although Mario Mendoza is synonymous with batting ineptitude– thus the infamous “Mendoza Line” used in reference to hitting less than .200– I prefer Lou Limmer.

First, the “Lou Limmer Line” is more mellifluous. But even better, Limmer ended his career with a .202 average, a full 13 points below Mendoza’s .215 (though Mendoza still sets the standard for anemic production with his OPS+ of 44, far below Limmer’s 75.) Limmer was also the more interesting player, by far.

Of Mendoza, little was expected. He played good glove, no bat for the Pittsburgh Pirates, the Seattle Mariners and the Texas Rangers before calling it quits and returning to his native Mexico. But the highly-touted Limmer was an acute disappointment for the long suffering Philadelphia Athletics’ fans.

Here’s Limmer’s write up from the 1951 A’s yearbook:

Pride of the A’s farm system is Lollopin’ Lou Limmer who was voted the Rookie of the Year for American Association in 1950. Lou slammed 29 homers and drove in 111 runs to lead the Association in both categories. Lou hopes he’s here to stay.

But Limmer bombed; he hit .159 with only five home runs in 94 games. Not until 1954 did Philadelphia see Limmer again. That year, he performed slightly better, hitting .231 with 14 homers in 115 games.

As the 1954 A’s yearbook ominously wrote:

Lou has never quite lived up to expectations but he is hoping this will be his year of fulfillment.

That was it for Limmer. As the A’s prepared to move to Kansas City, Limmer would return to AAA Columbus where he hit 28 homers and knocked in 82. Limmer is one of dozens of players who tore up the minors but couldn’t cut it in the big leagues. In 11 minor league seasons, Limmer hit 244 homers and batted over .280 five times.

A’s fans certainly missed Limmer. Famous for his prodigious pre-game slugging performances, A’s fans labeled Limmer “the Babe Ruth of batting practice.”

Even though his career was short, Limmer came in and went out with a bang. In his first Yankee Stadium appearance on April 23, 1951, the Bronx native powered a ninth inning pinch hit home run against Yankee ace Vic Raschi. Then, in 1954 on September 25 and 26 in their last games before the team moved to Kansas City, Limmer got the A’s last hit, a single off the Yankees’ Bob Grim and the team’s last home run, a solo shot off Yankees’ relief pitcher Johnny Sain.

Limmer was also part of baseball’s only three-way, all Jewish confrontation. OnMay 2, 1951 with the A’s at Detroit, the Tigers’ battery was pitcher Saul Rogovin and catcher Joe Ginsberg. Limmer pinch hit in the top of the ninth (again!) and hit a two-run homer off Rogovin’s first pitch to tie the game at 3-3. The A’s however, being the A’s, lost the tenth, 5-4. Limmer recalls his home run here.

Although it’s easy to poke good natured fun at Limmer, the Philadelphia Athletics’ Historical Society points out that in the 1950s Limmer was competing for one of 400 major league jobs. Today, the number is 750 and the slick fielding first baseman with his occasional power would be a welcome addition to most clubs.

Limmer, an Army Air Corps veteran and a big favorite at A’s reunions, died in 2007 at age 82.

Stan Musial retired in 1963, having just concluded his then-record 20th consecutive all-star season, a surefire Hall of Famer and all-time great. In 21 Major League seasons, all in St. Louis, Musial amassed 3,630 hits, a .331 batting average, 475 homeruns, and three MVP trophies. He was and still is the undisputed greatest Cardinal of all-time.

But today, almost 50 years after Musial’s last game, another St. Louis slugger is threatening Stan’s title. Albert Pujols is 31 years old (or so he says) and already one of the most accomplished players in baseball history. The first-baseman has matched Musial’s MVP total, and, according to baseballreference.com, Pujols’s career WAR of 88.7 ties him with Carl Yastrzemski for 42nd all-time.

But Pujols is a free-agent this off-season, and we can all agree that it’s loads of fun to transpose his face onto opposing teams’ uniforms. Rumor has landed him everywhere from Chicago to Miami, yet consensus remains that the Dominican-born Missouri native will remain under the Gateway Arch’s shadow. Were Pujols to leave St. Louis, he would sacrifice the opportunity to ascend the list of Cardinals legends and surpass Musial as the storied franchise’s greatest player ever.

11 seasons into his Major League career, Pujols’s numbers are strikingly Musial-like. After Stan the Man’s 11th full season in the majors (1953), he boasted a lifetime OPS+ of 172, 3,746 total bases and a WAR of 89.6. Pujols, to this point, owns an OPS+ of 170, 3,893 total bases and a WAR of 88.7. Statistically, the two are, through 11 seasons, essentially identical.

But, upon closer examination, Musial’s early-career numbers aren’t quite as impressive as they appear. While many of his contemporaries missed three seasons to World War II service, Musial fought for only one. The absence of Major League star-power on the mound helped fuel some of Stan’s most productive seasons. He topped the league in OPS+ in both 1943 and 44, winning an MVP and padding his career stats with two years of sub-standard competition. Numbers he accrued during this time period can’t be taken at face value.

And while we’ve examined the pair through the first 11 seasons of their respective careers, Pujols is two years younger than Musial was at that point (if, of course, Pujols’s reported age is to be believed). And while Pujols’s statistics regressed slightly in 2011, a strong second half suggests that he should bounce back with a typical MVP-caliber campaign in 2012. Musial followed the aforementioned 11-season start to his career with an exceptional 1954, before falling off marginally in ’55 and ’56, bouncing back to finish 2nd in the NL MVP voting in ’57 and declining steadily from there. The second half of his career was productive but not other-worldly (he was no Barry Bonds), and there’s no reason to believe Pujols can’t follow a comparable pattern. Barring injury or unforeseen decline, Pujols should remain on his Musial-like pace.

So Pujols will, regardless of location, retire with extraordinary career totals. If he remains in St. Louis he could very well end up the greatest player in Cardinals history. If he spurns common expectation and leaves town, he’ll have to settle for being one of the ten or fifteen best players of all-time. Assuming that he stays in St. Louis, Stan the Man better look out; El Hombre is on a historic pace.

I recently came across a book about a subject which I must admit hasn’t always been near and dear to my heart despite my heritage.  It was about Canadians who have played in the major leagues, focusing mainly on Larry Walker, but covering a history that dates back to the 1800’s.

There was one name there which especially caught my eye, a player I had forgotten about but one I consider to be one of the best to have come out of Canada.  What to my mind made this player all the more remarkable was not only that he came from Canada, but where in Canada he came from.

Terry Puhl played 15 seasons in the major leagues and was a mainstay of the Houston Astros from 1977 until his retirement with the Kansas City royals in 1991.  His career stats include a .280 batting average,  62 homeruns and 435 RBI.  Not remarkable or eye popping perhaps but when taken in the context of the times, much better than average.

In those days, visits by scouts to hockey mad Canada were either few and far between, or subject to more skepticism than visits around the USA.  Certainly this attitude was justified.  The baseball season in Canada is much shorter than the USA or countries in the warmer climes.  Competent baseball coaches in Canada were seldom found and Canadian kids blossomed a couple of years later if at all compared to those in other countries.  The warmer regions of Canada are in British Columbia and southern Ontario and even those seasons are relatively short.

For a kid coming out of Melville, Saskatchewan, the odds must have seemed greater than impossible.  At the risk of generalizing, the prairies of Saskatchewan are cold and the winters are long.  Ideal for hockey, not so good for baseball.  How could a kid from this place even dream about being a professional baseball player?

After signing with the Astros in 1973, Puhl came up to stay in July 1977.  He immediately became the Astros regular left fielder and batted .301 in 60 games.   The next season he became the sole Houston representative to the All-Star game and in the 1980 championship playoffs he batted a then record .526.  As of 2010, Puhl owned the ninth best lifetime fielding percentage of any major league outfielder.

He played a quiet and seemingly unassuming outfield throughout his career with a consistency matched by few other players.  He was a table setter on a Houston team which featured speed and defense over power due to the dimensions of the Astrodome.  But he was not a slap and run hitter, typical of Houston and much of the astro turf era. He hit doubles and triples.  He was steady and consistent. He hit .372 in postseason play.

In 1994, Puhl was elected to the Saskatchewan Sports Hall of fame and in 1995 he was elected to the Canadian Baseball hall of Fame. In 2007 he was hired as the baseball coach at University of Houston-Victoria where he has compiled a record of 96-44.

His overall numbers are those of an average to good major league player.  But those numbers are all the more remarkable when one considers the era he came from the place he came from and his quiet, it’s all about the team demeanor.   He would probably not appreciate this mention.  He probably just loves the game we all love.

But as a fellow Canadian who tried his best but was never good enough or really had the chance in those olden days, I always did and still admire his style of play and his accomplishments.  What I found even more remarkable is that he made it at all.

In my last blog, I identified Mickey Vernon as one of my choices for Baseball Past and Present’s Second Annual “Fifty Best Players Not in the Hall of Fame” voting.

While I was researching Vernon, I realized that his Washington Senators’ teammate from 1951 to 1955, Pete Runnels, was a solid if not spectacular player, too. And since Runnels never received even a single vote for the Hall, I’m including him just because.

There’s not a team in the Major Leagues that would not jump at the chance to sign a Runnels-type player. One of the most consistent hitters from the mid-1950s to the mid-1960s, Runnels won two batting titles for the Boston Red Sox (1960 and 1962) who acquired him in a trade from the Senators for Albie Pearson and Norm Zauchin. During Runnels’ 1960 batting title season (.320), he knocked in only 35 runs—hard to do given that his 169 hits included 33 for extra bases. Runnels barely missed out on a third title (1958) when on the season’s final day in Washington against his old Senators, he went 0-4 while the eventual winner, Ted Williams, got two hits.

Always the gentleman, Runnels later said:

I enjoyed Ted’s 1958 catching me [for the batting crown] on the final day more than the later titles of 1960 and 1962 because of the great competition. Wasn’t he capable?

Still, Runnels was quick to attribute his success as a Red Sox to Williams who taught him to slap the balls into infield holes and slice line drives off Fenway Park’s Green Monster. In five Red Sox seasons, Runnels averaged .320 and never hit less than .314. A master at bat control, he was a notorious singles hitter who had one of the game’s best eyes and compiled an outstanding 1.35 walk-to-strikeout ratio (844-to-627). Altogether Runnels batted over .300 six times, once with the Senators, five with the Red Sox.

Runnels, who played all four infield positions with above average skill and appeared in three All Star games, finished his career with a .291 average. After his last two seasons with the HoustonColt .45s, Runnels returned to coach the Red Sox (1965-1966). Then when Boston fired manager Billy Herman, Runnels was tapped as the Red Sox new pilot to manage the last 16 games. Retired from baseball, Runnels returned to his Pasadena, Texas home to open a sporting goods store.Runnels attended Rice Institute (now Rice University) and served in the U.S. Marines (1945-1948). In 1991, at age 63, Runnels  died from a heart attack he suffered in Houston.  The Boston Red Sox induced Runnels into its Hall of Fame in 2004.

What he did: On the surface, Pedro Martinez’s 2000 season is impressive enough: 18-6 record, 1.74 ERA, 284 strikeouts, and the best WHIP of all-time, 0.737. Of course he was the American League Cy Young, and Martinez even finished fifth in MVP voting. Usually, these kinds of years for pitchers come during times that favor them, the Deadball Era, the pitching Golden Age of the 1960s, and such. But Martinez did his thing at the height of the Steroid Era when offense reigned supreme. His ERA+ was an almost-comical 291, courtesy of an AL average ERA of 4.91.

In 1931, Lefty Grove dominated in similar circumstances, overcoming one of the greatest offensive years in baseball history. This was the season the Yankees scored 1,067 runs and still finished second, where Babe Ruth had an OPS+ of 218 and didn’t come close to winning MVP. That went to Grove who finished 31-4 with a 2.06 ERA, leading most major statistical categories for pitchers, and taking his Philadelphia Athletics to the World Series. If he’d been in a pitcher’s era, there’s no telling what Grove might have done. And given the similarities between Grove and Martinez, both men temperamental, brilliant flamethrowers, it makes me wonder how Martinez might have fared in his place.

Era he might have thrived in: We’re putting Martinez on the last great team Connie Mack managed before the Great Depression forced him to scuttle his dynasty. The ’31 A’s boasted the likes of Jimmie Foxx, Al Simmons, and Mickey Cochrane, went 107-45 in the regular season, and then took the Gashouse Gang St. Louis Cardinals to seven games in the World Series. I don’t know if Martinez could have filled in for Grove’s 31 wins, given that he pitched more than 200 innings just seven times in his career. In most other departments, though, Martinez would be a dominant force in 1931.

Why: First off, I ran Martinez’s 2000 numbers through the stat converter on Baseball-Reference.com. With the A’s in 1931, his stats convert to a 19-3 record with a 1.83 ERA and 264 strikeouts. I’ll admit I don’t always trust the B-R converter for pitching stats, and in this case, it has Martinez throwing just 202 innings in a year that Grove had to throw 288 (which later contributed to him blowing out his arm and becoming a junkballer his last several seasons.) That being said, a lot of things still seem to favor Martinez thriving in 1931, assuming of course we suspend disbelief about his dark skin keeping him from playing in the majors prior to 1947.

He’d have a great team, an iconic, underrated one in historical terms, really. He’d have a legendary manager who guided Hall of Fame pitchers like Rube Waddell, Chief Bender, and Grove and who loved to use his hurlers for both starting and relief. Martinez thrived in both capacities through the course of his career. And in the ’30s, Martinez would be pitching in a time where a young flamethrower didn’t need a complex repertoire of pitches. Really, before Grove hurt his arm, he was a thrower more than he was a pitcher, someone who could just chuck fastballs. Martinez could do likewise. Would it be enough to silence the bats of men like Ruth, Lou Gehrig, Charlie Gehringer and others? I don’t know. But it might be enough to secure a Hall of Fame plaque for Martinez who in his own era doesn’t quite seem a lock for Cooperstown.

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: Al Simmons, Albert Pujols, Babe Ruth, Bad News Rockies,Barry Bonds, Billy Beane, Billy Martin, Bob Caruthers, Bob Feller, Bob Watson,Bobby Veach, Carl Mays, Charles Victory Faust, Chris von der Ahe,Denny McLain, Dom DiMaggio, Don Drysdale, Eddie Lopat, Frank Howard, Fritz Maisel, Gavvy Cravath, George Case, George Weiss, Harmon Killebrew, Harry Walker, Home Run Baker, Honus Wagner, Hugh Casey, Ichiro Suzuki, Jack Clark, Jackie Robinson, Jim Abbott, Jimmy Wynn, Joe DiMaggio, Joe Posnanski, Johnny Antonelli, Johnny Frederick, Josh Hamilton, Ken Griffey Jr., Lefty Grove, Lefty O’Doul, Major League (1989 film),Matty Alou, Michael Jordan, Monte Irvin, Nate Colbert, Paul Derringer, Pee Wee Reese, Pete Rose, Prince Fielder, Ralph Kiner, Rick Ankiel, Rickey Henderson,Roberto Clemente, Rogers Hornsby, Sam Crawford, Sam Thompson,Sandy Koufax, Satchel Paige, Shoeless Joe Jackson, Stan Musial, Ted Williams, The Meusel Brothers, Ty Cobb, Vada Pinson, Wally Bunker, Will Clark, Willie Mays

Preparing my ballot for Baseball: Past and Present’s annual 50 Best Players Not in the Hall of Fame project, I put on the top of my list Dwight Eisenhower’s favorite Washington Senators player, Mickey Vernon.

Here’s how Vernon became Ike’s #1. On Opening Day 1954 Vernon walloped a two-run homer off New York Yankees’ pitcher Allie Reynolds that won the game for the Senators, 5-4, in the bottom of the 10th. After he touched home plate, Vernon was grabbed by a man he mistook for an overly zealous fan. But it was a Secret Service agent who escorted Vernon to the president’s box where Eisenhower told him, “Nice going.”

In 14 full seasons (measured by 400 at bats or more), Vernon batted over .335 twice, over .300 five times and over .290 nine times. He had two outstanding seasons: 1946 when he won his first batting title with a .353 average and 1953 when he won his second (.337) edging out Cleveland’s Al Rosen by .001 Vernon’s career high in home runs came in 1954 with 20.

Vernon’s final season was unusual. In 1960, he spent most of the year as the Pittsburgh Pirates’ first base coach. But the Pirates, in need of a left-handed pinch hitter for the stretch drive, activated Vernon in September.  In eight plate appearances, Vernon managed only one hit and returned to the coach’s box where he remained for the World Series.

During his 20-season career, Vernon played for the Cleveland Indians, the Milwaukee Braves and the Boston Red Sox as well as the Senators and Pirates. Vernon also managed the expansion Senators from 1961-1963.

In addition to his two batting titles, Vernon was a 7 time All Star, led the league in doubles three times, participated in 2,044 double plays, the most in major league history, and fielded .990, an astonishing average.

But for a miscommunication, Vernon could have notched a sixth .300 season. In 1941, the Senators’ final three games were in New York. Coming into the series, Vernon was hitting .302 and manager Bucky Harris offered to sit him. But Vernon declined. By Sunday, his average had dipped to .299. Yankees’ third baseman Red Rolfe pulled Vernon aside in the runway and told him to lay down a bunt. “I’ll be back on my heels,” Rolfe said. The game was inconsequential since the Yankees had wrapped up the pennant weeks earlier.

In Vernon’s first three at-bats, the Senators had men on base so he had no bunt opportunity. But in his last at bat and needing the one hit, Vernon looked down the third base line where, as he had promised, Rolfe was playing deep. Vernon, feeling certain that .300 was a lock, put down his bunt. Rolfe didn’t make a play. But catcher Bill Dickey, remembered Vernon:

…came charging out, picked up the ball and threw me out. We had forgotten about him and I ended up with .299.

The Mickey Vernon Sports Museum in Chadds Ford, PA honors Vernon’s career and military service. Vernon. a U.S. Navy World War II veteran, died in 2008 from stroke complications.