His nickname was “Super Chief” or just “Chief” for short, an obvious nod to his Cherokee ethnicity during less politically sensitive times. Opponents called him a “red ass,” which had nothing to do with his heritage. In the parlance of the day, that was an expression meant to describe a hard-throwing pitcher who was a fierce competitor and wasn’t above coming high and inside.
Allie Reynolds, a six-foot-four, 195-pound right-hander, pitched for Cleveland (1942-46) and New York Yankees (1947-54). For his career, he was 182-107 with a 3.30 ERA, 3.72 FIP, 1.386 WHIP, and 109 ERA+. After the 1946 season, Cleveland traded Reynolds straight up for future Hall of Fame second baseman Joe Gordon. The story goes that Cleveland offered any pitcher from their staff not named Bob Feller. Joe DiMaggio told Yankees president Larry MacPhail to get Reynolds. All Reynolds did for the Yankees was post a record of 131-60 with 48 saves (not yet an official statistic) in 434 games, 309 of which were starts, en route to earning six World Series rings. Yet he’s largely forgotten when the great Yankees teams from the 1940s and 1950s are discussed.
“The Greatest Two Ways”
Yankees manager Casey Stengel – and before him, Cleveland manager Lou Boudreau – used Reynolds as both a starter and a reliever. In his book, Memories of Summer, author Roger Kahn remembered an evening in the press room bar at Yankee Stadium when Stengel told him, “Reynolds is the greatest two ways, which is starting and relieving, the greatest ever, and I seen the great ones, (Christy) Mathewson and Cy Young and I wondered who that fat old guy was, which tells you what a dumb young punk I was. (Mathewson was a) splendid pitcher and a splendid gentleman, which had been to a fine college in Pennsylvania, but you was asking me about Reynolds and I have informed you with my thoughts.”
The 30-year-old Reynolds started his Yankees career with consecutive complete-game shutouts of the Washington Senators and Boston Red Sox. He was inconsistent in 1947, however, despite finishing 19-8 with a 3.20 ERA and two saves. He pitched four shutouts but also led the majors by surrendering 23 home runs. His teammates chipped in with advice. Fellow pitcher Spud Chandler encouraged him to get mentally tougher and dictate tempo. Outfielder Charlie Keller told him to mix his pitches better. Reynolds took these nuggets to heart. Yankees coach Chuck Dressen, on the other hand, thought Reynolds was too tight on the days he pitched. For the Super Chief’s Yankees debut, Dressen recommended three shots of brandy: one during warmups, one right before the game, and one in the third inning. Reynolds, a rare player from that era who didn’t drink, tried that experiment for his first game and abandoned it despite the successful result. He hated Dressen thereafter.
“Better in a Close Game”
His 19-8 record was possible largely due to the offensive support Reynolds received from his Yankees teammates. This charge would recur and haunt him after his career when his Hall of Fame eligibility was discussed. His Yankees teammates thought it was hogwash. “He was better in a close game,” catcher Yogi Berra told Paul Post for the May 1999 issue of Baseball Digest. “When we gave him a lot of runs, he fooled around too much.” Keller agreed that Reynolds got “sloppy” with big leads, especially in front of small crowds. That might at least partially reconcile Reynolds’ won-lost records with his ERA, high by the standards of his era.
Reynolds started two games in the 1947 World Series, beating the Brooklyn Dodgers, 10-3, in Game 2 with a complete game performance, and escaping Game 6 with a no-decision after a poor outing that was overshadowed by Brooklyn’s Al Gionfriddo’s spectacular catch against DiMaggio.
In 1948, Reynolds was 16-7 for a Yankees team that found itself in an unfamiliar spot: third place in the American League. Reynolds would have to wait a year for his big moment.
“The Greatest Game Reynolds Has Pitched”
That moment came on October 5, 1949, in Game 1 of the World Series at Yankee Stadium. World Series games had been televised before, but this was the first one to be telecast to the entire nation. Reynolds would be matched up against Brooklyn’s 23-year-old Don Newcombe, the National League Rookie of the Year, who joined the Dodgers after two seasons in the second Negro National League. At six-foot-four, 220 pounds, the hard-throwing right-handed Newcombe was an imposing figure on the mound. He was 17-8 with a 3.17 ERA and 1.211 WHIP in 1949. Reynolds’ record was a little better at 17-6, but his 4.00 ERA and 1.512 WHIP were the highest of his Yankees career, perhaps due to “fooling around too much” with big leads.
Game 1 was a pitchers’ duel for the ages. Newcombe, armed with bitterness over Major League Baseball’s former color barrier, was ready to take it out on the Yankees. He badly wanted to beat Reynolds, who’d knocked down Larry Doby, the Cleveland player who broke the color barrier in the AL, several times in Doby’s first season.
Through eight innings, the game was scoreless. Only one runner had reached third base. Newcombe surrendered just four hits – two by Reynolds – and no walks while striking out 11. Reynolds had given up a mere two hits but walked four while striking out nine. There were no radar games in those days, but Newcombe told author David Halberstam in Summer of ’49 that he thought his fastball was traveling around 96-97 mph, and that Reynolds was throwing equally as hard.
As Reynolds retired the Dodgers in order in the top of the ninth, legendary broadcaster Red Barber told his radio audience, “This is the greatest game Reynolds has pitched in his entire career.” Reynolds told Halberstam that he thought he pitched as well in that game as he had during his two no-hitters. (More on those shortly.) After Reynolds recorded the last out, Barber’s broadcasting partner, Mel Allen, told his listeners that Reynolds should have had a no-hitter, believing that the Dodgers’ two hits should have been caught by Yankees fielders. The game was over when the Yankees’ Tommy Henrich led off the bottom of the ninth with a long home run against Newcombe. Today it would be called a “walk-off.” Newcombe walked off as soon as the ball was hit and was in the Dodgers dugout before Henrich even reached home. It was the beginning of an unfair “can’t-win-the-big-one” reputation for “Big Newk.”
The teams split the next two games. In Game 4, the Yankees gave starter Eddie Lopat what should have been a comfortable 6-0 lead against Newcombe, who wasn’t as effective this time, heading into the bottom of the sixth. But Lopat quickly gave up four runs and had runners on first and third with two outs. Although Reynolds was scheduled to start Game 5, Stengel saw an opportunity to take a commanding 3-1 Series lead and seized it, summoning Reynolds from the bullpen. Reynolds struck out Spider Jorgensen to end the threat and finished the game without allowing a baserunner to earn a save. The Yankees won Game 5 without Reynolds’ services.
“I Pitched Around Williams”
That began a streak of five consecutive years in which the Yankees won the World Series. Reynolds was 16-12 in 1950, a season highlighted by his 10-inning, 2-1 complete game victory over Robin Roberts in Game 2 of the World Series as the Yankees swept the Philadelphia Phillies. In 1951, Reynolds was 17-8 with a 3.05 ERA and six saves, leading the majors with seven shutouts and the fewest hits (seven) allowed per nine innings. More significantly, he became the first AL pitcher to record two no-hitters in the same season. The first came on July 12 against his former team, Cleveland. The second one occurred against the Red Sox on September 28.
With one out to go in that one, Reynolds had to face the great Ted Williams. Reflecting on his career in 1971, Reynolds told John Wilson of The Houston Chronicle, “It was a joke how often I walked Ted Williams. I pitched around Williams.” (Indeed, Reynolds walked Williams 28 times in 96 plate appearances.) This time, Reynolds went right at Williams. He got Williams to pop up to catcher Berra. There was one problem – Berra dropped the ball. No matter. On the next pitch, Williams popped up to Berra again. This time, Berra held onto the ball.
Reynolds’ greatest season came in 1952, when he was 20-8 with six saves, leading the majors with a 2.06 ERA, six shutouts, and a 161 ERA+ and the AL with 16 strikeouts, finishing as the runner-up for the AL Most Valuable Player Award while being worth 4.7 WAR, although at the time, the only war anybody talked about was raging in Korea. He was a major factor in the 1952 World Series, which the Yankees won over Brooklyn, starting two games and relieving in two others. The Dodgers won three of the first five games and headed to Ebbets Field needing to win just one of two. Reynolds relieved in both games, earning a save in Game 6 and the win in Game 7.
In July 1953, a strange accident on the team bus left Reynolds with a permanent back injury. Thus began a period of relative decline, although he was 26-11 across 1953-54. The Yankees won another World Series in 1953 despite Reynolds’ ineffectiveness in that Series. After the Yankees finished second in 1954, Reynolds decided to retire rather than continue to pitch in pain. He’d told Kahn he made more money from oil investments than he did from baseball anyway.
“If It Happens, It Happens”
Lopat had warned Reynolds that he was jeopardizing his Hall of Fame chances by making so many relief appearances. Some of his teammates felt that he belonged in the Hall anyway. He was on the ballot from 1956-74. The best he ever did with the Baseball Writers Association of America was to garner 33.6 percent of the vote in 1966. The Veterans Committee considered him for election four more times. He came close in 2009, with two-thirds of the vote, but never made it.
In 1986, Reynolds told the wire services, “I’m indifferent now about whether I make the Hall of Fame. If it happens, it happens. I’m laid back on that. . . I knew that was going to happen with all the relief work I did with the Yankees. That really was a career-shortener. But to me, that was important. Teamwork was more important than some kind of honor.”
Under the metrics used in baseball today, Reynolds probably falls short. His career ERA+ is well below average for a Hall-of-Famer. He walked more than his fair share, resulting in a mere 1.13 strikeout-to-walk ratio. He finished in the top 10 in pitchers’ WAR only twice. Metrics guru Bill James created three tests to determine a pitcher’s Hall of Fame worthiness. Of course, these aren’t in use by either the BBWAA or the Veterans Committee, but they’re fun and interesting. In only one of these tests is Reynolds deemed worthy of induction.
Even so, it’s a little hard to believe that Reynolds’ candidacy never got strong support, considering that he pitched in the biggest media market during an era when the won-lost record was the most important statistic for a pitcher. Even harder to imagine is that he’s a forgotten man today whenever the Yankee dynasty is discussed. I guess that’s what happens when one plays in the shadow of the likes of Berra, DiMaggio, Mickey Mantle, and Phil Rizzuto.
Afterword: A New Chief?
It was hard not to think of Reynolds when Joba Chamberlain joined the Yankees at the age of 21 in 2007. Like Reynolds, Chamberlain was a big, hard-throwing right-hander of Native American descent who was used as a starter and a reliever. Yankees manager Joe Torre, however, was under orders to proceed with caution with the young commodity. Thus, Chamberlain was never the workhorse that Reynolds was. Across 2007-08, Chamberlain was living up to the hype, posting a 2.17 ERA, 1.158 WHIP, and 4.9 WAR.
I was there on June 25, 2008, when Chamberlain tossed 6.2 scoreless innings against the Pittsburgh Pirates, on an evening where Yankees fans started brawls in the stands over the 1960 World Series, even though none of them looked like they were even born in 1960. I thought I was witnessing something special that night. As one who wishes he was around to see 1950s baseball, seeing what I thought was the second coming of the Super Chief excited me to a ridiculous extent. Alas, Chamberlain wasn’t the vessel through which history would repeat itself. He was inconsistent from 2009-13 as a Yankee. He finished his career with three more teams. Then he was done at age 31, with a career mark of 25-21, seven saves, a 3.81 ERA, and 1.379 WHIP. Nobody ever called him Super Chief 2.0 or anything similar. There would be only one Super Chief.
