Author: howard

I was going through my baseball card collection the other day and stumbled upon a two -season collection of cards issued by the then Baltimore Orioles and Philadelphia Phillies Triple-A-affiliated Ottawa Lynx.

We were fortunate to have this team for 15 years, mainly as an affiliate of the Montreal Expos. The last two seasons, 2006 and 2007 I was part of the press box, covering each and every home game and doing numerous interviews with players on the home team and the visiting teams.

Shuffling through my baseball card collection I noticed one startling fact. The vast majority of the Lynx players have never and probably will never make it to the major leagues for anything more than the proverbial cup of coffee if even that. This is most likely the norm for other organizations and not the exception.

Tommy Lasorda once stated that most players who get signed are only there to play catch with the future stars.  It got me to wondering as to the reasons. These players made it to one step below the Show but couldn’t make that seemingly small leap up the ladder to the big time. What were/are the reasons? Was Lasorda correct in his rather brutal assessment?

I was privileged over the years to have been able to see close-up future stars such as Derek Jeter, Jon Lester, and B.J. Upton. For the most part, these types of players are generally promoted from Double-A. It is true that the International League has quite an impressive roster of graduates who not only played in the Major Leagues, but became noteworthy stars and Hall of Famers or at least future Hall of Famers. But International League and minor leagues seems to be, for the most part, stocked with players who will be used only for temporary injury replacements for the big club, or prospects who might flourish for a time as a utility player or long relief pitcher.

For every Jeter, there are many who didn’t make it and most likely never will. It was with a mixture of sadness and wonder that I interviewed several of these players. It was with the same mixture of wonder and sadness that I watched  fringe major league players  have long careers, players who didn’t seem to be better than those Triple A players I got to know so well. These players worked hard, as hard as any other, yet were becoming part of baseballs never to be. Other players often passed them by in the blink of an eye. With each passing season, their window to the bigs was getting smaller and smaller.

Some were stuck behind superstars. Some simply couldn’t find that extra drop of talent which would get them that final step up the ladder. I suspect many had through no fault of their own become labeled with the dreaded 4A status. A 4A status for those readers who are not familiar with the term, refers to players who are too talented for Triple A, yet not talented enough for the majors. Most have had a brief appearance in the majors but were deemed not good enough in their brief trial, or viewed only as a temporary replacement for an injured star.

Some gained the reputation as a premier minor league power hitter who would never be a power hitter in the majors. Some were first baseman, third baseman or corner outfielders who were able to produce a high batting average but not the power  in demand at those positions. They were stopped by a baseball tradition and way of thinking almost as old as the game itself. Even if successful during their trial, managers and coaches at the big league level often put this down to a flash in the pan. Sometimes it was ownership who didn’t want to pay a higher salary when they had ten more similar players who could temporarily fill the void.

I cheered and hoped for every one of these players I interviewed. They were all trying to grab the ring which I had always hoped for but was never nearly talented enough to achieve. Many are still out there trying as they know of no other life. I feel for them all despite the fact that they have never known 9-5. They are doing something, albeit at a minor league level, that I can’t even dream of doing.

In 1953, Sport Magazine published an article titled “The Yankee They Take for Granted,” a reference to the great and underrated Gene Woodling.

With the World Series recently completed, few remember that Woodling was one of the most consistent clutch hitters in series history. The lefty swinger helped the New York Yankees win five straight World Series from 1949 through 1953 when he averaged .318. His 27 postseason hits included five doubles, two triples, and three home runs. Woodling was one of twelve Yankees who played on all of the five winning teams. His mates: Yogi Berra, Phil Rizzuto, Hank Bauer, Jerry Coleman, Bobby Brown, Charlie Silvera, Johnny Mize, Joe Collins, Vic Raschi, Ed Lopat, and Allie Reynolds.

Woodling credited his big league success to the time he spent in San Francisco playing for the Pacific Coast League Seals under manager Lefty O’Doul’s tutelage. In 1948, the Pittsburgh Pirates sold Wooding to the Seals even though he had led four different minor league teams in hitting including back to back years of .394 and .398 in Class C and Class D.

Despite Woodling’s lofty averages, O’Doul moved him closer to the plate, placed his feet together and changed the position of his bat. When Woodling held his bat back, he assumed the crouched stance that he became so famous for and led the PCL in batting with a .385 average.

Woodling’s Seals teammate and former New York Giants pitcher Jack Brewer explained how O’Doul improved Woodling’s plate performance:

I remember in spring training Woodling was a punch and Judy hitter. He faced the pitcher in such a way that he couldn’t much power in his bat. O’Doul tied a rope around his waist to get him in the proper stance. To keep him from lunging, he worked with Gene by the hour and pulled that rope so he wouldn’t lunge out in batting practice. Woodling got his timing right and, boy, he was knocking down the fence that season.

In the PCL, Woodling caught Oakland Oaks’ manager Casey Stegel’s eye. When Stengel took over the managerial reins for the Yankees in 1949, he persuaded ownership to purchase Woodling’s contract for $100,000.

Once in St. Petersburg, the Yankees’ spring training site, Woodling joined another rookie Hank Bauer as well as Joe DiMaggio, Charlie Keller, Tommy Heinrich, Big Johnny Lindell and strong-armed Cliff Mapes in the bid for the starting spots.

In an interview with my SABR colleague Jim Sergent, Woodling laid to rest the common opinion that Stengel platooned him with Bauer.
Said Woodling:

Casey only platooned us in about seven games a year. Nobody ever checks the records. You know what he’d do? We’d get a five-game lead, and Casey would platoon us. We’d get down to a tie or one or two games ahead, we’d play every day.

Woodling played left; Bauer, right and center, Joe Di Maggio until he gave way to Mickey Mantle.

Even during the last two years of his seventeen year career at ages 38 and 39, Woodling was still hitting. In 1961, he hit .313 for the Washington Senators and in 1962, a combined .279 for the Senators and the New York Mets.

When his buddy Bauer became manager of the Orioles, Woodling served as his first base coach between 1964 and 1967 and, in 1967, he was the Orioles’ hitting coach.

After Woodling passed away in 2001 at age 78, Ralph Houk said: “He was just such a great guy.”

What he did: Going through the early days of baseball history, players like Al Simmons come up every so often. They are the men who retire innocuously shy of career milestones, the Tony Mullanes and Bobby Mathews’s with just fewer than 300 wins. In Simmons’ case, he, like Sam Rice, Sam Crawford, and Rogers Hornsby quit within range of 3,000 hits. Today, none of these men would be gone before hitting those marks.

Different stories drove these men from the majors in their day. Mullane and Mathews both pitched in the 19th century when hurlers rarely lasted beyond their mid-30s. Crawford left the majors in favor on the Pacific Coast League and proceeded to rack up nearly another 1,000 hits in the minors. Rice simply got old, playing until he was 44, but still quitting rather inexplicably at the end of 1934 with 2,987 hits. Simmons and Hornsby didn’t have the best reputations, though, and declined precipitously as players. They changed teams frequently in the latter parts of their career.

Era he might have thrived in: I wrote awhile back that I could see Hornsby thriving in baseball’s recent years, and I think the same holds true for Simmons. With a bat like his and a chance to serve as a designated hitter, he’d have torn up the American League in the late 1990s and certainly gotten his 3,000 hits.

Why: For starters, Simmons hit big a lot of the places he went: Philadelphia, Chicago, Detroit. He and Jimmie Foxx gave the A’s a potent 1-2 punch in their heyday of the late 1920s, and Simmons was one of four men to drive in 100 runs for Detroit in 1936. Imagine Simmons filling in for Magglio Ordonez with the Tigers today or finding a spot with the Rangers in the recent World Series. No way Tony La Russa would’ve had so sweet an end to his career.

Simmons played in the greatest offensive era in baseball history, and it seems unlikely he’d hit north of .380 today or drive in close to 200 runs. Still, the late 1990’s might have been the closest thing to this era (though I made sure to put the century in that date, since the 1894 Phillies hit .350 as a team.) If ever there was an era to put up gaudy number’s besides the actual time Simmons played, it was about a decade ago when guys like Juan Gonzalez, Larry Walker, and Nomar Garciaparra were putting up huge stats.

I ran Simmons’ numbers through the Baseball-Reference.com stat converter for the 1999 Texas Rangers. There are eight different seasons from his career he’d hit .350 or better on those Rangers, including his abbreviated 1927 campaign which converts to a .399 clip with 16 home runs and 118 RBI in 111 games. More importantly, playing with these Rangers, Simmons would probably be earning seven figures or at least working towards the chance for a large free agent deal, a great juxtaposition for a player who never earned more than about $33,000 in a year. He’d also have the benefit of modern medicine and maybe steroids. That all has to be good for something.

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, 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

Tony La Russa himself wasn’t much of a ballplayer. The middle infielder hit .199 in 203 Major League plate appearances, toiling in the minors for most of his 16-year career in professional baseball.

Maybe it was all that time on the bench that prepared La Russa for his managerial career. Because his teams seemed to over-perform from day one, beginning in 1979 when he inherited the 46-60 White Sox and led them to a 27-27 finish. Four years later Chicago made the playoffs for the first time in 24 years with the franchise’s best winning percentage since 1920, and La Russa won his first Manager of the Year award.

The White Sox’s early season struggles in 1986 prompted La Russa’s mid-season firing, but the skipper didn’t stay jobless for long. Only three weeks after being kicked out of Chicago, he was hired to manage his former team, the Oakland A’s, and immediately turned them around, just as he had the White Sox seven years earlier. 31-52 when La Russa took over, the A’s finished the season with a 45-34 run under their new manager.

And thus began the glory days of managing for La Russa, who announced his retirement today. La Russa’s Athletics almost immediately posted one of the most dominant three-season stretches of all-time, winning the AL West in 1988, 1989 and 1990, averaging 102 wins during that time and reaching the World Series each year.

Leading this mini-dynasty were Bash Brothers Jose Canseco and Mark McGwire, perennial Cy Young award candidates Dave Stewart and Bob Welch, future Hall-of-Fame closer Dennis Eckersley, and of course La Russa, who won another Manager of the Year award in ’88, then finished 3rd in the voting in ’89 and 2nd in ’90.

The 1989 A’s team, probably the weakest of the three great Oakland squads, was the only one to find success in the Fall Classic, sweeping their cross-bay rivals, the San Francisco Giants, in a World Series most remembered for the 6.9 magnitude earthquake that delayed Game 3 ten days. It was La Russa’s first World Series championship and his only in Oakland.

After a down 1991 season, the A’s bounced back to win the AL West again in 1992, and La Russa won his third Manager of the Year award. He would last three more seasons with the A’s, before the death of the team’s owner and the subsequent sale of the franchise prompted La Russa to bolt to St. Louis to manage the Cardinals.

It took only one season for La Russa to turn the 4th place Cardinals into an NL Central-winning squad, and despite a few down seasons to close the 20th century, St. Louis soon established itself as the perennial favorite in its division, finishing above .500 all but one year from 2000 to the present and earning six Central division titles during that time. In 2002 La Russa won his record-setting fourth Manager of the Year award (Bobby Cox has since tied that mark).

Arguably La Russa’s best Cardinals team, the 105-game winning 2004 squad, was swept out of the World Series, and the ’05 version lost in a seven-game NLCS. The 2006 Cards were worse than their predecessors by nearly every measure, but, despite only 83 regular season wins, unexpectedly brought La Russa his second World Series title.

This year’s Cardinals were not expected to deliver their manager championship number three. Ace Adam Wainwright was sent for Tommy John surgery after an injury in February, out for the year before throwing a single pitch. Closer Ryan Franklin blew four of his first five save opportunities, Albert Pujols battled a sluggish start, Matt Holliday struggled to stay on the field, and St. Louis trailed wild card-leading Atlanta by 10.5 games on August 24.

But with a bullpen rebuilt at the trade deadline and a newly-healthy offense, the Cardinals stormed back to clinch the playoffs on the season’s final day. In the NLDS, they upset the heavily-favored Phillies in five games. In the NLCS they handled the Brewers in six games, La Russa hailed as genius for his courage in pulling starting pitchers early in ballgames and his subsequent manipulation of his bullpen in the mid- and late-innings.

La Russa’s sixth World Series was an up-and-down one for the manager. Bullpenphonegate, as the Game 5 debacle came to be known, threatened to undermine La Russa’s successes and establish him as the series’ goat, but an all-time classic game 6—in which La Russa made no glaring errors and his counterpart Ron Washington orchestrated blunder after blunder—and a well-managed game 7 gave La Russa’s Cardinals another World Series championship.

Tony La Russa may from time to time appear whiny, stubborn or petulant. But you can’t argue with results, and with six pennants and three World Series titles in his 33 years as a Major League manager, the 67-year old is one of the most decorated skippers in baseball history. He’s third all-time in managerial wins and one of only two managers ever to win the World Series in each league. Where he ranks among the all-time greats is a discussion for another post, but in the wake of a World Series run during which he was praised repeatedly for his leadership and decision-making, we should all pause to admire the career accomplishments of Tony La Russa.

After such a wonderful 2011 World Series, I’m mentally if not physically exhausted as I write this week’s column.  All but game three were nail biting, nerve raking affairs even for someone who was not cheering for one team over the other.  It was a shame one team had to lose but despite the obvious managerial blunders, mental mistakes and errors, which I’m certain will be discussed to death in the next few days, it was a World Series we will all be talking about for years to come.  I must extend my congratulations to both teams for once again proving that baseball is indeed the most exciting of all sports.

But now it begins. The rumors, speculation, negotiations, the trade talk and all the rest that goes with this always too long baseball offseason.  Apart from a casual daily glance at what is going on, we all could use a week or two of relation and paying attention to other worldly events and happenings.  But only a week or two.

Certainly the biggest off field questions will be the financial situation of the Los Angeles Dodgers and the inevitable battle with the commissioner’s office,  the ongoing but far less bleak finances of the New York Mets, the search for GM and managerial replacements, new Houston Astros ownership and of course, the signing of  a new CBA.

The biggest and potentially most drawn out on the field headlines will be the opting out, or not, of C.C. Sabathia from his New York Yankee contract and  the signings of Albert Pujols and Prince Fielder. There are, as usual, many potential arbitration cases and many teams which have to decide which direction they plan on going for the 2012 season.

Now that the courts in California have decided, (well, for the moment anyway), that Dodger owner Frank McCourt will own the Dodgers as part of his nasty and drawn out divorce,  will Bud Selig force the issue and demand that McCourt sell his interest in the franchise?  Selig has continually made his opinion known that such a sale would be in the best interests of baseball.  McCourt has chosen to make this battle public and has stated in no uncertain terms that he will do whatever he feels is best for him.

The financial situation of the New York Mets is awaiting further rulings by the New York court which has stated that Fred Wilpon is liable for a fixed amount only no matter what the final judgment may turn out to be. Although the Mets have not repaid their $25 million loan to Major League baseball, Bud Selig has stated that he is not overly concerned.  This situation has been far less public and far more civilized, at least in public.

New ownership in Houston has yet to be approved and questions have come up as to the hiring practices of the potential new owner in other businesses he owns.  Selig also seems to be pushing that approval of this sale might be contingent on an agreement by the new owner to move the Astros to the American League.  He has hinted that any other reservations about the sale could be overlooked if such relocation were to be agreed to.

The signing of a new Collective Bargaining Agreement, (CBA), seemed to be a done deal.  Now, a pet peeve of Selig has begun to raise its ugly head and threatens to delay or negate any new agreement.  Selig has pushed for years now to put a ceiling on bonuses awarded to draft picks.  Understandably, the players union want no part of such a ceiling stating that it amounts to nothing more than a back door salary cap. The proposal of a luxury tax above slot might be the compromise which gets the deal signed.

But let’s face it.  For us fans of the game these haughty financial matters are of little concern.  Those issues will be decided by lawyers and accountants. The biggest issue to fans around baseball, and especially in St. Louis, New York and Milwaukee is only one.  Who will sign Albert Pujols, Prince Fielder and C. C. Sabathia?  Who will be lucky enough to sign them?  Will we still be talking about this in January?

For now, let’s simply bask in the glow of a wonderful season and a truly special World Series.   Spring is coming.

Editor’s note: With the St. Louis Cardinals heading into Game 7 of the World Series this evening (after a for-the-ages Game 6), Joe Guzzardi looks at what Dizzy Dean did with such an opportunity in 1934.
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Jay Hanna “Dizzy” Dean pitched just six seasons for the St. Louis Cardinals from 1932-1937 plus a single game in 1930. Those were the only years that Dean pitched more than 20 games in a single season. After Dean suffered an injury in the 1937 All-Star Game which ruined his career, he was traded to the Chicago Cubs in 1938 and pitched ineffectively for three more seasons before retiring at 31.

But in 1934, that bleak end couldn’t have been further away. Dean went 30-7 on his way to the National League Most Valuable Player award and a 4-3 World Series championship for the Cardinals’ “Gashouse Gang” over the Detroit Tigers. Dizzy won Games 1 and 7; brother Paul, Games 3 and 6. In the final game, Dean pitched a masterful 11-0 shutout.

The Cardinals’ couldn’t believe how far Dean had come from his days in 1930 when he was a raw, obnoxious 20-year-old rookie. To the consternation of manager Gabby Street, Dean slept late, missed the team’s 10:00 A.M. practice and ran up charges at local stores which he expected the Cardinals to pay. Instead, the Cards warned local merchants not to extend Dean credit and put him on a $1 a day budget.

Exasperated by his antics, the Cards finally sent Dean down to its AAA Houston farm club where the pitcher met his future wife Pat. After a six-week courtship, the couple married. Dean, a new man, settled down and turned in a remarkable season. Dean led the Texas League with 26 wins, a 1.57 ERA and 303 strike outs. His performance earned him a spot in the Cardinals’ 1932 rotation where he won 18 games. In four subsequent seasons, Dean won 20, 30, 28 and 24 games.

Although Dean had only a second grade education (with him noting, “I didn’t so well in the first grade, either”) he shrewdly realized that every time he pitched, the stands were full. Dean reverted to his old self by routinely demanding during the season that his $8,500 contract be renegotiated. Owner Sam Breadon just as regularly turned Dean down. The pitcher would then leave the team, often for days at a time.

But the Cardinals forgave all after Dean’s 11-0 clincher in Detroit. A huge tickertape parade awaited the team with the Dean brothers and their spouses in the lead convertible. Dean, to wild applause, sat in the front seat swinging a stuffed tiger doll from the end of a noose.

After street cleaners swept up the confetti, the Deans left for a two week barnstorming tour against an All Star Negro League team and followed it up with a week on Broadway performing vaudeville routine before finally filming a Warner Brothers short film, Dizzy & Daffy with one of the Three Stooges.

Dozens of personal appearances and endorsement deals later Dean, who the Cards had once limited to a measly $1 a day and whose winning series share was $5,300, earned nearly $75,000 in just a few short months.

What he did: Adam Darowski’s piece Monday on pitchers who could hit got me thinking about Don Drysdale. If Drysdale didn’t have the greatest year at the plate ever for a pitcher in 1965, it had to be somewhere close. Not only did he smack seven home runs with 19 RBI and an OPS+ of 140, Drysdale was the only .300 hitter on a team that batted .245. His 2.2 offensive WAR was better than all but four Dodger batters. Drysdale even went to the plate as a pinch hitter 14 times, going 3-for-12 with two RBI. And of course, he was also brilliant on the mound, finishing 23-12 and fifth in National League MVP voting and helping his Dodgers to a World Series title.

Drysdale, one of the subjects of a recent outstanding paper here, did enough in his career to finish 209-166 with a 2.95 ERA, 2,486 strikeouts ,and 49 shutouts. Seeing as he played his prime years in perhaps the greatest pitcher’s era ever, with Sandy Koufax as a rotation mate, he might have been in the best possible time to reach the Hall of Fame as he did in 1984. Still, Drysdale’s hitting numbers suggest he might have been the best player in baseball in an earlier era.

Era he might have thrived in: Men like Drysdale ruled baseball in the late 19th century, Bob Caruthers, Guy Hecker, and others able to dominate both on the mound and at the plate. Official MLB historian and longtime baseball writer John Thorn explained to me awhile back, when I did one of these columns on Josh Hamilton, that the overall talent level was lower in the early days of baseball, forcing the best players to both pitch and hit. Drysdale would have been even more of a menace than he was in his prime when he loomed 6’5″ and set the record for hit batsmen in a career.

Why: It’s about increased opportunity, mostly. As Caruthers averaged 290 at-bats a season and Hecker annually had about 330, Drysdale would likely double his number of trips to the plate. He might not belt 29 career home runs playing before the Live Ball Era, but his seven lifetime triples and lanky frame suggest he still would have put up good power numbers. And other parts of his game would benefit as well.

On the hill, Drysdale would be well-equipped to handle the draconian, “Let’s pitch 600 innings this season” workloads of 19th century hurlers, seeing as he pitched at least 270 innings seven times in his career and made at least 40 starts five consecutive years. It was a pace that may have contributed to him having to quit playing two weeks after his 33rd birthday in 1969, but that wouldn’t be an issue in the late 1800s, when pitchers rarely lasted in the majors beyond their mid-30s. His short but brilliant peak would be nothing out of the ordinary.

And it’s worth noting here, too, that Drysdale’s “Hit one of my guys and I’ll hit two of yours” baseball ethos would play perfectly in the 1800s, when respectable women were barely allowed at ballparks and none but the sketchiest of hotels would put up ballplayers.

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, 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, 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

You can blame it on the Pittsburgh Pirates. I’m talking World Series night baseball which the Pirates kicked off in fourth game of the 1971 fall classic.

Of course, the Pirates weren’t really at fault. Major League Baseball came up with the bad idea and introduced it that year. Most predicted that it wouldn’t fly. But when every game eventually was scheduled to start at 8:05, what choice do fans have but to watch even through half closed eyes? When I lived in California, I had no problem: come home, turn on the television, fire up the barbeque and sit down to watch. Now that I live in Pittsburgh, I struggle to watch most of innings one through three and, if I’m lucky, wake up in time to catch innings seven through nine.

The 1971 series is famous for introducing Roberto Clemente, who hit .414 during the seven games, to a national audience, for the Pirates coming off the floor after falling behind 2-0 and for having to play and win the deciding game at Baltimore against the well-stocked Orioles who won 101 games.

The fourth game, the first at night, was the series’ turning point. After winning game three behind Steve Blass, manager Danny Murtaugh gave the nod to lefty Luke Walker. Walker retired just two batters before Murtaugh summoned the scrawny ( 6’4”; 178 lbs) but effective 21-year-old rookie Bruce Kison who pitched 6-1/3 innings of one-hit ball before giving way to Dave Guisti in the ninth. Guisti earned the save in the 4-3 nail bitter. The Pirates’, despite pounding out 14 hits couldn’t put the Orioles, who collected only four, away until the final out.

ut if you were to ask Kison for his fondest memory of the series, he might not point to his performance or the Pirates’ eventual 4-3 world championship triumph but instead to his wedding that took place immediately following the seventh game.

By prearrangement, the Pirates flew Kison back to Pittsburgh while the post-game celebration was still in progress. A police escort led Kison to the airport where a Lear jet awaited him. The flight from Baltimore took 22 minutes and landed at 7:33. Kison was 33 minutes late for his big day but no one really cared.

As seventh game winner Blass recalled, the groom-to-be Kison came up to him and in a reference to the tidy 2:10 game time, said “Thanks for making it a quick one.”