Looking back at this week, we find gambling, attempted murder, assault, an unusual no-hitter, and surprise transactions. Other than that, it was a normal week in baseball.
Big Doings with the Dodgers
March 24, 1947: My No. 1 rule in following political campaigns: If a candidate accuses his opponent of an untoward action, you can bet he did the same thing himself, only worse. So it was in baseball, too, when Brooklyn Dodgers manager Leo Durocher, with help from team president Branch Rickey, accused New York Yankees president Larry MacPhail of consorting with gamblers in Cuba. MacPhail countercharged that the conduct of Durocher and Rickey was “detrimental to baseball.” On this date, commissioner Happy Chandler began a series of hearings, expected to last the entire week, to resolve the matter. Among the known witnesses was former Dodger outfielder Augie Galan, who was expected to testify whether Durocher had gamblers in the Brooklyn clubhouse in 1945.
On that same day, Associated Press ran a photo of Montreal Royals star and 1946 International League batting champion Jackie Robinson looking at a pamphlet containing the Dodgers roster, under the heading, “He May Add His Name.” If he makes the team, the 28-year-old infielder will break Major League Baseball’s long-held, unofficial color barrier. Spoiler alert: Robinson will make it. Durocher, not MacPhail, will be suspended for the 1947 season.
A No-Hitter Like No Other
March 24, 2017: Sure, it was only a spring training exhibition game, but it was cool nonetheless. At Tempe Diablo Stadium, eight Los Angeles Angels pitchers combined to pitch a no-hitter against the Seattle Mariners, who posted a lineup largely devoid of regular players. The pitchers were Bud Norris, José Álvarez, Cam Bedrosian, Andrew Bailey, Austin Adams, Drew Gagnon, Justin Anderson, and Abel De Los Santos. Only two Mariners reached base: Jean Segura on catcher’s interference and Zach Shank on a walk issued by Adams.
Giants Fire Trainer for Shooting His Assistant
March 26, 1906: New York Giants manager John McGraw fired team trainer Harry Tuthill after Tuthill drew a pistol and shot a man identified only as “Big Jeffries,” Tuthill’s “colored aide.” (It’s interesting but not surprising that in 1906, the newspapers felt the need to point out the victim’s race.) The two men argued in the lobby of a hotel in Memphis, where the Giants trained, about who was the better trainer. Whether the argument turned into a scuffle is unclear. Finally, Tuthill, who’d trained the boxer Young Corbett, fired and put a hole in his assistant’s leg. Tuthill then hastily fled the scene, after which McGraw “stated emphatically” that Tuthill’s tenure with the Giants was over.
Apparently, McGraw wasn’t overly emphatic. Tuthill, along with Big Jeffries, remained with the team after the incident. Tuthill’s name will grace these pages again. Keep checking back.
Red Sox Cut Two Future Hall-of-Famers
March 26, 1974: Usually, future Hall-of-Famers, especially those who served their current team for a long period, get to say when their careers are finished, but Boston Red Sox first-year manager Darrell Johnson didn’t get that memo. In a turn of events few saw coming, shortstop Luis Aparicio and designated hitter Orlando Cepeda were released outright to make room for younger players. Johnson told the Associated Press that it was a tough decision to release Aparicio, who took the news with grace. However, Cepeda said, “I’m really shocked and disappointed. Somebody told me not to trust Johnson because he was two-faced.”
In 1973, neither was the player he was in his prime, nor did either have a terrible season. Aparicio hit .271, better than the .261 lifetime average with which he entered 1973, and was worth 11 Fielding Runs Above Average, although Johnson wouldn’t have had access to that latter stat in 1974. Cepeda hit .289/.350/.444, added 20 home runs to the 358 that he’d accumulated before joining the team in 1973, and received votes for the American League Most Valuable Player. Aparicio ended his career, while Cepeda stuck it out for one unsuccessful season with the Kansas City Royals.
I’ve Heard of Being Traded for a Rental, but This is Ridiculous
March 28, 1913: There’s a gap in the transaction history of St. Louis Browns infielder Clyde Wares. On August 10, 1912, the Browns acquired Wares in a multi-player trade with the Montgomery Rebels of the Southern Association. The next entry in his transaction log shows that on August 14, 1913, the Browns purchased Wares from Montgomery. But didn’t they already have Wares? What happened between those two dates?
Fortunately, I was able to put my crack research team (me) to work to find the answer. It seems that in 1913, Montgomery permitted the Browns to use its ballpark for spring training. On the final day of spring camp, Browns manager George Stovall informed Wares that he was the “rent.” Wares played for Montgomery in 1913 and hit .256 until he was sold back to the Browns later that year. We’ve all heard of a player being traded for a rental, but this was perhaps the only time in baseball history that the expression could be taken literally.
“What Do You Got to Say, Punk?”
March 28, 1977: After hitting a less-than-robust .224/.286/.273 while providing below-average defense in 1976, Texas Rangers second baseman Lenny Randle went to spring training believing he’d locked down a starting position for the 1977 season. His manager, Frank Lucchesi, had another idea and awarded the spot to Bump Wills before spring training even started. Upset, Randle would eventually threaten to leave camp but was persuaded to stay by three teammates. At the time, Lucchesi, reportedly inundated with trade requests from various players, told United Press International, “It’s just too damn bad somebody stopped him from leaving. I’m tired of these punks saying play me or trade me. Anyone who makes $80,000 a year and gripes and moans all spring is not going to get a tear out of me.”
Randle felt disrespected and, on this day, went to discuss it with his 50-year-old manager. Suddenly, Randle knocked Lucchesi to the ground with one punch, breaking his cheekbone, and continued to pummel him as he lay on the ground. Randle told UPI, “All I wanted to do was talk. But he said to me, ‘What do you got to say, punk?’” If true, it probably wasn’t the smartest way to address an athlete 23 years his junior. I can’t imagine, say, Kevin Cash or Terry Francona handling a player’s request to speak with him similarly. For his part, Lucchesi called the attack “completely unprovoked.” Lucchesi spent the night in an Orlando hospital, while Randle was suspended immediately after the attack. Doctors decided that no surgery was necessary for Lucchesi, Randle was traded before the suspension ended, and they all lived happily ever after.
