Header - Baseball by the Letters

Month: March 2010

Roy Sievers, St. Louis Cardinal?

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Long before spring training, the Hot Stove League of my mind
battled the Iowa winter. Instead of forecasting baseball 2010,
I pondered several possibilities of seasons past.

One “what if?” that’s called to me has been the
case of Roy Sievers.

The five-time All-Star finished his career with 318 home runs and 1,147 RBI.

The 1949 American League Rookie of the Year, this St.
Louis native chose the Browns over the Cardinals.
Redbirds super-scout Walter Shannon knew how talented
Sievers was. Still, Sievers slipped away.

When he did, Sievers saw his career shaped by
owner Bill Veeck.

What did he remember about considering the Cardinals?
How did Veeck inspire him?

Sievers wrote:

“Walter Shannon was a close friend of mine — watching me play ball and he even managed our baseball team (American Legion). He came out to my house every week to get me to sign with the Cardinals. Back then, the Cardinals had a great ball club — a lot of them were just starting.

My dad and I thought it best to sign with the Browns, due to the fact I could make it to the big leagues faster. As it turned out, everything worked out alright. Playing with the Cardinals would have been great. They were a good club.

Bill Veeck was a great owner to play for. He saved my career with the things he did medical wise. Sent me to the best hospital and doctor in Baltimore, John Hopkins. Doctor wrote me up in the medical books as the best operation performed on a ballplayer. Ended up playing 17-1/2 years in the big leagues.

Bill and Mary Frances were always great people. He treated players great. He knew their values. he was a showman. People loved him. All the things he did were for the good of the game.”

Since 1949, one other person has focused on “the good of the game.” Whether with the Browns or the Cardinals, Roy Sievers seemed destined to be a local hero.

Jim Roland, Perfect Pitcher

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Left-hander Jim Roland, a 10-year hurler for the Twins, Athletics, Yankees and Rangers, died at age 67 this month.

To most fans, Roland didn’t have Hall of Fame stats. Don’t tell that to autograph collectors.

According to www.sportscollectors.net, Roland was perfect.

Collectors log their through-the-mail attempts. The hobby scorecard read:

68 attempts
68 successes

Roland is just one of some two dozen baseball deaths in 2010. In the last four weeks, I’ve seen the loss of Frank Bertaina and Jim Bibby, two more hurlers from my childhood who were decent signers.

Baseball has no time clock. Baseball autograph collecting does. Whether you request a signature, ask a question, or say thanks for a memory, don’t wait. Time doesn’t.

Jim Greengrass of Home (in Cincy)

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Some players couldn’t dream up such a great stage name.

GREENGRASS. What a perfect name for baseball. Well, maybe “Homerun” would be a decent substitute for “Owens.”

Jim Greengrass began baseball’s wild career ride at age 16, signed as an amateur free agent by the Yankees. Two years in the minors. Two years in the military. An attempt to become a pitcher, scrapped after five straight losses.

Debuting with Cincinnati in September, 1952, Greengrass became a Reds regular in 1953, posting totals of 20 homers, 100 RBI and a .285 average. In 1954, Greengrass smashed a career-best 27 home runs.

However, phlebitis (painful inflammation of leg veins) short-circuited Greengrass’s career. His final big-league days would come with the 1956 Phillies.

Now 82, Greengrass took time to field three questions.

“Hi, Tom,

Thanks for the kind words and hope this note finds you and your family in good health and happy.

1. No making your contracts in those days. Highest salary was $40,000. Stan Musial and Ted Williams.

2. It was my ___ number (#23) through the years and my first at Cincy, so I kept it my whole Cincy career. Phillies first baseman had it when I went to them, so I got #10.

3. I have had that (phlebitis) since then, so you can see not much known about (phlebitis). And there is no cure. It’s tough but I have learned to live with pain. My blood is cloddish. Both legs. But still manage to get around some.

Many happy innings to you, Tom

— Jim”

In the last month, this is the first time I’ve been thrown a curve with any handwriting. Jim’s tight, small cursive is tricky here. He’s saying that #23 was his “basic” number or his “luckie” number. Both sound good to me.

A swell name. Someone who’s been there that still says CINCY. Let’s hope the 2010 season brings teams some more “green grasses.” Thanks to Jim, I know I’ll have many happy innings.

Autograph Collector Investigates Mysterious SASEs

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I’m writing today from the fringe of the autograph collecting hobby.

I haven’t been zoned on building sets of autographed cards. I cheer the
collectors who have the patience (and postage stamps) for such a goal.

From collecting back into the 1970s, I remember hearing from an elderly
retired player. “Is this card yours? If not, please send it back.”
I admire anyone who can keep track of who sent what, getting all
the cards autographed and back to their proper homes.

What puzzled me was the taped returned. In the last month, I’ve seen
tape on the back of a half-dozen envelopes.

Theories:

1. Homeland Security is monitoring my collecting progress? Nah…
2. The retiree had switched my letter with another SASE and had to reshuffle his replies.
3. The former player wanted to share more insight about his past, diving
back into the envelope to add one more anecdote.

I liked the third “explanation” most.

Actually, I’ll never be a CSI regular. My detective skills are slipping. The truth is that autograph signers have tired of “spit or sponge?” as the only choices for moistening each SASE. Or, they saw the Seinfeld episode in which George’s girlfriend keels over from toxic envelope glue?

I peeled some tape from a few replies. Each time, the glue remains. I applaud the major league minds who honed such a skill. Sign on!

Dave Garcia, Baseball’s Living History

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Dave Garcia is a library of baseball’s untold stories.

In 2009, the New York Times honored Garcia’s deep roots in baseball. I was hooked by the headline: A Baseball Elder’s Feel for the Game Endures.

I knew Garcia only as the toiling manager of the California Angels (1977-78) and Cleveland Indians (1979-82). That’s only one chapter in his baseball history. Garcia’s career in the game dates back to 1937, when he began his playing career as a St. Louis Browns minor leaguer. The reporter noted that, aside from Garcia’s three years in the Air Force, he made his living from baseball, all the way to being a part-time scout for the Cubs in 2009.

Garcia earned his shot at a big league managerial post. He owns 890 career wins as a minor league skipper.

I wrote, asking Garcia two questions. First, who were some of the players his was proudest of, ones who he helped reach the majors or achieve new levels of success? Secondly, how did he cope with the media during his managerial career?

Garcia’s reply began with a list:

“* Hoyt Wilhelm — Right hand pitcher, pitched in 1948, Knoxville, TN.
* Bill White — 1st base. 1954 Sioux City. Major league career with St. Louis. Became president of National League.
* Mike Hargrove — 1st base, Cleveland, 1979-82. Manager in majors with Cleveland, Seattle.
* Orlando Cepeda, 1955 — for short time in Kokomo, Indiana.
* Andre Thornton — 1st base, Cleveland, 1979-82.

Many more…

2. I had no problem with media. Many were very fair with me.
I didn’t pay attention to their criticism. I knew my players better than anyone else.”

Dodgers coach Manny Mota said that Garcia helped him learn English as
a minor leaguer. He called Garcia his “white father.”