It’s time for more baseball history, delivered to you every week directly from my twisted mind to your eyes, no Artificial Intelligence involved, although some may argue that no intelligence at all is involved. In any event, sit back and enjoy the highlights from the period July 26 to August 1, spanning baseball’s many years.
Hitting Streaks Stopped
July 26, 1933: Every self-respecting baseball fan is well aware of the great Joe DiMaggio’s 56-game hitting streak of 1941 during which the New York Yankees climbed the American League standings from fourth place to the pennant. Some may not be aware that he also had a 61-game hitting streak for the San Francisco Seals of the Pacific Coast League when he was 18 years old. That streak was stopped on this day. During his more famous streak, he recalled the day his 61-game streak ended to Daniel M. Daniel of the New York World-Telegram.
“I will never forget the day I was stopped,” said DiMaggio. “It was against Oakland and Ed Walsh, Jr. was pitching. He sure stopped me. But I got my revenge. In the ninth inning, I drove out a long [sacrifice] fly which won the battle for us.”
August 1, 1978: At Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium, the Cincinnati Reds’ Pete Rose had his National League record 44-game hitting streak stopped by rookie left-hander Larry McWilliams and veteran reliever Gene Garber of the Atlanta Braves. Against McWilliams, Rose walked, lined out to the pitcher, and grounded out to shortstop. He lined out to the third baseman against Garber and got one more shot at him with two outs in the ninth inning. Although the Braves were winning, 16-4, there was a World Series-like atmosphere in the stadium as Rose faced off against Garber while what remained of the 31,159 in attendance stood and cheered. After a bunt attempt went foul – Rose extended the streak with bunts six times – Garber struck him out.
“That shot up the middle should have been my hit,” Rose told United Press International. “I don’t see how McWilliams caught it. If he wasn’t so tall [six-foot-five], I don’t think he could have reached it.”
History Repeats Itself
July 26, 1963: When Houston Colt .45s third baseman Bob Aspromonte last appeared in this column, we recalled his grand slam against the Chicago Cubs after young Billy Bradley, who was temporarily blinded by lightning and facing surgery, asked him to hit a home run for him. Aspromonte, who wasn’t a power hitter, hedged and said he’d try. Now Billy was back in the Colts’ clubhouse after the second of three successful operations to restore his sight, and asked Aspromonte to hit another home run for him. This time, according to John B. Holway of Baseball Digest, Aspromonte said, “I don’t hit many homers, but with you here, I really believe I’m going to hit one.” The Colts loaded the bases for Aspromonte in the bottom of the first inning. Aspromonte connected against the New York Mets’ Tracy Stallard for another grand slam, staking Houston to a 4-0 lead and ultimately a 7-3 win.
In 1974, Aspromonte lost his eyesight, too, when a car battery exploded in his face. His vision was restored 40 percent by the same surgeon who’d helped Billy.
Those Wacky New York Giants
July 30, 1911: The Giants were in St. Louis for a four-game series when manager John McGraw met a 30-year-old farmer from Marion, Kansas named Charlie Faust, who introduced himself as “Charles Victory Faust.” Faust’s actual middle name was Victor. Over the years, many accounts have been presented about their meeting. Faust may have descended from the stands before a game, or he may have encountered McGraw in the hotel lobby. He may have had a dream that the Giants won the pennant with him pitching, or he may have gone to a fortune teller who told him he’d become a great baseball player if he joined the Giants.
Amused, McGraw gave him a tryout. Faust may have been wearing his Sunday suit, or he may have been wearing a uniform that was too small. What was agreed upon was that as a pitcher, he had nothing on the ball. McGraw then instructed him to bat and run the bases. Faust hit a dribbler to the pitcher, which resulted in a succession of wild throws all over the infield so the Giants could amuse themselves by forcing Faust to slide into every base. McGraw told him to come back tomorrow.
July 31, 1911: Faust appeared at the station as the Giants were ready to board a train to Pittsburgh, believing he was on the team. McGraw told him his train ticket was at the hotel, but if he’d run and get it, he’d hold the train for him. Faust set out toward the hotel like lightning. The train left without him. But it would be over a year before the Giants were rid of the pest.
July 31, 1905: The name of Giants trainer Harry Tuthill last graced this column in March, when we reported that McGraw fired him in 1906 for shooting his assistant in the leg during an argument. Before that, however, Tuthill, who also trained the boxer Young Corbett, was an esteemed source of knowledge about matters of health. On this date, with the Giants in Cincinnati, he told the wire services that ballplayers drink too much water. “Ballplayers are the only athletes who drink water to their stomach’s content at all times,” he said. “Coming in from the field or a trip around the bases, a player dashes madly to the water barrel and fills up on three or four mugs of ice-cold Ohio river dope. They claim they sweat it out in the hot sun, and I suppose they do, but they certainly would feel better if they cut out some of it.” With theories like that, Tuthill could never work as a trainer in organized baseball today, but he’d be plenty qualified to serve as Secretary of Health and Human Services.
Royals Win Protest
July 28, 1983: Continuing from where we left off last week, AL president Lee MacPhail ruled in favor of the Kansas City Royals, reversing the umpires’ decision, and reinstated George Brett’s home run four days earlier at Yankee Stadium. The umpires had disallowed Brett’s two-run blast when the Yankees protested that he used a bat with more pine tar than the legal limit. The next time the Royals visit the Yankees, the game will resume with the Royals ahead, 5-4, and two outs in the top of the ninth inning. In his statement, MacPhail said that while the umpires’ ruling was “technically defensible,” it was “not in accord with the spirit or intent of the rule” because pine tar doesn’t give the batter an unfair advantage. As might be expected, the ruling angered the Yankees while the Royals rejoiced. MacPhail further stated that the Yankees had no right to appeal. Yankees general manager Murray Cook said, “I don’t think there’s anything in the rules that provides for legal action.” Maybe the Yanks should have gone on The People’s Court.
I Can See Clearly Now
July 29, 1950: Before the game at Cleveland Stadium, Boston Red Sox manager Steve O’Neill stepped to home plate to receive a gift from two anonymous Cleveland fans. Thus began a scenario so absurd that it defies all rational belief that the home team would arrange this brief ceremony without taking the trouble to learn the contents of the gift box. After making a heartfelt speech thanking the fans, O’Neill opened the package to find a pair of binoculars, a jocular reference to O’Neill’s complaining the previous evening that the home team stationed somebody with binoculars in the scoreboard, for the purpose of tipping pitches. The “ceremony” would trigger a wire from AL president Will Harridge to Ellis Ryan, president of the Cleveland club, asking for an explanation of O’Neill’s “humiliation” and prompting a letter of apology from Ryan to the rival manager. “The affair isn’t ended,” O’Neill told United Press. “I’ll find out who did it and slap him down. I don’t care who it is. . . I acted in good faith toward the people of Cleveland when I went to home plate to accept it.” Ryan said he knew the identities of the donors and that they’d be “severely reprimanded.” He should have reprimanded himself for allowing such a farce to take place.
Three for Tillman
July 30, 1969: At Connie Mack Stadium, Braves catcher Bob Tillman hit home runs in three consecutive plate appearances to lead the Braves to a 6-3 victory over the Philadelphia Phillies in the first game of a doubleheader. All three blasts came against Phillies starter Grant Jackson. Tillman’s career day took a back seat in the press to Henry Aaron, who also homered off Jackson. Aaron’s round-tripper was his 537th of his career, passing Mickey Mantle, who retired after the 1968 season, and placing him third on the all-time list behind Babe Ruth and Willie Mays.
Mets Aren’t Crowing About This One
July 30, 2021: Mets fans probably thought they could never see their favorite team make a trade worse than the one that sent future Hall of Fame pitcher Nolan Ryan for washed-up infielder Jim Fregosi in 1971. On this date, they traded their No. 1 draft pick of the previous season, Pete Crow-Armstrong, to the Cubs. In exchange, they got Javier Báez for 47 games, pitcher Trevor Williams, and a third-place finish in the NL East Division. Ouch!
Orange Juice, Anyone?
July 31, 1957: When Pittsburgh Pirates manager Bobby Bragan was ejected from a game in Milwaukee’s County Stadium, it set off one of the funniest moments in baseball, although neither the umpires nor NL president Warren Giles were amused. It all began in the bottom of the fifth inning, when Braves pitcher Bob Buhl scampered from first to third on a double by Red Schoendienst. Pittsburgh shortstop Dick Groat thought Buhl missed second base. When the Pirates appealed the play, second base umpire Stan Landes called him safe. Landes then turned to the Pirates dugout in what Bragan thought was a confrontational manner. So Bragan held his nose and was immediately ejected by Landes.
Bragan told me in a 1998 letter that he’d had trouble with the umpiring crew of Landes, Frank Dascoli, Frank Secory, and Bill Baker all season long, that they ejected him four times and were the only crew that ejected him. This time, he’d already ordered a hot dog and a carton of orange juice from a vendor. After speaking his piece with Landes, he returned to the dugout and was given his carton of juice. He re-entered the field, opened the carton, and began drinking through a straw as the bewildered crowd booed. The umpires immediately converged upon him. “I got the orange juice and offered it to the umpires and explained to them that they were the only crew who ejected me all four ball games,” Bragan wrote to me. UP ran a comical photo of Bragan drinking through the straw as the umpires looked on. Bragan eventually left the field. The Pirates lost, 4-2.
Giles fired off a sternly worded telegram, fining Bragan $100, threatening him with indefinite suspension for future offenses, and saying in part, “Your repeated farcical acts on the field indicate it is not your nature to take the game seriously. We and others consider it a serious business and to be conducted as such.” Bragan told Lester J. Biederman of The Pittsburgh Press, “My only regret is that the hot dog didn’t arrive on time.” Pirates GM Joe L. Brown fired Bragan the next day. The Braves must have had a better sense of humor than the umpires, Giles, and Brown. They hired Bragan as their manager in 1963.
Just Call Him Speedy
July 31, 1972: His nickname back home in Wampum, Pennsylvania was “Sleepy,” but there was nothing sleepy about his performance on this day. Rejuvenated as a member of the White Sox, the previously maligned Dick Allen drove in five runs with two inside-the-park home runs while leading his team to an 8-1 victory over the Minnesota Twins at Metropolitan Stadium. The first was a line drive that got by center fielder Bobby Darwin after he slipped and fell. The second was a towering drive to left-center that eluded Darwin’s attempt at a back-handed catch. Allen was an introvert who didn’t like speaking to the media, but his loquacious manager, Chuck Tanner, was always all too happy to speak for him. “I believe Dick Allen is the best player in the major leagues. . . He’s my Swiss watch,” Tanner told UPI after the game.
On this date in 1972, Dick Allen of the Chicago White Sox hit 2 inside-the-park HRs in the same game in a road contest against the Minnesota Twins.
Allen drove in 5 runs on the day in an 8-1 White Sox victory. pic.twitter.com/jPUlV0muZH
— ESPN Insights (@ESPNInsights) July 31, 2020
August 1, 1966: Those weren’t Allen’s first inside-the-park homers. On this date, as a member of the Phillies, he hit one in the bottom of the 10th inning at Connie Mack Stadium to defeat the Houston Astros, 6-5. The Astros had tied the game in the ninth on Aspromonte’s three-run homer. Allen led off the 10th with a long drive to the center field fence. Astros center fielder Jim Wynn gave chase, crashed into the wall, and lay on the ground with a dislocated elbow and wrist as Allen rounded the bases. Wynn was expected to be out for the season. Baseball can be cruel sometimes.
The One, The Only
August 1, 1972: The expansionist San Diego Padres struggled in their early years and gave their fans little to cheer about. They had a shortstop, Enzo Hernandez, who drove in just 12 runs one season in 549 at-bats. They also had franchise icon Nate Colbert, a slugging, right-handed-hitting first baseman who was often the team’s only bright spot. The public address announcer in San Diego would announce him as “the one, the only, Nate Colbert!” On this day at Atlanta Stadium, Colbert went 7-for-9, with five home runs and 13 RBI during a doubleheader sweep of the Braves by scores of 9-0 and 11-7. He was an equal-opportunity slugger, with each homer coming off a different pitcher. He entered the game with an uncharacteristic .233 batting average. “I hadn’t been hitting too well,” he told UPI. “But I knew I would come back. I figured somebody’s going to pay over the second half of the season.” Colbert ended the evening leading the majors with 30 home runs and 82 RBI.
Sign at the Bottom, Please (or: Moon Over 35th Street)
August 1, 1979: Would your friendly correspondent stoop so low as to resort to sleaze and cheap humor just to pick up a few clicks? You bet I would! So, we end this week’s time travel by going back to a night when the Yankees boarded their bus after a game in Chicago and invited with them a special guest – a young woman described as “blond, in her 20s and pretty,” who dropped her jeans so that the players could autograph her bare derriere. It seems she’d been flirting with the players during their entire stay in Chicago. When she got off the bus, manager Billy Martin reportedly followed behind and asked her, “Can I take your picture?” (Of course it had to be the overrated Martin, who got himself into stupid jams that no other manager would ever go near. At least Bragan was funny.) “Sure,” she replied, and dropped her pants and shook her money-maker while standing in the middle of 35th Street. Yankees publicity director Mickey Morabito witnessed the incident and said it was a professional photographer who took the photo. After all, for momentous occasions such as this, it’s always good to have the photo taken professionally. This raises the question: What kind of publicity director doesn’t think to stop this? Did he expect it would lead to good publicity? A nearby security guard didn’t have any more interest in stopping the proceedings than Morabito and simply watched the whole affair, which would never have made the papers if not for one Rosemary Glynn of Orland Park, Illinois.
You see, Glynn was waiting outside with her nine-year-old autograph-seeking son, who witnessed the signing ceremony and picture-taking. She gave the story to Mike Royko of the Chicago Sun-Times. “I couldn’t believe it,” Glynn said. “They wouldn’t give autographs to any of the kids, but they were signing their names to that girl’s bare butt.” Yankees principal owner George Steinbrenner and commissioner Bowie Kuhn said they would get to the bottom of how the Yankees got to this girl’s bottom. Meanwhile, how did she ever preserve the autographs? That was a problem that was behind her as soon as it happened. I’ll show myself out now.
