Category: MLB

What he did: Reading the name Johnny Frederick might make one think of a Revolutionary War hero or a punk rocker. Only baseball historians may know of the Johnny Frederick who played six solid seasons with the Brooklyn Dodgers from 1929 through 1934 and then vanished from the big leagues, never to return.

Frederick is part of a small, but intriguing class of ballplayers: those men with at least 200 hits in a season, but fewer than 1,000 in their career. I know of 22 players who did this. Nearly all of them played in the 1920s and ’30s, and no one appears to have accomplished the feat since 1950. I’m interested why this is, as well as what may have driven men like Frederick from the majors and what could have inspired them to stay.

Era he might have thrived in: 1970s to current

Why: About a month ago, a loyal reader emailed me names of a few players with at least 200 hits in a season but less than 1,000 in a career. It seemed a little quirky, and I initially didn’t pay it much attention, but on Tuesday, while researching players with lifetime batting averages above .300 for an upcoming post, I stumbled onto a few more of these men. Wednesday, I got systematic. Using Baseball-Reference, I scoured the list of players with at least 200 hits in a season.

Here’s an alphabetized list of inactive players who’ve had at least 200 hits at least one season but less than 1,000 in their careers:

Player	Years Active	200 Hit Seasons	Career Hits
Dale Alexander	1929-1933	215 (1929)	811
Beau Bell	1935-1941	212 (1936), 218 (1937)	806
Eddie Brown	1920-1928	201 (1926)	878
Dick Burrus	1919-1928	200 (1925)	513
Bob Dillinger	1946-1951	207 (1948)	888
Johnny Frederick	1929-1934	1929 (206), 1930 (206)	954
Chick Fullis	1928-1936	200 (1933)	548
Johnny Hodapp	1925-1933	225 (1930)	880
Charlie Hollocher	1918-1924	201 (1922)	894
Woody Jensen	1931-1939	203 (1935)	774
Benny Kauff	1912-1920	211 (1914)	961
Bill Lamar	1917-1927	202 (1925)	633
Hank Leiber	1933-1942	203 (1935)	808
Austin McHenry	1918-1922	201 (1921)	592
Ed Morgan	1928-1934	204 (1930)	879
Lance Richbourg	1921-1932	206 (1928)	806
Moose Solters	1934-1943	201 (1935)	990
Jigger Statz	1919-1928	209 (1923)	737
Snuffy Stirnweiss	1943-1952	205 (1944)	989
George Stone	1903-1910	208 (1906)	984
Fresco Thompson	1925-1934	202 (1929)	762
Dick Wakefield	1941-1952	200 (1943)	625

A few have come close to this feat in recent years. Lyman Bostock fell one hit shy of 200 in 1977 and then died at the end of the following year at 27, finishing with 624 career hits. Doug Glanvillle and Randy Velarde each had 200-hit seasons and fewer than 1,200 career hits. But the overall trend seems nothing like it was 80 years ago.

The presence of some men on the list above can be explained. McHenry died a few months after his last game in 1922, Kauff was barred from the majors at 30 because of his alleged participation in a stolen car ring, and Stirnweiss played his best ball in a talent-depleted American League during World War II. A few players listed here also had their time in the majors cut short by that war. And my reader pointed out that Alexander was unjustly labeled a poor fielder, and no team would sign him after his batting average dipped below .300.

Alexander and most of the men here went onto good stints in the minors after leaving the majors. Some opted for the Pacific Coast League, where the travel was shorter, the season longer, and the weather warmer than the majors, which did not exist west of St. Louis prior to 1958. And in the days before free agency and players like Glanville or Velarde commanding a few million dollars, a non-star could earn more playing in a place like the PCL than the majors. Some of these men also rose to great heights in lesser circuits, like Statz who Lawrence Ritter called the Pete Rose of the PCL.

Frederick hit .363 with my hometown Sacramento Solons in 1935, his first year in the PCL after the majors and followed with five more seasons for rival Portland, hitting over .300 every year. He retired with nearly three times as many hits in the PCL than the majors, and between the two, he had over 3,000. If Frederick played in the majors today, I could envision him like Paul Molitor, a regular batting title threat earning millions, a spot in the 3,000-hit club, and his place in 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.

Here is the latest from Joe Guzzardi, a regular Wednesday and Saturday contributor here.

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Lou Piniella may be remembered as the occasionally successful (winning percentage .518) 23-year term manager of the New York Yankees, Cincinnati Reds, Seattle Mariners, Tampa Bay Devil Rays and the unbearably pathetic Chicago Cubs.

Except for his three years at the helm of the Devil Rays from 2003-2005, Piniella led each of his teams at least once to the first playoff round. In 1990, with the Reds, Piniella swept the Oakland A’s in the World Series.

But if you are of a certain age, and especially if you lived in New York when Piniella played outfield for the Yankees, then you remember Sweet Lou as an outstanding and underrated key on the 1978 Yankees, possibly the most fascinating team in baseball history.

During the 1970s I lived in upper Manhattan, a brief subway ride to the Bronx. Late in the decade, I developed a curious relationship with the Yankees. I admired and rooted for their players individually: Thurman Munson, Chris Chambliss, Bucky Dent, Willie Randolph, Graig Nettles and pitchers Ron Guidry (25-3!), Ed Figueroa, Catfish Hunter, Goose Gossage. My favorite was Piniella who, although he batted seventh, hit a solid .314.

But because of owner George Steinbrenner’s heavy-handed, dictatorial style, I never wanted the Yankees to win. For the players to excel but the team to lose was of course impossible.

In my baseball lifetime, I’ve never experienced a season as crazy as 1978 when the Yankees’ fortunes (and misfortunes) dominated the sports’ pages.

Through April and May, the Yankees and the Boston Red Sox ran neck and neck. But in June, the Sox pulled away. Not only were the Sox, led by Jim Rice, Carlton Fisk, Fred Lynn, Dennis Eckersley and Luis Tiant playing better baseball but the Yankees to the amazement and bewilderment of its fans and the amusement of the media, begun to self destruct.

By July 19, the Yankees were buried in fourth place 14 games behind the Red Sox.

Among the whirlwind of mid-season controversies that unglued the Yankees were Reggie unsuccessfully attempting to bunt even though manager Billy Martin through his third base coach Dick Howser had given the hit sign. With much ado, Steinbrenner sent Jackson home to California as punishment for his defiance.

Then, in dizzying sequence, Martin in an alcoholic stupor called Jackson a “born” liar and Steinbrenner a “convicted” one.

Martin, in advance of being fired, resigned. Bob Lemon replaced Martin who the Yankees promptly announced would return to the helm in 1980.

Under Lemon, the Yankees gradually chipped away at the Red Sox until on September 7^th, they trailed by five games.

Then came the Fenway Park “Boston Massacre,” when the Yankees swept the Red Sox by scores of 15-3, 13-2, 7-0 and 7-4.

Piniella’s line for the four games which included three doubles and a home run: AB 16; R 8; H 10; RBIs 5

As one Boston newspaper summed up in a headline: If You Need Directions to Home Plate, Fenway Park, Ask Any Yankee; They’ve All Been There

But three weeks remained. The Yankees pushed ahead by 2.5 games before the Red Sox got healthy and tied the Bombers. And when, on the final day, the Yankees couldn’t beat the last place Cleveland Indians, game number 163 ensued. (Watch Phil Rizzuto introduce it here.)

Played in Boston on a Monday mid-afternoon, October 2, no self respecting New Yorker was anywhere except in front of his television. I can’t remember what lame excuse I offered up for not being in my office but since my boss wasn’t around either, it didn’t matter.

Normally, when the Yankees’ thrilling 5-4 victory is replayed in our memory, the kudos go to Bucky Dent who hit the three-run, seventh inning homer that put the New Yorkers ahead for good.

To me, however, the turning point was a Piniella defensive gem.

Entering his third inning of relief, Gossage was barely hanging on when Rick Burleson drew a one out walk followed by Jerry Remy’s soft liner into the glaring right field sun.

Burleson, seeing Piniella struggle to locate the ball, headed for second. Then, Piniella made a typically heady play by motioning with his glove that he was about to make the catch. That froze Burleson at second instead of trying to take third.

When the ball fell in front of Piniella for a single, Lou rifled it in to third base to hold Burleson on second.

Rice came to the plate and hit a titanic fly ball to right which would have easily scored Burleson to tie the game had he advanced to third. Without Piniella’s fake out, Red Sox could have won the game in regulation or sent it into extra innings.

Instead, Goosage got Carl Yazstremski to foul out making the Yankees American League and, eventually, World Series champions.

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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

In honor of the 62nd anniversary of Babe Ruth’s death today, LIFE.com is releasing unpublished color photos of the Yankee immortal taken on Babe Ruth Day, which was held just before his death. A reader alerted me to a YouTube video about these photos a few months ago, but this is the first time I’ve seen still shots.

A black-and-white photo of Ruth’s back from that day is perhaps among the greatest shots in baseball history. Here’s a color shot reminiscent of that classic:

A gallery of these photos can be seen on LIFE.com

Related: Pre-World War II 8 mm color footage of baseball

I’m pleased to present the latest from Joe Guzzardi, a regular Wednesday and Saturday contributor here.

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When 57,037 New York Mets fans filed into Shea Stadium for the May 31, 1964 Memorial Day doubleheader against the San Francisco Giants, not a single one could have remotely anticipated what awaited them that Sunday afternoon.

Ten hours and twenty-three minutes later, including an intermission, and after 32 innings, fans had seen a dazzling display of baseball oddities during the Giants’ sweep, 5-3 and 8-6.

The opener went a regulation nine innings in a relatively speedy 2:29. The night cap, however, was another story altogether. The second, played over 23 innings, took 7:23, the longest game in major league history measured by time.

The end came mercifully in the bottom of the 23rd at 11:35 P.M. when Mets’ second baseman Amado Samuel flied to left. The two batters who preceded Samuel, Chris Cannizzaro, and John Stephensen, had struck out.

By that time, only about 8,000 remained. But those brave souls had seen 41 players battle it out.

The 40th player, Giant pinch hitter Del Crandall, was the difference maker.

In the top of the 23rd, Jim Davenport lined a triple to the right field corner. Then when Mets’ manager Casey Stengel ordered third baseman Cap Peterson walked intentionally, the Giants’ countered by sending Crandall to the plate to face Galen Cisco. Crandall promptly doubled Davenport home and put Peterson on third.

The Giants iced the game when Jesus Alou beat out a chopper that Cisco couldn’t field. Peterson dashed home for the Giants’ eighth and final run.

Over the marathon afternoon and evening, fans witnessed baseball rarities like a two-man triple play executed by Roy McMillan and Ed Kranepool, twelve pitchers who shared two strike out records—36 in one game and 47 in one day.

Another out of the ordinary occurrence: Willie Mays made one of his two career appearances at shortstop but failed at bat going only one for 10.

Perhaps the most unusual of all is that the winning and losing pitchers, the Giants’ Gaylord Perry (3-1) and the Mets’ Galen Cisco (2-5) pitched the equivalent of complete games but in relief roles.

Perry’s line: 10 IP; 7 H; 0 ER; 1 BB; 9 K

Cisco’s line: 9 IP; 5 H; 2 ER 2 BB; 5 K

For Perry and Cisco, history repeated itself. Exactly two weeks earlier in San Francisco, Perry (2-0) pitching in relief of Juan Marichal beat the Mets and Cisco, also out of the bull pen.

As the season played out, losing the doubleheader didn’t make much difference to the Mets. Led by cast offs like McMillan, Frank Thomas and Frank Lary, who earned the team’s highest salary at $30,000, the Mets were terrible from start to finish.

The 1964 Mets went 53-109 (.329) and finished 10th. The team won only thirteen more games than the infamous 1962 Mets. (“Meet” them here.)

Nevertheless, New York loved the Mets. The attendance of 1,732,597 put the Mets second in the league.

From 1965 through 1966, the Mets were baseball’s biggest joke and finished ninth or tenth each year.

But in 1969, the Miracle Mets shocked baseball by winning not only the National League pennant but also the World Series.

Take the subway out to Shea here:

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Joe Guzzardi belongs to the Society for American Baseball Research, as well as the Internet Baseball Writers Association of America and writes Double the fun, a column which looks at one famous doubleheader every Saturday here. Email Joe at guzzjoe@yahoo.com

What he did: For the first half of his career, Koufax was a mediocre reliever and sometimes starter for the Dodgers. Then, in spring training 1961, he got a tip on control from catcher Norm Sherry. Koufax proceeded to win 18 games in 1961 and followed with a five-year stretch from 1962 through 1966 where he went 111-34, amassed three Cy Young awards, and one MVP.

But then, just as quickly as it began, it was all over for Koufax. Suffering from arthritis, the southpaw retired after the 1966 season at 30. He was a first ballot selection to the Hall of Fame six years later, and some may consider Koufax the greatest lefthander of all-time. Still, one can only wonder what he might have achieved with a full career. The question here is if there’s an era that might have afforded Koufax this opportunity.

Era he might have thrived in: Early 1990s, Atlanta Braves

Why: I attended a screening in San Rafael on Sunday for a documentary, Jews and Baseball: An American Love Story, which included the story of Koufax’s brief but brilliant career. Three things were reinforced to me:

1. Koufax signed out of college as a bonus baby and thus had to stay in the majors his first two years
2. He struggled for several early seasons until receiving sage advice from a mentor, Sherry
3. He burned out as a result of overuse and the general ignorance of teams in those days concerning proper use of pitchers

So the challenge here is to find an organization where Koufax would still receive great advice, but also have time to properly develop and not be worked into early retirement. Enter the Braves, who in the 1990s shaped several young hurlers like John Smoltz, Tom Glavine, Steve Avery (who was briefly great before turning 24) and Jason Schmidt. Even Greg Maddux had just entered his prime when he hit town prior to the 1993 season and did his best work as a Brave.

Imagine Koufax among that bunch, in place of fellow lefthander Avery. Smoltz, Glavine, Maddux, and Avery won 75 games in 1993 and relegated my San Francisco Giants to a 103-59 second-place finish. With Koufax in tow, that number of victories might rise to 85, or more, since the stat converter on Baseball-Reference says a 27-year-old Koufax is good for a 24-9 finish with a 2.51 ERA for Atlanta in 1993.

There’s no telling if the input of the renowned Braves pitching coach in those years, Leo Mazzone, would supersede Sherry’s advice, boost his stats, or help him pitch beyond 30, though I’m thinking it might. Being part of a staff with Glavine, Maddux, and Smoltz could lighten Koufax’s load too, as the trio probably surpassed the talent of Koufax’s rotation mates in Los Angeles, Don Drysdale, Don Sutton, and others.

Needless to say, in this arrangement, my Giants don’t come anywhere closer to the 1993 World Series. From 1963 through 1966, Koufax helped keep the Giants from the postseason every year, going a combined 10-5 against San Francisco, with a 2.35 ERA and 141 strikeouts in 141.2 innings in these seasons. Koufax might not have been the greatest Giants killer, but with the Braves, he strikes San Francisco again.

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

Here is the latest from Joe Guzzardi, a regular Wednesday and Saturday contributor here. Today, Joe looks at Babe Ruth as a pitcher.

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For two seasons with the Boston Red Sox, Babe Ruth was a better pitcher than the Washington Senators’ Walter Johnson, the Hall of Fame hurler with 417 wins and career 2.17 ERA that many historians consider the best ever.

Even though Johnson would eventually rank second on the all-time list in wins (417), ninth in strikeouts (3,508) and hold the MLB record for shutouts (110), most strikeout titles (12) and is tied for the most shutouts titles (7), Ruth pitching in his prime outdid “The Big Train” In eight head-to-head match ups, Ruth bested Johnson six times.

During 1916 and 1917, Ruth compiled won-lost records of 23-12 and 24-13 with ERAs of 1.75 and 2.01.

In 1916, Ruth led the league in ERA and shut outs (9) and in 1917, in complete games (35).

Johnson put up some eye-popping numbers, too. But his statistics weren’t as good as Ruth’s. Over the same two years, “The Big Train” was 25-20 and 23-16 with ERAs of 1.89 and 2.30.

Of course, in 1920 the Red Sox traded Ruth to the New York Yankees where he became the most feared slugger in baseball. And he often faced his old pitching rival, Johnson.

In the September 1920 issue of Baseball Magazine, Johnson wrote an article titled “What I Pitch to Babe Ruth—and Why”

Johnson’s analysis provided great insight into how one immortal confronted another.

Johnson wrote:

Babe Ruth is the hardest hitter in the game. There can be no possible doubt. He is a tremendously powerful man. He uses an enormous bat so heavy that most players would find it an impossible burden. To him however, it is just the thing.

He hits a ball farther and drives it longer than any man I ever saw. I certainly hope he never drives one straight at me for while I know my pitching days have to end sometime, I don’t want them to end quite so suddenly.

Johnson’s career was ending as Ruth began his slugging rampage. And Johnson was aware that he always had to be his very, very best when facing Ruth.

Concluded Johnson:

Ruth is still a young fellow with his best years ahead of him. There is no pitcher who can stop him or prevent him from making his long hits. As a veteran pitcher with most of his career behind him and a rather uncertain future ahead of him, I can only say that every time I am called on to face Ruth, I shall do my best to get an extra hop on my fastball. Whatever happens, I wish Babe Ruth the best of luck.

Oddly, Boston and Washington played a role in Ruth’s final pitching appearance.

Although the Yankees won 91 games in 1933, they would finish seventh behind the Senators. So the Yankees advertised a special for the season’s last day.

Ruth would start against his old team where he had done his best pitching, the Boston Red Sox.

Then 38, Ruth knew that he didn’t have his good fastball so he relied on off-speed pitches and let his infielders do the work.

Thanks in large part to Ruth’s fifth inning 34th homer (has a pitcher ever hit clean up before or since?) into the right field bleachers and a two run single by Lou Gehrig, the Yankees led 6-0 after five innings.

In the sixth, Ruth ran out of gas, surrendering four runs on a walk and five hits. The Red Sox scored another single tally in the top of the eighth.

Despite his uneven performance, Ruth (1-0) barely hung on to get the credit for the 6-5 complete game victory.

His line: 9 IP, 12 H, 5ER, 3 BB, 0 K

After the game, Ruth announced that he would never pitch again. His lifetime record was 94-46 with an ERA of 2.28.

How good was Johnson?

Ruth, Ty Cobb, and Joe Jackson considered him the best ever. Johnson’s career strikeout record lasted for half a century. No one has ever come close to his 110 shutouts. Johnson’s Senators’ teams were so bad that the only way he could win was to keep his opponents from scoring.

Off the field, Johnson was considered one of the finest men who ever played baseball. Long time Senators’ announcer Arch McDonald described Johnson as “a gentleman and a gentle man.”

Here’s Johnson pitching to Ruth during a 1942 exhibition game long after both had retired:

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Joe Guzzardi is a member of the Society for American Baseball Research as well as the Internet Baseball Writers Association of America. Email him at guzzjoe@yahoo.com.

In a town just north of San Francisco, I watched as Sandy Koufax got a round of applause.

No, I wasn’t in a room full of Dodger fans, a nightmare for any longtime Giants supporter who knows only too well how Koufax forged the best years of his Hall of Fame career keeping San Francisco mostly out of the World Series. I was at a screening in Marin County on Sunday of Jews and Baseball: An American Love Story, a film about Jewish ballplayers from the 19th century to present day. For some reason, of the couple dozen players shown onscreen, Koufax got the loudest response. It happened right as my date was getting up to use the restroom, so I told her people were cheering for her, though of course, something else was at work here.

Greats like Koufax, Hank Greenberg, and some of the other Jewish ballplayers depicted in the film seemed to attract followings which transcended their teams and have inspired tributes even decades after retirement. Some of it is probably faith-related, and I noticed at least one person in a yarmulke. I suppose others, like myself, merely try to honor greatness in all its forms and can’t help but be touched by the grace of a Koufax or a Greenberg, who each stayed true to their faith and ideals and persevered through adversity. Their experience brings out the best in sports, no matter their team.

With that said, the film went well beyond the obvious. Last November, I re-watched The Life and Times of Hank Greenberg, a nice 1999 documentary about the Detroit Tigers Hall of Famer, but one that doesn’t explore much deeper than him. Jews and Baseball, on the other hand, features players as far back as the 1860s. There are of course the obligatory mentions of names that seemingly arise anytime there’s a discussion of Jewish ballplayers, stars like Koufax, Greenberg, and, in recent years, Shawn Green. But over the 91-minute running time, we learn of such forgotten heroes and would-be greats as Lip Pike, Andy Cohen and Mose Solomon who was touted as “The Rabbi of Swat,” when he joined the New York Giants in 1923. I enjoyed and was somewhat surprised at the history lesson.

Some of it may be a credit to screenwriter Ira Berkow, a retired sports columnist for the New York Times, who penned an engrossing biography of sportswriter Red Smith in my personal collection. The film, which screened as part of the San Francisco Jewish Film Festival, was directed by Peter Miller, a veteran of the documentary circuit. Miller’s biography shows no baseball-related works, though he has producing credits on three non-sports projects by Ken Burns, who directed the Baseball mini-series that aired on PBS in 1994. Whatever the methodology, the result is something better than a mere cobbling of Koufax, Greenberg and Green anecdotes, which could have been an easy out for this project. This also was a great movie to see with a non-baseball fan.

At least one former ballplayer was in attendance Sunday, a San Francisco native named Ed Mayer who pitched for the Cubs in 1957 and 1958. Mayer was passing out replicas of this card to moviegoers on Sunday:

I chatted with Mayer after the film, and he told a story that bears repeating here. The film drew parallels between black and Jewish ballplayers, who each faced stereotypes from opposing players and fans. While Mayer said that in the minor leagues he endured anti-Semitic taunts from a fan in Minneapolis and was denied entry to a members-only club in Phoenix, he said blacks had it tougher.

Mayer recalled a minor league bus trip in Georgia with future 22-game winner Earl Wilson. At a service station, Wilson attempted to buy a Coke and had a gun pulled on him by the station owner. Mayer wound up buying the coke for Wilson from the owner and noted to me, “If he knew I was a Jew, he would’ve shot me too.”

Here is a guest post from Joe Guzzardi, who writes Double the fun every Saturday, examining one famous doubleheader each week. Today, Joe discusses on one of my favorite occurrences in baseball: When a well-known hitter takes a turn pitching.

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When he grew up in the Bronx, my Italian immigrant father rooted for the New York Yankees. His particular favorites over the years were Tony Lazarri, Joe DiMaggio and Yogi Berra.

But Dad always quietly rooted for another Bronx boy, even though Rocco Domenico Colavito played most of his career for the rival Cleveland Indians and Detroit Tigers.

When he was 16 Colavito, who had played semi-pro ball since he was 9, dropped out of school to pursue baseball exclusively. Even though Colavito lived in Yankee Stadium’s shadow, the Bronx Bombers showed little interest in signing him.

Eventually, Colavito inked with the Cleveland Indians. Because of his prodigious power, good looks and willingness to sign autographs for hours, Colavito became an immediate fan favorite.

Little wonder fans loved Colavito. In June 1959, the Sporting News touted Colavito as the “American League player most likely to emulate and possibly surpass Babe Ruth’s record of 60 home runs in one season.”

That bold prediction followed Colavito’s June 10th four home run, six RBI performance against the Baltimore Orioles at Memorial Stadium that propelled the Indians to an 11-6 win. Properly described as cavernous, the old ball park measured nearly 450’ from left center to right center field.

Power numbers notwithstanding, the Indians abruptly and infamously traded Colavito to the Detroit Tigers just before the 1960 season for Harvey Kuenn.

In 1959, Colavito led the American League in home runs with 42; Kuenn was the batting champion, .353. Read one gleeful Detroit post-trade headline: 42 Home Runs for 135 Singles!

By the time Colavito arrived in Detroit, the city had a well developed love affair with Al Kaline. So although Colavito averaged 35 homers during his four Tigers’ years, fans never embraced him.

But a bigger reason Colavito never developed the Detroit fan base he enjoyed in Cleveland was a manufactured feud instigated by popular Detroit Free Press sports writer Joe Falls.

Falls considered Colavito a “self-ordained deity.” Accordingly Falls, often the Tigers’ official scorer, never missed a chance to berate Colavito. As a sidebar to his columns, Falls created the RNBI (run not batted in) to publicly keep track of runners Colavito stranded. Falls’ open scorn understandably infuriated Colavito.

For the 1964 season, Colavito landed in Kansas City. Then to the delight of Indians’ rooters, he returned to Cleveland for 1965 and 1966. Colavito’s 108 RBIs in 1966 lead the American League.

By 1967, Colavito was a part-time player, his best years behind him. After short stays with the Chicago White Sox and the Los Angeles Dodgers, in midseason 1968 Colavito latched on with his boyhood favorite Yankees for his final baseball fling.

On August 25, 1968 the Yankees played a doubleheader against the Tigers in what would be one of Colavito’s final career appearances.

The Yankees, led by manager Ralph Houk, were slowly rebuilding from their 1966 last place finish. By the end of 1968, the team finished fifth but no thanks to Mickey Mantle who hit .235 and retired.

On a steamy Sunday afternoon in front of 32,000 both first game starters, the Tigers’ Pat Dobson and the Yankees’ Steve Barber got shelled. Dobson gave up five runs in the bottom of the sixth while Barber had allowed five after 3-1/3.

Houk called his bullpen. To the fans’ surprise, out strode Colavito. Like everyone in baseball, Houk knew that Colavito had a rifle arm. The Major was eager to give his veteran a shot at pitching.

Colavito exceeded expectations. By allowing only a double to Kaline and two walks during his 2-2/3 stint before giving way to Dooley Womack and Lindy McDaniel, Colavito (1-0) earned the credit for the 6-5 Yankee win.

In the nightcap, Colavito took his customary position in right field. The Yankees prevailed 5-4, and Colativo contributed a third-inning home run.

After 6-1/2 hours, Colavito turned in one of the most unusual days in modern baseball history: winning pitcher in the first game and home run hitting outfielder in the second.

Now a healthy 77, Colavito remains one of the Indians’ favorites. In 1976, Colavito was voted the most memorable Indian player. He was elected to the Indians’ All Century team in 2001 and to the Indians’ Hall of Fame in 2006.

Best of all, devoted Colavito fans have established a website to promote his Cooperstown candidacy.

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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

What he did: I mentioned DiMaggio in a post here Tuesday on why Cecil Travis belongs in the Hall of Fame. Were it up to me, I’d enshrine them both. Each man might already have a plaque in Cooperstown were it not for World War II service taking three full, prime seasons out of the middle of their careers. I believe that’s something baseball should celebrate rather than penalize.

As it stands, DiMaggio made seven All Star teams, was counted as one of the best defensive outfielders in his era, and finished with a .298 lifetime batting average. For years, his Boston Red Sox teammate Ted Williams had a pamphlet in his museum listing the reasons DiMaggio belonged in Cooperstown. He had some traction with the Baseball Writers Association of America, appearing on their Hall of Fame ballot nine times and peaking with 11.3 percent of the vote in 1973. Still, the Veterans Committee failed to enshrine DiMaggio, Travis too, within their lifetimes even as each man lived into his nineties and died within the last five years.

To a certain extent, DiMaggio seems like a poor man’s version of Ichiro Suzuki, with his fine defense, solid hitting, and similarly shortened career. What if DiMaggio, like Suzuki, played for the Seattle Mariners today?

Era he might have thrived in: Current

Why: To ensure his place in Cooperstown, DiMaggio would need a full career and a home team known for great defense. The Mariners might be that team.

As Sports Illustrated noted earlier this year, Seattle has begun to preach defense and a fielding metric known as Ultimate Zone Rating. Their cavernous ballpark, Safeco Field has caused them to emphasize pitching and promote players like Franklin Gutierrez, known as much for preventing extra base hits in center field than smacking them himself. I wonder if fellow center fielder DiMaggio would do even better. DiMaggio has a lower career fielding percentage than Gutierrez, .978 to .989, but twice had more assists in a season than Gutierrez has had his entire career. I also think having Suzuki in right field could boost DiMaggio’s numbers.

The flip side, of course, is that DiMaggio’s career batting average would almost certainly dip. The stat converter on Baseball-Reference.com says his lifetime clip would be .283 if he played his entire career on a team like the 2001 Mariners, .275 if he played for the current, lackluster squad. Beyond this, playing today, DiMaggio wouldn’t have the man who taught him to hit while he was with the San Francisco Seals in the Pacific Coast League, Lefty O’Doul. He also wouldn’t be in the same lineup as Ted Williams. Suzuki is hitting .331 lifetime. I doubt DiMaggio would come anywhere close to that in the modern era.

Defense, admittedly, is rarely a man’s ticket to Cooperstown, so DiMaggio might actually have less of a chance playing now were his batting average to drop significantly. Still, when given an opportunity, DiMaggio’s greatness shown. In 2004, I had a chance to interview him. DiMaggio seemed like as good a man off the field as on.

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