Well, Jim Bouton passed away last week, last Wednesday.
He had a good full life, and made the world a funner place to be.
Good game, bulldog.
Well, I’ll tell you.
How’s about getting into the archives at the library of congress? Yes. Better than the “so-called Hall of Fame,” as some might say.
And who’s JUST entered the hallowed halls of the Great Library?
It’s the bulldog, Jim Bouton. I received notice today that Jim’s personal papers — all 37,000 items! — have been acquired by the Library of Congress.
Faithful readers know that Jim is a personal favorite (and isn’t it time for me to re-read Ball Four for the umpteenth time?) and a helluva ball player and a great pitcher and a world-class human being. (Not to say he’s perfect. But he’s 110% human being.) His sense of humor and perspective on the game, and the game of life, resonates with me.
Faithful readers also know that Jim has been dealing with health issues lately. We wish him the best.
Today inaugurates the Jim Bouton category on this blog. Congratulations, Jim. You’re the only player so honored.
And now, I think…. now it’s time to pound some Budweiser.
Babe Ruth and the 1918 Red Sox looks to be a self-published book by Allen Wood, through iUniverse Star, in 2000. The book provides a well-researched and entertaining account of the 1918 baseball season, with a focus on Babe Ruth’s penultimate season with the Red Sox.
One of the reasons I picked this up was that it follows a club through a season a long long time ago, in the same way I have been following the 1904 Millers, (reportedly,) and I wanted to see how this writer approached it. Of course I also picked it up because of Babe Ruth, who was such a stand-out character, and the book looks at a particularly interesting time in his career. And, plus, it was only $3 on the discount shelf at Half-Price Books. So how could I go wrong? I could not, and I did not.
Anyone with an interest in baseball history would enjoy this book and probably also learn a thing or two. The author has used multiple sources and interviews to piece together a nice snapshot of the game in 1918. The U.S. had entered the First World War in April of 1917, and so by 1918 a lot of players were in the army or joining the army, and there was some discussion about canceling baseball for the duration. There were a lot of people who looked down on ballplayers for not being in the army, and that, along with so many men being in the military, led to a steep drop in attendance. Players also were dropping-out throughout the season, either being drafted into the military, or volunteering, or leaving to join some war-related industry, often steel-mills and shipyards, it seems, where they could work and also (and mostly) play ball on the company baseball teams while at the same time avoiding the draft. Owners and managers were constantly juggling their rosters throughout the season, looking for older players in the minors who could come up to the big time.
(By the way, there’s a nice piece on the Delaware River Shipbuilding League 1918 on the SABR website.)
Still, the game continued, and Babe Ruth was simply the biggest star in the game. I don’t know what made the Babe so good, how that happened. It’s really pretty inexplicable, and kind of magical, how his game was at such a higher level than everyone else’s. 1918 was the season where Babe transitioned from pitcher to outfielder, and he juggled the two roles with difficulty throughout the season, at one point even going awol because he wasn’t playing in the field as much as he wanted. In 1917 he pitched in 41 games, starting 38, and ending up 24-13, with a 2.01 ERA, while in 1918 he only pitched in 20 games, starting 19, and went 13-7 with a 2.22 ERA. Meanwhile his at-bats went up from 123 to 317, and he hit 11 home runs and drove in 61, as compared to 2 home runs and 14 rbis in 1917. Several times during the season he made mention of having a sore arm, and I wonder if that might not have been true. But he went back and forth about that, and so he wasn’t exactly a trustworthy source of information. And he loved hitting the ball, and so maybe the “sore arm” was only an attempt to get more time in the field.
It had to have been an odd experience, being Babe Ruth; coming from a poor background, the rough side of town, then raised by the catholic brothers at the boys school, and so much more talented, at every level, than the players around him. Hard to think of a comparison. He was like the Shakespeare of baseball, the Beethoven, the Beatles, the Picasso. How can experiences like that be understood? Maybe the Beatles come closest, in terms of general public popularity and also financial success. I don’t think Picasso was ever particularly popular with the masses. Shakespeare, maybe. Who else is has had that experience? How would it change you, if it happened to you?
I don’t get the sense that it changed Babe Ruth much. There’s a lot of references in this book, and others, to Ruth’s immaturity and appetites. Perhaps that was magnified by his immense talent and easy money. Ruth had a difficult and deprived childhood, and then, in a few short years, he had everything, money, success, fame. He was free to indulge for the first time in his life, and at that age there’s quite a lot to indulge in. Beethoven was probably the same way. I imagine there’s a lot of stories about young Beethoven, enjoying the fruits of his labor. Shakespeare too, I suppose. Einstein? Well, anyway. Babe Ruth for sure.
The 1918 season was, frankly, a somewhat bizarre season. With the war going on, the owners cut the season down to 140 games, and with players coming and going, team fortunes rose and fell with player availability. Attendance was dropping, and there were continuing questions as to whether the season should be cancelled or finished early. At that time the game was run by the National Commission, made up of three club owners. These are guys who probably would do well today in Trumpmerica. The players had no power and no say in things, and when the owners changed the pay structure for the World Series, they didn’t really bother to ask or explain this to the players. The championship money that formerly went to the players was to be divided up among the top four clubs in each league, which, coupled with the large drop in attendance, led to a lot less money for the players in the Series. And this led to both the Red Sox and Cubs nearly walking out of the Series in an effort to get a fairer deal and more money. In the war climate, with injured vets sitting in the stands, it was a tough stand to take. Maybe too tough.
This was a particularly interesting part of the book. A World Series walk-out seemed imminent. There were player-commission and player-owner meetings that went nowhere, and it seemed like the Series would be over. And then, suddenly, the players agreed to play, without obviously winning any concessions other than vague promises. The turnaround by the players is surprising, and the author considers the possibility that the gambling interests in play at the time had something to do with it. Was some under-the-table money changing hands, some subterfuge, some dark money? Gambling would seem to be a quick solution to the players’ money problem, and gambling on ball games was rife back then, culminating, of course, with the 1919 Black Sox scandal. The author explores the history of some of the players who were shown later to be involved in gambling. There is one definite clue that the series was fixed — a scrap of paper from an individual who may have been in a position to know — but no firm conclusions can be drawn, and there’s nothing obvious in the games to raise suspicions. I suppose that it’s possible, with all the money riding on the games, that it’s also possible that the players were coerced or threatened into playing by gambling interests. But again, no one knows.
Another possibility is that the players realized that they had no leverage, and that walking out of the series would have long term implications for their careers. Maybe they just thought that there’s a war on, and that now is not a good time to be complaining about money. The author’s research does not come up with any answers to this riddle. But the games go on, and the Red Sox win their championship. The Babe pitches in the Series, and sets a record for consecutive scoreless innings in the series. He goes 2-0, while hitting only .200 with no home runs. The Red Sox take the series 4 games to 2, with a lot of good pitching and tight games in the series.
All in all, this was an enjoyable read, and a nice window into baseball of 100 years ago. Everything has changed in 100 years. We all get around with our jet-packs now, instead of automobiles, and world government has made war and jingoistic patriotism a thing of the far distant past. And yet, a home run is still a home run, a game is still 9 innings, and there won’t ever be another guy like Babe Ruth.
Good game, Allen Wood. Nice job with this book.
There was something of a build-up to yesterday’s Twins – Rays game. A little bit of small-market buzz. Two of the hottest clubs in baseball, facing off. Yankees – Red Sox? Forget ’em! The Twins are playing the Rays! Hang onto your hats, sportsfans, this is going to be good!
Instead, the Twins were mercilessly pounded by the Rays, 14-3. Which brings to mind a couple of famous sayings, one by Catfish Hunter, “The sun don’t shine on the same dog’s ass every day,” and one by Joe Schultz, famous manager of the Seattle Pilots, which readers of Ball Four will likely recall.
Martin Perez started, and he gave up 6 (runs) in two and two thirds. 6-0. Zack Littell came in, and gave up 8 (runs) in four and a third. Just one of those games, I guess. Even the best team in baseball is going to lose a lot of games during the course of the long season. This was one of those. Goodbye. Game over. Round two tonight.
On a brighter note, I also finished reading my latest baseball book last night. But before I can talk about that, I need to talk about this one, that I read last year, and never got on the blog. Odd, that, because it was really a really good book. But I remember it got buried on the book stack on the desk, and then later it was moved back into the baseball library, and was just plain forgotten. Until now.
I was never much of a Keith Hernandez fan. Probably mostly because he was over there in the senior circuit, and I just didn’t see much of him. Plus, -10 points for being a Cardinal at one point in his career.
But I always new that he was a good ball player. Excellent fielder, excellent hitter. Maybe not a big threat to steal. But big deal. I’d have him on my club.
I noted a reference to Hernandez baseball smarts somewhere. Perhaps it was in the book I read with all the World Series stories. Anyway, it made me curious, and so I picked up a copy of Pure Baseball. And I learned a lot from Mr. Hernandez about the game. Turns out, I wasn’t such an advanced fan after all. There was (is) a lot I don’t know about the game. I suspected that was the case. As my friend Ghost once told me, “It’s a goddamn chess match out there!”
Reading this book is a lot like sitting in your man-cave, in your man-chair, having a few man-beers and watching baseball on your man-TV with Hernandez sitting next to you and with him explaining everything that’s happening. Except that would be pretty annoying, sitting with Mr. Know-it-all, listening to him pontificate on every play. So reading this book is actually better than having him there in person. And, in the book, he is actually sitting in his palatial NY penthouse apartment, watching baseball on his huge projection TV, and analyzing what’s going on. He watches two games, one in each league, and he covers them inning by inning, sometimes pitch by pitch, when it matters. And he’s got a lot of good stories and insights that he shares with you, and he’s annoying hardly at all.
For example, I learned about the intricacies of deciding who covers second base when you think a runner might go. If you’ve got a left-handed batter up and a guy on first, but the batter often takes the ball to left field, would it be smart to have the second baseman move to cover second? It’s a bit risky, Hernandez says – with the first baseman holding the runner and the second baseman moving to cover, it leaves a big hole on the right side of the field.
Hernandez, it turns out, was a student of the game, always watching and learning. Some players struggle with the game, the pitching part or the hitting part, and they need to focus on the inner game, the strategy and smarts, in order to keep up and stay in the show. I guess Hernandez was one of those other guys, though. He didn’t need to worry quite so much about the hitting and fielding, and was just naturally curious and attentive. He was so game-smart that his managers would sometimes let him set the defense when he was out there on the field.
Readers who are not serious baseball fans may possibly be bored (and annoyed) by this book. Maybe you’d rather not see baseball as a kind of chess match. Maybe you hate chess. Maybe you are writing a book that explains baseball as sort of like a game of checkers.
The serious baseball fan, though, the curious and attentive student of the game, is probably going to learn a few things from this book. And will probably end up thinking better of Keith Hernandez for having written it. Even if he did have to play for the Cardinals for awhile. He was really mostly a Met.
Good game, Keith.
36 wins, 16 losses.
20 games over .500.
When was the last time the Twins were 20 games over .500?
Well, I can’t say for sure, but looking back at the Twins records over the years, I notice that in 2010 the Twins finished the season at 94-68, 26 games over. And they were 92-60 on September 22nd. 32 games over. So. Not so very long ago, really, in baseball time. Just nine years ago. That was the season when Morneau was hitting .345, with 18 HR and 56 RBIs and then he got the concussion on July 7th that changed his life. Damn. That was the season when Delmon Young hit .298 with 21 hr and 112 rbi. Orlando Hundson played second base, seriously, hit .268 with 133 hits. Who remembers Orlando Hudson? Anybody? Buhler?
Anyway, Joe Mauer hit .327 (pre-concussion days as well,) JJ Hardy played shortstop, Jason Kubel was in the outfield, Danny Valencia was at third, and Cuddyer was at first (post-Morneau). Pavano won 17 games, Liriano 14, Kevin Slowey, 13. Brian Duensing won 10 in relief. Scott Baker won a dozen. Jon Rauch was our closer, got 21 saves. Wow, this seems like ancient history, and it’s just nine seasons ago. Matt Capps also had 16 saves that year. Matt Capps! I think Rauch must have got hurt, there.
Then, in 2011 the Twins turned it around and went 63-99. Morneau hit .227, and probably shouldn’t have been out there playing. Nishioka hit .226 at shortstop, till he got hurt. Yes, Nishioka, that was his season in the sun. Drew Butera played 93 games at catcher and hit .167. Yes, that’s right. Not a typo. .167. Butera was really known more for his defense than his bat. I guess Mauer must have got hurt. Concussion? Mauer played 82 games and hit .287. Delmon Young, .266, 4 hr. Jim Thome came on board and hit a dozen. Cuddyer hit .284 with 20 hr and 71 rbi. Chris Parmalee came up for a cup of coffee and hit .355 in 76 at bats. Pavano, 9-13, Duensing 9-14, Liriano, 9-10. Capps went 4-7, with 15 saves. Well, need I go on? 2011 was not a good season. And following on the heels of 2010, it was particularly brutal. And the sudden demise of Morneau and Mauer, that was just brutal. Ouch.
It’s remarkable, really, how quickly things can go south.
2010: scored 781, allowed 671
2011: scored 619, allowed 804
2019, so far: scored 315, allowed 204.
That’s correct, folks. It’s still May, and the Twins have scored 315 runs.
It’s been a pretty good month.
Good enough, in fact, for the Twins to capture the number 4 spot on the MLB power rankings. Yes. That’s right. Number 4. That’s how good we are right now, according to the MLB power rankings. Right behind the Astros, the Dodgers, and the Yankees.
Number 4 is ours. All ours. We are 4th!
In fact, I’ll say it.
A bad cup of coffee.
Mike Palagyi was 21 years old when came up with the Senators for his shot at the majors on 18 August 1939. He had a bit of a rough outing. But I’m sure it wasn’t helped by the fact that three of the four batters he faced were future Hall-of-Famers: Jimmy Foxx, Ted Williams, and Joe Cronin. Probably most rookies would have been a bit intimidated by that, and Mike was a little wild that day.
He came into the game for the top of the 9th inning, with the Senators down 3-1 against the Red Sox. He walked Doc Cramer, to lead off the inning, and then hit Foxx. I’m sure Foxx let him hear about it. He then walked Williams, to load the bases, and then walked Cronin to force in a run. At that point, the manager made the walk to the mound and pulled him. And that was it for Mike. Fifteen pitches. Two strikes. And his career ERA is infinite, as he did not get an out. Wikipedia says he is one of 19 players with a career infinite ERA. Nice to have company in that regard, I guess. I suspect he is the only one of the lot that found three Hall-of-Famers in his cup of coffee. Ouch. Bad enough just having to pitch to Ted Williams. “It was a real nightmare,” Mike said later.
I’m not entirely clear why the Senators called Mike up. He was playing B level ball for Cleveland at Spartenburg in the Sally league that season. Baseball Reference.com says he went 7-6, with a 4.07 ERA. It looks like the Senators acquired his contract and brought him up immediately to see what he looked like. The Senators finished the season with a 67-85 record, 6th place. It seems like they might have been able to run Palagyi out there another time, given him another opportunity, without hurting their chances a lot.
But they didn’t.
Mike played for Greenville in the Sally League the next season, 1940, for Washington, and went 13-15 with a 5.14 ERA. After that Mike was in the military, and after that I see that he played again in 1946 for Montgomery, 2 innings. But his arm “just didn’t have it,” and Mike left organized ball.
And after that? Mike returned to Ohio, where he worked as a plumber and maintenance man until he retired in 1982. He passed away 21 November 2013, age 96.
Good game, Mike.
The Twins are playing pretty good ball right now, having taken 3 out of 4 from the Astros at home this week. Some very nicely played games. Cold weather games. Like we might have in, say, September. Or October. After a nicely played series like that, it’s tempting to go all hubris and start clamoring for playoff tickets.
But. Hold. On.
Taking a look at some team stats on the MLB website, I see that the Twins are first in the Junior Circuit in OPS (.822; Houston is at .804) and 4th in Runs Scored (155 in 29 games; Texas has 171 in 29 games, while NY has 158 in 30 games, and Seattle 189 in 33 games.) Yes, the boys are getting it done at the plate. Second in Homers, with 52 to Seattle’s 60.
On the pitching side, though, there are cautionary notes. The boys are 7th in the league in ERA, at 4.20. Tampa Bay leads with 3.07. They are also 7th in WHIP (1.31) and 8th in opposition batting average (.250). And so their pitching, so far, is not, not, not what you might call, say… stellar. No. It’s average. It may be good enough. If they keep pounding the ball. And they’ve had some good pitching this year and frankly I’m a little bit surprised to find their ERA at 4.20. When did that happen? Perhaps there’s a math error in there somewhere.
So they are looking good now, after a good series against the Astros. But tonight we’re in New York. Yea, we walk into the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Let’s hope we can knock the ball around a bit against the much-hated Yanquis.
At this point in time, 6:53 CST: Yanquis 1, Twins 0. Kyle Gibson trying to turn the tide.
On the other hand…
Boy, haven’t the Twins been playing good ball? Maybe this is their year! Berrios has been great, Odorizzi just a little less great. Polanco and Garver and Rosario and Cruz and and and everybody, just everybody, playing real fine ball right now. Let’s take it to New York and show them a thing or two. Let’s rock the Bronx with some Minnesota muscle.
For a change. Can we?