With that swing of the bat, along with the 714 that preceded it, Hank Aaron not only passed Babe Ruth as major-league baseball’s home run leader. He also made a giant leap in the integration of the game and the nation. Aaron, an African American, had broken a record set by the immortal Ruth, and not just any record, but the all-time major-league home run record, and in doing so moved the game and the nation forward on the journey started by Jackie Robinson in 1947. By 1974 Aaron’s baseball career was within three years of sunset, but the road he’d traveled to arrive at that spring evening in Atlanta had hardened and tempered him, perhaps irrevocably, in ways that only suffering can produce. Aaron finally shrugged off the twin burdens of expectation and fear that evening, and few have ever stood taller.

Henry Louis Aaron was born February 5, 1934, in Mobile Alabama, to Herbert and Estella (Pritchett) Aaron.1 Among Henry’s seven siblings was a brother, Tommie, who later played in parts of seven different seasons in the major leagues. For whatever such records are worth, the brothers still hold the record for most career home runs by a pair of siblings, 768, with the elder Henry contributing 755 to Tommie’s 13. They were also the first siblings to appear in a League Championship Series as teammates.

Henry was born in a poorer neighborhood of Mobile called “Down the Bay,” but he spent most of his formative years in the nearby district of Toulminville. Aaron’s father worked at a local shipyard performing manual labor.2 The Aaron family lived on the edge of poverty, in part due to the general economic conditions of the Great Depression, so every member of the family worked to contribute. Young Henry picked potatoes and tended the Aaron garden, and also worked for an ice-delivery truck, among other odd jobs, and while his parents could not afford proper baseball equipment for recreation, Aaron still practiced in endless sandlot games by hitting bottle caps with ordinary broom handles and sticks.3

One of the consequences of this self-coaching was that he developed a cross-handed batting style, a habit he kept until his early days as a professional. In fact, it was not until he was in spring training with the then-Jacksonville Braves that coach Ben Geraghty convinced him to switch hands in his grip. “He came in and was unorthodox as a hitter; he hit cross-handed,” minor league teammate Johnny Goryl said during a 2011 interview. “He went to Jacksonville to play for a Ben Geraghty who got him to hit more conventionally without the cross-handed grip. That’s when his power started surfacing, and the rest was all history.”4 But in high school, Aaron was a gifted athlete and starred in both football and baseball at Central High School for two years. On the diamond he played shortstop, third base, and some outfield on a team that won the Mobile Negro High School Championship during his freshman and sophomore years.  

In 1949, the 15-year-old, 140-pound Aaron – inspired by the exploits of Jackie Robinson, whom he’d seen on several exhibition passes through Alabama –tried out with the Brooklyn Dodgers but did not earn a contract offer, likely due to his unorthodox batting grip. Now a high school junior, he transferred to the private Josephine Allen Institute for his final two years of education. The Allen Institute had been founded by Clarence and Josephine Allen in 1895. The Allens were unusually accomplished, educated, and wealthy for Black Americans in that time and place, and their school provided critical education for many children who would have otherwise been denied due to race.

Aaron had been playing for the semipro Pritchett Athletics since age 14, and during those games, and in some of his softball contests, he drew the attention of scout Ed Scott, who convinced Henry and his mother that it would be a good move to sign with the Mobile Black Bears, a semipro team, for $3 a game.5 Estella granted her son permission to play, but only on the condition that he did not travel, thus limiting him to local games.  

On November 20, 1951, despite his mother’s concerns about his not continuing on to college, Henry signed for $200 a month with the Negro American League champion Indianapolis Clowns. Scout Bunny Downs had discovered Aaron playing with the Black Bears during an earlier exhibition, and Aaron flourished with Indianapolis, helping guide the team to the 1952 Negro League World Series crown. In 26 games, he posted a .366 batting average, hit five home runs, and stole nine bases. The series, and the season, allowed Aaron to showcase his range of skills not just for regional scouts, but for several major-league organizations as well.

Following the championship, two telegrams reached Henry – one with an offer from the New York Giants, and a second with an offer from the Boston Braves. Aaron chose the latter, evidently because of a $50-a-month difference in salary, and Boston immediately purchased his contract from Indianapolis.6 On June 14, 1952, Aaron signed with Braves scout Dewey Griggs, and reported to the Class-C Eau Claire (Wisconsin) Bears. Despite playing in only 87 games, Aaron batted .336 with 9 homers, 19 doubles, and 61 RBIs, earned a spot on the league’s All-Star squad, and was selected as the Northern League’s Rookie of the Year. As impressive as his on-field performance was, though, it may have even been exceeded by his calm mien both on and off the diamond. The teenager’s demeanor seemed impenetrable to the occasional bigots in the stands, and the clear absence of racial incidents that season proved his maturity in a way that could not be measured by simple interviews. Aaron not only showed the Braves that he was a wonderful prospect on the field, but also that he could handle the inevitable racism with detachment.

The next season found him and Black teammates Horace Garner and Felix Mantilla on the Jacksonville Braves (South Atlantic League). Given Mantilla’s superior ability at shortstop, Aaron moved to second base for the season.7 Along with two other players from the Savannah (Georgia) Indians, Fleming “Buddy” Reedy and Elbert Willis “Al” Isreal, the quintet broke the color line in the South Atlantic or Sally League (or SAL), playing in the heart of old Dixie without the top-cover of a sympathetic national press.8 Aaron, playing second base, almost single-handedly forced the Jacksonville fans to accept him, regardless of race, by leading the entire league with a batting average of .362, and also being the top producer with 115 runs, 208 hits, 36 doubles, 338 total bases, and 135 runs batted in (RBI) title. To cap the first integrated season in SAL history, Aaron led Jacksonville to the title and was named the league’s Most Valuable Player.9 Because many parts of the South were still governed by Jim Crow laws, circumstances that forced the Black players to live in separate accommodations and dining on the road, one pundit wrote, “Henry Aaron led the league in everything except hotel accommodations.”10

That year Henry also met a young woman named Barbara Lucas.11 On a lark, she had decided to attend a Jacksonville game one night early in the season, and watched Aaron single, double, and homer. On October 6, 1953, Aaron, not yet 20, and Lucas were married and within a year welcomed their first child, a daughter they named Gaile.

Aaron spent part of the offseason playing winter ball in Puerto Rico, learning to play the outfield and working with coach Mickey Owen on his batting stance, refining his new swing after switching his grip months earlier. On March 11, 1954, in spring training, Henry was penciled into the Braves’ starting lineup as leadoff hitter and right fielder. He homered and singled. Two days later, on March 13, Milwaukee’s left fielder Bobby Thomson severely fractured his right ankle sliding into second base. In the ensuing lineup shuffle, Aaron took his spot as a regular outfielder. The young slugger made the most of his chance.12

The Braves purchased Aaron’s minor-league contract just as spring training ended. On Tuesday afternoon, April 13, 1954, Aaron made his major-league debut in the season opener at Cincinnati, playing left field and batting fifth. Two days later, on April 15, he doubled in the first inning off Cardinals pitcher Vic Raschi for his first major-league hit, and a week later in St. Louis, on April 23, he victimized Raschi again, this time for his first home run. Aaron fractured his left ankle sliding into third base on September 5, ending his season with what would be the only significant injury of his career. Still, in his first 122 big-league games, he batted .280, homered 13 times, and finished fourth in the voting for Rookie of the Year. In 1955 Aaron was moved to right field, and there his league-leading 37 doubles, .314 batting average, and .540 slugging percentage helped him earn the first of 21 consecutive All-Star team slots en route to finishing ninth in NL MVP balloting.

During the early days of his career, Milwaukee’s public relations director Don Davidson began referring to Aaron as “Hank,” not “Henry” as he was known by those close to him, to make the quiet player appear a bit more accessible.

In 1956 Aaron hit .328 to win the first of his two NL batting titles, led the league in doubles (34) and hits (200), and was named The Sporting News NL Player of the Year. He would lead the league four times in doubles and twice in hits. It proved to be mere foreshadowing for the following year.

Aaron’s 1957 baseball season began under less-than-ideal circumstances when he missed his train in Mobile and reported one day late to spring training in Bradenton, Florida. Because he had signed a new contract during the offseason, one that raised his salary to $22,500 for the coming campaign, Aaron’s conspicuous tardiness drew the attention of national papers like The Sporting News, as well as the Milwaukee press. The other potential omen came with the distribution of his Topps baseball card. It was printed as a photographic reverse, with Hank appearing to bat left-handed. On closer inspection, his uniform number “44” is reversed, and clearly underscores the mistake, but the Topps corporate leadership chose not to correct the error and reprint the card.

Regardless of what the baseball card showed, Aaron was not affected on the field. Over that March in Florida he batted .390 with 11 home runs, despite missing seven games due to a sprained ankle. Manager Fred Haney, in the March 27 edition of The Sporting News, was quoted: “He [Aaron] hasn’t reached his potential yet. I expect him to do better this year. That’s how we’ve got to improve to win the flag.” Aaron tinkered with his approach in the batter’s box, switching from a 36-ounce bat to a 34-ounce model, and he opened the 1957 season by batting safely, and scoring, in the Braves’ first seven games.

The public praise rolled in during those early weeks. On April 24 Sporting News writer Dick Young noted that Dodgers coach Billy Herman “rates Hank Aaron over Willie Mays as a hitter – and over everyone in the N. L. for my money.”13 The following week, in the same magazine, Bob Wolf wrote: “Whether or not he wins the triple crown, or even two-thirds of it, Aaron certainly must be considered the favorite in the batting derby … and while Aaron isn’t high on his chances of leading the league in homers or runs batted in, he agrees that he should repeat as batting king.”14 After 25 games,  Aaron was hitting at a .369 clip and had committed no errors in the field.

Stan Musial, however, was not as impressed as the reporters who followed the team. In a June 26 Sporting News article by Cleon Walfoort, Musial left no room for doubt, stating, “[Aaron] thinks there’s nothing he can’t hit. He’ll have to learn there are some pitches no hitter can afford to go for. He still has something to learn about the strike zone.” His reference to Aaron as an “arrogant hitter” drew a response, cited in the same article, from Pittsburgh manager Bobby Bragan. “Sure, Aaron’s a bad-ball hitter and he always will be, but it would be a bad mistake to try to change him.”15

Given the late arrival to spring training, Musial’s comments, and a general undertone in the wider reporting on Aaron and what was occasionally dismissed as a lack of effort, Haney again came to his slugger’s defense. “That loping gait of Hank Aaron’s is deceptive. You’d almost get the impression he wasn’t hustling at times, but he’d be about the last player you could accuse that of. He just runs as fast as he has to, and you’ll notice he always seems to get to a fly ball or a base in time when there’s any chance of making it.”16

Normally such an offensive outburst would result in a nearly automatic selection to the NL All-Star team, but according to a retrospective article from ESPN, a huge glut of votes from Cincinnati elected Reds to eight National League starting positions. “The lineup was so stacked, in fact, that Commissioner Ford Frick felt he had to intervene, so he replaced outfielders Gus Bell and Wally Post with two guys named Willie Mays and Hank Aaron.”17

The All-Star Game was little more than a brief respite in Aaron’s terrific season. On July 5 he surpassed his 1956 season home run total when he hit number 27 off the Cubs’ Don Elston, which, by mid-month, prompted The Sporting News’ Bob Wolf to begin touting the hitter’s chances for the Triple Crown. Despite his preseason protestation that he did not see himself as a power hitter, after 77 games he was on pace to tie Babe Ruth’s single-season home run record, and on August 15 he smacked career homer number 100. One week later he drove in his 100th run of the season. All the numbers, though, paled in comparison to a single swing of the bat the following month.

On September 23, in the bottom of the 11th inning facing St Louis, Aaron stroked a breaking ball over the fence at County Stadium. The two-run shot was the only homer that Cardinals pitcher Billy Muffett surrendered all year, but the walk-off win clinched the NL pennant for the Braves. Aaron was carried off the field that night by his jubilant teammates, and he always remembered that hit, that game, and that night as one of the greatest moments of his career.

In a February 26, 2012, Milwaukee Journal Sentinel retrospective, baseball commissioner Bud Selig was quoted: “Henry Aaron in ’57 was, well, he was a player for the ages. I have never seen a hitter like him. Forget our relationship. I’m telling you in the ’50s, when you watched Hank Aaron, you knew you were watching something really special.”18 That year, Aaron led the NL with 44 home runs, 132 runs batted in, 369 total bases, and 118 runs scored, but failed to meet his batting goal of .350. Instead, he finished a “mere” fourth in the league race with a .322 average. It was enough to earn him the only Most Valuable Player trophy of his career.

He followed that with 11 hits, including three homers, in 28 at-bats in the World Series. His .393 average certainly contributed to the Braves’ world championship, and was a fitting conclusion to a remarkable season. Both the man and his team walked off the field after the final out that October as, unquestionably, the best in baseball.

The year 1957 was also special for the Aarons for other reasons. In March, Barbara had delivered their first son, Hank Jr., and in December twins Lary and Gary arrived. Tragically, Gary died in the hospital, but the family carried on. It would grow once more, in 1962, with the birth of youngest daughter Dorinda.

In 1958, due in large part to Aaron’s 30 home runs, the Braves returned to the World Series, but lost to the Yankees in seven games. Although Henry Aaron only finished third in MVP voting for the year, he did win his first Gold Glove award. The following year the rising star appeared on the television show Home Run Derby, and won six consecutive matches – along with $13, 000 – before falling to the Phillies’ Wally Post. Afterward, Aaron noted that he changed his swing to help him hit more home runs because “ … they never had a show called ‘Singles Derby.’”19

His 1959 season was, arguably, the best of Aaron’s extraordinary career. Not only did he lead both major leagues in hits (223), batting average (.355), slugging (.636), and total bases (400), he committed only five errors all season while winning his second of three Gold Glove awards. The fielding mark is even more impressive in that, although he played 144 games as right fielder, he also played 13 in center and even five full games in the infield, at third base.  

Aaron hit his 200th career home run on July 3, 1960, off Cardinals pitcher Ron Kline, and on June 8, 1961, he joined Eddie Mathews, Joe Adcock, and Frank Thomas as the first quartet to hit successive homers in a single game, a 10-8 loss to the Cincinnati Reds. In 1963 he led the NL in home runs and RBIs, and also became the third-ever member of the 30/30 club, stealing 31 bases and socking 44 homers. That year Aaron barely missed winning the Triple Crown, losing the batting title to Tommy Davis by a scant .007 points, finishing in a tie with Dick Groat for fourth place in the major leagues with a .319 batting average.

He continued to excel throughout the decade. In the mid 1960s, though, the Braves uprooted the team and moved to Atlanta, as far south as any team in the major-league game. From a 2014 interview by Aaron, published in the Atlanta Business Chronicle, he “was not upset that his team would be moving to the segregated South. Aaron, who had grown up in Mobile, Alabama, played for the Jacksonville Braves and had traveled throughout the South when he was in the minor leagues. “It was something I had to get used to … I’m going to be playing baseball.

Coming up through the minor league system, I had always been affiliated with the Braves,” Aaron said. Because he cared about playing baseball, it didn’t matter if he was in Milwaukee or Atlanta. “I don’t have to be associated with anybody but the baseball players.”20

In 1966, the first season for the Braves in Georgia, Aaron hit his 400th career home run off Bo Belinsky in Philadelphia, and crested the 500-plateau two years later, in 1968 against Mike McCormick and the San Francisco Giants. He moved into third place on the all-time career home run list on July 30, 1969, when he passed Mickey Mantle with number 537. Despite his personal successes, and another third-place finish in the MVP race, the Braves were swept in three games by the improbable New York Mets in the new League Championship series. In the inaugural NLCS, Aaron batted .357 with three home runs.

The 1960s marked the peak of Aaron’s career. From 1960 to 1971, he averaged 152 games per season. In an “average” season, Aaron batted .308, scored 107 runs, amassed 331 total bases, hit 38 homers, and drove in 112 runs. This was all the more remarkable in that the time frame is widely remembered as the “decade of the pitcher,” yet Aaron gave no quarter when batting against some of the best in the game. Don Drysdale was his most frequent career home run victim, yielding 17, but the slugger also punished luminaries like Sandy Koufax and Juan Marichal, along with a wide array of less-gifted hurlers.   

His gift in the batter’s box flowed through his hands and wrists. In the 1990 book Men at Work:  The Craft of Baseball, author George Will summarized Hank’s approach: “Henry Aaron once said, ‘I never worried about the fastball. They couldn’t throw it past me. None of them.’ That was true, but that was Aaron, he of the phenomenally quick wrists and whippy, thin-handled bat.”21 Despite standing six feet tall, Aaron weighed a mere 180 pounds, almost scrawny in comparison to later sluggers, but his unique physical talent allowed him to wait on the pitcher for a split second longer than most other hitters, to seemingly pluck the ball from the catcher’s glove with his bat, and made him one of the most feared sluggers in the league.  

With his 3000th career hit, a single against the Cincinnati Reds on May 17, 1970, Henry Aaron became the first player ever to reach the dual milestones of 3,000 hits and 500 home runs. That year, with his 38 homers, he established a new NL record for most seasons by a player with 30 or more home runs. The following year, on April 28, Aaron hit homer number 600 off future Hall of Fame pitcher Gaylord Perry, joining Ruth and Mays in a most exclusive power-hitting fraternity. With his career-high 47 home runs that year he also set a new league record for most seasons with 40 or more homers with seven, and set an unofficial mark for “close-but-no-cigar” when he finished third in MVP balloting for a sixth time.

On the personal front, things between Henry and Barbara came to a head. The couple had been having marital difficulties since 1966, and had drifted apart. In February 1971, they formalized the separation with a legal divorce. Two years later, in 1973, Aaron married Billye Williams, a former Atlanta television journalist, in Jamaica.

Despite major-league baseball’s first labor-related work stoppage in 1972, Aaron passed Mays on the all-time home run list when he hammered number 661 off Reds pitcher Don Gullett on August 6. The impact of the strike wouldn’t really show until the following season. The two weeks that were lost to pension benefit negotiations represented eight lost opportunities for Aaron to continue his chase of Ruth’s career home run record, and by the end of 1973, with the national media working itself into a lather over Aaron’s pursuit of the iconic total, he ended the season with 713, one shy of tying the Bambino.

The stresses on the player, the team, opposing pitchers, and the sport that were spawned – or perhaps revealed – by Aaron’s 1973 season have been chronicled in a variety of sources. He retained an essential quiet dignity with the media and never allowed the moment to cause him to break in public, although a lesser man certainly might have cracked. Aaron received, literally, thousands of letters every week, and the torment prolonged over the winter of 1973 due to the strike in 1972. In 1973, however, the nation was a scant decade past the passage of the contentious Civil Rights Act, and less than a generation since Rosa Parks had refused to move to the back of her bus, so overt bigotry was not nearly as foreign as it might be now. Some of the letters that Aaron opened, however, are almost unbelievable for any era.

Some of the notable ones from the collection at the National Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown (spelling is verbatim):

“Hi, Hank,

I sees you hit 711 homers. When I goes to sleep every night I pray as follows:

1 – That you’se stop hitting these cheap homers

2 – That the pitchers stop lobbing in the ball for you to hit.

3 – That youse have a good accident when youse hit 713 and never been able to play another game.

4 – That youse get good and sick.

5 – That Babe Ruth is the best homer hitter & 714 is always the record.

6 – That youse get mugged by one of our brothers of the Black Panther Party.”

Another one, from mid-1973, read:

“Dear Hank Aaron,

Why are they making such a big fuss about your hitting 701 home runs.? sic

Please remember, you have been at bat over 2700 more times than Babe Ruth. If Babe Ruth was at bat 2700 more times he would have hit 814 home runs.

So, Hank what are you bragging about. Lets have the truth. You mentioned if you were white they would give you more credit. That’s ignorance. Stupid.

Hank, there are three things you can’t give a Nigger. A black eye, a puffed lip or a job.

The Cubs stink, the Cubs stink, Hinky Dinky, Stinky Parlevous. The Cubs are through, the Cubs are through, Hinky Pinky Parlevous.”

These are just a tiny sample of the venom and rage directed at Aaron throughout the later stages of his quest. In a third letter, a self-described “50 year old White Woman from Massachusetts” wrote, “To Hank Aaron: A Rotten Nigger … .you must have made every intelligent white man hate you and your opinions even more … ”.22 Describing those letters as mere irrational raving is reasonable nearly 40 years after the chase, but at the time, with a Black player pursuing the record of a White one, the threats seemed very real.

On the positive side, once the nation became aware of the bigotry, public support for Aaron poured in. But Aaron, perhaps channeling his inner Jackie Robinson, took the field without apparent regard for the attention surrounding his play. Atlanta opened the 1974 season in Cincinnati, and although the Braves management wanted Hank Aaron to break Ruth’s record in Atlanta, Commissioner Bowie Kuhn decreed that Aaron had to play at least two of the thee-game road series.

Aaron sat on his 713 total for one at-bat, hitting number 714 on April 4 off Cincinnati’s Jack Billingham. On April 8, in front of 53,775 fans in Atlanta, Aaron finally broke the record with a fourth-inning shot off the Dodgers’ Al Downing. Dodgers radio announcer Vin Scully captured the moment: “What a marvelous moment for baseball; what a marvelous moment for Atlanta and the state of Georgia; what a marvelous moment for the country and the world. A black man is getting a standing ovation in the Deep South for breaking a record of an all-time baseball idol. And it is a great moment for all of us, and particularly for Henry Aaron. … And for the first time in a long time, that poker face in Aaron shows the tremendous strain and relief of what it must have been like to live with for the past several months.”23 

The euphoria lasted all season, until October 2, when Aaron hammered his 733rd, and final, homer in Atlanta for the Braves. One month later, on November 2, Atlanta traded the all-time home run king to the Milwaukee Brewers for minor-league pitcher Roger Alexander and outfielder Dave May. “When Bud Selig called me,” [Aaron, talking about the trade] said to the New York Times. “I was too sleepy to get all the details … All I know is that I’m happy to be going back home. This is the first time I’ve ever been traded. If I was being traded to a city like Chicago or Philadelphia, I’d frown on it. But I’m going back to Milwaukee … I’m going back home.”24

Hank Aaron became a “designated hitter.” The next season, on May 1, 1975, Aaron became the all-time RBI leader, and on July 20, 1976, he hit the 755th home run of his career in Milwaukee’s County Stadium. He appeared in his final major-league game on October 3, calling it a career after 3,298 games.

In that career, Aaron scored 2,174 runs, and is the all-time leader in RBIs (2,297), total bases (6,856), and extra-base hits (1,477). The total bases figure is ‘just another stat’ at first blush, but Aaron’s lead over Albert Pujols, #2 on the list, is 645, or almost 10%. It is one of Aaron’s most remarkable displays of dominance across all eras. His 12,364 at-bats remain the second highest total ever, and he is on many of Major League Baseball’s “top ten” lists, including doubles, plate appearances, and hits (3,771). Even more remarkable is that he remains on these lists more than 35 years since he last took the field. In his otherwise hilarious and irreverent book Catcher in the Wry, former Aaron teammate and longtime Brewers’ broadcaster Bob Uecker is quite serious when he observes that, “[Aaron] was the most underrated player of my time, and his.”  This period included tremendous players like Willie Mays, Frank Robinson, and Roberto Clemente, yet Aaron did more for less recognition than anyone else. Uecker continued, “I asked him once if he felt slighted. He said, ‘What difference does it make?’”25

After retiring, Aaron returned to Atlanta as vice president of player development for the Braves, and on August 1, 1982, was formally inducted into the National Baseball Hall of Fame, although an inexplicable 2.2 percent of the ballots did not contain his name. He also worked for a time for Turner Broadcasting, and opened Hank Aaron BMW in Atlanta. His auto empire eventually grew to multiple dealerships in Georgia, although he sold all but one in 2007, and he expanded his business venture to include a number of smaller restaurants as well. The 755 Restaurant Corporation grew to 18 fast-food venues in the Southeast, including several Church’s Fried Chicken outlets.

It was not a simple, happy ending. In 1984, brother Tommie passed away due to leukemia. Older brother Hank later said in an interview: “I was sitting in my office one day in 1982,” Aaron wrote later wrote, “when my brother Tommie walked in and told me that he had some kind of blood disorder … the whole time, Tommie never demonstrated any pain until the very last night before he passed … It was the hardest night of my life.”26

In 1990 he wrote his autobiography, I Had a Hammer, and in April 1997 the Mobile Bay Bears (Southern League) christened “Hank Aaron Stadium” in Mobile. In 1999 Major League Baseball created the Hank Aaron Award to be awarded to the best offensive performers in each league each season, and in 2000 Aaron was named to MLB’s All-Century Team. In 2001, he was awarded the Presidential Citizen’s Medal by President Bill Clinton, and in 2002 was given the Presidential Medal of Freedom by President George W. Bush.

That slew of awards underscores Aaron’s fame and his relevance not only to baseball’s past, but also to America’s history. He was a Black man who successfully challenged the record of a White player whose legacy borders on mythical, and he did so with a poise so unshakable that it remains a study in professionalism. Naturally taciturn in public, he was only rarely able to convey his inner feelings with words, but he reserved one of his finest moments for the end of another controversy-laden home run chase, by Barry Bonds in 2007. When Bonds finally hit his 756th homer, Aaron’s face appeared on the JumboTron scoreboard in San Francisco, and he relayed a message to his replacement:

“I would like to offer my congratulations to Barry Bonds on becoming baseball’s career home run leader. It is a great accomplishment which required skill, longevity, and determination. Throughout the past century, the home run has held a special place in baseball and I have been privileged to hold this record for 33 of those years. I move over now and offer my best wishes to Barry and his family on this historical achievement. My hope today, as it was on that April evening in 1974, is that the achievement of this record will inspire others to chase their own dreams.”

Henry Aaron passed away in his sleep on January 22, 2021, just two weeks shy of his 87th birthday.27 He is buried at South View Cemetery in Atlanta.28

Dignity. Pride. Courage. Those are words often reserved for describing heroes. They also describe Henry Aaron.

Photo credits

National Baseball Hall of Fame Library, Trading Card Database, Atlanta Braves.

Notes

1 “Henry Aaron,” Alabama, U.S., Surname Files Expanded, 1702-1981; Alabama Department of Archives and History, online: https://www.ancestry.com/imageviewer/collections/61266/images/41904_539897-00023?pId=61280

2 Bill James, “Henry Aaron,” The Baseball Book: 1990 (New York: Villard, 1990), 161.

3 Hank Aaron and Lonnie Wheeler, I Had A Hammer: The Hank Aaron Story (New York, Harper Perennial, 1991), 14.

4 Nick Diunte, “Hank Aaron’s Lone Season in Puerto Rico Forever Altered His Path to the Hall of Fame,” Forbes.com, January 22, 2021, https://www.forbes.com/sites/nickdiunte/2021/01/22/hank-aarons-lone-season-in-puerto-rico-forever-altered-his-path-to-the-hall-of-fame/

5 Aaron and Wheeler, 32.

6 Aaron and Wheeler, 53.

7 James, 161.

8 Isreal’s last name is often spelled “Israel” – like the nation, but Baseball-Reference.com uses “Isreal”. https://www.baseball-reference.com/register/player.fcgi?id=isreal001elb. Of note, however, is that his father Frank’s World War II draft card spells the name (and in the signature), “Israel”.

9 “Henry Aaron, Negro Athlete, Is Voted Sally’s Most Valuable,” Panama City News Herald, August 19, 1953: 5.

10 Larry Schwartz, “Hank Aaron: Hammerin’ Back at Racism,” ESPN.com, accessed September 20, 2024, http://espn.go.com/sportscentury/features/00006764.html

11 Howard Bryant. The Last Hero: A Life of Henry Aaron (New York: Random House, 2010), 56.

12 Bryant, 69.

13 Dick Young, “Clubhouse Confidential,” The Sporting News, April 24, 1957: 17.

14 Dick Young, “Aaron Whipping Up Plate Breeze Aided By Lighter Bludgeon,” The Sporting News, May 1, 1957: 11.

15 Cleon Walfoort. “Aaron Turns Bad Pitches Into Base-hits,” The Sporting News, June 26, 1957: 7.

16 Walfoort, 7.

17 Steve Wulf, “The stuff of legends: In 1957, Cincinnati fans stacked the All-Star team too,” ESPN.com, June 29, 2015, https://www.espn.com/mlb/story/_/id/13168334/1957-cincinnati-fans-stacked-all-star-team-too 

18 Gary D’Amato, “Seasons of Greatness: No. 2 Hank Aaron 1957,” Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, February 26, 2012, http://m.jsonline.com/more/sports/brewers/140517023.htm

19 “Images from Hank Aaron’s chase for the career home run record,” ESPN.com, January 22, 2021, https://www.espn.com/mlb/story/_/id/30759553/images-hank-aaron-chase-career-home-run-record

20 Maria Saporta, “Hank Aaron reflects on past 50 years in Atlanta; Braves move to Cobb,” Atlanta Business Chronicle, October 24, 2014, https://saportareport.com/hank-aaron-reflects-on-past-50-years-in-atlanta-braves-move-to-cobb/sections/abcarticles/maria_saporta/

21 George Will, Men At Work: The Craft of Baseball (New York: MacMillan, 1990), 206.

22 Archives, National Baseball Hall of Fame, Cooperstown, New York (visited: 2011).

23 Jon Paul Hoornstra, “Relive Hank Aaron’s 715th Homer Through Vin Scully’s Historic Call,” Newsweek.com, accessed September 20, 2024, https://www.msn.com/en-us/sports/other/relive-hank-aaron-s-715th-homer-through-vin-scully-s-historic-call/ar-BB1lioQU 

24 Alex Coffey, “The Braves Trade Hank Aaron to the Brewers,” BaseballHall.org, accessed September 20, 2024, https://baseballhall.org/discover-more/stories/inside-pitch/the-braves-trade-henry-aaron

25 Bob Uecker and Mickey Herskowitz, Catcher in the Wry (New York: Berkeley Publishing Group, 1982), 167-168.

26 Aaron and Wheeler. I Had a Hammer; 434.

27 Richard Goldstein, “Hank Aaron, Home Run King Who Defied Racism, Dies at 86,” New York Times, January 22, 2021, https://www.nytimes.com/2021/01/22/sports/baseball/hank-aaron-dead.html

28 https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/221485980/hank-aaron

Santos Alomar Conde was born in Salinas, Puerto Rico on October 19, 1943. His parents were Demetrio Alomar Palmieri, a sugar-mill machine operator, and Rosa Conde Santiago. There were eight children overall in the family.1 Small in stature at 5’9” and 140 to 155 pounds, Sandy was the only one of the family’s four ballplaying brothers to make it to the major leagues. Antonio (Tony) and Rafael got as high as Triple-A; Demetrio played Class C and D ball. All played in the Puerto Rican Winter League (PRWL).

The Alomar baseball heritage was also visible on the maternal side. Rosa’s cousin, Ceferino “Cefo” Conde, pitched 14 seasons in the PRWL, from 1938-39 through 1952-53. Infielder Ramón “Wito” Conde, Cefo’s son, played pro ball from the early 1950s through the early 1970s – including 14 games with the Chicago White Sox in 1962.

Santos starred for both Luis Muñoz Rivera High School in his hometown and for the local American Legion team. He signed as an amateur free agent with the Milwaukee Braves before the 1960 season, receiving a bonus of about $12,000. The scout was Luis Olmo, the second Puerto Rican to play in the majors. Olmo had seen Alomar ever since he was a youth in Little League and Pony ball.2 Sandy was just 16 when he signed at the same time with brother Demetrio, who was then 21. He was supposed to report to Eau Claire, Wisconsin in the Class C Northern League after the school year ended.3 As it developed, though, he did not play in the U.S. in 1960. He was on the restricted list (perhaps because of his age).4

Still only 17 in 1961, Alomar began his ride on the minor league whirlwind still familiar to young players. To his delight, when he landed in the Midwest League, he found himself teamed with Demetrio in the Davenport, Iowa infield. He later admitted that this fortuitous situation helped make his transition to American baseball more comfortable.5 He made stops in (among other places) Austin, Boise – where he hit a lofty .329 in 1962 – and Denver. Alomar began his PRWL career in the winter of 1961-62 with the Arecibo Lobos. He spent six seasons with the Wolves, followed by six with the Ponce Leones.

Alomar was called up from Milwaukee’s Triple-A Denver club in September 1964. He made his major league debut on September 15, a little over a month shy of his 21st birthday. He started at shortstop in the first game of a doubleheader at County Stadium and batted eighth, singling in a run in his first at-bat off St. Louis left-hander Ray Sadecki. A popup and groundout followed, before a pinch-hitter replaced him leading off the eighth. Besides batting 1-for-3, Alomar also made an error in the 11-6 loss. He started at short again in the second game, but had the misfortune of facing ace Bob Gibson, who struck Alomar out twice.

In 53 at-bats over 19 games in his first big-league stint, Alomar hit .245 with a double and 6 RBIs. He played the bulk of the following year for the Atlanta Crackers, which had become the Braves’ AAA team that season. He did appear in 67 more games for the big club, however, batting .241 with 8 RBIs while playing second base as well as shortstop. He also stole 12 bases.

The Braves’ major league franchise made its heralded move to Atlanta to start the 1966 season, but Alomar’s opportunities to make an impression were growing fewer. Spending most of that season in Richmond (the Braves’ new AAA home), Sandy – now playing mainly second base – got only 44 at-bats with the major league club, collecting merely a double and three singles for an .091 average. In 117 total games for the Braves over parts of three seasons, Alomar hit just .210 with four extra base hits, 16 runs batted in, and only 13 steals. He had made nine errors in the infield. Alomar’s days with the team that brought him to the United States were quickly coming to an end.

Before the 1967 season, the Braves sent Sandy to Houston as the player to be named later in a deal that had brought future Hall of Famer Eddie Mathews to the Astros. A month later, however, Houston moved him along to New York for utilityman Derrell Griffith. The Mets, entering only their sixth season as a major league franchise, were looking for a versatile infielder – shortstop Bud Harrelson was not yet ready and veteran second baseman Chuck Hiller was considered a weak glove man. “It was a case of trading a good bat for a good glove and speed,” explained Mets GM Bing Devine.6

Looking for a way to expand his value at the plate, Alomar came to camp determined to become a switch-hitter, something he had tried in his rookie season with the Braves with limited success. Unfortunately, the results didn’t change. He spent most of the year with the Mets’ International League team in Jacksonville, playing all four infield positions and the outfield but hitting only .209. When the Mets did recall him, Sandy got just 22 at-bats without a hit (this 0-for-22 streak stood for a time as a Met record for hitless futility.) And before the season was over, he was gone.

On August 15th, Alomar was once again a player named later. He was shipped to the White Sox to complete an earlier deal that had also sent third-base great Ken Boyer to Chicago. It was at this point that Alomar became disillusioned. “It was a nightmare,” he told a reporter in an interview three years later when asked about the season in which he was on the roster of four different major league teams. “Like a piece of garbage…They treat me like I was something they could throw away when they want to…They brainwash me. They tell me I cannot hit, that I good glove man…they say I am too little to not wear down. They make me believe these things myself…almost.” However, he had a backer in the White Sox organization: coach Grover Resinger, who knew him from his days with the Braves and from the minor leagues.7

When he had been sent back to the minors in June 1967, Alomar admitted he had thought of quitting and going back to Puerto Rico. “And then I look at my four mouths to feed and one on the way…and I think that for one last chance Sandy will go to the minors.”8 Santos Jr. had been born during the 1966 season while his dad was playing in Atlanta; Roberto was the “one on the way.” The first Alomar child was a daughter named Sandia. Sandy and María Angelita Velázquez had gotten married on December 23, 1963.9

In the Second City, however, Alomar’s prospects began to brighten. He appeared in only 12 games during the remainder of the 1967 season, but in 1968, Sox manager Eddie Stanky finally made Sandy a regular. Under the tutelage of scout and hitting instructor Deacon Jones, Alomar upped his average to .253, at one point in the season reaching .274. Infield mate Luis Aparicio was impressed: “That fellow has improved 150%,” remarked the future Hall of Famer.10

That winter, Ponce won the first of back to-back PRWL championships. Rocky Bridges, then a coach for the California Angels, managed the 1968-69 squad. Unfortunately, Alomar had a slow start to the ’69 big-league season. He was traded again, to the Angels on May 14th, in a package for infielder Bobby Knoop. Though Knoop was coming off three consecutive Gold Glove awards, the Angels thought Alomar could do everything except make the pivot as well as or better than Knoop.11

Angels’ manager Bill Rigney thought he saw in Alomar a chance to kick-start his lineup from the top. “We’ve never had a leadoff hitter,” said Rigney. “If we’re going to do it with singles, we might as well do it with speed, too.” Rocky Bridges was also excited: “Sandy can run,” he remarked. “He’ll create excitement. The fans will be looking for him to go every time he’s on first.”12

It was in Anaheim that Sandy Alomar finally settled down. Installed as the everyday second baseman, Alomar had almost 600 plate appearances in 1969, hitting a passable .250 with 30 RBIs, though he stole only 18 bases. With Ponce that winter, the Leones repeated as PRWL champs. The skipper was Alomar’s double-play partner with the Angels, Jim Fregosi, in his first job as manager.

If Angel fans were truly looking for Alomar to run every time he got on first, they felt much more confident in 1970. Playing the full 162-game schedule for the first time, Alomar hit .251 in 672 at-bats, driving in 36 runs and swiping 35 bases. He also walked 49 times with only 65 strikeouts, helping make him the leadoff hitter the Angels had been hoping for.

Alomar’s season was impressive enough for him to be named as an AL reserve in the All-Star Game after Rod Carew was injured. He took great pride in having his hard work recognized.13 At Cincinnati’s Riverfront Stadium, he went hitless in his one at-bat, flying out against Claude Osteen in the top of the 12th in what’s remembered as the “Pete Rose-Ray Fosse” game.

Alomar’s professional peak was the 1970-71 winter season. He hit a league-leading .343 in 251 at-bats for Ponce and was named the PRWL’s Most Valuable Player. The Leones finished in fourth among the league’s six teams that season, however, and were knocked out in the semi-finals.

The next season with the Angels proved to be Alomar’s most successful in the majors. Now 27 years old, he collected close to 700 at-bats for the second year in a row and hit a new high, batting .260. He also set personal career bests with 179 hits, 42 RBIs, and 39 stolen bases. In addition, he set a major-league record by coming to the plate 739 times without being hit by a pitch (Alomar was struck by a pitched ball only three times in 15 seasons).

Overall, Alomar enjoyed the most productive stretch of his career in Southern California – in a period covering four full seasons and parts of two others, Sandy appeared in close to 800 games, hitting .248 with 162 RBIs; he stole 139 bases in 186 attempts. At 30 years old, the veteran infielder felt he had finally made his mark. Alomar played in a remarkable 648 consecutive games in one stretch from 1969 through September 1973, until he suffered a broken leg when Jerry Hairston Sr. slammed into him while breaking up a double play. This streak – which earned Alomar the nickname “The Iron Pony” – is still 19th-longest in big-league history.

Alomar sat out the 1973-74 winter season in Puerto Rico while he recovered from his broken leg. Meanwhile, in December 1973, the Angels acquired second baseman Denny Doyle from the Philadelphia Phillies. Doyle won the starting job in California that spring, and in July 1974, after playing in just 54 games as a reserve, Alomar was on the move again. His contract was sold to the New York Yankees, who had parted ways with their second baseman since 1967, Horace Clarke, that May.

The change of scenery helped – Alomar batted .269 in 76 games while playing second base in the Bronx. When he came back for the 1974-75 season in Puerto Rico, he was a member of the Santurce Cangrejeros. He played in five seasons for the Crabbers.

The whole Yankee team got off to a slow start in the 1975 season. Sandy was hitting a meager .205 and even floundering in the field. He began to question himself. “When I’m in my room by myself, that’s when I think about the way I am going,” he mused. “I think, ‘Why do you do this when you could have done that? Why do you miss that pitch…why do you miss that ball?’…There are times when I ask myself whether I can hit or not.

“Sometimes I go to a restaurant and I order and I don’t feel like eating…I know, myself, that I’m a better hitter than what I’m doing now. A baseball player – you have to accept the ups and the downs.”14

Still, the Yankees, meandering to an 83-win, third-place finish in the AL East, kept Alomar in the lineup almost every day. He ended the season hitting .239 in 151 games with 28 steals. His .975 fielding percentage led all major leaguers at the keystone base.

In the Yankees’ pennant-winning year of 1976, Alomar, now a utilityman with the emergence of young second baseman Willie Randolph, did everything on the field except pitch and catch. He appeared in 67 games and mirrored his previous season, hitting .239.

More importantly, for the first time in his major league career, Alomar found himself in the post-season, as the Yankees won the AL East and then their first pennant since 1964. In the AL Championship Series against Kansas City, Sandy went 0-for-1 in his single plate appearance, flying out as a pinch-hitter to end New York’s 7-4 defeat in Game Four. He was also called on to pinch-run, but was caught stealing second base to end the sixth, in what ultimately turned out to be a Yankee win when Chris Chambliss homered in the bottom of the ninth to win the series. Alomar did not appear in the World Series in that or any other year.

His value as a utility player made him attractive to other teams, however, and the Texas Rangers traded for him in February 1977, in a deal that sent infielder Brian Doyle to the Bronx. Over parts of the next two seasons, Alomar continued in his role as utilityman, hitting .265, mostly as a DH. In 1978, his U.S. career came to a close; he got only 29 at-bats and collected only six hits. He was released by the Rangers at the end of the year.

The final numbers in the majors for Santos Alomar Sr. are not imposing. Over a 15-year major league career and over 4,700 at-bats, he hit just .245 with 13 homers, 282 RBIs, and 227 stolen bases (he was caught 80 times). His on-base percentage was a lowly .290, but his fielding percentage was a solid .976.

Alomar did not play in Puerto Rico in the winter of 1978-79 after the Rangers released him. However, he appeared for Santurce in 25 games in 1979-80. He closed out his playing career the following winter with six appearances as player-manager for Ponce. Overall, Alomar hit .270 in over 1,000 games in the PRWL during 18 seasons (the exact number of total games is not certain because the figure is missing for 1963-64). He hit 25 homers and stole 168 bases, leading the league in steals an unequaled six times.

But Sandy Alomar’s contribution to the game he loved would not end with his retirement. Back in Puerto Rico, he bought a gas station in Salinas, while his two sons learned the game their father had made his livelihood. While Sandy Jr. and Roberto honed their baseball skills, Sandy Sr. continued working in baseball, coaching the Puerto Rican national team from 1979-1984. In the 1980s, he coached and managed with Santurce and again with Ponce.

Roberto, who grew to 6 feet, and Sandy Jr., at 6-feet-5, were both much bigger than their father. When asked about the physical differences in 1997, Sandy Jr. remarked that his mother was relatively tall at 5-feet-7, while his uncles were all tall as well. “My father is the only midget,” he concluded.15

Luis Rosa, a San Diego Padres scout working throughout Latin America, came to see both Alomar offspring. He also approached their father about a position in the organization. The Padres’ director of minor league scouting was looking for an infield instructor and Alomar had played for San Diego manager Dick Williams when they were both with the Angels. Thus, the Padres hired him, but made it clear that it was not to encourage his talented sons to sign with their team.16 Eventually, however, they both did.

Their father claims he never pressured either of them to pursue a baseball career. Though Roberto always wanted to be a big-leaguer, Santos Jr. stopped playing ball for a couple of his teenage years to ride dirt bikes. “My dad gave me a speech,” Sandy Jr. said years later. “He said that riding bikes was a hobby and not a job … you spend money in that. You don’t get money.”17

The senior Alomar tried not to give his sons too much baseball advice either, but Sandy Jr. believed that being the son of a major-leaguer had its advantages and disadvantages. “You have a name that helps you,” he said. “But some people do expect you to be the same as your father. That’s not right. We’re different people.”18

As his progeny made their way through pro ball, their father’s coaching odyssey continued: He served as a coach for the Padres’ affiliate in Charleston, South Carolina in its inaugural season – both of his sons were on the team. Sandy Sr. then became a major-league coach for the Padres from 1986 through1990, so he was on hand when his sons reached The Show in 1988.

Sandy Sr. then joined the Chicago Cubs organization, working as a roving minor league instructor during the 1990s. He also managed their Williamsport team in the NY-Penn League for part of the 1994 season, as well as their Gulf Coast Rookie League team in 1995 and 1996.

Alomar joined the Cubs’ major league staff in 2000 and remained there for three seasons, as bullpen coach and (in 2002) as first-base coach. He then moved to the Colorado Rockies’ third-base coaching box for two seasons. Alomar remained connected to the Puerto Rican baseball scene too. He served as general manager of the San Juan Senadores in 1999-2000. He also managed the national team in regional tournaments in 2003.

Alomar returned to the Mets in 2005, serving as first-base coach for two seasons, third-base coach for two more, and then finally becoming bench coach. He actually managed a game on May 9, 2009, after Jerry Manuel was suspended for an altercation with umpire Bill Welke. When the Mets beat Pittsburgh 10-1 and the Phillies lost to the Braves, the Mets moved into first place in the NL East under Alomar’s one-game stewardship.

That season, however, was his last in a big-league uniform, though he managed again in the Gulf Coast Rookie League for the Mets in 2010.

The website Champions of Faith notes that Alomar is a lifelong Catholic and that he calls his wife María “the spiritual leader of the family”.19 They had six grandchildren.

Alomar died at the age of 81 on October 13, 2025, just days before his 82nd birthday.

In stature, Sandy Alomar Sr. was not a giant. But on the diamond, though he had his share of struggles in the game, his pride and perseverance made him a useful asset. His defensive versatility helped, as did an obvious passion to play as well as he was capable in every game. As Grover Resinger put it in 1970, Alomar had value “defensively, offensively and inspirationally.”20

In 2014, Alomar himself expressed it this way as he passed on lessons from his decades of wisdom at the Vauxhall Academy of Baseball in Canada. “Size really doesn’t matter if you have faith in yourself and you know you can do it. If you sacrifice, and you put the effort in, you will become what you feel it is you should become.” 21

He repeated a different dictum later that year at another baseball camp in Canada. “When you have pride, you have a will. When you have a will, you have respect. When you have respect, you create discipline. Discipline gives you knowledge. Knowledge gives you awareness. And awareness gives you anticipation.”22

Acknowledgments

Thanks to Rory Costello for his input.

Photo credit: National Baseball Hall of Fame Library.

Sources

Internet resources

Ancestry.com

Myheritage.com

Books

José A. Crescion Benítez, El Béisbol Profesional Boricua, San Juan, Puerto Rico: Aurora Comunicación Integral, Inc., 1997.

Newspaper articles

In addition to those cited in the notes, I also used several articles from the below.

Chicago Tribune

New York Times

Chicago Daily Defender

Notes

Joaquín Andújar was a fierce competitor and entertaining showman for 13 major-league seasons. The hard-throwing right-hander was the first starting pitcher from the Dominican Republic to earn a World Series victory, and no big leaguer won more games in the 1984 and 1985 seasons combined.

With his emotional, all-out style of play, Andújar also won a Gold Glove and homered from both sides of the plate, but his volcanic temper also led to an infamous World Series ejection that marred the four-time All-Star’s reputation. Andújar was an unpredictable athlete whose career can perhaps best be described by his own signature quote: “One word in America says it all – you never know.”1

Joaquín Andújar Sabino was born on December 21, 1952, in San Pedro de Macoris, a sugar mill town on the Dominican Republic’s southeastern coast. He was the only child of Jose Joaquín Andújar and Clara Sabino, a short-lived couple who split up before he could walk. His paternal grandparents, Saturno and Juana Garcia Andújar, raised him in their zinc-roofed home between San Pedro de Macoris’s famed Catedral San Pedro Apostol to the east, and the Iguamo River to the west.

During Andújar’s formative years, the Dominican Republic was enduring the final trimester of Rafael L. Trujillo’s three decades of dictatorship. Most of the country’s resources were firmly controlled by “El Jefe,” including the seasonal sugar industry, which was San Pedro de Macoris’s chief employer. Andújar’s grandfather worked at the Ingenio Porvenir, second oldest of the seven sugar mills dotting the city. Porvenir means “future” and, for Andújar and most of his peers, growing up to a life of labor there was indeed a probable outcome.

The 1960s were as turbulent in the Dominican Republic as they were in the United States. Andújar was 8 years old when Trujillo was assassinated in 1961. By the year he turned 13, tens of thousands of US troops occupied the country briefly to quell a Dominican civil war following a series of regime changes. “Trying to Prevent Another Cuba” was the snag line on a Time magazine cover story describing the events of 1965. Meanwhile, the first wave of Dominican ballplayers was establishing a pipeline that would soon see their country surpass Cuba as the majors’ primary source of Latin American talent.

Andújar actually preferred basketball initially but, like much of his country, he was fascinated when the 1962 San Francisco Giants surged to the National League pennant with four Dominicans on the roster. The first two big leaguers from San Pedro de Macoris – Amado Samuel of the Milwaukee Braves and Manny Jimenez of the Kansas City Athletics – debuted the same year. Baseball had been popular in the Dominican back to the late nineteenth century, but suddenly it was everywhere, and Andújar began playing as much as he could. “Without a good glove, a decent bat or a pair of cleats, because everybody is very poor,” he recalled. “We used to make a rag ball, or we bought a rubber ball and played in the streets.”2

Andújar’s first amateur club was called Jabon Hispano and, when he got older, he played for a team managed by Pedro Gonzalez, the first Dominican to play for the New York Yankees. Andújar was a switch-hitting center fielder who usually hit cleanup, an all-or-nothing free swinger with a combustible temper. Once, he destroyed his own jersey when Gonzalez took him out of a game. It was a big deal, because the incident occurred around the same time Andújar quit attending Jose Joaquín Perez High School because his family couldn’t afford to buy him pants or shoes. With his grandfather nearing retirement age, the boiler room at Ingenio Porvenir looked increasingly like the setting for Andújar’s future.

Tetelo Vargas Stadium opened in San Pedro de Macoris just before Andújar’s7th birthday. The Estrellas Orientales of the Dominican winter league played there, and Andújar spent a good chunk of his teen years shagging balls for them and studying major leaguers like Braves slugger Rico Carty up close. The facility was available to youth leagues, too, and it was there that Wilfredo Calvino noticed a particularly strong Andújar throw from center field. Calvino was a former minor-league catcher from Cuba who scouted for the Cincinnati Reds. “He asked me if I wanted to become a pitcher,” Andújar said. “I told him that I didn’t care, that the only thing I wanted was to go to the United States to make money and help my family and myself.”3

Andújar signed with the Reds in November 1969, and reported to rookie league the following summer along with two other 17-year-old Calvino signees from San Pedro. Incredibly all three of them would play in the major leagues. Santo Alcala was a tall, happy pitcher who’d room with Andújar in the minors for most of the next five years, while Arturo DeFreites was a serious, muscular third baseman who’d wallop 32 homers one year in Triple A when he filled out. On a diet of hot dogs and French fries because he didn’t know how to order anything else in English, Andújar struck out more batters than any right-handed pitcher in the Gulf Coast League in 1970, including a handful in the circuit’s all-star game. Upon returning home, he joined the legendary Leones del Escogido – winner of half of the last dozen Dominican League championships – for seven appearances before his 18th birthday.

A promotion to the Northern League Sioux Falls Packers in 1971 proved extremely challenging, however. Tougher competition, real road trips, and a manager who didn’t speak Spanish added up to a difficult season. Andújar led the team in wild pitches and was demoted to the bullpen. At the end of the season, manager Dave Pavlesic told the high-kicking Andújar , “You’re not Juan Marichal. You’d better learn how to pitch.”4

Andújar got 93⅓ innings of much-needed experience that winter for Escogido. He led the Dominican League in walks, but fashioned an impressive 2.93 ERA and the Reds noticed. While Alcala and DeFreites went to a co-op Single-A team to play for a Spanish-speaking manager, Cincinnati promoted Andújar to Double A. The Eastern League hitters were one challenge, but pitching for Les Aigles des Trois-Rivieres meant “home” games were played in the French-speaking Canadian province of Quebec. Against all odds Andújar thrived, winning seven of his first eight decisions before rolling his ankle and literally limping to a 7-6 final record.

Still hobbling in winter ball, Andújar was traded in midseason to the Estrellas Orientales. The four-player deal allowed Escogido to recover the contractual rights to Juan Marichal. Andújar was thrilled to pitch for his hometown team, which featured lots of Houston Astros through a working agreement with the National League franchise. Cesar Cedeno and J.R. Richard were two of the club’s stars that winter, but it was Estrellas manager (and Astros coach) Hub Kittle who’d have the biggest impact on Andújar’sfuture. “Everything I have, I owe to Hub Kittle,” Andújar remarked years later.5

The Reds invited Andújar to his first big-league spring training in 1973, but sent him to Triple A, where he didn’t care for Indianapolis Indians skipper Vern Rapp. “I tell (Reds farm director Chief) Bender in spring training I no like to go to Indianapolis. I told them I no like manager. He gives you hell when you lose,” Andújar explained.6

Andújar walked too many batters and in June was sent back to Trois-Rivieres, where he proceeded to show he had nothing left to prove in Double A by going 5-2 with a 1.98 ERA. He followed that up with a 2.53 mark in winter ball, where he cut down his leg kick and walk rate while learning from “El Coyote,” Hub Kittle’s nickname in the Dominican.

Back at Indianapolis in 1974, Andújar made 17 starts and 16 relief appearances as Rapp jerked him in and out of the rotation. The low point came in July when Andújar responded to an early hook by destroying a dugout water cooler, which prompted Rapp to suspend him. Andújar finished 8-8 with a 3.57 ERA and two saves as Indianapolis made it to the league finals before falling to the Tulsa Oilers. The championship series went the distance with several extra-inning contests, but Rapp used Andújar only as a pinch-runner.

Back in the Dominican, however, Kittle was more than happy to give him the ball. Andújar responded by winning six of seven decisions and the Dominican League’s native-pitcher-of-the-year honors. “They said he had a million-dollar arm and a ten-cent head. But that’s not true. He’s a very intelligent person,” Kittle observed.7

The Estrellas came up just short in their championship series as well, but Andújar was selected to accompany the triumphant Aguilas Cibaenas to Puerto Rico for the Caribbean Series. He beat Venezuela in his lone start.

Andújar arrived at spring training in 1975 with Reds manager Sparky Anderson hoping some special treatment would unlock his potential, as it had for another volatile Dominican, Pedro Borbon, a few years before. Instead, Andújar began a third straight season in Indianapolis. Before he even got into a game, Rapp told him he was going back to Double A. “Vern Rapp grabs me and says if I don’t like it I can fight him,” Andújar said. “I think to myself, Joaquín , you be making wrong move fighting with Vern Rapp.”8

Injuries limited Andújar to just 62 innings at Trois-Rivieres and, two days after the Reds won the World Series, they traded Andújar to the last-place Houston Astros for pitchers Luis Sanchez and Carlos Alfonso, neither of whom pitched a single inning for Cincinnati. Andújar went 7-2 for the Estrellas to repeat as native-pitcher-of-the-year in what proved to be his last winter with Kittle, who left the Astros organization as part of their organizational shakeup

On Opening Day 1976, Andújar made his major-league debut in – of all places – Cincinnati, walking the first two batters he faced to force in a run. He didn’t pitch much for the first two months, but beat the Reds, 2-1, with a complete-game two-hitter on June 1 for his first major-league win. He became the first Dominican ever named Player of the Week after shutting out the Cubs in his next start. By mid-July, he’d beaten the Reds twice more with complete games, and pitched back-to-back 1-0 shutouts. Pitching for a sub-.500 club, Andújar finished his rookie season 9-10 with a 3.60 ERA.

Andújar got off to a slow start in 1977, but reeled off six straight victories. With a 10-5 midseason record, he was named to Sparky Anderson’s National League All-Star squad. A pulled hamstring in his last start before the break kept him out of action, and Andújar won only once more after missing six weeks. He proved he was healthy in 14 starts that winter, rejoining the Leones del Escogido in the Dominican capital of Santo Domingo for the first time in five years. Andújar also married the former Walkiria Damaris Saez in the offseason, and expected big things from himself in 1978.

After predicting a 25-win season in spring training, Andújar pitched well early in 1978, though poor run support prevented his record from reflecting it. He hurt himself swinging for the fences during batting practice in May, however, then ticked off manager Bill Virdon by swinging too hard in his first game back and aggravating the injury. Andújar exited one game with a debilitating case of jock itch, then suffered another hamstring pull that knocked him out of action for nearly two months. After finishing a lost Astros season in the bullpen, he recovered to lead the Dominican League in complete games for Escogido and pitch in another Caribbean Series before spring training.

Andújar’santics didn’t endear him to his manager, never mind opponents, but many fans got a kick out of his gunslinger routine in which he pointed his index finger at vanquished hitters like a pistol. In his early years, he’d even pretend to blow the gunsmoke away and return the gun to his holster.

The 1979 Astros got off to a great start with Andújar excelling in a swingman role. When he finally rejoined the rotation, he won Pitcher of the Month honors in June and returned to the All-Star Game with an 11-5 first-half record. Andújar pitched in the game at the Seattle Kingdome. Over the course of the next month, he became a father when son Jesse was born, and hit his first big-league home run, an inside-the-park blast with a man aboard at the Astrodome to beat Montreal’s Bill “Spaceman” Lee, 2-1.

The Astros coughed up a 10-game division lead, however, as Andújar lost seven of eight decisions after the break and was sent back to the bullpen. Houston agreed to swap him to the World Series champion Pittsburgh Pirates for aging slugger Bill Robinson at the winter meetings, but Robinson nixed the deal by exercising his 10-5 rights. Andújar didn’t know who he’d be pitching for on Opening Day, but he enjoyed another strong winter campaign for Escogido. In February he beat Venezuela in his only start to help the Dominican Republic win the Caribbean Series on their home turf.

Andújar had his first six-figure salary heading into 1980 after winning his arbitration case, but few opportunities to start after Houston signed Nolan Ryan to a free-agent contract. One year after pitching in the All-Star Game, Andújar failed to win a single game in a first half in which he rarely got to pitch at all. The Astros kept him as insurance in case somebody got hurt, which proved to be all too prescient when ace J.R. Richard suffered a tragic stroke in July. Andújar posted a 1.19 ERA in August when the Astros turned to him in desperation, but was returned to the bullpen for a third straight year by season’s end. Houston survived a one-game tiebreaker to win the National League West. When the Astros finally won a tense NLCS Game Two in Philadelphia for the franchise’s first-ever postseason victory, Andújar got credit for a save. They lost the NLCS in five games.

Andújar’swinter season ended abruptly when he got into a dispute about complimentary tickets with Escogido’s front office. The Leones won their first title in a dozen years without him, and the Astros kept making it abundantly clear that they weren’t relying on Andújar either by acquiring two more proven starting pitchers. Andújar offered to pitch for free as he languished as the last man on the pitching staff for two months. His agents implored him to wait quietly for his impending free agency. Finally, in the first week of June, he was traded to the St. Louis Cardinals. Before he could even get into a game with his new team, major-league players walked out on strike for more than seven weeks.

When play resumed, however, Andújar won six of seven decisions for Cardinals manager Whitey Herzog and a St. Louis pitching coach he knew very well, Hub Kittle. “Before the Cardinals got me, I was like a plant that needed water,” he said. “Whitey and Hub, they poured water on me, and I grew to be a tree.”9

Andújar signed a three-year free-agent contract to return to St. Louis, and it paid immediate dividends in 1982. His control was better than ever and he was an important part of an exciting team that got off to a hot start. By the All-Star break, Andújar had the second-lowest ERA in the National League, but not enough victories to earn a spot on the team. Though he continued to pitch effectively, his record slipped to 8-10 by early August before he reeled off seven straight wins to close the regular season. His 5-0 record in September earned him NL Pitcher of the Month honors and helped the Cardinals win their division. Andújar won the pennant-clincher in Atlanta in the NLCS, then took on the high-scoring Milwaukee Brewers in the World Series.

Andújar was the only player on the field wearing short sleeves on a cold night as he carried a shutout into the seventh inning against the highest-scoring team in two decades. His evening ended abruptly when Ted Simmons hit a wicked one-hopper that caromed off Andújar’sright knee into foul territory. Writhing and screaming in obvious agony, he nevertheless became the first pitcher from the Dominican Republic to win a World Series game when reliever Bruce Sutter nailed down the final outs.

Andújar spent several days on crutches, and it appeared unlikely that he’d be able to pitch if the Series went the distance. When Game Seven of the 1982 fall classic got underway at Busch Stadium, however, Andújar was back on the mound to demonstrate why he’d been calling himself “One Tough Dominican” all season. Andújar got through seven innings with a lead, then had to be hauled off the field by several teammates after Milwaukee’s Jim Gantner profanely called him a hot dog. Six outs later, the Cardinals were World Series champions. Andújar figured his 2-0 series record and 1.35 ERA were Series MVP numbers, but the honors went to his catcher, Darrell Porter. Even one of the losing Brewers got more votes than Andújar .

In 1983 he won his first two decisions to extend his winning streak to 12 before his season unraveled due to too many overthrown, straight, high fastballs. In June the Cardinals lost leadoff hitter Lonnie Smith to drug rehab and star first baseman Keith Hernandez to a trade. Andújar was healthy enough to start 34 games, but finished the season with a miserable 6-16 record. “God is still my amigo,” he insisted. “He must be someplace else. Maybe He’s watching the American League.”10

Andújar was one of the most aggressive, and unusual, hitters in baseball history. He struck out in more than half of his at-bats, usually swinging as hard as he could. He was a switch-hitter, but not in the usual sense. “If the pitcher has good control, I will bat left-handed against a right-handed pitcher. I bat right-handed against pitchers who don’t have good control, or if I don’t know them, because I don’t want to get hit in the right arm. I bat right-handed with nobody on base because I’m a power hitter from that side. I bat left-handed with men on base so I can make better contact and drive in runs.”11

In 1984, he homered both right-handed and left-handed – including a grand slam – and won a Gold Glove. Andújar also earned National League Comeback Player of the Year honors after winning his 20th game with just two games to play in the regular season. Andújar skipped the All-Star Game to be with his ailing grandfather, and finished a distant fourth in Cy Young voting despite being the league’s only 20-game winner. After the season, he received a hero’s welcome, however, when more than 10,000 Dominicans welcomed his flight back to Santo Domingo. “I grew up here. I never moved from here. People appreciate that,” he explained. “I hope I die here, but you never know.”12

St. Louis rewarded Andújar with a three-year contract that made him just the third Dominican to average more than $1 million annually. He was the Cardinals’ Opening Day starter in 1985 and raced off to a 12-1 start that kept the Redbirds afloat in what would prove to be a season-long dogfight with the young New York Mets in the NL East. Andújar appeared on the cover of The Sporting News with his friend and fellow Dominican, Reds ace Mario Soto. Both pitchers had been involved in multiple bench-clearing incidents in recent seasons, and Andújar led the league in hit batters for the second consecutive year. In the article, titled “So Good … So Misunderstood,” Andújar said: “Nolan Ryan pitches inside, and I don’t see anybody fighting Nolan Ryan. Steve Carlton pitches inside to everybody, nobody says anything. But when Joaquín Andújar and Mario Soto pitch inside, everybody goes to the mound and fights. If they love to fight, they should go to war and fight. They should go to the Middle East.”13

Andújar’srecord was 15-4 in the first half, but San Diego Padres manager Dick Williams decided to choose his All-Star Game starting pitcher based on a one-game showdown between Andújar and San Diego’s LaMarr Hoyt. Andújar was so put off by the idea that he vowed never to attend another All-Star Game in his life. As unlikely as it was at the time, he’d never be invited back anyway. Andújar won a career-high 21 games in 1985, despite struggling through a 6-8 record in the second half. To make matters worse, in September, former Cardinals teammates Lonnie Smith and Keith Hernandez both identified him as a cocaine user in the sensational drug trial taking place in Pittsburgh.

The Cardinals went 101-61 to win the NL East and ousted the Los Angeles Dodgers in a six-game NLCS, but Andújar’sstruggles continued. He was bombed by the Kansas City Royals in Game Three of the World Series, which proved to be his last appearance in St. Louis as a Cardinal. The Redbirds nearly won their second World Series championship in four years, but blew a ninth-inning lead in Game Six following a controversial call by first-base umpire Don Denkinger. St. Louis was already trailing Game Seven, 9-0 in the fourth inning, when Whitey Herzog called on Andújar – whom he’d chosen not to start – to pitch mop-up relief with Denkinger calling balls and strikes. He gave up a single and a base on balls. The walk caused Andújar to lose his cool, charging and bumping Denkinger, and getting ejected.

Though Andújar’s41 wins over two seasons were unsurpassed in the majors, the Cardinals took the best offer they could get for him, sending him the Oakland A’s for pitcher Tim Conroy and catcher Mike Heath in December of 1985. In addition to a 10-game suspension for his World Series outburst, Andújar faced up to a one-year ban from Commissioner Peter Ueberroth in the fallout from the drug trial. Unlike the six other players – including Smith and Hernandez – facing the most severe punishment, Andújar was never called to testify.

As it turned out, Andújar missed only the first five games of 1986 before a series of injuries caused him to spend time on the disabled list for the first time in eight seasons. He talked about retirement before coming on strong to go 12-7 for an Oakland club that finished 10 games under .500.

In 1987 he arrived late for spring training, which wasn’t unusual, but injured himself going all out in his first day of drills, which was. The birth of his second son, Christopher, was about the only highlight in a season that saw him post a 6.08 ERA and average less than five innings in the 13 starts he was able to make. When Oakland general manager Sandy Alderson reflected on the trade he put together to acquire Andújar , he said, “Both teams got nothing, but our nothing was louder than theirs.”14

Andújar took a substantial pay cut to return to the Houston Astros in 1988, but endured a pulled muscle in his side and knee surgery in April alone. In his first appearance back in St. Louis since being traded by the Cardinals, he surrendered a walk-off home run to fellow Dominican Tony Peña. When he drilled Peña with a fastball a few weeks later, he was fined and suspended by NL President Chub Feeney. “There is some guy, some big guy in United States baseball, he doesn’t want me in baseball. He wants me out of the game,” Andújar said.15

Andújar’s4.00 ERA wasn’t terrible, but he couldn’t go deep enough into games to stay in the starting rotation. He kept asking for his release, but faded quietly to the end of his major-league career with a lifetime 127-118 record.

In 1989 no team would guarantee Andújar a major-league roster spot, so he stayed home in the Dominican until the Gold Coast Suns of the newly formed Senior League of Professional Baseball offered him an opportunity. Just before his 37th birthday, Andújar went 5-0 with a minuscule 1.31 ERA to earn an incentive-laden deal and invitation to spring training from the Montreal Expos. A gimpy leg and an abscessed tooth limited him to two appearances, however, and the Expos released him before Opening Day when he made it clear he wouldn’t pitch in the minors.

When Whitey Herzog became the California Angels’ senior vice president after the 1991 season, he hired Andújar as a scout, but the arrangement proved to be short-lived. The Angels weren’t willing to invest much in Latin scouting, and Andújar still wanted to pitch. Several teams expressed interest in signing him when he made a comeback attempt with the Estrellas in late 1993, but knee problems and a freak car accident convinced Andújar that he should retire once and for all after only two starts.

Andújar continued to help young players around San Pedro de Macoris, assisting the San Francisco Giants Dominican Summer Leaguers and the Estrellas, particularly when his old friend Arturo DeFreites was their skipper. The Chicago White Sox noticed his ability to help young pitchers and brought him to spring training one season, but he refused their offer of a job when he found out it would be at the expense of one of his friends. Instead Andújar coached informally, but consistently, and played softball to keep his swing in shape. Investments in a construction business, and later a trucking company, did little except drain his bank account, however. In 2003 Andújar returned to St. Louis for the first time in 15 years to throw out a ceremonial first pitch at Busch Stadium to a loud ovation. “I live in the Dominican, but my heart still is in St. Louis,” he said.16

Two years later, Major League Baseball made Andújar one of 15 finalists for a Latino Legends team that would be chosen through fan voting. He finished 10th among pitchers. Andújar’slast appearance at Busch came in 2007, for the 25th anniversary of the 1982 World Series champions. St. Louis Post-Dispatch columnist Rick Hummel described him as looking “smaller than we remembered him.”17

The Hall of Fame of San Pedro de Macoris inducted Andújar as a member in 2011, and the Caribbean Series made him a member of its Hall of Fame a year later. Andújar missed both ceremonies for undisclosed health reasons. The truth was that diabetes was taking a toll on “One Tough Dominican.” Andújar also went through a divorce, lost his big home and moved to an apartment in Santo Domingo, where he survived on his major-league pension.

Joaquín Andújar died on September 8, 2015. Many sports fans in the United States learned the news from the Instagram feed of Robinson Cano, the most prominent player from San Pedro de Macoris at the time. Cano called it a “big pain for all baseball fans, especially all Dominicans, but even more so for all of us who had the chance to know you and learn from your example.”

Just over a month before Andújar’s death, the Dominican Republic enjoyed a proud moment when Juan Marichal joined Pedro Martinez on stage at the latter’s induction ceremony at the National Baseball Hall of Fame. Two of the only three Dominicans with multiple 20-win seasons stood smiling and holding their country’s flag aloft. Precisely 15 years after Marichal’s last 20-win season, and 15 years before Martinez’s first, Andújar won 20 for the first of two consecutive years. “Andújar was in the middle of every dream I had because he was one of the best pitchers we ever had in the Dominican Republic,” remarked Martinez.18

Notes

1 Kenny Hand, “Andújar Gets Shot Against L.A. Tonight,” Houston Post, September 9, 1980: 2D.

2 Julio Gonzalez, “Joaquin: Facing the Future With a View from the Past,” Oakland A’s Magazine, Volume 6, Number 2: 14.

3 Gonzalez: 12.

4 Dave Pavlesic, interview with author, May 31, 2006.

5 The Sporting News, November 5, 1984: 49.

6 Duke De Luca, “Andújar Slows Down Phils,” Reading Eagle, June 30, 1973: 6.

7 Rick Hummel, “ Andújar’sSecret? Daddy Knows Best,” St. Louis Post-Dispatch, June 3, 1982.

8 Kenny Hand, “Ayyyayyaya, Joaquin. Andújar Makes Astros Happy with Jokes, Pitching,” Houston Post, May 22, 1977.

9 Steve Wulf, “Here’s a Hot Dog You’ve Got to Relish,” Sports Illustrated, January 24, 1983: 32.

10 Rick Hummel, “Andújar : God Is Still My Amigo,” St. Louis Post-Dispatch, July 22, 1983: B1.

11 Rick Hummel, “Sport Interview: Joaquin Andújar ,” Sport, September 1985: 27.

12 Rick Hummel, “Youneverknow What to Expect From Cards’ Ace,” The Sporting News 1985 Baseball Yearbook, 120.

13 Rick Hummel, “So Good … So Misunderstood,” The Sporting News, June 17, 1985: 3.

14 David H. Nathan, The McFarland Baseball Quotations Dictionary (Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland), 2000.

15 Neil Hohlfeld, “Could ‘Someone Big’ Be Out to Get Andújar ?” The Sporting News, June 27, 1988: 21.

16 Rick Hummel, “ Andújar’sHeart Remains in St. Louis,” St. Louis Post-Dispatch, July 26, 2003.

17 Derek Goold, “Colorful Cardinals Ace Andújar Dies,” St. Louis Post-Dispatch, September 8, 2015.

18 Joey Nowak, “Former All-Star Pitcher Joaquin Andújar Dies,” mlb.com, September 8, 2015. mlb.com/news/joaquin-Andújar -dies-at-62/c-148062060.

The younger Aparicio was much more than an outstanding baseball player whose endurance, defense, and speed during an 18-year old major-league career earned him a spot in baseball’s Hall of Fame. He was a symbol of the growth and development of the game of baseball in Latin America — specifically in Venezuela and in his hometown of Maracaibo. Aparicio’s place among the greatest players in baseball signified the climax of a cycle of progress for the game of baseball, which has become the national sport of Venezuela and an intrinsic part of its cultural heritage.

To fully understand the significance, impact, and legacy of Aparicio’s career, one needs to take a journey back into the first steps of the game in Maracaibo.

The emergence of baseball in Maracaibo began around the turn of the 20th century when an American businessman, William Phelps (who later became a media mogul and philanthropist), opened the first department store in town, the American Bazaar. While he imported baseball equipment from the United States, he also saw the need for educating local children about the game in order to sell his merchandise. Phelps became a baseball enthusiast and taught schoolkids the rules of the game, which they quickly understood. He served as the first umpire of documented games and built the first baseball field in the coastal city of Maracaibo.

From the sport’s inception around 1912, baseball quickly became a favorite pastime of people of all classes. Several fields were created throughout the small urban area, and both adults and children were fascinated with the sport. In just a few years, the game spread throughout the region and it was soon established as a professional game. People fell in love with the game, and were willing to gather and pay to watch the best players and teams. They called it “the game of the four corners.” The game of baseball had found its stage in the country.

Through the years, the region had a constant flow of American workers from oil companies who helped shape the identity of the city as well as the influence of American culture. Baseball was no exception. By 1926, a heated rivalry between Vuelvan Caras and Santa Marta was catching the attention of followers and local sports media. In fact, the first big hero of local professional baseball was a shortstop from Vuelvan Caras, Rafael “Anguito” Oliver. Early on, the media shone a spotlight on the role of the shortstop.

Oliver became an icon and two brothers were some of his biggest fans — Luis and Ernesto Aparicio Ortega. The Aparicio Ortega brothers (in the Latin American custom, they used their father’s and mother’s surname) were also natural athletes; Luis enjoyed soccer but ended up practicing baseball with Ernesto. Both became quality infielders. Luis, however, became the big star, the super athlete, while Ernesto, who had great playing tools, concentrated on learning the game as a science. He became a successful manager, coach, and team owner, transmitting his knowledge over generations.

Luis gained fame for his great plays and intelligence in the position of shortstop. He became a reference, a master, and a key player sought by many teams throughout the country. He played in both professional leagues in the country, in Caracas and Maracaibo. He became the first player “exported” from Venezuela when he signed with Tigres del Licey of the Dominican Republic in 1934.

Also in 1934, Ortega and his homemaker wife, Herminia Montiel, welcomed their son Luis Ernesto Aparicio Montiel. By the time Aparicio was born in Maracaibo on April 29, his father was shining as one of the first baseball superstars of Venezuela and Latin America. Ortega was an All-Star player and one the most famous players ever of Venezuelan baseball. “An artist in the shortstop position,” many called him.

Uncle Ernesto became a mentor to Luis. In Gavilanes, where his father also played, little Luis got his first job in baseball: batboy. His father and uncle taught him the secrets of the game. He also had the chance to learn from players of all nationalities, including Cuban, Dominican, and American players.

Baseball was his life. Aparicio recalls his mother washing baseball uniforms for his team and talking about baseball all day. From the age of 12, when he played shortstop for a team called La Deportiva, Aparicio displayed the grace and elegance he learned from his father. From then on, Aparicio was a member of several teams in Maracaibo, Caracas, and Barquisimeto. He was constantly moving with his family, depending on the time of year and which team his father was playing for.

That was his life: baseball, the stardom of his father, the knowledge of his uncle and whatever the game brought to the family table.

In 1953, Caracas hosted the Baseball Amateur World Series, and Luis Aparicio, then 19 years old, was selected to represent Venezuela. It was his first big tournament, and he played shortstop, third base, and left field. Although Cuba won the tournament, Aparicio was recognized both in the stands and in newspapers as the most electrifying player, who made great plays and showed security and maturity in all positions. Fans waved white handkerchiefs during this tournament, praising the teenager with great speed and a solid glove. All eyes were on him for the first time, but the name of his famous father would always be on his shoulders if he chose to be a professional player.

Soon after the Amateur World Series, the day arrived. Aparicio had to tell his parents he was quitting school to become a professional baseball player. His mother was not happy with the decision. His father, on the other hand, told him something that would stand out in his mind for the rest of his career. “Son, if you are going to play baseball for a living, you will have to be the number one always,” said his father. “You will never be a number two of anybody, always be the number one.”1

That winter, the best four teams in Venezuela played in the country’s first national tournament. The teams — Gavilanes and Pastora from Maracaibo, and Caracas and Magallanes from Caracas — rotated their games in four cities and it was the first tournament played under the umbrella of major-league baseball.

Aparicio signed with Gavilanes and his debut was scheduled for November 17, 1953, in Maracaibo. That day it rained, and his debut was postponed until the next day, November 18, which is a special holiday in Maracaibo. The city celebrates the day of its lady patron, the Virgin of Chiquinquirá, and festivities are held all around. Among them is the special baseball game between the crosstown rivals Pastora and Gavilanes.

Aparicio’s father, Ortega, who also played for Gavilanes, led off the game against Pastora’s Howie Fox, a major-league veteran. After the first pitch, Ortega went back to the dugout and pointed to his son with his bat, signaling it was time for Luis to take his father’s bat and replace him at home plate for his first official at-bat.

The crowd of 7,000 gave a 15-minute standing ovation to this simple but magical gesture. They were recognizing Ortega — known as “The Great of Maracaibo” — for his outstanding career, his talent as the best shortstop in Venezuelan baseball, for his dedication on the field, and for more than 20 years of contributing to the development of the game in Maracaibo. At the same time, people were showing Luis the huge burden he had on his shoulders for carrying his father’s name, and for the responsibility he had on the field from that moment.

Aparicio Jr., at 19 years old, understood the situation and embraced it with maturity. “I knew the responsibility on me. I knew about the expectations people had everywhere I stepped on a field. I just had to be great as my father, otherwise people would consider me a total deception,” he said in later years. “It was destiny.”2

Panorama, the local newspaper, wrote the next day: “Aparicio´s son’s debut was patronized by the Virgin herself.” For a very Catholic-religious region, this was a big deal.3

Aparicio ended up being named the best shortstop of the tournament. By December, the Cleveland Indians were negotiating with him. Gavilanes manager Red Kress, who was a coach for the Indians, spoke with general manager Hank Greenberg about signing Aparicio, but Greenberg replied that he thought Luis too small to play baseball. Chico Carrasquel, who was playing for Caracas and Chicago at the time, talked to Chicago White Sox general manager Frank Lane and told him about Luis, asking him to sign the youngster before someone else did. Caracas’s manager, Luman Harris, also talked to Lane. Soon after, Lane sent an offer and a contract for Aparicio with a $10,000 check. Young Luis became a member of the White Sox.

Aparicio’s days in the minor leagues were hard. His English was very limited. He knew he belonged in the majors, but the learning process was strict. Carrasquel was the big-league shortstop. After spring training in 1955, Aparicio was sent to Memphis in the Double-A Southern Association. He thought about going back to Venezuela and quitting the White Sox, but both his father and Carrasquel convinced the novice of his potential and explained to him the process of reaching the majors, a road even tougher for Latinos, especially in those years. Carrasquel, who was the big baseball idol in Caracas, became Aparicio’s mentor and a father figure for him. Aparicio also recalls meeting a singer that season in a small bar in Memphis, a young man named Elvis Presley.  

In October 1955, the White Sox traded Chico Carrasquel to the Cleveland Indians, leaving the door open for Aparicio. When Lane announced the trade, a Chicago journalist said: “You are trading your All-Star shortstop? You will need a machine to replace Chico.” Lane replied, “Yes, that’s precisely what we have — a machine, and his name is Luis Aparicio.”4

Aparicio was named the American League Rookie of the Year in 1956. He was the first Latin American player to win the award. He finished with a .266 batting average and a league-leading 21 stolen bases, and also led the league in sacrifice hits. The stolen base as a strategy was becoming less and less used in baseball in those years. Aparicio revived the essence of the stolen base from the moment he reached the majors. He injected the White Sox with the game of speed, the Caribbean game, where speed is a key. He was praised for his defense but during his first season had 35 errors.

Luis needed work on his throw. Venezuelan journalist Juan Vené, who covered Aparicio’s entire career, recalled, “Fans were afraid to sit behind first base and they were really aware of the throw every time Aparicio was fielding a grounder because the ball often ended into the stands.”5

His debut met everyone’s expectations at home, but he knew he needed to do more. After his first season, when he returned home with his wife, Sonia, Aparicio said, “By seeing how so many people have gathered to welcome me at the airport just to say hello and congratulations, it makes me realize that I still have a long way to go and a lot of work to do to go beyond their expectations. I need to put the name of my country and my people up high; I feel my game represents them.”6

In 1958, Aparicio won his first Gold Glove, was named to his first All-Star Game, hit .266, and led the league in stolen bases for the third consecutive year, with 29. Chicago ended up in second place for the second year in a row behind the Yankees. The situation in the American League was tough. The Chicago White Sox was an outstanding club but the Yankees were the Yankees, and in those years they simply dominated baseball. There were no playoffs. To go to the World Series they just needed to finish first in the American League. The White Sox needed to reach one more step, and they did it in 1959.

Dámaso Blanco, a former infielder for the San Francisco Giants, remembers 1959: “I went to Chicago in August 1959 with the Venezuelan baseball team for the Pan Am Games and they took us to Comiskey Park to watch the White Sox and Luis Aparicio. It was my first MLB game ever and I was very anxious. Aparicio hit a single on his first at-bat and we all noticed that people started to yell: ‘Go! Go! Go!’ At first we did not understand what was happening and then our guide explained people were actually rooting for Aparicio to steal second base. I can’t really describe how proud we felt listening to a full Comiskey Park rooting for a fellow Venezuelan and the team leader of the ‘Go Go White Sox.’ ”7

That season, the White Sox won 94 games and finally won the pennant. Among the keys to their success were Aparicio’s base-stealing skills and his defense along with his double play partner and close friend, Nellie Fox. For Chicago it was a magical era. It was their first trip to the World Series since 1919. This team was the complete opposite of the Black Sox. It was fun to watch. Aparicio remembers: “We were so close, like a family. We enjoyed our game and the fans of Chicago so much during 1959. Having guys in the team like Ted Kluszewski, Jim Rivera, Sherm Lollar, and Early Wynn was just amazing. We just had to win the league because we were good, having fun in the field, and playing very seriously.”8

Aparicio ended up second to his double-play partner Fox in the voting for the American League’s Most Valuable Player. He stole a career-high 56 bases that year. He realized no one in baseball was better than him at stealing. His speed was a key to victory. He led the team in runs with 98. “Before the season Al Lopez, our manager, told me he wanted me to focus on my base stealing,” Aparicio said long after his career ended. “They wanted me to spice things up in the club and that was going to be our key to win games that season.”9

After their great season, the White Sox lost the World Series to the Dodgers in six games. Aparicio hit .308 (8-for-26), and although he was thrilled to participate in the fall classic, he was deeply frustrated in not winning the Series. “The people were very excited in the city, because they waited 40 years to see their team in a World Series. They were disappointed, but at the same time they treated us like winners,”10 he recalled. This first trip to the Series made Aparicio realize how important it was to be a winner and how hard a team needed to work to win it all.

Hoping to return to the World Series in 1960, the White Sox instead slipped to third place. They fell to fourth place in 1961 and fifth in 1962. The Sox wanted to rebuild their team, and in January of 1963, Aparicio and veteran outfielder Al Smith were traded to the Baltimore Orioles for Ron Hansen, Pete Ward, Dave Nicholson, and Hoyt Wilhelm.

The trade was a jolt to Luis, but he was moving to a contending team built around a foundation of power and pitching. Aparicio added speed to the Baltimore lineup, winning two more stolen base titles in 1963-64 to give him nine consecutive seasons as the American League stolen base champion, an all-time record. More importantly, he helped solidify the Oriole defense. Luis and future Hall of Famer Brooks Robinson formed one of the best shortstop-third base combinations of all time.

In 1966, the Orioles won the American League pennant, and Aparicio once again faced the Dodgers in the World Series. Although his offense was not as solid as it was in 1959, he still contributed with four hits and great defense during the series, which the Orioles swept in four games. It was first and only championship ring of his career. He came back to Maracaibo as a hero, dedicating his part of the title to his parents, who were his biggest supporters.

In November of 1967, Luis was traded back to the White Sox. As a veteran player, he became the team leader and mentor. During his second stint in Chicago, his glove was still his great tool, though his speed was not the same. He worked on his offense and in 1970, at the age of 36, batted a career-high .313.

Before the 1971 season, Aparicio was traded to the Boston Red Sox and played with them for three more seasons. In two of them was he was selected to the All-Star Game. In 1973, at the age of 39, he batted .271 in 132 games and stole 13 bases in 14 attempts.

Vené remembers March 26, 1974: “Luis was in the Red Sox spring camp when he got the notice that he was being released. He wanted to play one more season; he was 40 and still felt he had it. When he went back to the hotel he had a letter from Yankees owner George Steinbrenner. It was an open contract that had a note saying: “You put in the amount to play for the New York Yankees.” 

Aparicio sent the envelope back with a note that said: “Dear Mr. Steinbrenner, thank you very much for your offer but I just get released once in my lifetime.”11 That was the end of Aparicio’s playing career. He went back to Maracaibo that day with his family.

From 1956 to 1973, no other shortstop was more dominant in his position than Luis Aparicio, who won nine Gold Gloves. He was a profound influence on the game during his era with his speed, helping to revive the stolen base as an offensive weapon. He was selected to 10 All-Star teams. He played in two World Series and won one, and he set the most significant personal record for himself: No player had played more games at his beloved position in the major leagues than he (2,583). (The record has since been broken by Omar Vizquel.) He finished his career with 2,677 hits, a .262 batting average and 506 stolen bases.

After 10 years of eligibility and a huge crusade by many Hispanic journalists pushing his candidacy for the Hall of Fame, he was elected to the Hall in 1984, becoming the first Venezuelan to ever receive this form of baseball immortality. “This is a triumph of Venezuela for all Venezuelans,” said Aparicio when he heard of his election.12

His biggest regret is that his father didn’t live long enough to see his son elected to the Hall of Fame. Luis Aparicio Ortega died on January 1, 1971. After his death he was honored with his election to the Hall of Fame of Venezuelan Sports. The Maracaibo baseball stadium was officially named Luis Aparicio Ortega “El Grande de Maracaibo.” After the creation of the Venezuelan Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum, the Aparicio Ortega brothers, Ernesto and Luis, were also inducted.

After retirement, Luis moved back to Venezuela and worked during the Venezuelan league in winter as manager. He managed Caracas, Zulia, Lara, La Guaira, Magallanes, and Cabimas. He was a celebrity and his retirement was not easy for him. They were hard times, not economically because he was very organized financially, but emotionally. He spent more time with his family and was part of many local projects of many kinds.

In the early 1980s he became a television commentator for Radio Caracas Television during the Venezuelan League. In fact, when he got the notice about his selection to Cooperstown, he was working with RCTV. Although he enjoyed it for a while, television was not his passion, but at least something to stay close to the game, if he was not managing.

In the 1990s Luis was back to the field with Tiburones de La Guaira in the winter league as a manager and coach. Aparicio moved to Barquisimeto. He enjoyed spending time with his family and especially his grandchildren and great-grandchildren. His family suffered a big setback when his daughter Sharon was the victim of a crime in Venezuela. After this incident, he concentrated even more on his family. He continued to enjoy and follow baseball and kept his participation in baseball and Hall of Fame events with the help of his son Nelson.

After his election to the National Baseball Hall of Fame, Aparicio’s status of celebrity increased greatly. He became known as the most important and influential Venezuelan athlete of all time, the most revered and followed. He also made several trips a year to the US to participate in autograph sessions, fan festivals and former player activities. He was a constant supporter of Hall of Fame gatherings, including All-Star games and Cooperstown induction weekends.

 His solid and impeccable image and personality caught the attention of ESPN International and ESPN Deportes who invited him as a special color analyst for the international broadcasts of Venezuelan baseball from 2011 to 2013, alongside veteran and famed Spanish-broadcasters such as Emmy-award winning Ernesto Jerez.

Aparicio has since become an active baseball follower and his voice is present through his social media accounts, where he has provided opinions and personals perspective of issues around baseball. Most notably in 2017 he was invited to participate in a ceremony honoring the Latino members of the Baseball Hall of Fame prior to the 2017 All-Star Game in Miami, Florida. Aparicio respectfully declined the invitation and publicly stated: “Thank you for the honor @mlb, but I cannot celebrate while the young people of my country are dying while fighting for freedom”13

Aparicio did not attend the 2017 Hall of Fame induction for the same reasons and actively became a strong opponent of Venezuelan dictator Nicolás Maduro and the regime that has ruled Venezuela since 1998.

Maracaibo still remembers every November 18 as part of the festivities around the Virgin holiday, the anniversary of Luis Aparicio’s debut. At the Aguilas del Zulia game, Aparicio has made the ceremonial first pitch. Every year the Luis Aparicio Award is given to the best Venezuelan player of the major-league baseball season. It was a tribute to his career and to the memory of his father.

In 2006 the Chicago White Sox unveiled the Luis Aparicio statue at the U.S. Cellular Field in the center-field concourse and created by artist Gary Tillery. Aparicio attended the event with Sonia celebrating 52 years of marriage and with his son Luis Jr and daughter Karen. The sculpture is part of a two-player series depicting Aparicio waiting to catch a ball from his longtime double-play partner Nelly Fox, whose widow, Joanne, also attended the ceremony. “This is my biggest moment in baseball. I thank the White Sox organization for giving me the opportunity to play baseball, and I thank God for giving me the ability to play this game. The only thing I can say is baseball is so much of me, I even met my wife playing baseball.”14

The 2014 season of the Venezuelan Winter League was played in honor to the 30^th anniversary of Aparicio’s induction to Cooperstown and he was honored at every ballpark of the league and the league reinforced and emphasized the biggest honor ever made to a Venezuelan baseball player: the retirement of his number 11 from every team in the country.

Much more than a great player, Aparicio was recognized as a great human being. Most people knew Luis for his playing feats, but ignored his great heart and family values. During his career the integrity he brought to the game was one of his strongest assets. He gave everything he had to win and help his teams. He played simultaneously for 19 years in Venezuelan baseball, doubling the amount of work year round. As a major-league player he played fewer than 130 games in a season only once.

Maybe his greater value was how he embraced and understood his position and his significance on and off the field for the people of Venezuela, a country filled with social problems that universally celebrates the achievements of its people. He was much more than an icon.

People always expected the best from him, and he gave nothing but the best both as a player and as a human being, working hard enough and using his abilities to be among the greatest players of all time. He had huge shoes to fill under the shadow of his father and he never let this issue pressure him during his life. Luis Aparicio assumed a social responsibility and went beyond expectations.

Aparicio was named the Athlete of the 20th Century in Venezuela. Beyond his recognition for being the best player ever born in the country, his integrity and family values always accompanied him. Moreover, he is the role model for future generations and the “godfather” of the dynasty of Venezuelan shortstops in the history of the major leagues. Panorama published a letter Aparicio sent to his mother in March 1956: “To Herminia de Aparicio, Maracaibo. Dear Mom: You are finally the mother of a big leaguer. Try to figure out what it means to me to become ‘a big leaguer.’ Today I’ve cried alone, when they told me they were sending my luggage to Chicago because I had made the big league team. Tears came out by themselves and I just thought about Dad. Mom, please tell Dad that my debt with him is finally paid. Kisses, your son, Luis.”15

Luis has said: “When my father asked me to be always a number one, I always kept that on my mind. I think I didn’t disappoint him. I wanted him to be proud of me, and I know he definitely was. That’s the achievement of my life.”16   

Last revised: January 23, 2018

An earlier version of this biography originally appeared in SABR’s “Go-Go To Glory: The 1959 Chicago White Sox” (ACTA, 2009), edited by Don Zminda.

Sources

In addition to the sources in the Notes, the author also consulted

Verde, Luis. The History of Baseball in Zulia (Maracaibo: Editorial Maracaibo SRL, 1999).

Perfiles: Luis Aparicio. ESPN International. 2002-2007. 

Author interviews with Luis Aparicio, Juan Vené, Dámaso Blanco, Angel Bravo. Luis Verde, Nelson Aparicio, and Rafael Aparicio.

¡A La Carga! Tripleplay Sports Productions, Maracaibo, Venezuela. Various televisión episodes 1998-2002.

www.eljuegoperfecto.com

www.baseball-reference.com

Notes

1 Author interview with Luis Aparicio, July 2008.

2 Aparicio interview.

3 Diario Panorama (Maracaibo, Venezuela), November 19, 1953.

4 Carlos Cárdenas Lares, Venezolanos en las Grandes Ligas (Caracas: Fondo editorial Cárdenas Lares, 1990), 78.

5 Author interview with Juan Vené, Cincinnati, August 2007.

6 Diario Panorama, October 10, 1956. 

7 Author interview with Dámaso Blanco, Cincinnati, August 2007.

8 Aparicio interview.

9 Ibid.

10 Ibid..

11 Vené interview.

12 Revista IND, Instituto Nacional de Deportes, Caracas, Venezuela. August 1984. 

13 Luis Aparicio, via Twitter, July 11, 2017.

14 Scott Merkin, “Aparicio, Fox honored with statues,” MLB.com, July 23, 2006.

15 Diario Panorama, March 2, 1956. 

16 Aparicio interview.

Salvatore Leonard Bando was born on February 13, 1944, in Cleveland. His parents were both athletic; Ben Bando, a self-employed carpenter, was an accomplished infielder in slow- and fast-pitch softball leagues. Mother Angela Bando, a homemaker and admitted tomboy, played softball and basketball. Sal and his younger siblings, Victoria and future big-league catcher Chris, grew up in middle-class Warrensville Heights, located about 16 miles southeast of Cleveland. Sal was an athletic youngster whose parents encouraged him to pursue his passions. “As soon as Sal was old enough to throw a ball,” said father Ben. “He’d say, ‘C’mon, dad, let’s play catch.’ I didn’t teach him. I just played with him and let him do what came naturally.”1 Sal was a star athlete at Warrensville Heights High School, where he was an All-City quarterback with aspirations of playing in the Big Ten Conference; he also played shortstop in baseball and forward in basketball, and ran track. During the summer Sal played baseball in the Connie Mack League, where he came under the tutelage of Rick Leskovec, a math instructor at Arizona State University and coach of the Go team. Lescovec moved Bando to third base and later recommended him to ASU head baseball coach Bobby Winkles who offered Bando a scholarship upon graduation in 1962.

Bando’s two-year baseball career at Arizona State signaled even greater things to come. As a sophomore in 1964 the strong-armed third baseman batted .347 and led the Sun Devils to the Western Athletic Conference Championship and the institution’s first berth in the College World Series. In 1965 the right-hander hit at a .317 clip, was named all-conference, and helped lead a talent-heavy team (nine players were drafted by the big leagues) to the WAC title and College World Series Championship. He batted .480 (12-for-25) with nine runs batted in the CWS and was named the tournament’s most outstanding player. (Bando was inducted into the College Baseball Hall of Fame in 2013.) The Kansas City Athletics drafted Bando in the sixth round in the inaugural major-league draft. He was signed by Athletics scout Henry Peters and received a reported $35,000 bonus.2

Bando progressed quickly through the Athletics farm system. In 1965 he was assigned to the Burlington (Iowa) Bees in the Class A Midwest League. In a half-season with the team, he was named to the league’s all-star team and batted .262. Bando was a nonroster invitee at the A’s spring training in 1966, but was among those cut early, and assigned to Mobile of the Double-A Southern League. The A’s praised Bando for his “truly spectacular arm” at third base, but were also concerned about his hitting.3 A spray hitter in college with little power, Bando improved his average to .277 at Mobile and showed some pop in his bat with 12 home runs. With the A’s en route to their 14th consecutive losing season, Bando was a September call-up, and went 0-for-3 against Jim Lonborg in a 7-0 loss to the Boston Red Sox in his major-league debut on September 3 at Kansas City’s Municipal Stadium. As a pinch-hitter, Bando collected his first hit (a single) off Clyde Wright of the California Angels on September 7. It was clear that Bando was the club’s third baseman of the future; the question was when the future began.

After another abbreviated spring training, Bando was assigned to the Vancouver Mounties of the Triple-A Pacific Coast League. On May 10 the A’s traded third baseman Ed Charles (who had occupied the hot corner since 1962), paving the way for Bando. Sal impressed with his defense, but struggled at the plate, hitting only .143 (9-for-63) in four weeks, and was sent back to Vancouver to iron out his hitting woes. “That was the first blow I’d ever had in baseball,” recalled Bando. “I was hurt that they thought I couldn’t play in the majors.”4 A’s manager Al Dark had instructed Bando to crouch in his batting stance, but Mounties manager Mickey Vernon suggested that the 24-year-old take a more natural approach and stand straighter to help extend his arms and open up his swing.5 Responding to Vernon’s mentorship, Bando batted. 291 and showed a discerning eye at the plate (.392 on-base percentage). He was named to the PCL All-Star second team and voted best defensive third baseman in a poll of league managers. Bando earned another September call-up and batted a more respectable. 239 (16-for-67), and finished with a .192 average and only five extra-base hits (no home runs) in 130 at-bats for both his stints in the majors. In preparation of a full season at third base, Bando was sent to Arecibo in the Puerto Rican winter league, where he was among the league’s hottest hitters, batting well over .300.

The A’s 13-year experiment in Kansas City came to a conclusion with the club’s move to Oakland in 1968. Excitement was palpable during spring training when “slugging sensation” Bando surprisingly walloped ten home runs.6 “Tabbed for greatness” (in the words of The Sporting News), Bando launched his first big-league home run in the second game of the season (a two-run shot off Phil Ortega in a 9-6 win over the Washington Senators), but didn’t hit another one until the 30th game. In the “Year of the Pitcher,” when AL batters hit a composite .230, Bando finished the season with a solid .251 batting average and nine home runs, and was second on the team with 67 runs batted in. More importantly, the A’s notched their first winning season since 1952.

Bando’s first full season revealed his durability (he played in 162 games) and aggressive, hard-nosed defensive play, which invited comparisons to the best third-sacker in the game. “He’s got his body moving forward,” said Bando of the difference between him and the Baltimore Orioles’ Brooks Robinson. “He keeps his hands up. I keep mine down. My glove’s webbing is touching the ground because I can bring my hands up [easier] instead of down.”7 Often described as stocky, the 6-foot-tall, 200-pound Bando may not have appeared as lithe and graceful as Robinson, and did not cover as much ground, but he made up for it with his quick release and hard throw to second and first base; and the ball typically had a low trajectory. “Bando has such a strong arm,” raved A’s beat reporter Ron Bergman writing for The Sporting News, “that he can run down the ball after taking it in the chest and get the runner out.”8 Although he never won a Gold Glove, Bando annually ranked in the top five in putouts, assists, and double plays.

Bando took full advantage of Major League Baseball’s decision to lower the pitching mound to ten inches in 1969 in an effort to stimulate offense by belting five home runs and driving in 17 runs in 19 games in April, including his career day at the plate (3-for-4 with two home runs, seven knocked in). Bando credited Joe DiMaggio (an A’s executive vice president and occasional bench coach in 1968 and 1969) for his improvement. Bando had a wide stance with his right foot placed at the back of the batter’s box; the Yankee Clipper suggested that he close his stance and keep his head down to generate more power.9 The results were immediate: by the All-Star break Bando had 18 home runs and 64 RBIs.

In what was described as the “biggest upset of the American League players’ voting,” Bando’s peers chose him over Robinson to start the Midsummer Classic in Washington.10 In the AL’s 9-3 loss, Bando smacked a single off Bob Gibson for his only hit in three at-bats. Bando slumped after the All-Star Game, but enjoyed the most productive month in his career in September (9 HRs and 29 RBIs in 30 games) to set career highs in home runs (31), runs batted in (113), hits (171), and runs (106). He also played in every inning of every game.

Pressure and increasingly high expectations came with the A’s new-found success. Manager Hank Bauer named Bando team captain in May 1969 to help the young team forge an identity, and he held the title throughout his tenure with the A’s. “[Bando] has capabilities of being a leader out there on the field,” said Bauer. “He deserves the job on the basis of baseball instinct and knowledge.”11 Just 25 years old, Bando got along with his teammates well, had earned their respect for his hustle and willingness to play through injuries, and put winning above personal statistics and fame, but was not a rah-rah type. “I was a leader by example not by talking,” said Bando later in his career. “You don’t tell a (Reggie) Jackson, a (Jim) Hunter, or a (Joe) Rudi what to do. You lead by example, by giving 100 percent, by giving a continuous effort. A successful individual is one who is dedicated, on and off the field.”12

With their fourth different Opening Day manager in four years, the A’s began the 1970 season edgy after Bando’s harsh contract negotiations with owner Charlie Finley and Reggie Jackson’s holdout. The poor start under John McNamara made clubhouse tensions even worse. Bando was the team’s hottest hitter through the All-Star break, almost replicating his numbers from the previous year (17 HRs and 56 RBIs), but the team languished in third place, 9½ games behind the Minnesota Twins. For the first time since 1957 fans voted for the position players at the All-Star Game. Bando was neither selected nor named by the coaching staff as a substitute. His “lack of recognition,” suggested The Sporting News, was a product of playing in Oakland and not in a traditional bastion of baseball.13 Despite Bando’s horrendous second half (just three home runs and 19 runs batted in 75 games), the A’s finished in second place.

The A’s had played sloppy, uninspired ball under McNamara; consequently, it was no surprise that he was replaced at the end of the season. The choice of his successor raised eyebrows and hopes: Dick Williams, who had transformed the hapless Boston Red Sox into the AL pennant winners in 1967. “We need a guy to kick us in the rear every now and then,” said Bando. “[Mac] said he just wasn’t the type to jump all over guys and we liked that. We knew if we made a mistake, it wouldn’t be too bad. But we didn’t learn from our mistakes; we didn’t take them seriously. I think that hurt us as the season wore on.”14 Williams arrived with a reputation as a tough-as-nails disciplinarian; players hoped he would stand up to Finley and his constant meddling.

In 1971 the A’s captured their first of five consecutive AL West crowns behind a nucleus of players who came up through the team’s farm system: Bando, Bert Campaneris, Joe Rudi, and Jackson, and pitchers Catfish Hunter, Vida Blue, and Rollie Fingers. Avoiding the Jekyll-and-Hyde act of the previous year, Bando had a consistent if not spectacular year, clouting 24 home runs and leading the team with 94 runs batted in. He finished second in MVP voting, behind teammate Blue. In their first postseason series since the franchise’s World Series loss in 1931 when they were still located in Philadelphia, the A’s lost three consecutive games to the Orioles in the ALCS. Bando was one of Oakland’s lone highlights, going 4-for-11 with a home run off Jim Palmer in Game Three, and scored three of the club’s seven runs.

Dick Williams and Bando developed a mutual trust and respect during the manager’s tumultuous three-year tenure (1971-1973) with the team. Bando often claimed that the A’s could win without the star players (Jackson, Hunter, and Blue), but not without Williams, who struck a visceral chord with the players. His intensity for winning, fundamentally sound baseball, and a team-first attitude matched Bando’s. In his autobiography, No More Mr. Nice Guy, Williams wrote, “[Bando was] the only player I ever socialized with. I’d invite him to my hotel suite after games or during an offday, and we’d just talk baseball. The rest of the team saw this and figured I must be all right.”15

Player salaries and pensions dominated offseason discussion and led to the first major-league-wide players strike in baseball history in 1972, the cancellation of 86 games, and a 13-day delay for Opening Day. While the A’s got off to a torrid start, Bando unexpectedly struggled offensively for most of the season, reaching bottom over a 25-game stretch in late August through mid-September when he hit just .141 (11-for-78); however, Williams considered Bando’s value to the team more than just with the bat and refused to bench him. “We can’t afford not to play Sal,” said Williams, whose team was in a fierce division race with the upstart Chicago White Sox in September.16 Bando finished with 15 home runs and led the team with 77 runs batted in, but his batting average dipped to .236.

The A’s defeated the Detroit Tigers in five games in the ALCS to set the stage for a World Series of polar opposites, dubbed the “Hairs vs. the Squares.” The outsized personalities of the “Swinging A’s” shunned baseball tradition by proudly sporting mustaches and beards (“We got a $300 bonus for growing a mustache,” said Bando)17 and faced the more traditional, clean-shaven, staid, and favorite Cincinnati Reds. The A’s overcame the absence of Jackson (who injured his hamstring in the ALCS) with the slugging of Gene Tenace (four HRs) and pitching brilliance. Bando (7-for-26 in the series) knocked in only one run, but it gave the A’s their third and final run in their 3-1 Game Seven victory.

Bando was an outspoken critic of Finley’s constant meddling in players’ matters and lives, the lack of a television contract to broadcast A’s games in the Bay area, and general fan apathy. “In another town, someplace back East, we might be heroes,” said Bando in May 1973. “Here we’re not even something special.”18 The A’s ranked eighth and 11th (among 12 AL teams) in attendance in 1973 and 1974 despite the championships while the Coliseum was derided as the “mausoleum” for its mortuary-like atmosphere. “The Oakland Coliseum is the worst park in baseball,” Bando said. “The weather is terrible, there’s too much room beyond the foul lines, the ball doesn’t travel well, the players lack good parking facilities, and the security for our families and ourselves is poor.”19

The A’s encountered a difficult adversary in the Kansas City Royals en route to their third consecutive AL West crown in 1973. They fell into second early in August, but the team’s sluggers and three 20-game winners (Ken Holtzman, Hunter, and Blue) proved too much for the inexperienced Royals. Bando was at his best during the last month of the season, batting .390 (39-for-100), scoring 26 times, and driving in 29 runs in 29 games. For the third of four times in his career, Bando led the league in games played (162), and also belted 29 home runs, knocked in 98 runs, and batted .287 to finish fourth in MVP voting. Bando socked two home runs and drove in three in Game Two of the ALCS against the Baltimore Orioles, but was otherwise quiet with the bat (3-for-18) in Oakland’s five-game victory.

The A’s exciting, yet emotionally draining World Series triumph over the New York Mets in seven games was overshadowed by Finley’s stifling control culminating with his attempt to have second baseman Mike Andrews declared medically unfit to play after he committed two costly errors in Oakland’s loss in Game Two, at home. Even before that incident Dick Williams informed the team of his plan to resign at the end of the season. Upon the team’s arrival in Game Three at Shea Stadium, Bando led an open revolt against Finley by suggesting that the team wear black armbands in Andrews’ honor. As the brouhaha escalated, Commissioner Bowie Kuhn intervened and denied Finley’s request to replace Andrews with Manny Trillo. “It’s been a long season,” said a depressed and mentally exhausted Bando after the A’s lost two of three in New York. “Guys are looking forward for it to end.”20 The A’s rode on the back of regular season and Series MVP Reggie Jackson to win Games Six and Seven and capture the title.

Bando’s offseason was marred by rumors of his impending trade and a bitter salary dispute ultimately settled by an arbitrator. “As the success of the team developed,” Bando said years later, “[Finley] became more difficult to deal with. He became an adversary of the players.”21 Reports that Bando would succeed Williams as manager incensed Finley, who named former A’s skipper Al Dark to pilot the team. Bando (and many teammates) were displeased with the choice, especially in light of Williams’s success and support of the players. Dark was seen as a company man, much like McNamara. Bando’s displeasure with Dark came to a head on June 19 when he said. “Dark couldn’t manage a flipping meat market” with his skipper standing behind him.22 They ultimately reconciled their relationship, and Bando accepted and respected Dark’s new-found sedate approach.23

While internal struggles threatened to consume the team, the A’s cruised to yet another AL West crown. “On a team in which trouble bubbles like a live volcano” wrote A’s beat writer Ron Bergman, “Bando, more than anyone else, keeps teammates relaxed and thinking about baseball.”24 Bando led the team with 103 runs batted in and belted 22 home runs. He was named to the All-Star Game for the third consecutive year, but did not play due to a foot injury. The star of the ALCS against the Orioles, Bando hit a home run off Jim Palmer in Game Three that accounted for the only run in a 1-0 victory; and he scored both of Oakland’s two runs in the deciding Game Four victory. The A’s defeated the prohibitive favorite Los Angeles Dodgers in five games in the World Series, but Bando’s bat was silent (1-for-16) though he scored a team-high three runs and drove in two. Bando was one of 13 A’s players who participated on all three championship teams.25

Bando’s relationship with Finley hit its nadir in the offseason when he filed for arbitration seeking a salary increase to $125,000. “[Bando is] a popoff and one of the worst fielding third baseman in baseball,” said Finley, taking his fight with Bando public.”26 After winning the arbitration hearing, Finley triumphantly announced, “There are too many players in baseball who want unjustified, astronomical salaries. It is my obligation to … stop these shenanigans.”27 Dark guided the A’s to their fifth consecutive AL crown, but Bando struggled all season at the plate. Batting just .198 with a month left on the season, Bando hit .354 in his final 29 games with 29 runs batted in to salvage his year. The A’s dynasty ended at the hands of the Boston Red Sox, who swept them in the best-of-five ALCS.

In his final season in Oakland, Bando was one of seven players (the others were Blue, Rudi, Don Baylor, Campanaris, Tenace, and Fingers) who refused to sign a contract in order to be declared free agents at the end of the season. Finley summarily cut their salary by the maximum 20 percent allowed, and declared his willingness to sell any of his unsigned players for one million dollars.28 Tempers came to a boil after Bowie Kuhn voided Finley’s sale of Rudi and Fingers to Boston and Blue to the Yankees at the June 15 trading deadline. Finley subsequently filed a lawsuit against Kuhn and refused to permit new skipper Chuck Tanner to play the three. “We went about ten days in June without them,” said Bando. “Finally I had to tell [Finley] that we were striking if he didn’t start using them. Marvin Miller (then executive director of the Players Association) called me and said, ‘Don’t walk out.’ But still we voted to walk out just before a game against Minnesota [on June 27] and were ready to forfeit it.”29 Sensing the gravity of the players’ threat, Finley acquiesced. Bando rebounded in 1976 to belt a team-high 27 home runs (second most in the AL) and knocked in 84 runs, but the A’s finished in second place.

Bando’s “value to the team transcends what he does on the field,” wrote Ron Bergman of the Oakland Tribune.30 In an offensively depressed era, Bando was extremely durable, averaging 156 games played, 23 home runs, and 90 runs batted in for the A’s from 1969 through 1976. Though he batted just .257, his on-base percentage (a statistic not as valued at the time) was .366. Advanced sabermetric statistical analysis may help shed light on just how valuable Bando was. In a five-year period (1969-1973), Bando’s WAR (33.6) was the highest in all of baseball, besting Joe Morgan, Johnny Bench, Reggie Jackson, and Pete Rose.31

Bando was granted free agency at the end of the 1976 season and signed a five-year contract worth a reported $1.5 million with the Milwaukee Brewers. Team president Bud Selig saw Bando as a veteran leader who could serve as a mentor to the young players and in the words of Milwaukee Sentinel writer Lou Chapman end the “loser image” of the team.32 After a sixth-place finish in Bando’s first season, the Brewers slugged their way to 93 wins in 1978 for the first of a franchise-record six consecutive winning seasons.

Bando contributed with 17 home runs and about 80 runs batted in each of his first two seasons while playing in excess of 150 games each year. After playing in 130 games and hitting just nine home runs in 1979, Bando was named player-coach for his last two seasons (1980 and 1981) while still occasionally playing third base and serving as designated hitter, but batted just .197 and .200 respectively. Bando enjoyed a last hurrah of sorts when the Brewers faced the New York Yankees in the 1981 League Division Series following the strike-shortened season. Starting at third base in all five games, Bando went 5-for-17 with three doubles in the team’s first-ever postseason appearance. He declined an invitation to return to the team in 1982 and concluded his 16-year big-league career with 242 home runs, 1,039 RBIs, and a .254 batting average in 2,019 games. In 44 postseason games he hit .245 (39-for-159) with five round-trippers and 13 runs batted in.

Bando was well-prepared to transition to life after his playing days were over. A constant source of support and grounding was his wife, the former Sandy Fortunato, a New Jersey resident he met while playing in the Puerto Rican winter league, and married in 1969. They had three sons, Sal Jr., Sonny, and Stefano. During his playing days, Sal had invested shrewdly, lived within his means, and regularly had offseason jobs, most notably as a sports radio host and in banking. In retirement he founded a successful investment company with former Milwaukee Bucks player Jon McGlocklin.

Financially secure, Bando served as special assistant to Brewers GM Harry Dalton from 1982 to 1991. It was a part-time position that allowed Bando to maintain his close ties to baseball and remain living in the Milwaukee area, where he had established firm roots. His primary responsibilities were to serve as a liaison between players and management, periodically visit minor-league affiliates, and offer insights about players and teams.

Bando was named the Brewers GM in October 1991 and served in that position until August 1999. During his eight years as GM, the team had only one winning season (1992). Operating in the smallest market in baseball, Bando and the Brewers struggled to field competitive teams as salaries skyrocketed throughout the decade, especially before Major League Baseball instituted revenue sharing in 1996 to stimulate competiveness. In a public-relations nightmare evoking memories of Charley Finley, Bando allowed fan favorite Paul Molitor to depart via free agency after the 1992 season. Robin Yount retired the following season leaving a void in team leadership. Dale Hoffmann of the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel wrote, “When mediocrity becomes not so much a goal, as a dream, it takes more than a stern lecture from a new voice to correct the problem.”33 Bando was replaced by Dean Taylor, but the Brewers waited eight more years before their next winning season, in 2007.

As of 2013 Bando lived with his wife in the Milwaukee and Phoenix areas. He was the CEO of Middletown Doll Company, which had a host of investment businesses associated with it. Though he no longer had formal ties to any professional baseball team, the 69-year old Bando remained close to the game as a fan.

Bando died on January 20, 2023 at his home in Oconomowoc, Wisconsin, after a battle with cancer. He was 78 years old. 

Sources

Newspapers

Chicago Tribune

Cleveland Plain Dealer

Milwaukee Journal

Milwaukee Sentinel

Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel

New York Times

Oakland Tribune

The Sporting News

Radio Interviews

With John Lund and Greg Papa on July 15, 2013, for 95.7 FM (San Francisco): media.957thegame.com/a/78170288/sal-bando-looks-back-on-his-time-with-the-a-s-in-the-70s.htm

With Jimmy Scott for Jimmy Scott’s High and Tight: http://www.jimmyscottshighandtight.com/node/118

With Thetford and Ashby for 104.3 FM (Lubbock, Texas): doublet1043.com/content/thetfordashby/story/Sportstalk-Interview-Sal-Bando/KGBGqfQsP0C_Vf3DwcI5Qg.cspx

Other

Sal Bando player file, National Baseball Hall of Fame, Cooperstown, New York

Notes

1 Hal Lebovitz, “Hal asks: What’s behind a big leaguer?,” The Plain Dealer (Cleveland), April 4, 1982, [no page]. Player’s Hall of Fame file.

2 Ed Leavitt, “The Year of the Mule,” Oakland Tribune, August 30, 1971, 58.

3 The Sporting News, September 24, 1966, 16.

4 The Sporting News, March 30, 1968, 6.

5 Ibid.

6 The Sporting News, April 13, 1968, 44.

7 The Sporting News, July 27, 1968, 5

8 The Sporting News, July 27, 1968, 5.

9 The Sporting News, June 14, 1969, 4.

10 Ron Bergman, “Stars Will Gaze at Reggie, Sal,” Oakland Tribune, July 10, 1969, 37.

11 “Capt. Bando Takes Duty in Stride,” Oakland Tribune, June 1, 1969, 3C.

12 “Bando. Looking Forward to ‘78 Season Following Hectic First Year With Club,” Brewers Scorebook, 1978, 11.

13 The Sporting News, July 11, 1970, 19.

14 The Sporting News, December 12, 1970, 56.

15 Dick Williams, No More Mr. Nice Guy quoted from Bill James, The New Bill James Historical Baseball Abstract (New York: Free Press, 2001), 548.

16 The Sporting News, September 23, 1972, 7.

17 The Sporting News, February 24, 1973, 41.

18 The Sporting News, May 26, 1973, 20.

19 Ibid.

20 Ron Bergman, “Depressed A’s Face Met ‘Believers,’,” Oakland Tribune, October 10, 1973, 13E.

21 Interview with Jimmy Scott for Jimmy Scott’s High and Tight. jimmyscottshighandtight.com/node/118.

22 Ron Bergman, “Sal Says Dick Can’t Manage,” Oakland Tribune, June 20, 1974, E37.

23 Dark was a hot-headed manager with the A’s in the late 1960s; however, when he returned to the club in 1974 his personality had changed radically. A self-described born-again Christian, Dark was no longer the screaming, tantrum-throwing firebrand. He openly talked about Christianity. Bando credited Dark with leading him to his religious awakening (Sal Bando, “The Big Slump,” Guideposts, July 1980).

24 The Sporting News, May 18, 1974, 23.

25 The 13 players who were on all three World Series teams are Sal Bando, Vida Blue, Bert Campaneris, Rollie Fingers, Dick Green, Ken Holtzman, Catfish Hunter, Reggie Jackson, Darold Knowles, Angel Mangual, Blue Moon Odom, Joe Rudi, and Gene Tenace; Knowles did not pitch in the 1972 or 1974 World Series, and Jackson did not play in the 1972 World Series.

26 “Bando is Worst Fielding 3rd Baseman in Baseball,” (Associated Press) Sarasota Herald-Times, February 17, 1975, 2-C.

27 “Charley’s Happy to Beat the Band-o,” (Associated Press), Binghamton (New York) Press, February 20, 1975, 9-B.

28 The Sporting News, July 3, 1976, 8.

29 Sid Bordman, “Sal Bando says A’s glory days should have been even better,” Kansas City Star [no date]. Player’s Hall of fame file.

30 The Sporting News, September 14, 1974, 21.

31 Wins Above Replacement, an advanced sabermetric statistic, presents, in the form of a single number, the number of wins the player added to the team above what a replacement player (e.g., Triple-A player) would add.

32 The Sporting News, March 5, 1977, 20.

33 Dale Hofmann, “Hold the door open for Bando,” Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel, August 12, 1999 [no page]. Player’s Hall of Fame file.

Don Baylor was a hustling player who ran the bases aggressively and stood fearlessly close to home plate as if he were daring the pitcher to hit him. Quite often they did, as Baylor was plunked by more pitches (267) than any other player in the 20th century, leading the American League eight times in that department and retiring as the category’s modern record-holder (though he’s since been passed by Craig Biggio). Notoriously tough, Baylor wouldn’t even acknowledge the pain of being hit, refusing to rub his bruises when he took his base. “Getting hit is my way of saying I’m not going to back off,” he explained. “My first goal when I go to the plate is to get a hit. My second goal is to get hit.”1

Baylor played for seven first-place teams in his 19 seasons and was a respected clubhouse leader, earning Manager-of-the-Year recognition in his post-playing career. The powerfully built 6-foot-1, 195-pounder hit 338 home runs and drove in 1,276 runs, and clicked on all cylinders when he claimed the AL Most Valuable Player award in 1979. Not only did he lead the California Angels to their first-ever playoff appearance by pacing both leagues in both runs scored and RBIs, he proved unafraid to kick 30 or so reporters out of the clubhouse. After a critical loss in Kansas City late in that season’s pennant race, the press corps made the mistake of asking losing pitcher Chris Knapp about a “choke” within earshot of Baylor, who promptly ordered them to leave.

Baylor broke into the majors with the Baltimore Orioles when the Birds were in the midst of winning three straight pennants. The Baltimore players policed their own clubhouse with a “kangaroo court” that handed down a stinging but good-natured brand of justice for a variety of on- and off-field infractions. Before he’d even played in the majors, a 20-year-old Baylor ran afoul of the court by predicting — even though the Orioles had a trio of All-Star outfielders plus skilled reserve Merv Rettenmund — “If I get into my groove, I’m gonna play every day.” Court leader Frank Robinson read the quote aloud in the Baltimore clubhouse, and shortstop Mark Belanger warned Baylor, “That’s going to stick for a long time.” Indeed, Baylor was known as Groove in baseball circles even after he retired.2

Don Edward Baylor was born on June 28, 1949, in the Clarksville section of Austin, Texas. His father, George Baylor, worked as a baggage handler for the Missouri Pacific Railroad for 25 years, and his mother, Lillian, was a pastry cook at a local white high school. Don had two siblings, Doug and Connie, and going to church on Sundays was a must in the Baylor family.

Baylor was one of just three African-American students enrolled at O. Henry Junior High School when Austin’s public schools integrated in 1962. One of the friends he made was Sharon Connally, the daughter of Governor John Connally, and Baylor would never forget hearing her screams from two classrooms away when Sharon learned over the school’s public-address system that her father had been shot along with President John F. Kennedy on November 22, 1963.

At Stephen F. Austin High School, Baylor had to ask the football coach three times for a tryout, but by his senior year he had made honorable mention all-state and got a half-dozen scholarship offers, including ones from powerhouses like Texas and Oklahoma. Baylor also played baseball, as a sophomore becoming the first African-American to wear the school’s uniform, and being named team captain for his senior season. After a tough first year under a coach who wasn’t accustomed to dealing with blacks, Baylor benefited when a strict disciplinarian named Frank Seale, who believed in playing the game the right way, took over the program for his last two seasons. “Frank was not only my coach, but my friend,” said Baylor. “He looked after me and made me feel like I was part of his family.”3 When Baylor finally got to the World Series two decades later, Frank Seale was there.

After suffering a shoulder injury serious enough to inhibit his throwing for the rest of his career, Baylor decided to spurn the gridiron scholarship offers and pursue a career in professional baseball. Some teams, like the Houston Astros (who opted to draft John Mayberry instead), were scared off by Baylor’s bum shoulder, but the Baltimore Orioles selected him with their second choice in the 1967 amateur draft. Scout Dee Phillips signed Baylor for $7,500.

Baylor reported immediately to Bluefield, West Virginia, where he wasted no time earning Appalachian League player-of-the-year honors after leading the circuit in hitting (.346), runs, stolen bases, and triples under manager Joe Altobelli. “Alto taught me the importance of good work habits,” Baylor recalled. “He was a tireless worker himself, serving as manager, batting-practice pitcher, third-base coach, and, when you got right down to it, a baby sitter.”4

The 1968 season started with a lot of promise. In 68 games for the Class-A Stockton Ports, Baylor smashed California League pitching at a .346 clip to earn a promotion to the Double-A Elmira Pioneers of the Eastern League. He stayed there only six games, batting .333, before moving up to the Triple-A Rochester Red Wings. In 15 games against International League pitchers, Baylor batted only .217 and was benched for the first time in his life by manager Billy DeMars. “I felt frustration for the first time in my career,” Baylor admitted. “Maybe DeMars hated young players, period. I also noticed that his favorite targets were blacks like Chet Trail, Mickey McGuire, and a guy from Puerto Rico named Rick Delgado. I felt that DeMars did not have my best interests at heart. I was trying very hard to learn, but I got nothing from him.”5

Nonetheless, the Orioles invited Baylor to his first big-league spring training in 1969, and he got to meet his role model, Frank Robinson. Soon, Baylor was even using the same R161 bat (taking its model number from Robinson’s first MVP season in 1961) that the Orioles right fielder did so much damage with. With it, Baylor began the season by hitting .375 in 17 games for the Class A Florida Marlins of the Florida State League. He spent the bulk of the year with the Double-A Dallas-Fort Worth Spurs, hitting .300 in 109 games to earn a Texas League All-Star selection.

After a strong spring training with the Orioles in 1970, Baylor returned to Rochester to bat third and play center field every day. Midway through the season, he reluctantly moved to left field because manager Cal Ripken believed Baylor’s weak arm would prevent him from handling center in the majors. Baltimore’s Merv Rettenmund insisted that Baylor remained a triple threat. “He can hit, run, and lob,” quipped the Orioles outfielder.6 Pretty much everything else that happened that season, however, couldn’t have been scripted more perfectly for Baylor. He was married before a summer doubleheader, and tore through the International League by leading all players in runs, doubles, triples, and total bases. The Sporting News recognized Baylor as its Minor League Player of the Year. He batted .327 with 22 home runs and 107 RBIs, and was called up to the Orioles on September 8. Ten days later, Baylor made his major-league debut at Memorial Stadium in Baltimore, batting fifth and playing center field against the Cleveland Indians. The bases were loaded for his first at-bat, against right-hander Steve Hargan, and Baylor admitted feeling “scared to death.”7 He didn’t show it, though, driving the first pitch into right field for a two-run single. In 17 at-bats over eight games, Baylor batted .235.

After the 1970 season Baylor went to Puerto Rico to play for the Santurce Crabbers in the winter league. The manager was Frank Robinson. “There I would get to know Frank even better because he was my manager and hitting guru,” Baylor remembered. “Mostly he taught me to think while hitting. He would say, ‘A guy pitches inside, hit that ball right down the line. Look for certain pitches on certain counts.’ Frank also wanted me to start using my strength more. Frank knew there was a pull hitter buried somewhere inside me and fought to develop that power. In Santurce, Frank worked with me to strengthen my defense and throwing. I wound up hitting .290.”8

With nothing left to prove in Triple-A but no room on the star-studded Orioles roster, Baylor returned to Rochester in 1971 and made another International League All-Star team. He put up strong all-around numbers, hitting .313 with 31 doubles, 10 triples, 20 homers, 95 RBIs, 104 runs scored, 79 walks, and 25 steals as the Red Wings won the Little World Series. The Triple-A playoffs went on so long that Baylor got into just one major-league game after they finished.

He returned to Santurce with the island still celebrating Roberto Clemente’s MVP performance in the 1971 World Series, in which he helped the Pittsburgh Pirates dethrone the Orioles. “When Roberto played in Puerto Rico that winter I got a chance to witness up close what a great player he was,” Baylor recalled. “In a game against Roberto’s San Juan team, I tried to score from second base on a hit to right. I know I had the play beat. I ran the bases the right way; made the proper turn, cut the corner well. But by the time I started my fadeaway slide catcher Manny Sanguillén had the ball. I couldn’t believe it. I was out.”9

Baylor wound up hitting .329 to win the Puerto Rican League batting title. He was confident that he’d be on some team’s major-league roster in 1972, but was shocked when the Orioles cleared a spot for him by dealing away Frank Robinson before Baylor returned from Latin America. The Orioles effectively had four regular outfielders in 1971 (Robinson, Merv Rettenmund, Paul Blair, and Don Buford), so Baylor still had some competition in front of him.

Baylor got into 102 games with an Orioles team that missed the playoffs for the first time in four years. By hitting .253 with 11 home runs and 24 steals, he was named to the Topps Rookie Major League All-Star Team. He became a father when Don Jr. was born shortly after the season ended. Baylor came back from Puerto Rico to get his son, before the family returned to the island together to help him get ready for the next season.

Much like the Orioles, Baylor started slowly in 1973, but heated up when it mattered most. Baltimore was in third place in mid-July, and Baylor was batting just .219 with four homers in 219 at-bats. Starting on July 17, though, he mashed at a .366 clip the rest of the way, contributing seven home runs and 30 RBIs as the Orioles played .658 ball and won the American League East title going away. Baylor batted .273 in his first taste of playoff action before sitting out a shutout loss to Catfish Hunter in the Series’ decisive Game Five.

He played enough to qualify for the batting title for the first time in 1974, batting a solid .272 when the average American Leaguer hit 14 points less. The Orioles were eight games out on August 28, in fourth place, when Baylor and the team caught fire again for another furious finish. Baylor batted .381 as the Birds went 28-6 to finish two games ahead of the Yankees before losing in four games to the Oakland A’s in the American League Championship Series.

Baylor joined the Venezuelan League Magallanes Navigators that winter, displaying good patience and power with seven homers, 32 RBIs, and 29 walks in 56 games while batting .271. When major-league action got underway in 1975, Baylor’s talents continued to blossom. He hammered three home runs in a game at Detroit on July 2, and smacked 25 overall. That made the league’s top 10, and his .489 slugging percentage was also among the leaders. With 32 stolen bases, Baylor cracked the AL leader board for the fourth of what would eventually be six consecutive seasons. Though the Orioles finished second to the Red Sox, Baylor’s name appeared towards the bottom of some writers’ MVP ballots. He was only 26 and going places, just not where he imagined.

Just a week before Opening Day in 1976, Orioles manager Earl Weaver pulled Baylor out of an exhibition game unexpectedly. “When he told me to sit beside him I knew something was wrong, Baylor recalled. ‘I hate to tell you this,’ Earl said quietly, ‘but we just traded you to Oakland for Reggie Jackson.’ I looked at Earl but he couldn’t look at me. I was stunned. I started to cry right there on the bench. ‘Earl,’ I sobbed. ‘I don’t want to go anywhere.’”10 Weaver believed Groove would one day be an MVP, but the Orioles sent him packing in a six-player deal to land a guy who’d already won the trophy. Other than a career-high four stolen bases on May 17, and his best season overall for swipes with 52, the highlights were few and far between for Baylor in 1976. He didn’t hit well at the Oakland Coliseum, and batted just .247 with 15 homers overall. On November 1, Baylor became part of the first class of free agents after the arbitrator’s landmark decision invalidated baseball’s reserve clause.

Just over two weeks later, Baylor signed a six-year, $1.6 million deal with the California Angels, but he struggled to justify his salary for the first half of 1977. When manager Norm Sherry got the axe midway through the season, Baylor was hitting a paltry .223 with nine home runs and 30 RBIs. Dave Garcia took over as skipper, and hired Baylor’s ex-teammate Frank Robinson as his hitting instructor. Under the Hall of Famer’s tutelage, Baylor broke out to bat .281 with 16 homers and 75 RBIs the rest of the way. He never looked back.

Baylor finished seventh in American League MVP voting in 1978 after a breakout season that saw him smash 34 home runs, drive in 99 runs, and score 103. The surprising Angels logged their first winning season in eight years and remained in the West Division hunt until the final week, but Baylor will always remember that September for one of his saddest days as a ballplayer. Teammate Lyman Bostock made the last out of a critical one-run loss on September 23 in Chicago, then stormed by Baylor ranting and raving before exiting the clubhouse after a fast shower. “Veterans know enough to leave other veterans alone,” Baylor said. “So when Lyman walked by, I didn’t say a thing. I didn’t know there would be no next time for him.”11 Bostock was shot to death that night in Gary, Indiana. The career .311 hitter was only 27.

Baylor propelled the Angels to their first playoff appearance in franchise history in 1979, batting cleanup in all 162 games and earning 20 of a possible 28 first-place votes to claim MVP honors. His totals of 139 RBIs and 120 runs scored led the major leagues, and he added career bests in home runs (36), on-base percentage (.371), slugging percentage (.530), and walks (71) while striking out just 51 times. He batted .330 with runners in scoring position. Baylor struggled while battling tendinitis in his left wrist in June, but sandwiched that down spell with player-of-the-month performances in May and July. He earned his only All-Star selection, starting in left field, batting third, and getting two hits with a pair of runs scored. In his first at-bat, he pulled a run-scoring double off Phillies southpaw Steve Carlton. On August 25 at Toronto, Baylor logged a personal-best eight RBIs in one game as the Angels romped, 24-2.

In the 1979 playoffs, Baylor and the Angels met the same Baltimore Orioles club that developed him, but a storybook ending was not in the cards. Though Baylor went deep against Dennis Martinez in California’s Game Three victory, he batted just .188 as the Angels lost three games to one.

As wonderful as 1979 played out, the 1980 season was a nightmare. The Angels started slowly, and were buried by a 12-28 stretch during which Baylor missed nearly seven weeks with an injured left wrist. He struggled mightily when he returned, batted just .250 with five homers in 90 games, and missed most of the last month with an injured right foot. The Angels went from division champions to losers of 95 games. The next season, 1981, Baylor became almost exclusively a designated hitter, and remained one for the balance of his career. Though he batted a career low (to that point) .239, his totals of 17 homers and 66 RBIs each cracked the American League’s top 10 in the strike-shortened season.

In 1982 Baylor homered 24 times and drove in 93 runs as the Angels made their second postseason appearance in what proved to be his last season with California. After beating the Brewers in the first two games of the best-of-five Championship Series, the Angels dropped three straight and were eliminated. It certainly wasn’t Baylor’s fault; he batted .294 and knocked in 10 runs in the series.

Baylor became a free agent for the second time in November 1982, and signed a lucrative deal to join the New York Yankees. In three seasons with the Bronx Bombers, he was twice named the designated hitter on The Sporting News’ Silver Slugger team (1983 and 1985), and averaged 24 home runs and 88 RBIs. His batting average declined from a career-best .303 to .262 to .231, however, and they were not particularly happy years as Baylor feuded with Yankees owner George Steinbrenner. In 1985 Baylor was selected as the winner of the prestigious Roberto Clemente Award, presented annually to a major leaguer of exceptional character who contributes a lot to his community. He was recognized for his work with the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation and the 65 Roses (so-named for the way one child pronounced Cystic Fibrosis) club.

The Yankees traded Baylor to the Boston Red Sox shortly before Opening Day in 1986 for left-handed-hitting designated hitter Mike Easler. Though Baylor struck out a career-high 111 times and managed to bat just .238 in ’86, his 31 home runs and 94 RBIs were his best since his MVP year. He also established a single-season record by getting hit by pitches 35 times. The Red Sox won 95 games to beat out the New York for the American League East title, with Baylor operating a kangaroo court as his mentor Frank Robinson had done in Baltimore. On the night Roger Clemens set a major-league record by striking out 20 Seattle Mariners, Baylor fined him $5 for giving up a single to light-hitting Spike Owen on an 0-2 pitch. In the American League Championship Series, against the Angels, Boston was two outs from elimination in Game Five when Baylor smashed a game-tying, two-run home run off 18-game winner Mike Witt to spark an amazing comeback. Baylor batted .346 in the seven ALCS games, but started only three of seven World Series contests against the New York Mets as designated hitters were not used in the National League ballpark. This time the Red Sox let a Series clincher slip away, losing to New York in seven games.

Baylor turned 38 in 1987, and he posted the lowest power totals since his injury-plagued 1980 campaign, declining to 16 homers and 63 RBIs. He did reach a milestone on June 28, his 38th birthday, when he was hit by a pitch for a record 244th time. “Change-ups and slow curves feel like a butterfly, a light sting,” he said. “Fastballs and sliders feel like piercing bullets, like they’re going to come out the other side.”12 He added that getting hit in the wrist by a Nolan Ryan heater in 1973 was the worst feeling of all.

The Minnesota Twins, making a surprising playoff run, craved Baylor’s right-handed bat and presence and acquired him from the Red Sox for the final month of the 1987 season. Baylor batted .286 to help Minnesota reach the postseason for the first time in 17 years, and his eighth-inning pinch-hit single drove in the go-ahead run in Game One of the ALCS against the Tigers. Baylor batted .385 in the World Series against the St. Louis Cardinals, including a game-tying two-run homer off John Tudor in Game Six, helping the Twins to a comeback victory en route to the title.

Baylor wrapped up his playing career with a return to the Oakland Athletics in 1988. Though he batted just .220 in 92 games, the club won 104 regular-season contests and became the third American League pennant winner in a row to feature Baylor on its roster. Oakland defeated the Red Sox in the ALCS but lost the World Series to the Los Angeles Dodgers in an upset, and Baylor struck out against National League Cy Young winner Orel Hershiser in his only at-bat. In the offseason Baylor called it a career after 2,135 hits with a .260 batting average, 338 home runs, and 1,276 RBIs. He stole 285 bases and was hit by a pitch 267 times.

Baylor returned to the big leagues for a two-year stint as the Milwaukee Brewers’ hitting coach beginning in 1990, and spent 1992 in the same role with the Cardinals. In 1993 he was named the inaugural manager of the expansion Colorado Rockies, and earned Manager-of-the-Year honors in 1995 when he led the third-year club to a playoff berth faster than any previous expansion club. Pitching coach Larry Bearnarth observed, “He doesn’t lose his cool very often. On the other hand, he can be intolerant sometimes of people who don’t give their best. He is very direct and he never varies from that, so players are never surprised. If he has something to say, he just says it like he’s still a player, like players used to do to each other.”13

Baylor’s Rockies played winning baseball for two more years, but he was fired after the club fell under .500 and slipped to fourth place in the five-team division in 1998. He turned down an offer to become a club vice president, instead opting to become a hitting coach again with the Atlanta Braves. After earning rave reviews for helping Chipper Jones develop into an MVP candidate, Baylor got another chance to manage in 2000 with the Chicago Cubs. Despite 88 wins and a surprising third-place finish in his second year in Chicago, Baylor was fired after a Fourth of July loss in 2002 with a disappointing, highly-paid club sputtering in fifth place. Overall, he went 627-689 as a major-league manager.

Baylor resurfaced with the Mets the next two seasons, serving as a bench coach and hitting instructor under Art Howe, while battling a diagnosis of multiple myeloma. When the Mets changed managers, Baylor moved to Seattle in 2005 to work with Mariners batters. In 2007 he worked part time as an analyst on Washington Nationals telecasts. After three years out of a major-league uniform, Baylor returned to the Rockies in 2009 as their hitting coach, before moving on to hold the same role with the Arizona Diamondbacks (2011-12).

The Angels brought him back in 2014, but he suffered a freak fracture of his right femur on Opening Day catching the ceremonial first pitch from Vladimir Guerrero, at the time the only other Angels player to win a MVP award.  Baylor came back to serve through the end of the 2015 season before settling into retirement with his second wife, Becky, who he’d married in 1987.

On August 7, 2017, Baylor died from complications in his 14-year battle with multiple myeloma. He was 68. Frank Robinson, Bobby Grich and writer Tracy Ringolsby spoke at his funeral before he was laid to rest at Texas State Cemetery in Austin. 

This biography originally appeared in “Pitching, Defense, and Three-Run Homers: The 1970 Baltimore Orioles” (University of Nebraska Press, 2012), edited by Mark Armour and Malcolm Allen. An updated version appears in “The 1986 Boston Red Sox: There Was More Than Game Six” (SABR, 2016), edited by Bill Nowlin and Leslie Heaphy, and “Major League Baseball A Mile High: The First Quarter Century of the Colorado Rockies” (SABR, 2018), edited by Bill Nowlin and Paul T. Parker.

Last revised: October 3, 2022 (zp)

Sources

In addition to the sources cited in the Notes, the author also consulted:

Daniel Gutiérrez, Efraim Alvarez, and Daniel Gutiérrez hijo, La Enciclopedia del Béisbol en Venezuela (Caracas, 2006).

Craig Neff, “His Honor, Don Baylor,” Sports Illustrated, June 16, 1986.

Notes

1 Jack Friedman, “For Don Baylor, Baseball Is a Hit or Be Hit Proposition,” People, August 24, 1987. 

2 Don Baylor, Nothing But The Truth: A Baseball Life (New York: St. Martins Press, 1990), 47.

3 Baylor, Nothing But The Truth, 32.

4 Baylor, Nothing But The Truth, 38-39.

5 Baylor, Nothing But The Truth, 44-45.

6 Detroit Free Press, March 4, 1980: 42.

7 Baylor, Nothing But The Truth, 52.

8 Baylor, Nothing But The Truth, 60.

9 Baylor, Nothing But The Truth, 68.

10 Baylor, Nothing But The Truth, 80.

11 Baylor, Nothing But The Truth, 125.

12 Friedman, “For Don Baylor.”

13 Howard Blatt, “Ultimate Player’s Manager Baylor is Tough But Fair With Rockies,” New York Daily News, July 15, 1995.

Of German descent, Beckert graduated in 1958 from Perry High School in Pittsburgh,1 where he made All-City teams in basketball and baseball (He also played football in high school).2 He graduated from Allegheny College in 1962 with a degree in political science and played for Bob Garbark, who from 1934-1945 saw time with four teams in the majors, including two with which Beckert would be associated, the Cubs and Red Sox. In his BioProject profile of Garbark, Bill Nowlin writes, “Bob is credited with seeing [Beckert] signed to the Boston Red Sox,”3 although Caleb McCarey4 signed him for Boston.

Beckert almost ended up with the arch-rival of the Sox. According to a Chicago Tribune Magazine profile, while at Allegheny Beckert had “accepted an invitation to work out at Yankee [S]tadium … all expenses paid. He … went thru the workout, then turned down the Yankees’ offer of a bonus because ‘I promised my dad I’d finish college.’ When he got back to college … he got a shock: He’d been declared ineligible. Technically, accepting the expenses from the Yankees made him a professional.”5

Since he did take the Boston offer, Beckert might have played for the 1967 Impossible Dream Red Sox: According to Doug Gilbert in Chicago’s American, “Beckert and Rico Petrocelli were signed in the same year … and at the end of the 1962 season Boston decided to keep Rico.”6 Chicago plucked Beckert from the Sox in the 1962 Minor League Draft. The Cubs had seemed set at second base with the young star Ken Hubbs until he tragically perished in a 1964 plane crash. Although he played almost exclusively at second base in the National League, Beckert had bounced around the infield early in his career, playing third base for Alleghany College; shortstop and third base in the Boston system; and second base, shortstop, and third base for Chicago minor-league teams. John Holland, Chicago vice president, “pointed out that the Cubs made 35 fewer double plays in 1964 than last year. ‘Doubtless a weaker infield defense contributed to the jump in our earned run average,’ suggested Holland. He added that the Cubs may have their second baseman under contract. He’s Glenn Beckert, an agile youngster who played shortstop for Salt Lake City.”7

Saying, “I’m satisfied I’m making good progress … but I know I’m in fast competition,”8 Beckert spoke confidently of his ability to make the positional transition during spring training in 1965. Santo, his future roommate and longtime pal, agreed, praising Beckert as “a whiz”9 at the new position.

In exhibition games, Beckert, “compared in some quarters with … Hubbs as a possible great at second base,”10 initially earned favorable notice for his ability to master the pivot on double-play balls, but then had to miss time due to an ankle injury. He recovered in time to make the team and debut on opening day against the Cubs’ arch-rivals, the defending world champion St. Louis Cardinals. Batting leadoff, Beckert struck out against Bob Gibson in each of the first two innings before reaching on an infield single off Ron Taylor in the fourth in a wild Wrigley game called due to darkness after eleven innings with the teams tied at 10.

Beckert quickly earned the respect of his opponents and his teammates. Five days later, versus the Braves, he “rapped out three hits and reached base four times. Felipe Alou, the Milwaukee first baseman said to him: ‘Hey, kid, we’re never going to get you out.’”11 In May, Beckert earned favorable reviews from Banks, the most credentialed Cub: “He’s got the kind of desire you love to see in a boy coming up…. He doesn’t seem to be worried about who’s pitching against him.”12

On May 9, Beckert bashed his first homer, “deep into the left center bleachers,”13 off Houston’s Bob Bruce. Beckert’s second and third home runs came on July 1 in what would turn out to be the only multi-homer game of his career in a 6-3 win over the Dodgers. “I’ve got a small home run area,” said Beckert modestly. “The pitches just happened to be in the right spot. The first one was a [Johnny Podres] fastball inside, the second one a [Ron Perranoski] slider. My folks will never believe it.”14 More self-aware than modest, Beckert would go more than one year until his next homer, which he would hit on July 9, 1966. “Two of our coaches, Alvin Dark and Pete Reiser, once told me, ‘Glenn, you do not have the swing to hit home runs or be a longball hitter. But you’d make a good No. 2 hitter if you can put the ball in play under all circumstances,’ Beckert said.”15

The Dodgers got revenge for Beckert’s rare power outburst on September 9, when Sandy Koufax threw a perfect game against the Cubs. “Nothing resembled a hit, altho in the very first inning … Beckert hit a sharp line drive over third base only inches foul before becoming Sandy’s first strikeout victim.”16 While failing on this day, in 1968 Beckert would have the only hits in games pitched by Steve Carlton and Gaylord Perry, two hurlers who would join Koufax in Cooperstown.17

Koufax pitched against Chicago again four days later. After striking out the leadoff hitter, Koufax confronted Beckert, who “lobbed a soft line-drive behind first base into right field for a double—and gone was any chance that Koufax would become the first man in baseball history to pitch five no-hit games or the first since Johnny Van Der {SIC} Meer to pitch consecutive no-hitters.”18

In 1965, Beckert (.239/.275/.298) and the Cubs (72-90) both struggled but laid a strong foundation for a more promising future. After Bob Kennedy and Lou Klein helmed Chicago in 1965, a boldfaced name replaced them. New skipper Leo Durocher called Beckert “‘my kind of player,’ explaining he has speed and can do many things.”19

“I like everything about that kid Beckert,” said Durocher. “He’s got a fine chance to be one of the front-line stars in the game. He has good hands, a strong arm, and he gives the pitcher a real battle … Defensively, he’s a good second baseman … and he’ll improve with experience…. If he can master punching that ball to right field, he could be another Billy Herman.”20

The hard-nosed Beckert likewise came to admire the no-nonsense Durocher. “When Leo came in, we were all a bit tight,” [said] Beckert … “We didn’t know what to expect…. So it took a little time for us to get to know him…. ‘Do the job for me,’ he says, ‘and I’ll see you get the money you think you deserve.’ He does it, too.”21

Touted by Santo as the game’s most improved player,22 Beckert had the first long hitting streak of his career in 1966. In the nineteenth game of a streak that would last twenty contests, he had three hits and drove in five runs as the Cubs pounded Gaylord Perry and the Giants 12-3 on September 10 in San Francisco. Beckert put up better numbers in his sophomore season (.287/.317/.348) albeit for a weaker team: the Cubs slumped to a 59-103 last place finish in the National League. The 103 losses equaled the Chicago mark for defeats set in 1962, the year the Cubs drafted Beckert.

Beckert started 1967 with a home run on Opening Day, which matched his total from the prior year and presaged a power surge of sorts—he would hit a career-high five (to go along with a career-high 32 doubles) on the season. Beckert also stole home on the front end of a double steal as Chicago beat Philadelphia 4-2. Poking fun at his lack of power, Beckert explained, “I hit a ball in last year’s opener against Juan Marichal that hit on top of the wall. It fell back instead of going over … When we take batting practice, myself, Billy Williams, Ron Santo, and Don Kessinger hit as a team. If anyone hits a home run, he gets another swing. With Kessinger and me if a ball bounces and hits the wall it’s considered a homer.”23

Off the field, Beckert got engaged and then married (on November 4, 1967) to Mary Eileen Marshall, an American Airlines flight attendant. He joined teammate Moe Drabowsky in finding a wife among the flying set.24 He also missed two weeks during the season to attend to his military commitments as a reservist serving “a six-year hitch”25 during the Vietnam War. He argued after the season that this break had hurt his play: “I really was hitting well for those first two months,” said Beckert. “In fact, I had an average of .306 on June 15. But then I had to leave for my two weeks of military service. That not only killed my momentum, but also upset all my coordination. When I came back, I dropped 40 points in my average almost faster than you could figure it with a pencil.”26

Despite missing Beckert for a fortnight, Durocher turned the Cubs around in 1967. Chicago went 87-74 and soared from tenth to third place in the standings. The team’s double-play combination garnered national notice. Radio broadcaster Lou Boudreau, three years away from entering the Hall of Fame thanks to his career as a Cleveland shortstop, compared the defensive abilities of “the jelling … Don Kessinger-Glenn Beckert keystone combination [to] the same impossible game-saving plays and double plays made by … Joe Gordon, Ken Keltner and”27 Boudreau himself.

Chicago executive Holland, who had touted Beckett before his 1965 rookie season, praised him even more highly28 after the conclusion of his third campaign: “We’re definitely not trading Beckert. He’s one of our key men…. For years, we tried to find a second baseman. When we found one in Ken Hubbs, he was taken away from us in a tragic accident. Now we’ve got another one in Beckert, who is one of the top two or three in the league.”29

Holland had accurately assessed his keystone sacker. Although Bill Mazeroski of Pittsburgh and Tommy Helms of Cincinnati had represented the National League in the 1967 All Star Game, by the end of the season Beckert trailed only Joe Morgan of Houston in Wins Above Replacement by NL second basemen. Both Beckert and the Cubs seemed on the verge of stardom following the 1967 season, a promise that they partially but did not wholly realize.

Chicago treaded water in 1968, winning 84 games and once again finishing in third place behind the NL champion Cardinals. But in the Year of the Pitcher,30 Beckert made major strides, setting career highs in games (155), runs (a league-leading 98), hits (189), and total bases (237). “He’s some kind of player,” says Durocher. “He’s the best second baseman in the league.”31 Beckert did lead NL second basemen with a 5.6 WAR in 1968.

Beckert batted .294, finished ninth in the NL MVP race, and won his lone Gold Glove for repeatedly flashing the leather. In a June game against Houston, one observer noted, “Beckert’s defensive play remained a highlight … He made three more fine stops today, topped by an all-but-unbelievable interception and off-balanced throw on a bounder by [Jimmy] Wynn in the fifth.”32 In a July game against New York, “Art Shamsky … ripped a ball toward right which Beckert stopped with a tremendous diving grab and threw him out, saving a run”33 in a game Chicago would eventually win 2-1. In an August game against St. Louis, Curt Flood “hammered a ball toward right which Beckert stabbed with a leaping catch and converted into a double play.”34

In its postseason profile of Gold Glove winners, The Sporting News observed, “Beckert has superb range in both directions, and is an expert at making the play on the slowly-hit ball. He moves in fast, and his excellent balance enables him to get something on every throw.”35

Baseball’s paucity of offense in 1968 did not prevent another long Beckert hitting steak, one that he extended to 19 games with a ninth-inning with a ninth-inning bunt single on July 14 against Pittsburgh. “You just have to be lucky with a batting streak,” Beckert said. “I decided to bunt because [Pittsburgh pitcher Bill] Henry is an old man, not a good fielder and the grass is high in the infield…. I did a lot of bunting in batting practice today.”36

The streak hit 21 games on July 16 during a 4-3 win over Philadelphia in twelve innings. Beckert’s double drove in the winning run. “It just seems like everything I hit finds a hole,” Beckert said modestly. “My goal is to hit .280. I’m considered a .280 hitter and if I consistently hit that, I’ll be helping the team.”37

An admittedly biased teammate disagreed. “There’s no question that he’s capable of being a .300 hitter,” said Ron Santo … “He’s an aggressive hitter and he … always gets a piece of the ball…. You always have a chance the ball will drop in … especially a hitter like Glenn is who can punch the ball to right field.”38

The streak reached 26 games on July 21, and Beckert was supposedly “living up to Leo Durocher’s billing for him as the best player at his position since Jackie Robinson,”39 a clearly exaggerated claim that Durocher would soon top by proclaiming, “He may be even better.”40

Beckert’s run of good luck brought him personal as well as professional joy when his wife gave birth to daughter Tracy Lynn between games 26 and 27 of his streak. “You should have seen my roomie,” Ron Santo said of Beckert. “He got the call and he was so excited he bounced out of bed, stepped on his suitcase and cut his foot. He kept me up almost all night.”41

Beckert failed to extend his streak to 28 games on a controversial play against San Francisco. In his game story, George Langford of the Chicago Tribune wrote, “Hal Lanier, the Giants’ shortstop who fielded Beckert’s grounder in the 10th inning … said … he thought Beckert beat his throw to first base and should have been given a hit. Umpire Ken Burkhart called Beckert out thus ending Glenn’s hitting streak at 27 games, one short of the club record.”42 During the streak, Beckert batted .362 (42-116) with eight doubles, one triple, and 21 runs scored.43

In an ominous sign of what would befall the ill-fated Cubs in 1969, Beckert played nearly every day and wore down over the course of the 1968 campaign. According to the Chicago Tribune, Beckert’s weight dropped from 190 pounds at the beginning of the season to 173 by September.44

Beckert had the best year of his career to date in 1968, but after the season he had a bigger goal in mind. “I want to play on a pennant winner and play in a Series. Too many guys go through their entire career and never play in one.”45 The 1969 Chicago Cubs would represent Beckert’s best chance at postseason glory.

Beckert took a beating in 1969, suffering through a quartet of maladies over the first two months of the campaign. In April, he “was knocked dizzy and carried from the field on a stretcher when he was bowled over by the Cardinals’ Mike Shannon… Beckert was taken … for X-rays of his nose and jaw, which revealed no broken bones. He was kept overnight, however, by doctors who said he was suffering from ‘a little amnesia’ about the collision.”46 After returning from this injury, he kept “playing despite the lingering effects of a bout with the flu”47 that hampered him during a doubleheader against the Mets.

In May, Beckert “was clipped on the chin … by a fast ball from [San Diego’s Gary] Ross and had to leave the game. Beckert suffered a gash on the left side of his chin that required 15 stitches to close and the force of the blow caused fluid to develop in the right side of the jaw near the ear.”48

But the big blow occurred during a June 6 game against Cincinnati. “The injury occurred … when Beckert charged Pete Rose’s grounder, grabbed it, and tagged Tony Cloninger. He then threw to first to complete the double play. Cloninger was running at full speed and, when the two made contact, Beckert’s thumb was jammed up into his palm.”49 Beckert headed to the disabled list with the expectation that he would not play for three weeks to one month.

Beckert returned on July 1. Reflecting on the injury the following year, Beckert thought that he had returned too quickly: “My thumb wasn’t healed yet when I returned to the lineup, but that was nobody’s fault but my own. I’m the type of guy who can’t sit on the bench. I kept wanting to get back in there. Now, of course, I realize it was foolish of me because I just wasn’t 100 percent right.”50 In spite of his ailments, Beckert made the All-Star team in 1969 for the first time. “This is a real honor,” Beckert said. “There’s only one honor greater and I plan to get that one this year too – playing in a World Series.”51

After breaking up two no-hitters in 1968, Beckert preserved one in 1969 by Ken Holtzman in an August 19 game against the Braves at Wrigley Field. “In the Braves’ first, Beckert had ranged to his left for a nifty play on Felipe Alou. In the third the Cub second baseman pulled off a bigger robbery against the same man, throwing grotesquely off-balance, almost from behind first base, to nip the runner. These were the big plays, but Beckert said later that the toughest of all was a grounder that seemed almost routine on which he went two steps to his right and ended the game by throwing out Henry Aaron, the mightiest Brave of them all.”52 With forty games left in the Chicago 1969 schedule, the Cubs had a seemingly comfortable 7.5-game lead on the Mets after the Holtzman gem.

The lead shrunk quickly. New York beat Chicago 3-2 on September 8 to close to within 1.5 games and set the stage for another entry in the annals of negative animal lore that afflicted the cursed Cubs. The 1945 Chicagoans lost the World Series, if one believes the legend, due to the Curse of the Billy Goat. The 1969 counterparts, with Beckert playing a major role, had to deal with the Hex of the Black Cat.

On September 9, the Mets crushed the Cubs 7-1. The caption of a United Press International photo accompanying the game story conveyed the feline connection: “CAT HEXES THE CUBS—Glenn Beckert, on deck, watches black cat stalk toward Cubs dugout at Shea Stadium. Beckert had one of the errors as the Cubs lost again to the Mets.”53 By September 10, Chicago had dropped to second place.

Beckert and the Cubs played as if hexed. On September 13, Chicago led St. Louis 4-3 going into the bottom of the eighth inning. With two outs, the bases loaded, and the game now knotted at 4, Joe Torre hit a squib to the reigning Gold Glove second baseman. “I should have had it,” [Beckert] said, speaking almost inaudibly. “I should have gotten that ball. If I had back-handed it, I could have gotten the runner at second base. I thought I was going to get it.”54 Two runs scored on the hit, and the Cubs ended up dropping the contest to the Cardinals 7-4.

One week later, Chicago again led St. Louis by one run going into the eighth inning, this time by a 1-0 score at Wrigley. With one out, men on first and second, and the game now knotted at one, Vada Pinson hit a grounder to the reigning Gold Glove second baseman. Running from first, Curt Flood “hesitated in Beckert’s line of vision, and Glenn fumbled for a[n] … error.”55 The flub loaded the bases for Torre, who again delivered a two-run single in a game the Cubs again lost by three runs (4-1).

The Cubs remained in second place for the duration of the exciting but ultimately heartbreaking 1969 season. The 1970 team bounced back in the beginning and held first place as late as June 23. Two weeks later, Beckert learned that he had made the All-Star game for the second straight season and would start for the first time. But once again, the injury bug bit Beckert, who before the midsummer classic suffered from both an impacted wisdom tooth and a sore ankle.56 He recovered in time to play. Batting eighth, Beckert went 0-2. He had gone 0-1 as a reserve in 1969, and would end up hitless in his mid-summer classic career after going 0-3 in 1971 and 0-1 in 1972.

In spite of the honor, Beckert rightly recognized that his play had fallen off in 1970. “I just don’t think I had that good a season. Frankly, it was frustrating. The idea is to win and we didn’t…. I wasn’t doing the basic things, like getting on base and advancing the runners.”57 While setting career highs in runs (99) and walks (32, a remarkably low personal best for a player who had more than 600 plate appearances five times), Beckert and the Cubs both fell off the pace in 1970. Defensively, for instance, Beckert made fewer plays than his National League counterparts, falling from second to fourth in assists and third to fifth in range factor, while tying for the senior circuit lead in errors by a second baseman. Chicago remained in second place in the NL East, but won only 84 games in 1970 after taking 92 in 1969.

In 1971, Beckert bounced back with one of his best years at the plate,58 but the Cubs again regressed a bit, falling to third place with 83 wins. Beckert got “off to an excellent start. He has been keeping his average in the .340s and in late May was the only Cub among the National League’s leading hitters.”59 Beckert maintained his hot start with the most consistent offensive effort of his career. He batted between .301 and .389 every month of the 1971 season through August, finishing the year with a career-best .342 mark. By going 7-for-9 in an August 8 doubleheader against the Giants, Beckert boosted his average to a league-leading .357. His comments following the twin-bill echoed themes he had talked about throughout his career. “I just want to win a pennant; not a batting title,” Beckert said afterwards. “I don’t have superstar ability. My job is to get hits and to win games. I got to the big leagues as a team player and that’s the way I play.”60

Beckert’s splendid season with the stick ended in early September when, according to Richard Dozer of the Chicago Tribune, Beckert “suffered a ruptured tendon in his right thumb while tumbling after Ted Simmons’ bouncing single near second base… Beckert … had no mobility in his thumb joint…”61 His .342 batting average placed him third behind Joe Torre and Ralph Garr, and just ahead of Roberto Clemente and Hank Aaron.

Beckert remained optimistic for the 1972 campaign. “I’ve been assured that I’ll be physically sound for next season. That was the only thing I was worried about when I was injured – whether the ruptured tendon would leave a permanent handicap.”62

In 1972, Beckert hit the 22nd and final home run of his career, a Wrigley round-tripper that “barely reached the basket-like fence extension that juts out obliquely above the left field vines.”63 Durocher also concluded his tenure in Chicago during the 1972 season as the Cubs only played two games above .500 under his leadership through July 23. Whitey Lockman, who had played under Durocher for the New York Giants, replaced his old boss as skipper. “I know players who played for him [Lockman] in the minors and they said he is a good man to play for,” Beckert said. “I guess Mr. Wrigley thought that it was time for a change, and he made it,” Beckert added.64

On August 21, Beckert hurt his knee in a collision with San Diego’s Derrel Thomas, who slid into Beckert in an attempt to break up a double play. The team feared that Beckert would miss the rest of the season,65 but he returned on September 9. On September 16, the Cubs beat the Mets 18-5 although Beckert went hitless in six at-bats and became the first player in history to strand one dozen runners in a game.66 Beckert could not explain why his batting average had fallen to .270 in 1972, his lowest since his rookie year in 1965. Speaking in 1973 spring training, Beckert admitted, “I guess my stock really went down last year…. But don’t ask me why. I really don’t know.”67

Both Beckert and the Cubs had worse marks in 1973 than in 1972, but the season had its memorable moments for both the second sacker and his squad. Beckert had the final long hitting streak of his career, and Chicago finished just five games out of first place. The highlight of the campaign took place on May 15 at Wrigley, in game 23 of Beckert’s hit streak. The Cubs had won six straight games and taken a 4-2 lead into the ninth against the Mets. New York began the inning with three straight singles to make the score 4-3. After a force play and an error, the Mets had the bases loaded with one out and Bud Harrelson at the plate. Harrelson hit a shot in the hole near Beckert that appeared likely to put the Mets at least even if not ahead. “Three fast steps to his right, a lunging backhand stab of the bullet-like grounder, a spinning, mid-air throw home, and Glenn Beckert had done the improbable … to nip the Mets’ Ed Kranepool by six inches…. ‘It was maybe the greatest play I’ve ever seen,’ said Jack Aker, who has been in the Major Leagues 10 seasons…”68

Beckert would hit .358 during the hit streak,69 which would reach 26 games. When the streak ended, his batting average for the season stood at .323. Chicago’s lead would extend to 8.5 games on June 29.

But Beckert yet again had physical problems that prevented him from completing the campaign. This time, his left heel first forced him out July 6-1070 and then limited his playing time after August 6. Beckert did play second base on August 7, but could only pinch-hit after that date. By the conclusion of the 1973 campaign, Beckert’s batting average had fallen to .255, and the Cubs had toppled to fifth place in the NL East. The changes coming to Chicago that had cost Durocher his job in 1972 would soon affect Beckert.

“The removal of a bone spur from Beckert’s left heel was reported to be successful”71 in an operation that occurred on October 31, 1973. A week later, Chicago traded Beckert and Bobby Fenwick to San Diego for Jerry Morales. Beckert reacted to the big news like a professional, saying, “The toughest part of the whole thing will be missing the friendships I’ve made here. But I still plan to make my home in Chicago.”72

After finishing 60-102 and ranking last in attendance in the 1973 NL, San Diego sought to improve on both fronts by spending to bring in some brand names with “high salaries as those [received] by [Willie] McCovey ($100,000), Beckert ($70,000), [Matty] Alou ($60,000) and [Bobby] Tolan ($45,000).”73 The changes worked at the box office as attendance went from 611,826 to 1,075,399 in 1974, a figure that placed the Padres up four notches to eighth in the National League. But the moves failed on the field.

Beckert’s play proved part of the problem rather than a step toward a solution to San Diego’s baseball woes. Beckert, “hindered by a sore ankle and a bruised hand, had eight hits in his first five games, but was charged with four errors and had limited range afield.”74 He “was discovered to have traumatic arthritis in his right ankle”75 and missed large chunks of the season. Beckert did not play for nearly one month from mid-April to mid-May. He went out again from late May until mid-July. Hitting .310 as late as August 19, Beckert staggered down the stretch to finish with a .256 batting average, nearly an identical mark to his 1973 figure. Likewise, the Padres finished 60-102 for the second straight season.

For his first time in the majors, Beckert played third base for one game in 1974. He played exclusively at the hot corner in 1975, “but injured his arm in his third game,”76 the second-to-last start of his career. San Diego released Beckert on April 28. He “indicated he would accept a position with the McDonald hamburger chain of Ray Kroc, owner of the San Diego club. ‘Arthritis made me pack it in,’ said Beckert. ‘The doctors told me I just couldn’t keep exerting myself with the condition as it is.’”77

No sentimental businessman, Kroc had other ideas about Beckert’s future after the latter sought to receive his salary for the full year following his early-season release. “Kroc said: ‘I lost a lot of respect for Glenn.’ Kroc left the definite impression that Beckert has spoiled his chances of being allowed to purchase a McDonald’s franchise, one for which he had trained.”78

Beckert won $35,000 in back pay in an arbitration case announced after the end of the regular season. Arbitrator Peter Seitz ruled that the Padres had released Beckert when he could not play due to injury.79

Beckert did not have fond memories of his time with the San Diego organization, recounting, “The Padres had the world’s ugliest uniforms, puke yellow and brown, and it was a bad experience, going from … Scottsdale in spring training to Yuma, Arizona…. It was like where they filmed Lawrence of Arabia. The sand and the wind. It was like Stalag 17…”80

Although the McDonald’s deal fell through, Beckert pursued a business career beginning in 1975, “trading grain futures on the Chicago Board of Trade.”81 On September 6, 2001, he injured himself in a fall at his aunt’s house, but managed to recover from the blood clots and fracture that he endured.82 Beckert also received a diagnosis of lung cancer in 2006,83 but he continued to live for more than a decade after this second health scare.

In 2001, Bill James rated Beckert as the 64th best second baseman of all-time. James groups Beckert with hitters “who were not as productive as their batting average[s] would suggest,”84 a judgment that seems tough but fair, especially since Beckert benefitted by playing his home games in a batter-friendly ballpark like Wrigley, where he enjoyed a .292 average (outside Wrigley, Beckert had a lifetime .274 batting average). In addition to his relatively high batting averages Beckert played most of his career in a major media market, had multiple long hitting streaks, and five times led the National League as the toughest hitter to strikeout. Accordingly, he got a great deal of attention, albeit less than his more accomplished teammates. During the most productive part of his career (1966-1971), Beckert ranked annually among the top twelve most valuable Cubs in terms of Wins Above Replacement, topping out at third in 1968.

The Chicago Cubs have had three Hall of Fame second baseman who spent the peaks of their careers with the team: Johnny Evers, Billy Herman, and Ryne Sandberg. While hardly in their class, Glenn Beckert ranks as the fourth best second baseman in franchise history.

Beckert died at the age of 79 on April 12, 2020.

Notes

Belanger used two tiny black gloves per season and broke them in with spit and coffee. He got upset if anybody touched them. Watching him have a catch with a teammate on the sidelines was striking. He never seemed to actually catch a ball; rather he redirected them into his throwing hand. Sports Illustrated once wrote: “Belanger would glide effortlessly after a grounder and welcome it into loving arms; scooping the ball up with a single easy motion, and bringing it to his chest for a moment’s caress before making his throw.”1

Belanger’s fielding prowess was due to the start-and-stop speed of an All-American high school basketball star, his lightning-quick hands, and what scouts called Belanger’s First Step. A student of pitch counts, locations, and batter tendencies, Belanger sprinted at odd angles for the big hop and is best appreciated in slow-motion video. His small glove transferred the ball to his right hand – the seams of the ball always aligned the same way – enabling him to uncoil a strong throw on his next left step. In 18 years, he never dove for a ball, insisting that an all-out sprint was faster and maintained the mechanics of the play. And he was supremely confident: He never wore a protective cup.

Belanger’s father, Edward, was of French-Canadian descent and worked as a maintenance man in Cheshire, a town in the Berkshires of Western Massachusetts. His mother, Marie, was a first- generation Italian-American. Mark, the third of four children (he had an older brother, Al, and two sisters, Jeanne and Linda), learned how to field playing with his siblings on a cow pasture. Born on June 8, 1944, in Pittsfield, Massachusetts, he played basketball and baseball at Pittsfield High School. On the hardwood, he was a 6-foot-2 forward who jumped center, compiling 1,455 points in three years a school record until 2003. In baseball, he starred for both the high school squad and the local American Legion Post 68 team. On August 24, 1960, Belanger ripped a 14th-inning 340-foot game-winning double off the left-field fence at Alumni Field in Keene, New Hampshire, to earn Pittsfield Post a trip to Hastings, Nebraska, for the American Legion national championship. Scouts for the Orioles noted that Belanger “looks like he’s playing on roller skates to the accompaniment of music.”2 Based on scout Joe Cusick’s reports, after Belanger graduated from high school Baltimore offered him $35,000 to sign a contract. Belanger signed on June 19. That summer he played in 47 games for the Bluefield Orioles in the short-season Appalachian League and eight games with the Single-A Elmira Pioneers of the Eastern League. He hit .298 for Bluefield but was just 1-for-22 at Elmira.

Belanger went to spring training with the Orioles in 1963. Ron Hansen, whom the Orioles had just traded to the Chicago White Sox, approached the rookie with this advice: “Learn to rock forward as the pitcher delivers the ball instead of starting from zero.”3 Belanger took it to heart. Over the years he not only leaned forward but anticipated left or right based on batter tendencies and pitch location. Sometimes Belanger would break right and then correct himself and break left – all before the crack of the bat on the ball. Before the 1963 season began, Belanger entered the US Air National Guard for a year of active duty, completing his basic training at Fort Dix, New Jersey, and playing on the camp baseball squad. Returning the next season with the Northern League’s Aberdeen (South Dakota) Pheasants, he hit just .226 but one scouting report enthused about his fielding: “Belanger could be a major-league shortstop if he never got another hit in his life.”4 He was far from perfect on the field, having made 20 errors in 44 games with Bluefield in 1962 and 23 errors with Aberdeen in 117 games in 1964, but talent evaluators had no doubt as to the shortstop’s potential.

Belanger played for Earl Weaver at three levels along the way, and Weaver told him, “You’re my shortstop if you hit .0001.”5 In midseason 1965, Belanger’s year at Elmira was interrupted by his first call-up to the majors when Luis Aparicio caught the mumps. In Kansas City, a gaggle of sportswriters converged on batting practice to find out who Belanger was. A’s coach Whitey Herzog said: “I saw him play in the Northern League. During the seven games I watched him, Belanger was the best shortstop I ever saw in my life.”6

Belanger debuted as a pinch-runner on August 7. In Fenway Park on August 10 he fielded his first ground ball. It came off the bat of Felix Mantilla, and Belanger started a double play with the graceful second baseman Jerry Adair. Belanger appeared in 11 games, but had only three at-bats, with one hit, a single off Kansas City’s Don Mossi on September 10.

Listed as “needs hitting experience” in the spring of 19667, Belanger was one of five Elmira regulars who followed Earl Weaver to Triple-A Rochester. Belanger did not hit well in the first half and, feeling the pressure to succeed, began smoking cigarettes. Belanger asked Weaver to bench him but Weaver refused and Belanger responded by out-hitting league MVP Mike Epstein the second half, finishing at .262 for the season. The Rochester press called him Remarkable Mark. Called up at the end of the year, he appeared in just eight more games, but was there to join in the wild celebration when Baltimore clinched the pennant on September 22.

Called “the greatest shortstop prospect in baseball history,”8 Belanger drew offers from many clubs but General Manager Harry Dalton was adamant: “I will never trade Belanger.”9 Playing behind Aparicio, a seven-time All-Star and seven-time Gold Glove winner in his career thus far, Belanger showed uneven play in his rookie year of 1967. On April 30 he dropped Aparicio’s feed as a second baseman and allowed an unearned run to score to give Steve Barber a loss in what ended as a no-hit game. (Barber threw 8 2/3 no-hit innings and Stu Miller 1/3 in the loss.) The Orioles’ manager, Hank Bauer, still said Belanger “sparkled”10 and Bauer liked the fact that Belanger hit well when given consecutive starts. Aparicio had an off-year and Belanger became his late-inning replacement. In the same May 14 game in which Mickey Mantle hit his 500th home run, Belanger hit one off Yankee Stadium’s left-field pole, victimizing the Yankees’ Mel Stottlemyre.

Belanger married the former Daryl Apple on November 25, 1967, and the couple honeymooned at Mount Airy Lodge in the Poconos. On their fourth night together, Belanger heard the news that Baltimore had traded Aparicio to the White Sox, opening up the shortstop job. Back home in Pittsfield, Belanger was employed selling sporting goods in the Besse-Clarke department store. To get ready for the season, he squeezed lacrosse balls to build up his wrists.

Belanger almost saw his season derailed when the Air National Guard ordered him to report to the 175th Fighter Group at Middle River, Maryland, just before the season. He missed Baltimore’s Opening Day, but joined the squad in time for the first Opening Day ever in Oakland, California, to which the Athletics had moved from Kansas City. California Governor Ronald Reagan threw out the first pitch in front of 50,000 fans and Belanger hit his second career home run. On July 10, Hank Bauer was deposed as O’s manager in favor of first-base coach Earl Weaver, who said, “Mark can be a star. A fifty-thousand-dollar player.”11 Perhaps, but he hit just .208 in his first year as a starting player.

The next spring bullpen coach Charlie Lau approached Belanger to offer batting tips. Lau kept track of every pitch Belanger saw that year, sending him up to bat with instructions to take and swing on specific counts, and encouraging him to expect certain pitches in certain spots based on previous batter-pitcher matchups. Belanger responded with his best batting season ever, won his first of eight Gold Gloves, and earned the nickname Blade for his silhouette as Baltimore rolled to a team record 109 wins. He hit for a .287 average with 50 RBIs.

Belanger became a respected member of the team, offering an articulate clubhouse interview and buffering Earl Weaver’s rants. Between the foul lines he was no-joke, all business, directing fielders to shade right or left and approaching rookies and new players with the abrupt “We don’t do it that way” – a line he even used on Jim Palmer in 1978.12 Backed by veterans Brooks Robinson and Frank Robinson, Belanger became a leader on the team, replacing Davey Johnson as assistant player representative. Even in the loose clubhouse atmosphere after wins, Belanger elevated small talk into something relevant without being called a clubhouse lawyer. Late after games, Belanger was still in his canvas chair by his locker talking baseball through a haze of Marlboro cigarette smoke and sips of National Bohemian beer. When the team’s mock “Kangaroo Court” was in session, Belanger was often fined one dollar for ludicrous imperfections, to which he would exclaim: “I appeal!”

Detroit manager Mayo Smith declared that trying to get a hit through the left side of the Baltimore infield was like “trying to throw a hamburger through a brick wall.”13 But in the 1969 World Series the New York Mets did just that, rolling seeing-eye hits between Mark and Brooks – back-to-back no less – in the top of the ninth inning of Game Two en route to a five-game upset. When left fielder Don Buford lost Jerry Grote’s double in the sun in the 10th inning of Game Four, and Belanger almost caught the ball, color commentator Lou Boudreau said he “never saw a shortstop go that far.”14 Broadcaster Tony Kubek called him a fourth outfielder.15

In 1970 Charlie Lau signed with Oakland, and Belanger jammed his thumb in March. He was described as lost at the plate, batting “all-arm”16 without a clue. He developed “projection room eyes”17 from looking at so much film, but all he got for it was a .218 average and a mountain of broken bats. He did hit .333 in the American League Championship Series – in the opener against Minnesota, Belanger’s soft liner off pitcher Jim Perry’s glove was called the turning point, loading the bases for Mike Cuellar’s fourth-inning grand slam. Belanger hit just .105 in the World Series, but celebrated the Orioles’ victory anyway. The next year he rebounded to a more respectable .266 and captured his second Gold Glove.

In 1972 Weaver gave a lot of middle-infield at bats to newcomer Bobby Grich, causing Belanger’s playing time to be cut in half (he hit just .186) and Baltimore suffered its worst record during Belanger’s career. After the season the Orioles traded away second baseman Davey Johnson and installed Grich there, giving Belanger his full-time job back. The next two seasons were remarkably similar for Belanger and the Orioles. He hit .226 and .225 and captured a Gold Glove award after each season. The Orioles had second-half surges each season to come from behind to win the division title, before dropping the League Championship Series to the Athletics each season.

The tradeoff between Belanger’s lousy offense and great defense was usually one Weaver was willing to make, but he was not above trying to gain an edge. In September of 1975, Weaver often used Royle Stillman as the shortstop high in the starting lineup in road games, allowing rookie Stillman to bat in the first inning and Belanger to replace him in the bottom of the first. Stillman was an outfielder, and never played an inning of shortstop in his career, despite his six “starts” there in 1975. He hit 3-for-6 in these games.

Belanger holds the American League career record for being pinch-hit for – 333 times. And if he wasn’t being pinch-hit for, he was sacrificing; his league-leading 23 sacrifices in 1975 were an Oriole record at least through 2009. In 1976, Belanger carried a .300 average into June and earned over a million votes in the All-Star balloting, making the team as a backup. When Peter Gammons wrote, “Belanger could be the first 140 lb. weakling to win the MVP award,”18 Belanger sought him out at Fenway Park and confronted him: “I’m 170 pounds, and I’m not a weakling.”19 The next year, writing for Sports Illustrated, Gammons called Belanger “the leader of the club.”20 One of the last players to represent himself and not use an agent, Belanger signed after 1976 for $60,000, a contract that was later extended through the end of the 1981 season.

On July 28, 1977, even though he was going for his 50th consecutive errorless game, he was benched by Weaver and watched his replacement, Kiko Garcia, drop a first-inning pop-up that led to a big loss. Belanger’s streak ended on August 20 at 62 games, 48 of them starts. When the team contended in late September, the Baltimore Sun called Belanger the “blood and guts of the team.”21 But Belanger went beyond the established bounds of team leadership. He and his wife, Daryl “Dee” Belanger, hosted teammates for baseball talk and home cooking at his Timonium, Maryland, and Key Biscayne, Florida, residences. Pitcher Steve Stone credited one such evening with making him feel welcome with the team and for his subsequent 1979 success. In 1975 Mark and Dee even suggested that the Orioles play John Denver’s “Thank God I’m a Country Boy” during the seventh-inning stretch, the start of a tradition that has spread today to many sports in many cities.

Belanger spent countless hours tutoring young infielders Doug DeCinces, Rich Dauer, Kiko Garcia, and Billy Smith, and the rookies helped him set the Baltimore record for double plays in 1977. When second baseman Dauer set a record by playing in 74 consecutive games without an error, he thanked Belanger. “He taught me how to play every hitter … and taught me our pitching staff,” Dauer said.22 Belanger tapped his heart, as he did for so many players he liked: “He’s got it here,” he said.23

In 1980, a two-error game in July was noted to be his first in six years, and major-league shortstops surveyed by Sport magazine voted Belanger the best at the position. On September 4, 1981, Weaver benched Belanger, batting .165, for Lenny Sakata amid a team batting slump. Belanger, complaining about a sore shoulder, never started again. Sakata popped a grand slam two days later, coming out twice for curtain calls, and Weaver chortled, “He’s been keeping rallies going for us since he’s been in there,”24 a remark poignant for the punchless Belanger, who wasn’t even subbing in the late innings any more. Belanger’s last game with the Orioles was on October 4, but he asked Weaver not to play him, saying, “I haven’t been playing, and I’m not sharp.”25 Public-address announcer Rex Barney thanked Belanger in the top of the eighth inning for the privilege of watching him play. Applause built until Belanger appeared on the top step of the dugout and tipped his cap, an act that only made the stadium roar, delaying the game. Belanger added criticisms of Weaver that forced the Orioles’ hand in releasing him on November 13. Reflecting on the Orioles without Belanger, catcher Rick Dempsey said, “I feel like we lost half the club.”26

Belanger signed with the Los Angeles Dodgers for $250,000 on December 11, 1981, to play one last season. Along with his utility-infielder duties, he handed lineup cards to umpires and pitched batting practice. Walking by manager Tommy Lasorda’s office in March, Belanger cringed when Lasorda yelled out: “Belanger!” Expecting Weaver-like browbeating, Belanger entered the office only to be told Lasorda wanted a hug.27 He got a key hit in a Dodgers win on July 31, and walked twice in a final start against fireballer Nolan Ryan. The last grounder he fielded was from Tony Gwynn on September 21.

For many, the close of Mark Belanger’s playing days only heralded the beginnings of his real contributions to baseball. The assistant player representative for Baltimore since 1971, Belanger rose to player representative in 1977 when Brooks Robinson retired and took pains to make sure Donald Fehr, then the chief counsel of the Major League Players Association, understood the rank-and-file’s concerns. Belanger was tested as the players’ front man in the 50-day strike of 1981 and fought for bargaining benefits that he himself would probably never collect. Belanger’s pro-union stance contrasted with that of big earners like Reggie Jackson, who seemed ready to cave in

Upon Belanger’s retirement, player reps demanded that a spot be created for him right under Ken Moffett, the executive director of the players union. Belanger turned down a lucrative offer from Personal Management Associates, a Baltimore player agency headed by Ron Shapiro, and became a tireless “special assistant” to Moffett and later Don Fehr

The partnership with Fehr was fruitful. Belanger brought credibility to executive-board sessions, and acted as Fehr’s personal bellwether for player opinion. Fehr himself claimed he didn’t feel comfortable in the job until 1986. Until then Belanger stood behind him at nearly every public appearance: arms folded, repeating key words, and interrupting Fehr’s legalese at least once with: “Don. You lost them.”28 Eventually Belanger’s own earnings topped $400,000 annually, yet he still took a personal interest in nearly every player grievance that came across his desk, helping the union move to Midtown Manhattan and to computerize member data. Still making time to play golf with his brother, Al, at the Berkshire Hills Country Club on Saturday mornings, Belanger saw the median major-league salary top $1,000,000 in 1992.

A skiing accident at Lake Tahoe, Nevada, early in January 1997 led to lingering discomfort and a diagnosis of lung cancer that April. Belanger, who had quit smoking in 1991, took the challenge in an upbeat, optimistic mood. He married his second wife, Virginia French, three months later, and worked for the MLPA while an outpatient until he died shortly after the 1998 regular season ended, on October 6, at the age of 54. Besides his wife, he was survived by two sons, Richard and Robert.

Sources

Ken Nigro, Baltimore Sun beat writer, 1969-1978, and TSN correspondent 1977-1979, interview.

Jim Henneman, TSN Baltimore correspondent, 1976-1978, interview.

Ed Belanger, brother, interview.

Notes

The Indians won the opener, 3-2. The second game was not nearly as close, as Buddy Bell’s grand slam in the second inning off Boston starter Steve Barr staked the Indians to a 6-0 lead. He added a solo home run in the fourth frame and a run-scoring double in the eighth. Bell was 3-for-5 with three runs scored and six RBIs, a career high. Indians starter Roric Harrison went the distance as the Indians coasted to a 12-2 victory. 

Bell had been the whipping boy in Cleveland, batting .232 to that point in the season. “Sure I heard them but I’m a professional and I try not to let it bother me, but it did,” Bell said of the booing fans.1 Bell was simplistic in describing his grand slam. “I never try for homers. All I wanted to do was get a hit. The bases were loaded and a single would have put us up by three. The pitch came down the middle and I just ripped, that’s all.”2 Bell continued his fine hitting for the balance of the season, batting .271 for the year. “It’s a great feeling to come back like that after the start I’ve had this season,” said Buddy of his big day.3

After the Indians split a Bat Day Doubleheader with the Bosox the following day, Cleveland had won 13 of its last 17 to pull within six games of the division-leading Red Sox. But Boston got the last laugh, winning the American League pennant in 1975. 

The Indians third baseman made headlines off the field a few days after the Boston series. The All-Star Game was to be played in Milwaukee on July 15. Bell finished second in the fan voting to the Yankees’ Graig Nettles. AL skipper Alvin Dark picked Bell as the backup to Nettles. However, Bell rejected the appointment. “I did it because in my heart, I know I don’t deserve it as much as some of the other guys who are playing better than me right now,” he explained.4

“Now that it’s final—I talked to (AL President) Lee MacPhail and Mr. Dark yesterday—I feel like a burden has been lifted off my shoulders. For two weeks, ever since the balloting was printed in the newspapers, and I was leading the third basemen. It has been eating up my insides, because I knew I didn’t deserve it.”5

“Now I feel better, so relieved, because I know I’m doing the right thing. There are other guys who deserve it more, and I know how I’d feel if I were in their shoes.”6

“I wanted Buddy because I think he could help us win the game, “said Dark. “There’s no doubt but that Buddy is one of the stars of baseball and belongs in the All-Star Game. I’d be honored to have him on the team. But I couldn’t convince him.

“Once he made his decision, and I knew it was irrevocable, I told Buddy I admire his attitude and his courage for doing what he thinks is right, no matter the consequences. And now I have even more respect for Buddy Bell.”7 

David Gus Bell was born on August 27, 1951, in Pittsburgh. He was one of seven children born to Gus and Joyce Bell. At the time, Gus Bell was in his second year as an outfielder for the Pittsburgh Pirates. His 15-year career was played entirely in the National League with Pittsburgh, Cincinnati, the New York Mets, and Milwaukee. He was a four-time All-Star, all while he was a member of the Reds. Gus started in right field for the Mets in their inaugural game, on April 11 1962, at St. Louis’s Busch Stadium. His single to center field in the second inning was the first hit in Mets history.

Gus gave Buddy his nickname to differentiate him from another family member also named David. Although David was born in Pittsburgh, it was Cincinnati where he spent his formative years. Bell was a two-sport star at Archbishop Moeller High School, excelling in basketball and of course baseball. In his three seasons on the varsity, Bell compiled a .410 batting average. He was the first real “star” to walk the halls at Moeller. Ken Griffey Jr., Barry Larkin, Adam Hyzdu, and Buddy’s sons David and Mike would all wear the Crusader blue and gold.

The assumption by many was that Buddy, being the son of a major-league star, was the beneficiary of Gus’s instruction on the finer points of playing baseball. But the opposite was true. “Most people say to me, ‘I guess you were able to help him quite a bit,’ but the fact is that I did help a little at the beginning, but not much after that,” said Gus.

“I don’t think you can push a kid. You can try to lead them but I feel that whatever they try to do, just encourage them. Tim Rose [Moeller coach] taught Buddy a lot of the fundamental things, like base running, how to play the position, and that sort. I don’t claim very much of the credit.”8

After graduation, Bell was selected in the 16th round of the June free-agent draft by the Cleveland Indians on June 5, 1969. Cleveland general manager Gabe Paul and assistant general manager Phil Seghi were both in the Cincinnati front office when Gus Bell was a member of the Reds. They had both known Buddy since he was a toddler. Bell spent three years in the Indians farm system, culminating in 1971 at Wichita of the American Association. In 129 games there, Bell hit .289, with 11 homers and 59 RBIs to go with 136 hits. He was named the league’s Rookie of the Year, as well as MVP of the Aeros.

Bell also wed the former Gloria Eysoldt in 1971. They had five children: David, Michael, Ricky, Kristi, and Traci. David and Michael both played in the major leagues, making the Bell family one of only four three-generation families in major-league history. (See also the families of my Hairston, Ray Boone, and Joe Coleman) 

At 1972 spring training prior it looked as if Bell might be ticketed to the minors again. But given the opportunity, he was able to show the Indians brass that he was needed on their big-league team. “I hadn’t played in any of the Indians exhibition games and there were only two weeks of camp left. The team had left for Yuma and the rest of us were left at Tucson. They needed an outfielder for the “B” game that morning so I was sent out there.

“I had a good day at the plate, going 3-for-4. Then the office got a phone call from Yuma, saying that they needed a replacement that afternoon for outfielder John Lowenstein, who had been hurt, and I was sent over there for the afternoon game. I played right field and went 4-for-5, had three RBIs and drove in the winning run. The next day they used me in the outfield again at Phoenix and I had two RBI singles and a three-run homer to win the game. From then on I was in the regular lineup and was signed to a Cleveland contract.”9

During his minor-league years Bell was primarily situated at third base, although he also saw time at second base. But the path to third base was blocked by Graig Nettles. However, Bell’s talent was evident, and on April 15, 1972, he was the starting right fielder for Cleveland on Opening Day.

Joining Bell in Cleveland was Ken Aspromonte, his manager at Wichita, who was also promoted to the big leagues. Bell split his time between right and center fields, batting .255. The Indians hit .234 as a team and were inept offensively. Nettles, who often clashed with Aspromonte, led the team in homers (17) and RBIs (70). But in the offseason, Nettles was traded to the New York Yankees in a six-player swap. The deal proved to be disastrous for Cleveland. Gabe Paul left the Indians shortly after the deal was announced. His departure raised more than a few eyebrows when it was learned that he had joined the ownership group that purchased the Yankees. (Paul returned to Cleveland in 1978 and subsequently made a similar deal, sending star pitcher Dennis Eckersley to Boston. Bell said at the time, “Maybe Gabe’s going to Boston in a couple of years.”)10

Bell was back in familiar territory in 1973 making a smooth transition back to third base. “The important thing to me was playing in the big leagues,” he said. ”Sure, I had some qualms about moving to the outfield, and I did again when I moved back to third base. Both required adjustments, but I think I made those adjustments satisfactorily.”11 Bell’s bat heated up in May and June, as he batted .320 and .350 in those months. He was selected to his first All-Star Game on July 13 at Kansas City. In his lone appearance at the plate, he smashed a pinch-hit triple off Claude Osteen.

Over the next several years, Bell was a model of consistency both in the field and at the plate. He missed some time in 1974 due to a right knee strain. But from 1975 to ’78, Bell hit between six and 11 homers, drove in between 59 and 64 runs, and got between 39 and 51 walks. His batting average fluctuated between .271 and .292. In the field he led the league in putouts in 1975 (146) and in assists in 1978 (355). He was considered one of the top third basemen in the American League.

But what was also consistent was the losing ways of the Cleveland Indians. By the end of the 1974 season, Aspromonte was a lame-duck manager, and was replaced by Frank Robinson. Robby knew it would be a tough road with the Tribe. He encouraged the front office to promote promising minor leaguers to the big-league team. Duane Kuiper, Rick Manning, Dennis Eckersley, and Jim Kern were added to the mix of veterans on the club. Bell was upbeat about the opportunity to play for Robinson, a teammate of his father’s in Cincinnati.  “Frank is going to be a big inspiration to us by the way he plays the game,” said Bell. “He’s always aggressive, and I know that’s how he’ll want us to be. I remember when I first played against him and I thought he was slowing up. But this one time he slid into third base and nearly took my hand off.”12   

But the losing continued and on June 15, 1977, Bell walked out on the Indians. The reason for his AWOL status was termed “personal,” but it was uncharacteristic of Bell to up and leave. “I’ve got a personal problem. I really don’t want to discuss it,” he said.”13 He missed one game, and one exhibition game in Toledo. Three days later, Robinson was fired and replaced by Jeff Torborg. 

Bell met the same fate as Eckersley at the conclusion of the 1978 season. On December 8 he was sent to Texas in a straight-up deal for Toby Harrah. Harrah provided a bit more power and run-producing ability. Bell was bringing his defense to the Rangers. “Buddy has hurt us in the past few years because he moved the ball around so well,” said Texas manager Pat Corrales. “We weren’t able to defend against him. I was impressed. I think he’ll make a good second hitter.”14

The Rangers had tied California for second place in the American League’s West Division in 1978, five games behind Kansas City. Bell was inserted to a 1979 lineup that included Richie Zisk, Al Oliver, Bump Wills, and Pat Putnam. Bell played in all 162 games, leading the league with 670 at-bats. He hit 18 home runs, and he drove in a career-high 101 runs. Bell also established career bests in doubles (42) and runs (89). He batted .299. While his offensive numbers were indeed impressive, it was his defense that was getting rave reviews. He was honored with the first of six straight (1979-1984) Gold Glove Awards as a third baseman. It is the second longest streak for an American League third baseman, behind Brooks Robinson. Bell’s streak was later equaled by Eric Chavez of Oakland (2001-2006).

“I take a lot of pride in my defense,” said Bell. “I’ve always had pretty good hands but I’ve also worked very hard at defense. But to win a Gold Glove puts you in the class of a Nettles or a Brooks Robinson. For a third baseman, that’s a big thrill for me.”15

Others began taking notice of Bell and his mastery of the hot corner. “Nobody can play third better than Buddy Bell,” said California manager Gene Mauch. “Nettles is a great one, too, but Bell amazes me. One thing about Nettles is how deep he plays at third. That makes the big play easier. What he’s doing is telling the pitcher to field the soft stuff and the bunts and he’ll take care of the hot stuff.”16

Speaking of Bell’s former Indians teammate, it was often Nettles who Bell went to for input on playing third. “I go to him for advice,” said Bell. “I ask him about different hitters and how he plays them. For a long time I never played as far off the line as I do now, but Graig told me to move over more, and I did. His explanation was that there were more balls hit in the hole than down the line. And he was right.”17

In 1980, Bell batted.329, hitting 17 home runs and driving in 83 runs. He was selected to the All-Star Game, the first of four All-Star games over the next six seasons. Bell became a star in Texas. But while his abilities were appreciated, the Rangers could not make any headway in the West Division. While the talent seemed to be there, Texas could not rise to the top. California, Chicago, Kansas City, and Oakland all took turns winning division titles during Bell’s stay with the Rangers.

After he hit .315 in 1984, Bell’s batting average plummeted to .235 at the All-Star break in 1985. He had also committed 16 errors to that point in the season, and the Rangers were mired in last place. On July 19, 1985, Bell was dealt to his hometown team, the Cincinnati Reds, for outfielder Duane Walker and pitcher Jeff Russell. Cincinnati had been using a platoon system at third base, employing Nick Esasky and Wayne Krenchicki. “Esasky and Krenchicki were doing a fine job for us,” said Reds skipper Pete Rose. “But this makes us better overall and when you have a chance to get a guy like Buddy Bell, you do it. I hope the ballclub plays the way Buddy Bell plays. He is consistent, year in and year out, and that’s what we’re looking for.”18 

Player Dave Parker had a slightly different take on the trade: “Bell is a hometown boy who can help us on and off the field. He’ll certainly help at the gate and I am sure that was taken into consideration. By getting him, it shows everybody that the front office wants to win.”19 The Reds were in third place at the time, trailing the division-leading Dodgers by five games.      

Bell stepped right in, with the red numeral 25 on the back of his white Reds uniform, the e number Gus had worn three decades earlier. But Bell did not fare well, batting .219 in 67 games. His fielding was also subpar; he made nine errors and fielded at a .946 clip. Although the Reds won 15 of 21 to close out their schedule, they could not catch the Dodgers.

Bell bounced back the following two years. He posted career highs in home runs (20) and walks (73) in 1986 while collecting 75 RBIs and batting .278. In 1987 he hit 17 homers, drove in 70 runs, and hit .284. His .979 fielding percentage was tops among third basemen in the National League. Cincinnati finished second in both years.

Bell lost his starting position to rookie Chris Sabo in 1988. He was traded to Houston on June 19 for a player to be named later. Cincinnati also made the move to clear a roster spot for outfielder Eddie Milner. Bell’s time with the Astros was short and he was released on December 21, 1988. Bell signed a one-year deal with the Rangers. But he was released after just 34 games, and retired on June 24, 1989. He announced his retirement without fanfare, no bells or whistles. “My career was pretty much a secret to begin with, I might as well keep it that way,” said Bell.20 

Buddy Bell retired from baseball with a batting average of .279, 201 home runs, 1,106 RBIs, and 2,514 hits over 18 seasons. He played in 2,405 major-league games. As of 2018 he ranked fourth all time in games played without appearing in the postseason, behind Ernie Banks, Luke Appling, and Mickey Vernon.

Bell did not stray too far from the game he loved. In 1990 he joined the Cleveland organization as a roving minor-league hitting instructor. Next he moved to Chicago, where he was the director of minor-league instruction for the White Sox from 1991 through 1993.

In 1994 Bell joined Cleveland manager Mike Hargrove’s staff as an infield coach. He stayed with the Indians for two seasons. Times had changed for the Indians, and Buddy was able to witness the rebirth of the Indians, who made it to the World Series for the first time since 1954. It was doubly nice for the Bell clan as son David was an Indians utility player for part of the 1995 season. However, it was not all good news, as Gus Bell passed away on May 7, 1995, just as the season was getting under way. 

Bell managed the Detroit Tigers from 1996 to August 31, 1998. He finished second in the Manager of the Year voting in 1997, after guiding the Tigers to a 26-game improvement over the 1996 team. He managed the Colorado Rockies from 2000 to April 25, 2002. Bell returned to Cleveland and served on manager Eric Wedge’s staff as the bench coach from 2003 through May 30, 2005. He left the Indians when he was named to replace Tony Pena as manager of Kansas City, a position he held through the 2007 season. His won-lost record as a manager was 514-715 (.418).

In 1999 Bell was at the helm of the US Baseball Team in the Pan American games in Winnipeg, Canada. They won four games to advance to the medal round, eventually losing to Cuba in the championship game. Their performance enabled the United States to qualify for the 2000 Olympics in Sydney, Australia. 

In 2005 Bell co-wrote, with author Neal Vahle, Smart Baseball: How Professionals Play the Mental Game. In the book, Bell examines the mental makeup of players, past and present, and how they prepare themselves. If it is believed that ballplayers are in top physical condition when they take the field, often it is their mental approach to the game that will determine if they succeed or fail, he maintained.    

In 2005 Bell suffered a personal loss. His nephew Lance Cpl Timothy Bell was killed with 13 other Marines when their amphibious assault vehicle was blown up during combat operations in Iraq. He was the 165th Marine interred at Arlington National Cemetery as a result of Operation Iraq.

In 2006 Bell took a leave of absence from the Royals at the end of the season. It was discovered that he had throat cancer. He made a full recovery, returning to the Royals in 2007, and he managed the entire year.

In 2017 Bell was in his 10th season working in the front office of the Chicago White Sox. He was the vice president/assistant to general manager Rick Hahn and director of player development. In 2015 he received the Sheldon “Chief” Bender Award, given annually to someone who has been instrumental in player development. “I am incredibly humbled by this award as I had the distinct honor of working alongside Chief in the Reds organization in 1999,” Bell said. “I learned something new every day. The knowledge I gleaned has been invaluable to me ever since, and I am thrilled to be joining the impressive list of recipients who have received this award before me.”21   

After the 2017 season, Bell returned to his hometown of Cincinnati. He was named the Reds’ senior advisor to General Manager and president of baseball operations, Dick Williams.    

Last revised: July 1, 2018

Notes

1 Joe Giuliotti, “Bell Didn’t Try for HRs,” Boston Herald, July 6, 1975: 35. 

2 Ibid.

3 Chuck Heaton, “Bell’s Two HRs Nail 4th in a Row,” Cleveland Plain Dealer, July 6, 1975: 3-2.

4 Russell Schneider, “Bell Rejects All-Star Bid,” Cleveland Plain Dealer, July 11, 1975: 1-C.  

5 Ibid.                                    

6 Ibid.

7 Ibid.

8 Joe Quinn, “Buddy Bell: From Moeller to the Majors,” Greater Cincinnati Sports, September 1978 (In Bell’s Hall of Fame File).

9 Quinn.

10  Dan Coughlin, “Indians’ Bell Waiting for Other Shoe to Fall,” Cleveland Plain Dealer, March 31, 1978: 38.

11  Russell Schneider, “Bell’s Hot Stick Sounding Alarm to A.L Hurlers,” The Sporting News, June 16, 1973: 28.

12  Associated Press, Associated Press, March 4, 1975 (In Bell’s Hall of Fame file.)

13  Chuck Heaton, “Buddy Takes Night Off,” Cleveland Plain Dealer, June 16, 1977: 1-E.

14  Randy Galloway, “Bell Says Difference Is Talent,” Dallas Morning News, December 9, 1978: 2B.

15  Randy Galloway, “Bell, Sundberg Voted Gold Glove Awards,” Dallas Morning News, November 22, 1979: 2B.

16  Randy Galloway, “Nettles the Greatest? Someone Forgot Bell,” Dallas Morning News, October 25, 1981.

17  Ibid.

18  Hal McCoy, “Deposed Reds Voice Gripes,” The Sporting News, August 5, 1985: 16. 

19  Ibid.

20  T.R. Sullivan, “Bye-bye Buddy,” Fort Worth Star-Telegram, June 25, 1989: 2.

21  Rhett Bollinger and Joey Nowak, “Bell Honored with ‘Chief’ Bender Award,” milb.com, accessed November 29, 2015.

Johnny Lee Bench was born on December 7, 1947, in Oklahoma City, the son of Ted, a truck driver, and Katy Bench. The family moved a few times in the area but eventually settled in Binger, about 60 miles west of Oklahoma City, when John was about 5. He had two older brothers, Teddy and William, and a younger sister, Marilyn. It was in Binger that John remembered first playing ball, using, as many kids from his generation recall, balls and bats kept together with electrical tape. Ted had been a ballplayer, playing in high school and in the US Army, but by the time World War II ended he was too old. Instead, he poured his dreams into his three boys, all of whom played organized ball in the area. Ted started a boys’ team when Johnny was 6, buying the uniforms and driving the team to games in his truck. Johnny played catcher right away. “My father said catching was the quickest way to the big leagues, because that’s what they wanted,” Bench recalled.1

Bench remembered being inspired watching fellow Oklahoman Mickey Mantle on television as a kid. Mantle was from Commerce, nearly 300 miles away, but his rise to stardom helped plant a seed of possibility in the youngster’s head. By the second grade Bench was telling his teacher that he was going to be a major-league ballplayer, and within a few years he was practicing his autograph to prepare for his future. He played catcher and pitcher throughout his youth in organized leagues, from Little League through American Legion. While starring in both basketball and baseball at Binger High School (he was All-State in each sport), and excelling academically (valedictorian in his class of 21), he did a lot of hunting and worked hard—picking cotton, working in the peanut fields, and mowing lawns. His high-school years were also marred by a tragic accident—a bus carrying his baseball team lost its brakes and rolled down a 50-foot ravine, killing two of Bench’s friends and teammates. Bench was knocked unconscious but otherwise escaped physical harm. The details of the event remained with him for many years, however.2

In June 1965, in baseball’s first free-agent draft for amateurs, the Cincinnati Reds selected Bench in the second round, the 36th overall pick. Bench briefly considered attending college on a baseball/basketball scholarship, but instead signed with Cincinnati scout Tony Robello for $6,000 plus college tuition. Bench was assigned to Tampa of the Florida State League, where he played with Bernie Carbo and Hal McRae. He hit .248 with two home runs, but drew good reviews for his defense. The next spring he trained with the Reds, also in Tampa, and the 18-year-old was confident. “To tell the truth,” he recalled, “I wasn’t overwhelmed.”3 While some youngsters take years to feel comfortable with their major-league teammates, Bench immediately felt, and acted, like a leader.

Reds manager Don Heffner considered keeping the 18-year-old Bench in 1966, but instead sent him to Hampton, Virginia, to play for the Peninsula Grays in the Single-A Carolina League. All he did there was win the league Player of the Year award, hitting .294 with 22 home runs before being called up to Triple-A Buffalo. Before he left, the Peninsula club retired his uniform number 8. Bench’s stay in Buffalo was not so kind—in his very first inning for the club he took a foul tip on his right thumb and broke it, ending his season. What’s more, on his long drive back to Binger, driving a 1965 Ford Fairlane he had bought with his bonus money, he collided with a drunk driver and wound up in the hospital. Again, as in the bus crash in high school, Bench felt lucky to escape, only having to endure 27 stitches in his scalp.

Still just 19, Bench returned to Buffalo in 1967 and starred, hitting .259 with 23 home runs and playing great defense. Buffalo was a veteran team, filled with former major leaguers in their 30s. Bench later credited the veterans on the club for being supportive and not resentful of his future and promise. Steve Boros, who roomed with Bench, was particularly helpful, teaching the youngster how to focus on the game with all the distractions available to a young man away from home.4 After the season Bench was named the Minor League Player of the Year by The Sporting News.

The Reds promoted Bench in late August, and he started 26 games down the stretch for a team out of contention. He got his first hit off the Phillies’ Chris Short on August 30, and his first home run off the Braves’ Jim Britton in Atlanta on September 20. Bench did not hit well that month (.163 and the one homer) but the Reds saw enough to make a commitment, trading two-time Gold Glove and three-time All-Star catcher Johnny Edwards (just 29 years old) to St. Louis to clear the way for the 20-year-old Bench. In March 1968 he was one of five young players featured on the cover of Sports Illustrated, beneath the headline “The Best Rookies of 1968.”5

Bench’s rise to stardom was rapid. After playing briefly in two early season contests, he got his first start on April 17 and stayed in the lineup for 81 straight games. In all, he caught 154 games, a record for a rookie catcher, and hit .272 with 15 home runs and 82 RBIs. These were excellent numbers in 1968, when the league average was .243. Bench’s power numbers led all league catchers, and his 40 doubles were third in the league for all players. Though he started slowly, by September he was batting fourth for the team that scored the most runs in the league. Bench was selected to his first All-Star Game, catching the ninth inning of the National League’s 1-0 victory in Houston’s Astrodome, and was named the NL Rookie of the Year after the season.

It was for his defense that Bench garnered his most praise. Of his throwing arm, which would keep would-be base stealers honest for the next decade, Roy Blount, Jr. wrote, “It is about the size of a good healthy leg, and it works like a recoilless rifle.”6 Bench had grown to 6-feet-1 and 200 pounds, but he seemed both larger and more agile. He had huge hands—he could palm a basketball in high school, and could hold seven baseballs in his throwing hand (a feat he was often called on to perform for the cameras). He caught one-handed, one of the first catchers to do so, with his right hand resting behind his back to protect it from foul tips—Bench had broken his thumb in Buffalo in 1966, after all. He used a hinged catcher’s mitt, rather than the prevalent circular “pillow” style, allowing him to better make plays on bunts or on plays at the plate. After Bench took a high throw and tagged out a Chicago runner in his rookie year, Cubs manager Leo Durocher exclaimed, “I still don’t believe it. I have never seen that play executed so precisely.”7 Herman Franks, the Giants’ manager (and former major league receiver), saw Bench make a similar play against his club, and said afterwards that Bench was the “best catcher I’ve seen in 20 years.”8 It was no surprise when he became the first rookie catcher to win a Gold Glove for his defense.

Along with his great catching, Bench stood out for his confident leadership at a young age. The Reds pitchers marveled at how great a game he could call, how well he knew the league’s hitters so quickly. In 1967, during his late-season call up, the 19-year-old went out into the infield and told veteran shortstop Leo Cardenas to reposition himself for the upcoming batter. Cardenas screamed at his catcher and did not move, but this did not change Bench’s belief that he had acted properly. In his rookie year he would often go out the mound and tell the pitcher to bear down, or throw harder, or not be afraid to throw the curve to the next hitter. The 20-year-old once deigned to instruct Jim Maloney, the team’s star pitcher, who stared at him in disbelief. Manager Dave Bristol waved Bench back to the plate, then smiled and told the pitcher, “You know, he’s right.” Maloney soon came around. “So help me, this kid coaches me. And I like it. … When you’re in a big sweat and nervous, he can calm you down more ways than I have ever seen.”9

One of the best players in the game as a rookie, Bench got better still. His world-class defense remained stellar, as he won Gold Gloves in his first ten seasons and became arguably the greatest defensive catcher in history. In 1969 he hit 26 home runs, drove in 90 runs, and batted .293, establishing himself as the best-hitting catcher in the game. He started his first All-Star Game, hitting a long home run and a single, before getting robbed of a second home run by Carl Yastrzemski’s leaping grab over the left-field fence at Washington’s RFK Stadium. The Reds rode their great hitting into the NL West race before ending in third place, four games behind the Atlanta Braves.

After the season the Reds hired Sparky Anderson as manager, promoted a few key rookies, and became a juggernaut. The 1970 club had a ten-game lead in mid-June and never looked back, finishing with 102 wins and an easy division title. Bench led the way with an astonishing season, topping the league with 45 home runs and 148 RBIs and easily capturing the league MVP award. Although the season ended in disappointment in a five-game World Series loss to the Baltimore Orioles, Johnny Bench had become as big as baseball star as there was—a 22-year-old seemingly without weakness on the field, and a handsome and articulate person off the field. Not surprisingly, he was besieged with endorsement opportunities and banquet invitations. He went to Vietnam with Bob Hope and the USO, golfed with Arnold Palmer, talked and sang on talk shows, appeared in the television program Mission Impossible, and began hosting his own weekly television show in Cincinnati. As Bench later put it, “My push for visibility during the offseason, even at age twenty-two, was intentional.”10

After a heavy workload in Bench’s first two seasons, Anderson began “resting” him by playing him at other positions for entire games or for partial games—in 1970 he started games at first base and all three outfield positions, a total of 22 games. His biggest offensive performance of 1970 came in a July 26 game at the new Riverfront Stadium in which he played left field: 4-for-5, including three home runs, all off Cardinals pitcher Steve Carlton. Throughout the remainder of his prime catching years, Bench generally started 20 or 30 games at other positions, keeping his bat in the lineup while giving his legs a bit of a rest.

The 1971 season was a bump in the road for the Reds (who fell to fourth place) and for Bench (who hit just .238 with 27 homers). The team played without an injured Bobby Tolan all year and also had off-years from Tony Perez and several other players, and Bench’s drop of 87 RBIs (from 148 to 61) is telling both for Bench’s performance and the fewer baserunners ahead of him. He still won his usual Gold Glove, and hit a long home run off Vida Blue in the All-Star Game at Detroit’s Tiger Stadium. But for Bench, it was a humbling season.

Fortified by the acquisition of second baseman Joe Morgan and others in the offseason, Bench and the Reds stormed back in 1972, winning the division by 10½ games and returning to the postseason. In the bottom of the ninth inning of the decisive Game Five of the NLCS, Bench’s dramatic lead-off home run to right field against Pittsburgh’s Dave Guisti tied the contest before the Reds plated another run to win the NL pennant. Bench led the way with a league-leading 40 home runs and 125 RBIs, while also drawing 100 walks, for a club that lost a seven-game World Series to the Oakland Athletics. The most memorable image of Bench from that Fall Classic is one he would like to forget. In the top of the eighth inning of Game Three in Oakland, Bench was facing Rollie Fingers with runners on second and third and one out. The Reds were leading 1-0 in the game, but trailing in the series, 2-0. When the count reached 3 and 2, Oakland manager Dick Williams came out to the mound and pointed to Bench and first base, a clear signal that he wanted to walk the slugger. The A’s catcher, Gene Tenace, after returning from the conference on the mound stood to receive an intentional ball, then slyly resumed his position as Fingers threw a slider on the outside corner that Bench took with his bat on his shoulder. A memorable moment, but Bench could take solace that the Reds held on to win the game.

Late in the 1972 season a routine physical examination turned up a growth on Bench’s lung that the doctors could not identify. Telling only close friends and the Reds management, Bench played the end of the season and the postseason with understandable worry hanging over his head. He finally had an operation on December 9. The surgeon had to make a 12-inch incision under his right arm and break a rib, finally extracting a benign lesion that Bench likely got from breathing an airborne fungus. After several weeks of pain from the operation, Bench went to spring training fully healed.

The next two seasons were excellent ones for Bench and the Reds, though the club began to get a reputation as a great team that could not finish it off in October. The 1973 club won 99 games, the most in baseball, yet lost the playoff series to a New York Mets team with 82 wins. The next year they won 98 games, but lost the NL West to the Dodgers. Bench contributed 25 home runs and 104 RBIs to the 1973 club, then 33 and 129 in 1974, his third time leading the league in RBIs.

The Reds finally broke through with their long-expected championship in 1975, winning 108 games (the most in the NL in 66 years) and defeating the Pittsburgh Pirates in the playoffs and the Boston Red Sox in a dramatic seven-game World Series. Bench hit a big double to start a decisive rally in the ninth inning of Game Two and homered off Rick Wise to begin the Cincinnati scoring in Game Three, but all that took a back seat when he embraced Will McEnaney, a famous image captured on the cover of Sports Illustrated, after the final out in the final game. Personally, it was a difficult year despite his success. He hurt his shoulder in a collision at home plate in April and hit well through a lot of pain (28 home runs, 110 RBIs, .283 average), before battling the flu through most of the postseason.

Bench’s off-field life also became very public during the year. He had always had a very active social life, a very eligible bachelor regularly photographed with models and actresses. This ended before the 1975 season when he married Vicki Lynne Chesser, who had been Miss South Carolina and a runner-up in the 1970 Miss USA pageant. Bench saw her in a toothpaste commercial and called her up for a date. The two knew each other for four days when Bench proposed, and seven weeks when they married. By the end of the 1975 season they were separated, and divorced quickly. The two had a large, public wedding, and details of their rocky relationship inevitably found their way into the tabloids as well. Bench soon returned to his bachelor ways. “There used to be a lot of beautiful women down at the ballpark,” said a friend. “Now, they’re going to be back.”11 Bench remained single for the rest of his playing career.

The next season was another great one for the Reds, and Bench’s life off the field was less stressful, but he battled cramps in his back that affected his swing and his throwing. His 135 games were then a career low, and he slumped to hit .234 with just 74 RBIs for a great offensive team. After what might have been his worst regular season, Bench tacked on his greatest postseason, hitting .444 with three home runs as the Reds swept the Philadelphia Phillies and New York Yankees in seven total games. “When Johnny Bench was born,” Sparky Anderson told the press in the raucous clubhouse after the World Series, “I believe God came down and touched his mother on the forehead and said, ‘I’m going to give you a son who will be one of the greatest baseball players ever seen.’ ” For Bench, after his down season, the feeling was even better than 1975; he called it a “personal triumph.”12

Bench had his last big season in 1977, bouncing back to hit 31 home runs, drive home 109 runs, and bat .275, while capturing his tenth consecutive Gold Glove. The Reds fell to 88 wins and second place in the NL West, and the Big Red Machine began to fade away. Tony Perez was traded after the 1976 season, and within a few years Sparky Anderson, Pete Rose, and Joe Morgan were wearing different uniforms. Only Bench stayed on, signing a five-year contract at $400,000 per year after the 1977 season. It was big money for the time, but he could have gotten more had he signed elsewhere.

At the end of the 1977 season the 29-year-old Bench had played ten years and many historians had concluded that he was the greatest catcher ever. He had had a couple of “off” years, slumps he attributed to catching every day. During his career he broke six bones in each foot from foul tips, twice broke his thumb, and also battled problems with his back and shoulder from collisions. After his playing career he had left and right hip replacements, injuries he dated back to his bus and car accidents as a teenager. Bench knew the price he paid, but took pride in his reputation for playing with pain. “Are there times I wish I hadn’t caught? Sure. But then I wouldn’t have been Johnny Bench.”13

Bench remained a star for a few more years, though minor injuries kept him out of the lineup or at other positions more and more. He played in just 120 games (with 96 starts at catcher) in 1978, though he continued to hit well (23 home runs). He played a bit more in 1979 (130 games) for new manager John McNamara, and drove in 80 runs. The revamped Reds’ surprising division title brought Bench to the postseason for the sixth and final time, and he finished 3-for-12 with a home run in the three-game NLCS sweep by the Pirates. Bench played in ten postseason series and hit at least one home run in nine of them.

After one final season as a fine-hitting catcher (24 home runs in 114 games), Bench played the infield for the rest of his career. He played first base and battled injuries during the strike-shortened 1981 season, then finished up with two forgettable years as a mediocre third baseman. As he might have said, he was no longer Johnny Bench. He announced his retirement from the game during the 1983 season, and spent the rest of the summer playing to cheers at all the different National League parks. In his final at-bat, on September 29, 1983, he stroked a pinch-hit two-run single off the Giants’ Mark Calvert before the home crowd at Riverfront Stadium. Gary Redus pinch-ran, and Bench’s magnificent career was over.

In the ensuing years, Bench remained a public figure around baseball. He broadcast games on radio and television, and in the 1980s hosted The Baseball Bunch, a syndicated TV show in which a group of boys and girls learned the finer points of the game from Bench and other current or former players. He became a regular public speaker and was often called upon by the Reds or Major League Baseball to speak at a ceremony to honor an old teammate or a new ballpark. An avid and excellent golfer, he participated in many celebrity events during his career, and in senior tour events once he turned 50 years old.

As of 2012 Bench was married to his fourth wife, the former Lauren Biachaai. Bench’s son Bobby was born in 1989 and graduated from Boston University, and Johnny and Lauren had two sons, Justin and Joshua.

Bench was elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1989, receiving 96 percent of the vote in his first year of eligibility. He had made the Reds’ Hall of Fame in 1986, when the club permanently retired his uniform number 5. He was named to Major League Baseball’s All-Century team as the top-ranking catcher, and many organizations have named him baseball’s best-ever catcher. Since 2000 the Johnny Bench Award has been presented after the conclusion of the College World Series to honor the top Division I Baseball catcher. In 2008 the Reds honored him again, with a bronze statue outside the new Great American Ballpark. Fittingly, the statue shows Bench in full gear throwing out a runner with his powerful right arm.

No one has ever done it better.

Last revised: May 1, 2014

This biography is included in the book “The Great Eight: The 1975 Cincinnati Reds” (University of Nebraska Press, 2014), edited by Mark Armour. For more information, or to purchase the book from University of Nebraska Press, click here.

Notes