Header - Baseball by the Letters

Month: April 2010

Not All Heroes Are on Scorecards

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How do I choose the personalities to write to as I collect baseball memories? I don’t limit myself to 25-man rosters or official entries in any encyclopedia. If someone has a life and career that speaks to me as a fan, I want more of their story.

As I maintain my goal of sending a letter a day, here’s the people my next sheet of FOREVER stamps are reserved for…

RANDY WEHOFER (pictured above): Iowa Cubs team announcer who played a, yes, team announcer, in the movie Sugar.

NANCY FAUST: White Sox team organist retiring in 2010, her 41st season. She got crowds to sing —

“Na, na, na, na. Na, na, na, na. Hey, hey, hey. Goodbye”

MIKE VEECK: Minor league baseball visionary, son of Hall of Fame team owner Bill Veeck.

SISTER MARY ASSUMPTA: Cleveland Indians super-fan who has baked cookies to give to her “boys” for 25 years. Featured on a 1997 Upper Deck promo card.

KADIR NELSON: Gifted illustrator and creator of the stunning book We Are the Ship: The Story of Negro League Baseball.

DAVE RAYMOND: The first Phillies Phanatic.

DENNIS RIMA: One of the “Ghost Players” who’ve performed at Iowa’s Field of Dreams and around the world.

Stay tuned!

Walter Alston & Casey Stengel Successful Today? Not Likely, Says Pitcher Larry Miller

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Back in 2001, former pitcher Larry Miller still threw strikes.

Verbal strikes, that is.

Miller didn’t sugar-coat his opinions when asked about hurling for two
Hall of Fame managers in a three-year career. Furthermore, Miller slung
a high, hard one at the 1960s Mets organization.

“I never got to know either Alston or Stengel as people,” Miller began. “As managers, they had similar skills as far as making proper strategic moves during a game. Neither spent much effort trying to connect with the players. My belief is that neither would be very successful managing today’s players who require and demand special considerations.”

When coach Wes Westrum took over the Mets following Stengel’s retirement, Miller felt that the new manager was doomed.

“Westrum took over a team still brimming with expansion players. The core of the ’69 Mets (Seaver, Ryan, Koosman, McGraw, etc.) were just coming into the organization as minor leaguers. The best manager in baseball at that time would have had difficulty improving the Mets record.

“The old saying ‘You can’t make chicken salad out of chicken s – – – ‘ applies here.”

Walter Alston & Casey Stengel Successful Today? Not Likely, Says Pitcher Larry Miller

by


Back in 2001, former pitcher Larry Miller still threw strikes.

Verbal strikes, that is.

Miller didn’t sugar-coat his opinions when asked about hurling for two
Hall of Fame managers in a three-year career. Furthermore, Miller slung
a high, hard one at the 1960s Mets organization.

“I never got to know either Alston or Stengel as people,” Miller began. “As managers, they had similar skills as far as making proper strategic moves during a game. Neither spent much effort trying to connect with the players. My belief is that neither would be very successful managing today’s players who require and demand special considerations.”

When coach Wes Westrum took over the Mets following Stengel’s retirement, Miller felt that the new manager was doomed.

“Westrum took over a team still brimming with expansion players. The core of the ’69 Mets (Seaver, Ryan, Koosman, McGraw, etc.) were just coming into the organization as minor leaguers. The best manager in baseball at that time would have had difficulty improving the Mets record.

“The old saying ‘You can’t make chicken salad out of chicken s – – – ‘ applies here.”

Recalling Shag Crawford, Umpire, WWII Vet

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Henry Charles “Shag” Crawford was kind enough to reply to a letter I sent him years ago. Although he passed away in 2007 at age 90, I can’t forget the important lesson his words imparted:

Great umpires love the game.

Crawford wrote me:

“Mickey Cochrane and Al Lopez were great receivers with excellent arms. The two gentlemen I mention were playing when I was a young lad attending ball games in Philadelphia. They impressed me the most. I did not see anyone to surpass them during my baseball life.

Del Crandall impressed me the most. He was an excellent caller of pitches and was an excellent field leader.

I must say catchers in the big leagues, on the whole, are not much for gabbing behind the plate. Occasionally, a joke or two may transpire between a catcher and the hitter. Usually, the hitter would be the initiator.”

Crawford’s fearless work behind the plate makes more sense when you learn of his World War II service. Maybe, his middle initial of “C” stood for “courage.”

Cub Phil Cavarretta strikes out…

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Me!

To celebrate the two-month anniversary of Baseball By The letters, I thought I’d log another first.

On April 15, I wrote to Phil Cavarretta, sending a letter with three questions:

1. What are you proudest of from your 1945 MVP season — and why?

2. What do you remember about family and friends getting to see you, a Chicago resident, play in Wrigley Field for the first time?

3. What was the hardest part about being a player-manager?

In the past, I find that a retiree might solo on one of three questions. The other two might get a “?” or slash-mark. That’s fine. Asking three times triples my chances.

My letter came back in the SASE. No autograph. No comments. Nothing.

Searching the signing history in the mail feature on the ever-so-valuable www.sportscollectors.net yielded a valuable clue. In 2004, another collector received his questionnaire returned blank.

(NOTE: I do not send a fill-in-the-blank worksheet filled with questions. I think using the term “questionnaire” in a fan letter is a red flag, making me scarier than a census worker.)

Nonetheless, I took solace in knowing that I wasn’t the first inquisitive fan to get shunned by P.C.

At most recent check from the superb autograph website, collectors are batting 88 percent with Mister C. There are 282 successful replies for signatures, the last one coming April 10. Even into his 90s, Cavarretta is still signing.

Will a fan ever get anything more than his name, or the “1945 MVP” notation he’ll add on request?

On March 29, 1954, then player-manager Cavarretta was asked by Cubs owner P.K. Wrigley what the team’s chances were that year. The skipper informed his boss, completely and honestly. The result? Someone was fired in spring training for his “defeatist attitude.”

Perhaps, Cavarretta has been dodging questions ever since.

What’s been the best “extra” you’ve received in a by-mail reply lately?