Once, Owners Wrote Back to Fans

I troll the Internet monthly, looking to see who else has valued baseball letters. Not in a price guide sense, but in the historic treasures the notes uncover.

I found one — a baseball correspondence gem first shared in San Francisco, reflecting on the team’s World Series glory. An East Coast girl named Mary Jean Guidette told of trying to write to then-owner Horace Stoneham, hoping for an explanation, or even a reversal, of the team’s exodus from New York to San Francisco. Thirteen years after writing, Stoneham tried to make amends for his decision with a second reply to the fan. She shared her memory 56 years later.

Are the owners still paying attention today?

Tormenting Senators Manager Ted Williams

(Courtesy Dave Baldwin, http://www.snakejazz.com/)

Dave Baldwin only looked like a typical baseball player.

In his delightful memoir Snake Jazz, he includes the confessional chapter “Tormenting Ted.” When Ted Williams took over the Senators in 1969, he claimed that his clueless pitchers couldn’t even explain why a curveball curves.

The hurler from the University of Arizona responded with a short speech on the science behind an off-speed pitch. Upon realizing that this wasn’t a classroom discussion but a rhetorical challenge, Baldwin braced himself for Williams to come unglued. Instead, he won the skipper’s grudging admiration.

Knowing this, I asked Baldwin how he felt about the diverse education of his teammates.Baldwin’s first full year in Washington was highlighted by 58 appearances. He geared up  for a 162-game schedule, however.

“About the 1967 Washington bullpen, we had five “go to” guys — Darold Knowles, Casey Cox, Dick Lines, Bob Humphreys and me (a photo of us is in the Photo Gallery at www.snakejazz.com). I was up and throwing nearly every game whether I appeared or not. But then, living in Tucson, I had thrown nearly every day since I was a kid.”

“Regarding teammates with an academic background, I found other college-educated players on all of the teams I played on. Relating to teammates, educated or not was never a problem for me — we all had one interest in common — baseball — and that was enough.”

Pitcher Dave Baldwin’s 20-Inning ‘Save’ in 1967

From the pitcher’s own website:
“Dave’s now famous
Howdy Doody impression.”

Dave Baldwin proves that there’s life beyond baseball. Since retiring as a pitcher, he’s become a poet, academic (Dr. Baldwin holds a Ph.D in genetics), artist and author.

His memoir Snake Jazz (baseball lingo for a certain pitch) is something all fans should savor. How does it FEEL to be a major leaguer? Baldwin paints a complete picture. Every baseball bookshelf deserves Snake Jazz.

Speaking of painting, you can see his art on his website, too. You can order autographed copies of the book directly from Baldwin.

I asked Baldwin about his first victory in the bigs, a 20-inning affair in Minnesota that took just under six hours. It was a win, not a save. The save applied, as in “save face.” Baldwin shared:

“In that 20-inning game in Minnesota, I was trying to redeem myself after losing the previous game on a very stupid pitch. The longer an extra-inning game lasts, the more determined both teams become to win it.

Ken McMullen hit a home run to win the game, which put us over .500. I don’t remember how many fans were there at the end of the game.”

Tomorrow: Baldwin shares more memories of the 1967 Washington Senators.

Hollywood, Remember Pitcher Lou Brissie!

To get through the long winter, I seek out baseball movies and documentaries. Here’s one that needs to be made: The Lou Brissie Story.

Everyone knows (or should know) the story of Lou Brissie, the World War II veteran who won the Purple Heart. He won my heart by continuing his dream of major league baseball, even after a wartime attack shattered one leg in 30 places. he became a 1949 All-Star, winning 16 games.

A great place to learn more is the fine SABR biography by acclaimed researcher Bill Nowlin. Then, check out the book The Corporal Was a Pitcher: The Courage of Lou Brissie.

I asked about a triple Brissie hit. (Nice work, http://www.retrosheet.org/.) Imagine legging out a triple with just one good leg. He replied:

“I do not recall the triple. I think the ball took an odd bounce off the wall. I’m just not sure.”

Brissie’s book details his friendship with infielder Hank Majeski. They stayed in touch for years after retirement, until Majeski’s death. Brissie’s tribute:

“Hank, a great player, came through in tough situations, Quiet but 100 percent all the time. A great person and friend.”

Can Brissie imagine a player today, someone who reflects the determination of his teammates like Majeski, someone he could even have served with?

“The one player I can think of plays shortstop for the Yankees, Derek Jeter.”

I was moved by this 2007 ESPN profile of Brissie’s devotion to soldiers wounded in Iraq and Afghanistan. Also, in Nowlin’s SABR biography, he reveals how Brissie nixed a movie during his career.

Dear Fergie Jenkins: Dust Him Off!

Dear Fergie,

I’ve written you twice before, the last being my blog post on Sept. 26.

I just received word from Doug Gladstone, author of A Bitter Cup of Coffee. He’s gone to bat for the 874 “gap” players, those playing between 1947-79, shunned for pensions and health insurance simply because they played less than four seasons. All who came later hit the jackpot with just a day on a major league roster.

Doug has posted an update on your willingness to help your baseball brethren. He blew the whistle on Dan Foster, the big cheese of the MLB Players Association. Supposedly, the director called you to ask for your silence?

What did you do with such guys during your career, Fergie? Those who hung over the plate, crowding you?

You never backed down. You answered with chin music, dusting the dudes off.

Reclaim the inside part of the plate. Flex your Hall of Fame muscle. Please, make baseball history AGAIN. Speak out, for those who have no voice.

Still your fan,
Tom