Arlington Stadium has a history that deserves to be told. It is a bit unknown, but certainly worthy of telling.

The story started in 1959 when residents of the Dallas-Fort Worth area voted to approve a bond for a small minor-league ballpark to be built in the centrally located suburb of Arlington, Texas. It was eventually decided that the site would be a 137-acre open area sitting adjacent to Six Flags Over Texas, one of the original high-scale theme parks in the country.1 It would be 13 years from the time of the vote until the ballpark could gain anywhere near the traffic or revenue of its neighbor. But in 1972, after a long pursuit process led primarily by Arlington Mayor Tom Vandergriff, the Washington Senators made the move from D.C. to the up-and-coming Metroplex, changing their name in the process to the Texas Rangers.

The ballpark, though, built a few years after the vote passed, began as a 10,500-seat minor-league park called Turnpike Stadium. It hosted the Dallas-Fort Worth Spurs of the Double-A Texas League from 1965 to 1971.

Building the ballpark in its initial form cost $1.9 million. Through the years it would see many add-ons, which all told cost exactly 10 times that, $19 million.2 To fulfill the requirements of hosting a major-league team, the City of Arlington organized efforts to alter the ballpark significantly. The changes began in 1970 two years before the Texas Rangers became a reality. In 1970 the ballpark capacity was doubled, to 20,000 seats. In 1972, the first season of its major-league life, the stadium capacity expanded to 35,739.

The first game at Turnpike Stadium was played on April 23, 1965. Seven years later, on April 21, 1972, the rebuilt and renamed ballpark hosted its first major-league baseball game, the Texas Rangers playing the visiting California Angels. The ballpark had been set to debut as a major-league park earlier, but the start of the season was delayed slightly because of a players strike. The Rangers’ season began on April 15, when the team played the Angels in Anaheim. In the home opener on the 21st the Rangers enjoyed a fast start, when Frank Howard’s first-inning home run became the ballpark’s first major-league run and home run. The Rangers won the game, 7-6.3

The inaugural home game was one of the few bright spots in the team’s opening season in Arlington. The Rangers limped along to a 54-100 record, including 31-46 at home. (Four of the 31 victories came in that opening series, as the Rangers swept the Angels, and ended the set tied for first in the AL West division.)

The tie lasted only one game, and was not achieved again during the 1972 season. But for a long weekend in mid-April, the Texas Rangers looked as if they might be a contender.

The attendance at the first contest at Arlington Stadium was 20,105, making it a poorly attended inaugural major-league contest. A night later 5,517 paid to watch the Rangers’ second home game. Sunday’s attendance was 11,586. Over the course of the season, the Rangers never neared a sellout. Only twice did they top 20,000.

The Rangers finished 10th out of 12 American League franchises in attendance, attracting 662,974 to the renovated minor-league park for big-league action. The play on the field may have been one major reason. The sparse crowds saw few wins, and especially few of the most exciting kind. The Rangers had only three walk-off wins in 1972. Those were the most exciting moments in the ballpark during the 1972 season. It is almost impossible to have so few walk-off wins. It is almost as if the team planned to torture their new home fans.

Other factors prevented the average fan from coming out to the ballpark. Among them was the heat. The Dallas Metroplex is among the hottest regions in the United States. Because of that, the Rangers schedule all but a few home games for nighttime.

The ballpark’s construction did not help. The playing field was below ground level, with the stands ascending to the level of the parking lot. Warm air started at the playing level and rose to the top, creating an unfriendly atmosphere for players and fans alike. One writer called the outfield stands “the world’s largest open-air roaster.”4

When the upper deck was built in 1978, some fans would not walk down to their seats but would travel upward. But the rising heat remained and the ballpark never became a comfortable place to play in or watch a baseball game.

The evolution of the ballpark was extensive from its opening in 1965 to when it was replaced in 1994. The 1978 upper-deck expansion brought the seating capacity to 41,097. Further expansions after 1978 brought the capacity to 43,508 in 1985 and finally to 43,521 in the stadium’s final season hosting Rangers baseball. The 43,000-plus capacity made for quite a contrast to the original Turnpike Stadium. The left-field façade above the field featured a scoreboard shaped like the state of Texas. It was replaced in 1983 with a more standardized Diamond Vision scoreboard.5

Some factors remained the same throughout. One was the outfield wall dimensions. The down-the-line right-field and left-field distances remained 330 feet throughout the Rangers’ tenure in the park, and straightaway center field remained 400 feet. The only changes came in right-center and left-center, which began at 370 feet, became 383 for one season (1981), and then dropped three feet to 380 for the remainder of the ballpark’s lifetime, making it still a tough power alley to traverse, especially in a day when home runs were not aplenty.6 Turnpike Stadium, aka Arlington Stadium, was similar to other ballparks in another sense. As was common when it was built, the bullpens were crafted into the field of play, along the foul lines. The Rangers bullpen was down the right-field line, as their dugout sat on the first-base side.

Of all the games played in Arlington Stadium the one on Sunday, September 30, 1984, is by far the best-known. Mike Witt, lanky California Angels right-hander and four-year veteran, sliced through the Rangers’ lineup with a combination of wicked curves (55), fastballs (37), and changeups (just two), to retire all 27 Rangers in a row. The perfect game was the ninth in what is commonly referred to as the modern era of baseball, and 11th overall (including Don Larsen’s perfect game in the 1956 World Series). Witt’s 94 total pitches were the fifth fewest thrown among the 21 modern-era perfect games (in Cy Young’s perfect game the pitch total is not known, as is the case with the pre-modern-era games). Witt’s brilliance – and that of his opposing pitcher, Charlie Hough, who gave up one unearned run on seven hits – was evident by the rapid nature of the 1-0 final, which ended in one hour and 49 minutes. Unfortunately few people witnessed this season finale, as only 8,375 fans paid to watch the historic performance.

Some of the game’s most colorful personalities held a seat, and cast watchful eyes, in the first-base dugout over the years. Among the Rangers managers while the team played at Arlington Stadium were Ted Williams, one of the greatest hitters of all time (1972); Whitey Herzog, better known for leading the Kansas City Royals and St. Louis Cardinals to great success (1973); Billy Martin, who was hired and fired multiple times by the New York Yankees’ mercurial owner George Steinbrenner (1973-75); Don Zimmer, one of the all-time characters and best-respected men in baseball (1981-82); and the always colorful Bobby Valentine (1985-92). The Rangers’ manager in their final season in Arlington Stadium was Kevin Kennedy, who lasted two seasons (1993-94) and later became a broadcaster.

Some great broadcasters occupied the home broadcast booth at Arlington Stadium.7 In the Rangers’ inaugural season, Bill Mercer and Los Angeles Dodgers Hall of Famer Don Drysdale provided play-by-play and color commentary respectively for both radio and television. In 1978 Jon Miller began a short stint as play-by-play commentator for both television and radio. His tenure lasted just two years, but produced fruit beyond Miller’s ascension to national prominence. It also provided an opportunity for Eric Nadel to gain experience behind the mike. He began in Miller’s second season, as a television voice exclusively. The next year, 1980, he established himself as the pre-eminent radio voice of the Rangers. Thirty-five years after he began calling Rangers games from a creaky old broadcast booth in an unenthusiastic stadium, Nadel won the Ford C. Frick Award in 2014. The Frick honor is given annually to a baseball announcer who exudes excellence in his craft, courtesy of the National Baseball Hall of Fame.8

Tom Vandergriff, the mayor who was responsible for bringing the Rangers to Arlington, spent three seasons in the television booth next to Dick Risenhoover (1975-77). Vandergriff spent 26 years in the mayor’s seat in Arlington. The last three coincided with the time he was calling Rangers games. But it is not as quirky as one might expect. When he was just 16, Vandergriff took a job as a radio broadcaster with KFJZ Radio in Fort Worth. Because of his work as a broadcaster, but more importantly for bringing the Rangers to Arlington, getting a ballpark built and then another one in 1994, Vandergriff was inducted into the Texas Rangers Baseball Hall of Fame in 2004.9

Vandergriff was clearly a man of vision and results. Yet it is difficult to assess whether he could have foreseen some of the oddball innovations coming out of Arlington Stadium. For instance, Arlington Stadium was the birthplace of ballpark nachos. The heated, juicy cheese dip and tortilla chips are now the most common and inexpensive food item available at most sports and entertainment venues.

Another mainstay in American sporting events is the dot race. It has evolved to a point where it is generally a series of culturally relevant artifacts taking semi-lifelike form and racing around the city in video form. Whatever form it takes nowadays, its genesis ought to be understood as being an Arlington Stadium creation.

Yet none of those innovations are as uniquely Texas as this: Arlington Stadium became the birthplace of unique culturally relevant songs being played, sung, and danced to between the top and bottom halves of the seventh inning. While “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” is the iconic fans’ song, at some point the Rangers determined that replacing it with “Cotton Eye Joe” was a good idea. It turned out to be, as it was an almost instant hit, and of course uniquely Texas.

The ballpark was featured in the movie Bull Durham.10 In the film it is the ballpark where Tim Robbins’ character is interviewed after making it to the major leagues. But Arlington Stadium was not a hotbed for movie production or other kinds of attractions during its hosting the Rangers or after. Even the Six Flags next door could not bring people out to the yard. The 1991 season was the team’s best in attendance at 2,297,720 paying customers. It still did not compare to Yankee Stadium or Dodger Stadium, which seated more spectators than the Rangers’ eventual 43,000.

Then again, it is not incorrect to note how Arlington Stadium was not exactly the most aesthetically pleasing yard, even with its standard but beautiful Tifway 419 Bermuda sod11 spread across the 110,000 square feet of playing surface.12

The ballpark did hold two other distinctions while it was in use. The outfield bleachers took up more space and spanned more of the ballpark than at any other major-league ballpark. Also, the outfield fences and other façade areas surrounding the playing field held more advertisements than any other ballpark. In today’s world of marketing and commercialization it would not garner much attention, but in the 1980s the space given in the ballpark to advertising was quite noteworthy.

None of the advertising, seating capacity, or improved product on the field could keep Arlington Stadium from giving in to father time. It, like the “Ryan Express,” had an expiration date. The expiration of the two coincided as one. Future Hall of Fame pitcher Nolan Ryan finished his career with the Rangers, making just 13 starts in 1993. And just as Ryan’s career had an unsatisfactory ending, so too did the Rangers’ time at Arlington Stadium.

On October 3, 1993, the Rangers played their final home game in the rundown stadium and lost. Future All-Star Kevin Appier held the Rangers to one run on four hits in eight innings while striking out 10 batters. Greg Gagne provided all the offense needed when he hit a two-run homer. It was a rather fitting end to the ballpark’s existence. A game that began with much hope for victory had it swallowed away by the opponent. The Rangers needed a new ballpark if for no other reason than to turn the tide of their franchise. The remedy proved worthwhile, as the Rangers began an era of winning baseball almost immediately upon transitioning into their brand-new ballpark across the street.  

While the new ballpark proved a welcome change for the franchise, it was not exactly good news for the old ballpark. Some ballparks survive years past their existence of hosting a professional team. Not Arlington Stadium. For a short time the Rangers’ old home and new home existed alongside each other, with merely a street between them. But for the opportunity to create a more modern environment around the new stadium, the ballpark was allowed to decay. Weeds and erosion made it look more like a jungle than a former baseball field.

Some of the seats were torn out after the final out of the 1993 season, making room for the grass to overgrow and overflow into the abandoned stands. Mounds of dirt hills came into being, so that the yard could hold a motocross race. Arlington Stadium became ghastly in appearance. It was finally demolished in 1994, and the site as of 2016 was the parking lot for the new ballpark, with nothing remaining to indicate there was a ballpark there, not even a home-plate marker. All that is left behind is the memory of a tortured stadium that was too hot for comfort. Beyond anything, the memory of Arlington Stadium was the heat. Rangers fans today are happy to have a more weather-friendly stadium to go to for watching their hometown team play baseball.

This biography was published in “1972 Texas Rangers: The Team that Couldn’t Hit” (SABR, 2019), edited by Steve West and Bill Nowlin.

Sources

Besides the sources cited in the Notes, the author consulted Baseball-Reference.com and “Tifway Bermuda Sod,” supersod.com/sod/bermuda-sod/tifway-bermuda.html.

Notes

1 “Arlington Stadium,” ballparksofbaseball.com/past/ArlingtonStadium.htm.

2 Ibid.

3 “Texas Rangers,” sportsencyclopedia.com/al/texas/texrangers.html.

4 “Arlington Stadium,” baseball-reference.com/bullpen/Arlington_Stadium.

5 “Arlington Stadium,” ballparks.com/baseball/american/arling.htm.

6 “Arlington Stadium,” seamheads.com/ballparks/ballpark.php?parkID=ARL01.

7 “All-Time Broadcasters,” texas.rangers.mlb.com/tex/history/broadcasters.jsp.

8 Barry M. Bloom, “Rangers Broadcaster Nadel Wins Frick Award,” m.mlb.com/news/article/64578256/.

9 “Hall of Mayors: Tom Vandergriff,” arlington-tx.gov/history/hall-mayors/tom-j-vandergriff/.

10 “On Location … Bull Durham Filming Locations,” fast-rewind.com/locations_bulldurham.htm.

11 “Arlington Stadium,” ballparks.com/baseball/american/arling.htm.

12 “Arlington Stadium,” seamheads.com/ballparks/ballpark.php?parkID=ARL01.

Lawrence David Biittner was born on July 27, 1946, one of a dozen children of Edward Oscar and Henrietta Amollia (Stoulil) Biittner in the tiny Iowa city of Pocahontas, 200 miles southwest of Minneapolis, Minnesota. His paternal grandparents appear to have arrived separately in the United States from Bavaria as teenagers in 1879. They married 10 years later and settled in Iowa to raise their large family (the surname was changed from Büttner (pronounced “Beautner”). They farmed the “rich, dark loam … [of] undisturbed drift soil”3 in Pocahontas County, a pursuit that Larry’s father followed.

Larry attended Pocahontas Catholic High, where he demonstrated tremendous prowess in basketball and baseball. In the former he shattered various Iowa prep-school scoring records to earn All-State honors his junior and senior years. This hardwood success won him induction into the Iowa High School Athletic Association Basketball Hall of Fame. (Through 2015 right-handed slugger Casey Blake is the only other inductee to advance to the major leagues.) After graduating from high school in 1964, Biittner received a basketball scholarship from Drake University in Des Moines, Iowa.

With a near-exclusive focus on basketball alone, Biittner tired of Drake. He transferred to Buena Vista College in Storm Lake, Iowa (30 miles west of Pocahontas), on a double scholarship to include baseball.4 Biittner’s induction into the Iowa High School Baseball Coaches Association Hall of Fame (primarily as a pitcher) demonstrated finesse nurtured further by four-time Iowa Intercollegiate Athletic Conference Coach of the Year Jay Beekman. The pair led the Buena Vista Beavers to a state championship in 1965. Three years later, Biittner’s 8-0 record earned NAIA All-Star placement.5 He had attracted professional scouts in high school. In 1968, as he neared completion of a degree in physical education, this attention intensified.

Central Scouting Bureau’s Joe McDermott, a former minor-league player, manager, and owner, was one such scout. His notes on Biittner (including a remarkably frank closing assessment):

“I have followed this boy in high school and college. Saw him pitch, play [first base] and outfield. Pitched real well at Wichita Tournament. Led his college conference in all departments. I like him at [first base or outfield]. Poor family. Will sign.”6

If McDermott believed he would easily sign Biittner, that privilege went instead to former minor-league pitcher and manager Lee Anthony. The Washington Senators scout persuaded the club to select Biittner in the 10th round of the June 1968 amateur draft. The Senators planned to send him to Geneva, New York, (short-season A) as a pitcher, but changed course after determining Biittner to be a better hitter than pitcher. He was advanced instead to Double-A Savannah, Georgia, where he played outfield and first base. Biittner’s .286 average in 199 at-bats placed among the team leaders; afterward he played in the Florida Instructional League.

Biittner spent most of 1969 in the US Army. When he was discharged, the season was almost over. He made just 14 appearances with Savannah before a second assignment to the Instructional League. A standout Florida campaign earned placement on Washington’s 40-man roster. In the spring of 1970 Biittner was reassigned to Double-A Pittsfield, Massachusetts, in the Eastern League. On May 20 he set the tone for the season by going 5-for-6 in a doubleheader against the Reading Phillies. On July 14 he returned from another (much shorter) military stint to again beat up on the Phillies: 4-for-6 to lead Pittsfield to an 11-7 win. After the Senators (worst in the American League in batting) lost two players to injury, they recalled Biittner.

On July 17, 1970, Biittner made his major-league debut, as a pinch-hitter against the California Angels – a weak groundout to lefty hurler Clyde Wright. Four days later, Biittner had a second pinch-hit appearance – a fly out – before returning to Pittsfield. Despite the abbreviated stay, he captured considerable attention: “[Manager Ted] Williams was enthused after watching Biittner in batting practice. Ted wants the young left-handed hitting outfielder to get about 500 more times at bat in the minors and thinks he will then be ready. … ‘[Williams] talked quite a lot about the logics of hitting,’ Biittner said. ‘He advised me to bring my hips into the ball a little faster.’”7

Biittner returned to Pittsfield in time to capture the league’s Player of the Month honor for July. On August 1 he collected two hits in the All-Star game. Ten days later he led his team to a 6-2 win over Elmira with two doubles and three RBIs. On September 22 Biittner was a triple shy of the cycle as his four hits paced Pittsfield to another win over Reading. He finished the season with a .325 average, .0001 behind Reading slugger Greg Luzinski for the batting title. Biittner’s hot bat continued through a third Instructional League assignment, placing among the league leaders with a .350 average.

Biittner reported to spring training in 1971 among outfield hopefuls Jeff Burroughs and Tom Grieve. A crowded field greeted the three youngsters following the Senators’ offseason acquisition of outfielder Elliott Maddox and first baseman Tommy McCraw. On March 6 Biittner made an impressive start in Grapefruit League competition with three hits and two runs scored in a 3-1 win over the Montreal Expos. But in late March all three young hopefuls were assigned to the Senators’ minor-league camp.

Biittner’s assignment to the Triple-A Denver Bears proved very short. He lashed out against American Association pitching at a .356 pace, including a five-RBI game against the Tulsa Oilers on April 14. At the same time Senators reserve outfielder Richie Scheinblum struggled below .155. Scheinblum was released and Biittner recalled. On May 18 Biittner collected his first major-league hit: a ninth-inning pinch-hit single off Cleveland Indians reliever Vince Colbert. Biittner came around to score. He earned his first starting assignment the next day. An 11-at-bat drought gave way to a 12-for-19 surge, including two three-hit performances contributing to two Senators victories (the team managed a mere 63 wins for the season). Another three-hit outing on June 30 included Biittner’s ninth-inning walk-off single in a 2-1 come-from-behind win over the New York Yankees.

Biittner was used primarily in right field and as a pinch-hitter. On August 26 he delivered a game-winning pinch-hit double in his first at-bat following a three-week military stint. Biittner finished his rookie campaign with 44 hits in 171 at-bats (.257, with an eye-popping .368 as a pinch-hitter). Only five of the hits were of the extra-base variety. The Splendid Splinter claimed Biittner’s bat evoked memories “of Johnny Mize without Mize’s power.”8 Williams was determined that more heft was forthcoming from the left-handed hitter’s 6-foot-2, 205-pound frame. The following February he personally directed hitting drills with Biittner (among a select few) to develop the untapped power.

In 1972 Biittner arrived at spring training possessing his “best chance of sticking”9 with the Senators. The offseason had witnessed the exodus of a number of veteran players. By midseason a full-fledged youth movement abounded as the team – relocated to Arlington, Texas – suffered through a 100-loss campaign. The departures provided Biittner a starting role (primarily right field) but he began the season with a cold bat: .147 through May 12. A superb gloveman, Biittner was relegated to roles as a reserve fielder and pinch-hitter. In June injuries began decimating the Rangers’ outfield. Biittner was pressed back into service, including a brief but uncomfortable stint in center field. “I don’t mind left or right, but center field was murder,” he admitted. “I really don’t have enough speed for center.”10

At this same time, life was breathed back into Biittner’s bat. From June 4 through August 1 he was the Rangers’ hottest hitter (.363 in 124 at-bats). On June 30 Biittner connected for his first major-league homer. The blast, off Angels pitcher Lloyd Allen, came on the heels of outfielder Ted Ford’s home run, marking the first back-to-back dingers in Texas Rangers history. Williams lamented the fact that Biittner managed just two additional homers afterward and eventually gave up trying to convert the 26-year-old: “He doesn’t have the swing to be a home run hitter. … Contact is his strength. He hits the ball where it’s pitched. To try to change him would be stupid.”11 Though Biittner’s bat cooled again in September, he finished the season tied with shortstop Toby Harrah with a team-leading .259 average. Biittner was the regular at first base after the July 20 trade of veteran Don Mincher. Dubbed the “team’s first baseman of the future,”12 Biittner prepared for the 1973 season alongside Harrah and other fellow Rangers in the Venezuelan League.13

Biittner’s future appeared in doubt after the Rangers during the offseason acquired slugging first baseman Mike Epstein. When Epstein struggled against the wind-thwarted power alleys in Arlington Stadium, he was traded to the Angels in a deal that brought the Rangers first baseman Jim Spencer. Biittner was relegated to a utility role. On May 16, 1973, he delivered a ninth-inning, two-out, game-winning single on a check swing to beat the Kansas City Royals 2-1. But this proved one of Biittner’s few highlights. With infrequent use, he struggled below .200 into June, though a late-season surge lifted his average to a respectable .252 by season’s end. In November Biittner was assigned to the Rangers’ Spokane affiliate. A month later, he was traded to the Montreal Expos for hurler Pat Jarvis and then transferred to Triple-A Memphis.

The driving force behind the trade was Expos general manager Jim Fanning. He correctly assessed that Jarvis’s best days were behind him (Jarvis did not pitch professionally again) and hoped to secure something in return. A fellow Buena Vista alumnus, Fanning had scouted Biittner for the Atlanta Braves in 1968. “[Biittner] is a good Triple-A ballplayer with a better-than-average chance of being a major leaguer,” Fanning announced after the trade. “He’s an established player.”14 The Expos invited Biittner to spring training as a nonroster invitee and – apparently ignorant of Williams’s earlier attempts – tried to convert him into a power hitter.

With Memphis Biittner again demonstrated his minor-league hitting credentials with a .327 average, placing among the International League leaders. Promoted to the Expos in August, Biittner found profit in the all-too-familiar pinch-hitting role: .267 in 15 at-bats. This limited success, combined with the team’s loss of a number of left-handed hitters via offseason trades, made Biittner a valuable commodity in 1975. In May, when injuries and general ineffectiveness limited manager Gene Mauch’s outfield options, Biittner stepped into the lineup. A .382 surge in June made it difficult to dislodge him. Biittner had his most plate appearances in three years and finished the season with a team-leading .315 (including a game-winning 11th-inning triple against the Chicago Cubs on the next-to-last day of the campaign).

In April 1976 Biittner was one of the Expos’ last contract holdouts. The lingering negotiations earned him a $10,000 raise. But a concerted youth movement under new manager Karl Kuehl provided greater opportunities for rookie and sophomore prospects (Ellis Valentine, Jerry White, Larry Parrish, and Gary Carter), fewer for the 30-year-old Biittner (though he successfully foiled St. Louis righty John Denny’s no-hit bid with an infield single on April 18). On May 17 the Expos acquired disgruntled 26-year-old slugger Andre Thornton from the Cubs in exchange for Biittner and veteran hurler Steve Renko. Platooned at first base and left field, Biittner found his role reduced to pinch-hitting after injuring his hand on July 26. He finished the year with an unremarkable .237-0-18 line in 224 at-bats.

Even less playing time appeared in the offing in 1977 after the Cubs traded for Los Angeles first baseman Bill Buckner. But a spring-training injury to Buckner limited the former Dodger to just 45 at-bats through June 5, to Biittner’s benefit. He responded with a torrid .379 in the team’s first seven games. In May he placed among the league leaders in hitting – a surge credited to a patient approach at the plate, the result of work with hitting coach Lew Fonseca during the spring. On May 17 Biittner took advantage of a 23-mph wind blowing out of Chicago’s Wrigley Field to have his only career multi-homer game. (It was a 23-6 romp over the Padres in which the Cubs tied a franchise record with seven home runs.) When Buckner returned, the Cubs, a surprising contender, kept Biittner’s hot bat in the lineup by putting him in left field in place of oft-injured Jose Cardenal.

On May 12 the Cubs, during a seven-game road trip from Houston to Montreal, played an exhibition against their Triple-A affiliate in Wichita, Kansas. Called upon to pitch, Biittner responded with three scoreless innings. The fine showing served as a prelude to a far less successful outing in the first game of a July 4 doubleheader in Chicago. With the Cubs trailing the Expos, 11-2, in the eighth, manager Herman Franks tapped Biittner to secure the final four outs. Pinch-hitter Larry Parrish greeted Biittner with a three-run homer, and there were two more dingers in the ninth. Though he struck out three, Biittner’s 40.50 ERA, combined with a $50 fine for throwing over the head of outfielder Del Unser,15 ensured the end of the lefty’s pitching career.

But Biittner continued to contribute with the bat. His game-winning eighth-inning two-run homer against the Houston Astros on July 25 allowed the Cubs to maintain a first-place hold over the hard-charging Philadelphia Phillies in the National League’s Eastern Division. But the team’s slow erosion starting in July turned into a complete collapse as the Cubs lost 28 of their final 39 contests, finishing the season with a disappointing .500 record. Excepting a dip in August, Biittner remained one of the Cubs’ few consistent players. He was among the team leaders in runs scored (74), hits (147), doubles (28), homers (12), RBIs (62), and average (.298). He finished at a .341 clip in his final 91 at-bats, including a four-hit outing against the Phillies on September 26 in which he came within a triple of the cycle.

Free agent-eligible, Biittner made clear his desire to continue playing just 400 miles east of his native Pocahontas, Iowa: “I’m looking forward to finishing my career with the Cubs. … I like it here, and I’ll probably move to Chicago by next year if we get together on any kind of a multiyear contract.”16 Though Biittner re-signed, the Cubs remained active in the offseason. The November 30 free-agent signing of slugging left fielder Dave Kingman put Biittner in a bind aptly captured by The Sporting News columnist Richard Dozer: “[Biittner] will try hard to maintain his ‘just-glad-to-be-here’ attitude in the face of the Kingman deal and the recovery of a gimpy Bill Buckner. These events guaranteed him less time at first base and in left field.”17

Biittner’s reduced role was quickly evident as the “forgotten portswinger”18 got only 47 at-bats in the Cubs’ first 42 games of 1978.19 When the chronically injured Buckner was sidetracked in June, Biittner put together a 15-game hitting streak (the franchise’s longest in two years). After a move to left field when Kingman was sidelined, Biittner was returned to a reserve role the rest of the season, achieving a .257-4-50 batting line in 343 at-bats. In December the Atlanta Braves, in the market for a left-handed-hitting first baseman, approached the Cubs about Biittner but nothing came of this.

Biittner remained in Chicago the next two years, never capturing 300 plate appearances in either season. He teamed with a pair of seldom-used teammates to anoint themselves “The Riders of the Lonesome Pines.” But little use did not translate to a lack of clutch hitting. On August 15, 1979, Biittner, in a rare starting assignment, was a homer shy of the cycle in leading the Cubs to a 6-5 win over the San Francisco Giants. Two days later, his two-run pinch-hit single spurred a come-from-behind win over the San Diego Padres. With reference to Biittner’s 1979 batting average, Richard Dozer offered, “How many clubs have a [guy] who hits .290 but can’t find his way into the lineup half the time?”20

But Biittner earned distinction of a long-remembered sort on September 26, 1979. A solid defensive player, “Buckeye” (as his teammates called him) was playing right field in Wrigley when the New York Mets’ Bruce Boisclair hit a sinker to right. “I caught it, but my glove opened up when it hit the ground, the ball rolled out and my cap covered it up,” Biittner related in a Chicago Sun-Times interview 23 years later. He was unable to find the ball so “Jerry Martin came running over from center field [to help]. He’s laughing into his glove and yelling, ‘It’s under your bleeping cap.’ The Bleacher Bums are shouting, ‘Hat! Hat! Hat!’”21 Biittner recovered in time to throw Boisclair out at third base.

In 1979 the Cubs experienced another late-season collapse. Post-mortem speculation focused on possibly trading Buckner for a needed asset elsewhere and moving Biittner to first base. When the 1980 season began, Biittner’s departure was rumored to make room for prized prospect Karl Pagel. Neither scenario developed as Biittner carved a role as a deluxe pinch-hitter for the last-place Cubs. On October 5, 1980 – the last day of the club’s miserable season – Biittner stroked an eighth-inning pinch-hit single off Pittsburgh Pirates righty Don Robinson. It was his 46th pinch-hit as a Cub, tying a franchise record.22

For the third time in four years, Biittner entered the offseason as a free agent.23 He had moved to Chicago three years earlier and was extremely popular among both fans and the press. He hoped to stay. But when the Cubs were slow in offering Biittner an extension – “I felt it was a slap in the face,” he said24– he was selected in the free-agent draft by three teams. On January 12, 1981, Biittner became the first player signed by the Cincinnati Reds since the advent of free agency five years earlier. Reds general manager Dick Wagner commented, “I’ve always said that if I had to fight my way out of a brawl, I’d pick Larry. He has that kind of intensity.”25

Biittner saw very limited play in the strike-shortened 1981 campaign. The next season the reserve player was the only .300 hitter for a Cincinnati team that was a shadow of its former Big Red Machine success. Biittner was released by the Reds on December 6, 1982, and signed with his first franchise three weeks later. Hopeful of receiving more play as the Rangers’ designated hitter, he was primarily assigned to the all-too-familiar role as deluxe pinch-hitter. On August 8, 1983, Biittner lined a run scoring pinch-hit double to left field in Boston’s Fenway Park to help lead the Rangers to a 12-7 win over the Red Sox. The hit – his 96th (and last) pinch-hit – placed Biittner 12th all-time for career pinch-hits. On September 29, 1983, Biittner made his last major-league appearance – appropriately as a pinch-hitter – in Minnesota. He was released a month later and retired. Biittner’s departure left just two active players who had once worn a Washington Senators uniform: Jeff Burroughs and Toby Harrah (retired in 1985 and 1986 respectively).

Biittner returned to Chicago, where he worked as a commodity trader on the floor of the Mercantile Exchange and dabbled in real estate. In 1990 he moved to Pocahontas, where he farmed with an ex-brother-in-law. Twenty-two years earlier, Biittner had married Rolfe, Iowa, native Ann Janette Cleal shortly before his selection in the 1968 amateur draft. They met in the summer after his college sophomore year when she was a senior in high school. The union lasted 21 years and produced two sons – Thomas and Robert – before their 1989 divorce.

Biittner demonstrated both a keen sense of humor and a generous approach to fans throughout his career. In 1979, while teamed with veteran righty Ken Holtzman during the hurler’s second stint with the Cubs, Biittner joked, “Holtzman has thrilled three generations of Cub fans. He helped plant the [outfield] ivy.”26 In September of that year Biittner accompanied a handful of teammates to a children’s baseball clinic. In retirement he was often tapped by former teammates to participate in golf tournaments benefiting the Baseball Alumni Association and other charitable organizations. For many winters he participated as a coach at the Arizona-based Randy Hundley Fantasy Baseball Camps. Biittner was also an avid hunter and (more so) fisherman.

In 1970, when Biittner launched his major-league career, he admitted, “Being a big-league player has been my dream ever since I was a little bit of a kid.”27 This childhood dream was fulfilled with a .273-29-354 line in 3,151 at-bats over 14 seasons. During this time he played for some of the most famous managers of the period: Ted Williams, Whitey Herzog, Billy Martin, and Gene Mauch. Taskmasters all, they came to appreciate Biittner as the consummate team player, a label evidenced by the Iowa native’s quotes early in his career: “I more or less try for average, rather than go for the long ball. … The home runs will come if you make contact. I like RBIs. They’re the most important thing for the good of the team.”28

Bittner died of cancer on January 2, 2022, in his hometown in Iowa. He was 75 years old.

This article was published in “The Team That Couldn’t Hit: The 1972 Texas Rangers” (SABR, 2019), edited by Steve West and Bill Nowlin.

 Last revised: February 25, 2023 (zp)

Sources

The author thanks Larry Biittner for personal input provided in phone interviews on August 18 and September 4, 2015. Thanks also to Rod Nelson, chair of the SABR Scouts Committee, and Karl Green, chair of the Collegiate Research Committee, for their valuable input.

Websites

Baseball-reference.com.

Ancestry.com.

chronicletimes.com/story/1457659.html.

sites.google.com/site/iahsaasports/iowa-high-schools/defunct-high-schools/pocahontas-catholic/pocahontas-catholic-boys-basketball.

iahsaa.org/basketball/Archives/bb_hall_of_fame.pdf.

dbq.edu/media/athletics/pdfs/BS2013.pdf.

bleedcubbieblue.com/2008/1/28/92951/1830.

cubsfantasycamp.com/cubs-coaches/.

Notes

1 “ ‘Nobody’s Caddy!’ Says Cubs’ Biittner,” The Sporting News, September 8, 1979: 35.

2 “Reuschel, Biittner Deliver Big for Slipping Cubs,” The Sporting News, August 13, 1977: 10.

3 Robert Elliott Flickinger, The Pioneer History of Pocahontas County, Iowa (Fonda. Iowa: G. Sanborn, 1904), 143.

4 Biittner was inducted into the Buena Vista Athletic Hall of Fame.

5 During this period Biittner appears to have played with the semipro Halstead (Kansas) Cowboys as well.

6 scouts.baseballhall.org/report?reportid=02691&playerid=biittla01.

7 “Biittner Keeps Both His Eyes on Ball,” The Sporting News, August 29, 1970: 40.

8 “Biittner – Hard to Spell, Tough at Plate,” The Sporting News, June 19, 1971: 20.

9 “Infield Still Rangers’ Danger Spot,” The Sporting News, March 25, 1972: 40.

10 “Husky Biittner Wisely Shuns Mania for HRs,” The Sporting News, July 29, 1972: 24.

11 Ibid.

12 “Critics Fault Ranger ‘Suicide’ Youth Drive,” The Sporting News, August 5, 1972: 21.

13 Biittner took the mound as a reliever in two hopeless games for the Zulia Eagles. He went unscored upon in three innings. This was not his first professional appearance on the hill; he made made at least one similarly hopeless appearance in the Instructional League.

14 “Did Expos’ G.M. Jim Fan on Jarvis?” The Sporting News, January 12, 1974: 39.

15 The ensuing rhubarb resulted in the ejection of Franks and player-coach Randy Hundley.

16 “Cubs Expect to Sign Six-Year Vets,” The Sporting News, October 15, 1977: 10.

17 “Helping Cubs on New Year Resolutions,” The Sporting News, January 14, 1978: 54.

18 “Cubs Enjoy Lefty Luxury With Gross in Groove,” The Sporting News, June 10, 1978: 17.

19 One such at-bat included a walk-off home run in the Cubs’ home opener on April 14.

20 “If Cubs Fail to Deal, It’ll Be Long Season,” The Sporting News, March 8, 1980: 24.

21 Josh Wilker, “Larry Biittner in … The Nagging Question,” Cardboard Gods. (,cardboardgods.net/2007/05/11/larry-biittner-in-the-nagging-question/ ).

22 The record was broken by Dwight Smith in 1993.

23 In at least one stage of his career, Biittner was represented by partners Jim Bronner and Bob Gilhooley; from 1966 to 1970 Gilhooley played in the minor leagues.

24 “Big Cub Broom Set to Sweep,” The Sporting News, December 6, 1980: 59.

25 “National League Flashes,” The Sporting News, June 20, 1981: 20.

26 “Mick, a Mighty Oak Is He, Riding Cub Lonesome Pines,” The Sporting News, May 19, 1979: 19.

27 “Biittner Keeps Both His Eyes on Ball.”

28 Ibid.

Richard Arlin Billings

The oldest of six children, Billings was recruited to play at Michigan State while playing “federation ball” in the Detroit area, teaming with fellow future major leaguers Willie Horton, Alex Johnson, and Bill Freehan.2 His father, a factory worker in downtown Detroit, had moved the family to the Troy, Michigan, area several years before to get away from the big city, and Billings would often hitchhike along the approximately 25-mile trek to Detroit for games. When he received a ride home from Willie Horton and a coach after one game, Horton was astounded at the rural nature of the Troy area and deemed Billings’ new nickname to be “cow man,” a nickname Billings would carry throughout his time in that league and which Horton continued to use to refer to him even after both players had retired from the major leagues.3

Playing third base and outfield, Billings went on to earn accolades at Michigan State as Second Team All-Big Ten in 1964 and Third Team All-Big Ten in 1965.4 On June 8, 1965, the Washington Senators selected Billings in the 25th round of the free-agent draft.5 Two weeks later, Billings signed with the Senators and was assigned to Geneva in the Class-A New York-Penn League.6 There he began his steady march toward the big leagues.

After a solid if unspectacular season in Geneva, in 1966 Billings put together an outstanding campaign for the Class-A Burlington Senators in which he batted .312, slugged 14 home runs, and was named to the all-Carolina League team.7 Although unknown at the time, Billings developed one of his first ties to the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex during those first two minor-league seasons. In both Geneva and Burlington, Billings was managed by Wayne Terwilliger, who 40 years later would make history while managing the independent league Fort Worth Cats as being one of only two 80-year old managers in professional baseball history, joining Connie Mack.8 Terwilliger would also coach Billings as a member of Ted Williams’s coaching staffs with the Senators and Rangers from 1969 to 1972.9

Invited to big-league spring training the following season, Billings opened eyes with his bat, with The Sporting News reporting, “There are six outfielders and the guessing is that rookie Dick Billings will be sent down for further seasoning. Billings has impressed with his hitting this spring, but he still needs seasoning.”10 Seasoning he received after being reassigned on March 29, playing primarily as an outfielder for the York White Roses during the regular season and being assigned to the Florida Instructional League that fall.11

Billings received another invitation to big-league spring training as an outfielder in 1968.12 Once again, however, Billings was reassigned to the minor leagues late in camp.13 Playing for Buffalo in the International League, Billings spent the better part of the season providing consistent offensive production, hitting .276 with 11 home runs, and proving why his bat belonged in Washington.14 On September 1 the Senators finally agreed and called Billings up to the big club.15 Over the last month of the season Billings got into 12 games at third base and in the outfield, and connected on his first major-league home run on September 22 against the Tigers.16 While his .182 batting line over a small sample size wasn’t much to look at, Billings’ presence generated optimism for his future in Washington, and The Sporting News commented that he and Brant Alyea “were exciting in the Senators’ last home stand.”17

After his first taste of the big leagues, Billings was originally ticketed for his second straight winter in the Florida Instructional League – this time to work out as a catcher.18 However, when an injury opened up a roster spot on the Arecibo club in the Puerto Rican Winter League, Billings went there instead and proceeded to homer and knock in two runs in his very first game on the island.19

Change was afoot in the Senators dugout heading into the 1969 season, as the club signed legendary hitter Ted Williams to a five-year contract as the Senators’ vice president and manager.20 The team responded meekly in the Splendid Splinter’s managerial debut in spring training, managing only a single hit – a two-out ninth-inning single by Billings.21 Williams, for his part, was not upset at the lack of offensive firepower, stating that he was “thankful for the one hit.”22

Billings would recall a time later in his career, though, for a period lasting approximately three days, when he was not held with such high regard by his new manager.

Coming into the league I had a tough time with sliders … and I started just trying to focus to hit the ball up the middle and to right field. And we were in Baltimore the first month of the season, I was batting fourth behind Frank Howard and I was hitting well over .300, and the night before I got three hits off of Jim Palmer … and I come out of the dugout and go up to the batting rack where the lineup is and Ted’s over in the corner next to the batting rack holding court with the reporters. And I don’t even know what they’re talking about but I get my helmet and I walk by and he has a bat in his hand, and he kinda pokes me and he says: “Here’s a great example. He should hit 20 home runs a year and what’s he do? He tries to look for the slider and hit it to right field. What kinda hitting is that?” Then he says, “Dick, I bet you didn’t even read my book, did you?”

And I don’t know why I said this or why it even came to my mind, but I was just trying to make a point. I wasn’t trying to embarrass him or anything else. … I said, “Well as a matter of fact, Ted, I did read your book, but if I read a medical book that wouldn’t make me a surgeon.” And everybody started laughing. And I could just see the veins in his neck start popping, it really, really ticked him off. I thought “uh-oh” and just got my helmet and went to the batting cage. And you know I didn’t think that much about it. But my point was, “Yeah, Ted, I’m not like you. I can’t do things that you did, most of us can’t.” I wasn’t trying to make fun of him or anything else.

So when the batting practice is over … I was in the training room getting my arm rubbed down with the hot stuff on it and Tom Grieve, my roommate, came up and said, “Before you put the hot stuff on your arm you better go check the lineup card.” So I threw my jersey on and walked out to the dugout and he had scratched my name out of the lineup and put in Ken Suarez. And as I turned around to go back in the clubhouse he stopped me and pointed his finger in my chest and said, “You blankety-blank-blank-blank, you go to the bullpen and don’t come back. You’re not even allowed on this bench, you go sit in the bullpen until you change your attitude.”

And he benched me for three straight games. And I had to sit in the bullpen and I was not allowed to be in the dugout I guess because of that comment. And I was batting fourth and hitting over .300. There was absolutely no reason; it wasn’t a platoon or anything else.

Billings did end up making the club out of spring training for the first time in 1969, but got in only 27 games for the Senators.23 During the season, with the Senators sensing that the club was weak at the catching position, Billings received a surprise request to change positions:

Either Wayne Terwilliger or Nellie Fox came up to me after one game and said, “What do you think about going to the minors to learn how to catch?” And I said I’ve never caught a game in my entire life and never had shin guards on other than catching batting practice here, and if you’re going to send me out just tell me, don’t make something up.

Billings was assured that it was not a gimmick and that the club saw a real future for him as a catcher.24 And he agreed that he “couldn’t field well enough to play third and didn’t hit with enough power to play the outfield.” So at the age of 26 and fighting for a consistent big-league role, Billings, responded, “Well, if you’re going to send me to the minors anyway, then, yeah, I’ll go give it a whirl.”

On June 23, 1969, the Senators thus shipped Billings to Savannah.25 The transition to catcher was not without its hiccups, however. “The night that I got in, they started me in a Double-A game and I had never caught a game in my life.” Upon returning to the dugout one inning Billings noticed that that many in the dugout were laughing at him. Thinking it was just because he was getting beat up trying to catch pitcher Jack Jenkins, who “I swear threw 98 or better but just could not hit the side of a barn door,” he was advised that he had actually been catching with his shin guards on backward. “That’s how much I knew about catching, I didn’t even know how to put the shin guards on,” he would later say.

As the Southern League season wound down, Billings was involved in one game that would foreshadow a much more momentous occasion four years later. On July 26 he strode to the plate with two outs in the final inning as the only batter standing in the way of Montgomery ace John Gregory’s no-hitter.26 Billings put a scare into the entire ballpark as the ball left his bat and traveled to the farthest reaches of center field, but ultimately the ball (and the no-hitter) was hauled in with a leaping catch near the fence.27 The next no-hitter Billings would be involved in would be much more enjoyable. He diligent efforts to learn the catcher position were rewarded as he received a September callup to Washington.28

Assigned to Denver to open the 1970 season, Billings and the rest of the Bears endured a dismal seven-game losing streak to begin the year.29 Billings chipped in with a double in the seventh and a game-winning triple in the ninth to help defeat Oklahoma City in Denver’s home opener, however.30 Billings’ toughness and desire to stay in the lineup was perhaps never more evident than in a late July game against Oklahoma City when, despite battling an ulcer and a virus/infection, he attempted to catch the second game of a doubleheader.31 When his body finally gave in, Billings collapsed behind the plate and was forced to stay out of the lineup for a short time to recuperate.32 Brushing off the brief health scare, he continued his season-long quest to frighten the pitchers of the American Association, pushing his average to .312 to go along with 10 home runs by late July.33 On September 8 he was again recalled to Washington, though he played in only 11 games before the season came to a close.34

After bouncing between the minor leagues and short stints in Washington for several years, Billings was primed to take on a larger role in 1971 and made the Senators out of spring training as a catcher, wearing number 8.35 He received consistent playing time for the first time in his career, and slugged his first home run on July 2, a three-run shot that pushed the Senators to a 6-3 win in Cleveland.36 He followed that up on July 5 with another home run, this time a grand slam, in a 15-6 trouncing of the Indians that gave the Senators a six-game winning streak.37 Despite the recent streak, however, the team still sat well back in the standings and was 15 games below .500 at 32-47.38 Around the same time, and after battling through roughly the first half of the season with Paul Casanova for the starting catching position, Billings was awarded the starting job by manager Ted Williams.39 For the season, Billings ended up putting together a .246 average in 116 games played, totaling 6 home runs and 48 runs batted in.40

While Billings’ big-league career was just beginning, the 1971 season in Washington will forever be known for what was ending. On September 21, approximately a week and a half before the end of the regular season, the American League owners officially approved owner Bob Short’s plan to move the Senators to the Dallas-Fort Worth market after the season.41 So it was a bittersweet day for many of the 14,460 fans in attendance on September 30 when the Yankees came to town for the Senators’ final home game.42

Billings was penciled in at catcher and batting cleanup for the finale, and proceeded to have an outstanding game, going 3-for-4 with singles in the fourth, sixth, and seventh innings and throwing out a would-be basestealer in the third.43 Although the Senators led the game 7-5 heading to the ninth inning, the “We want Short!” chants arose in the crowd and fans began streaming onto the field in the middle of play.44

They came out on the field and we just kinda, we were just mesmerized; I’d never seen anything like that before. Fans were picking up dirt in their hands and putting it in popcorn boxes and in their hat. I think one or two of them tried to steal the bases, I can’t remember if they ever pulled the bases out or not. But they could just never get the crowd under control at all, they just kinda stood out on the field and milled around. We all went in the clubhouse just to wait and see what happened, and I don’t know if I ever even came back out.

Unable to control the crowd, the umpiring crew “had no alternative but to award the game to New York on a forfeit. An apparent 7-5 Senators win became a 9-0 loss.45

After the season, Billings went to Venezuela to play winter ball and gain additional catching experience.46 Midway through the season, he was approached to gauge his interest in managing the team if it was to part ways with manager Larry Doby.47 Billings indicated he would be willing to take on the role, in which he was officially installed when Doby was let go.48 The club supported Billings’ ideas to improve the club, including releasing certain players who weren’t all that thrilled to be playing winter ball in Venezuela, and bringing in new players who were.49 The Zulia team responded and stormed to its first playoff appearance in team history, with Billings finishing as one of the top 10 leading hitters in the league.50 When the team arrived at the airport in Maracaibo after clinching the playoff berth, thousands of people lined the runway to great the team and a number of fans actually carried the players from the plane.51 Billings would return to Venezuela as a player-manager during subsequent winter-league seasons as well: “We were successful and they just had me back, basically whenever I wanted to.”

As the calendar turned to 1972, the Senators’ move to Texas was quite a transition for the team’s players, both in geography and in accommodations. After playing in the spacious RFK stadium, Billings and others wondered how the club could possibly play at what “was basically a Class A or Double-A ballpark.”52 In addition, the players had to procure new living accommodations; although a brief trip to Texas with Denny McLain prior to the season proved to be more than sufficient for Billings in that regard:

McLain is quite a magician and quite a marketing guy, I mean by the time we left there he had a radio/TV show lined up, he had a car dealer that had given us the use of cars, he had an apartment that was giving us free rent over in Dallas. … From that standpoint I was really excited just because of the way people welcomed us there.

The club faced two additional other hurdles before season’s start. First, star Frank Howard held out before agreeing to a new contract for 1972 – it was a good thing the holdout ended, according to Billings: “They need Hondo. They don’t have anyone but him and Ted as drawing cards. Who’s gonna pack the park to see me and a bunch of guys named Joe until we prove ourselves.”53 Second, a league-wide player strike delayed the start of the season.54 Billings, along with several other players, stayed in town and tried to stay in shape for the season during the strike.55

After the strike was resolved and after beginning the season on the road, the Rangers held the franchise’s home opener with Billings behind the plate and Dick Bosman on the mound – the same battery that was in place for the final Senators game in Washington the year before.56 The most memorable aspect of the game for Billings occurred before the first pitch was thrown, when the players were lined up on the first-base line and given cowboy hats and boots.57

After a rough start to the season playing on only a platoon basis, Billings was finally given the full-time starting catcher position, his bat took off, and he posted an eight-game hitting streak in early June.58 In fact, The Sporting News noted that “during the month of June, the Rangers could trace much of their modest but increasing successes to scrappy Rich Billings.”59 And it wasn’t just his bat getting attention, with manager Ted Williams commenting, “He’s been the most dependable man we have – and not only with the bat. He blocks the plate with the best and his arm is far more accurate.”60 Billings finished the season as the team’s leading RBI man with 58. “I led the team in RBIs, so that tells you how bad we were,” he would later say.61 The 1972 Texas Rangers finished with a record of 54-100; good for worst in the major leagues.62

Leading into the 1973 season, new manager Whitey Herzog was quoted as saying, “If Rich Billings is the starting catcher again, we’re in deep trouble.”63 The oft-quoted response from Billings was that “Whitey, obviously, has seen me play.”64 But Billings also took issue with criticism of his defense at catcher and pre-emptive judgment of his role on the team as a backup: “All I want is an opportunity to prove myself. … I think that the catching job should be mine until I prove that I can’t handle it,” he said.65 While the quotes above appear to describe an ominous beginning to their relationship, Billings later recounted that there was no ill will between the two then or now: “Whitey Herzog and I became really, really close friends, and I think that we have the highest and did then have the highest respect of each other.”

Herzog’s preseason comments aside, Billings was in the starting lineup at catcher on Opening Night.66 He was sidelined shortly thereafter, however, with a broken thumb suffered on April 27 in a 4-2 win over Milwaukee.67 Billings did return in time to play a hand in perhaps the high-water mark of the season for the Rangers, catching Jim Bibby’s July 30 no-hitter against the A’s, a moment he would later describe as “the twilight of a mediocre career.”68 “He was just plain explosive,” Billings said, adding, “I didn’t think a human being could throw a ball that fast.”69 Bibby was throwing so hard, in fact, that Billings called almost exclusively fastballs in the later innings: “I didn’t see any reasons to have him throw anything else unless he got in trouble and he never got in trouble.”70

Billings also earned praise from none other than Whitey Herzog for his play during the season: “There are only two guys on this team who I feel have gone out every day and given a complete effort, the kind it takes to win. … Those two are Alex Johnson and Rich Billings,” Herzog said.71 Hampered by injuries, though, Billings finished the year with a disappointing .179 average and the Rangers ended up losing 105 games.72

With another new manager, Billy Martin, Billings and the Rangers looked to rebound in 1974. But for Billings the injuries kept piling on, as he suffered an ankle injury on April 27 and was placed on the disabled list.73 He ultimately was sidelined for most of the year with a variety of injuries. “I was hurt all of that season, it was just one thing after the other,” he said.74 In August, Billings was purchased by the Cardinals and was healthy enough to play briefly for Tulsa in the American Association and receive a late season callup to St. Louis.75

Considering retirement after the 1974 season, Billings received an offer from the California Angels to manage their Class-A team in 1975.76 Still feeling the itch to give it “one more shot,” and needing only 20 more days of big-league service time to reach a full five years on the major-league pension plan, Billings spurned the Angels and accepted an offer to return to the Cardinals to be a player-coach in Tulsa with the promise of being called up to the big club for at least the last 30 days of the season.77

Billings did play well enough in Tulsa to be called up sporadically during the season, despite suffering a separated shoulder on a play at the plate early in the season.78 He also had the opportunity to be briefly reunited with former roommate and “magician” Denny McLain, who broadcast Iowa’s minor-league games against Billings’ Tulsa squad.79 The Cardinals also honored their agreement by calling Billings up for the final 30 days of the season: “I had the upmost respect for the Cardinals and their organization,” he later said. He admitted that the injuries had taken their toll on his body, however, and retired after the season. “I just wasn’t the same anymore,” he said.

After retiring, Billings obtained his real-estate license and began working as a broker in Texas.80 He later obtained his real-estate license in Michigan, where as of 2018 he lived with his wife, also a licensed real-estate broker, and continued to work in the real estate industry.81 He also remained an active member of the Texas Rangers Alumni and appeared at several events for the team each year.

This article was published in “The Team That Couldn’t Hit: The 1972 Texas Rangers” (SABR, 2019), edited by Steve West and Bill Nowlin.

Sources

In addition to the sources noted in the Notes, the author also accessed Billings’ player file on Retrosheet.org and Baseball-Reference.com.

Notes

1 Interview with Rich Billings, March 4, 2018. Unless otherwise attributed, all quotations from Billings come from this interview.

2 Ibid.

3 Ibid.

4 msuspartans.com/sports/m-basebl/archive/msu-m-basebl-allbig10.html.

5 James R. Hartley, Washington’s Expansion Senators (1961-1971) (Germantown, Maryland: Corduroy Press 1997, 1998), 280.

6 Ibid.

7 “Class A Averages,” The Sporting News, September 24, 1966: 34.

8 “A Look at 80-year-old Fort Worth Cats Manager Wayne Terwilliger,” My Plainview, July 3, 2005, myplainview.com/news/article/A-look-at-80-year-old-Fort-Worth-Cats-manager-8693434.php.

9 “Twig at 80: Wayne Terwilliger Doing What Only Connie Mack Did Before Him,” Billings (Montana) Gazette, July 4, 2005, billingsgazette.com/sports/twig-at-wayne-terwilliger-doing-what-only-connie-mack-did/article_74daeee0-5b2a-509f-b3ec-bec64f63622d.html.

10 Bob Addie, “Billings Can Hit, but Needs Experience, The Sporting News, April 8, 1967: 20.

11 Hartley, 276; Bob Addie, “Nats, Astros Will Share Instructional Loop Team,” The Sporting News, October 7, 1967: 40.

12 Bob Addie, “Senators Run on Victory Ticket,” The Sporting News, March 9, 1968: 24.

13 Hartley, 277.

14 “International League Batting, Pitching Records,” The Sporting News, September 28, 1968: 33.

15 Hartley, 278.

16 Hartley, 203, 176, 90; Merrell Whittlesey, “Five Nat Hurlers Started 74 Games, Finished but Two,” The Sporting News, October 12, 1968, 17.

17 Whittlesey, “Five Nat Hurlers.”

18 Ibid.

19 Miguel Frau, “Pickets Loaf in Timmerman Shutout,” The Sporting News, November 9, 1968: 55.

20 Hartley, 93, 279.

21 Merrell Whittlesey, “Ted Tutors Promising Pupil Epstein,” The Sporting News, March 22, 1969: 23.

22 Ibid.

23 Hartley, 207; “American League Rosters, Uniform Numbers,” The Sporting News, April 26, 1969: 36.

24 Interview with Rich Billings, March 4, 2018.

25 Hartley, 280.

26 Max Mosely, “Gregory, Former Ace Reliever, Hurls No-Hit Gem for Rebels, The Sporting News, August 9, 1969: 39.

27 Ibid.

28 Hartley, 281.

29 Bob Hurt, “12-Inning One Hitter,” The Sporting News, May 9, 1970: 35.

30 Ibid.

31 “No. 3 Is No. 1,” The Sporting News, August 8, 1970: 40.

32 Ibid.

33 William J. Weiss, “American Association, Batting and Pitching Records,” The Sporting News, August 1, 1970: 35.

34 Hartley, 283, 207.

35 “American League Rosters, Uniform Numbers, The Sporting News, April 17, 1971: 37.

36 Hartley, 131, 184.

37 Hartley, 131-132.

38 Hartley, 184.

39 “Senators Topple Indians, 7 to 3,” Wilmington Morning Star, August 7, 1971: 17.

40 Hartley, 206-207.

41 Hartley, 285.

42 Hartley, 139.

43 Hartley, 139-145, 195.

44 Hartley, 143.

45 Hartley, 144.

46 Interview with Rich Billings, March 4, 2018.

47 Ibid.

48 Eduardo Moncada, “Billings Latest Venezuelan Playing Pilot,” The Sporting News, December 25, 1971: 47.

49 Interview with Rich Billings, March 4, 2018.

50 Ibid; Eduardo Moncada, “Dick Billings: One Year Makes a Difference in Venezuela,” The Sports News, November 25, 1972: 55.

51 Interview with Rich Billings, March 4, 2018.

52 Ibid.

53 Merle Heryford, “Hondo Cures Short’s Headache, But Gives Williams Another, “The Sporting News, April 15, 1972: 24.

54 Merle Heryford, “Only Fans and Players Missing at Texas’ ‘Bow,’” The Sporting News, April 22, 1972: 20.

55 Ibid.

56 Interview with Rich Billings, March 4, 2018.

57 Ibid.

58 Merle Heryford, “Mincher Can Smile with .174 Bat Mark,” The Sporting News, July 1, 1972: 19.

59 Merle Heryford, “Late Billings Pays Rich Ranger Dividends,” The Sporting News, July 15, 1972: 17.

60 Ibid.

61 Interview with Rich Billings, March 4, 2018.

62 Merle Heryford, “Herzog Must Plug Ranger Infield Holes,” The Sporting News, March 3, 1973: 30.

63 Mike Shropshire, Seasons in Hell (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1996), 20.

64 Ibid.

65 Randy Galloway, “Billings Can’t See Himself as Part-Timer With Rangers,” The Sporting News, March 17, 1973: 48.

66 “A Season in Hell,” D. Magazine, April 1991, dmagazine.com/publications/d-magazine/1991/april/sports-a-season-in-hell/.

67 “Billings Lost to Rangers,” The Sporting News, May 12, 1973: 25.

68 Shropshire, 104-107.

69 “NL Castoff No-Hits World Champions,” Beaver County Times, July 31, 1973: 10, news.google.com/newspapers?id=rOtVAAAAIBAJ&sjid=2EANAAAAIBAJ&pg=790,4102988&dq=rich+billings&hl=en.

70 Ibid.

71 Randy Galloway, “Ranger Attack Consists of Alex’ Bat,” The Sporting News, May 12, 1973: 18.

72 Merle Heryford, “Seven Catchers to Vie for Rangers Job,” The Sporting News, January 12, 1974: 39.

73 Randy Galloway, “The Rangers Are for Real, Brash Billy Warns,” The Sporting News, May 18, 1974: 3.

74 Interview with Rich Billings, March 4, 2018.

75 Neal Russo, “It’s Redbird Moving Time, With Brock Showing Way, The Sporting News, September 21, 1974: 13.

76 Interview with Rich Billings, March 4, 2018.

77 Ibid.

78 Ibid.; John Ferguson, “Iowa Walks Past Speedy Tulsa in A.A. Start,” The Sporting News, May 3, 1975: 30.

79 Pete Swanson, “Pierce Finds New Lease as Triplet Power Hitter,” The Sporting News, May 10, 1975: 32.

80 Interview with Rich Billings, March 4, 2018.

81 Ibid.

He was born Richard Allen Bosman on February 17, 1944, in Kenosha, Wisconsin, the only son and oldest of four children born to George and Nella (Kloet) Bosman. Kenosha is a Lake Michigan town of about 90,000 people that lies between Milwaukee and Chicago. His father was a farmer; his mother stayed home and raised the children. George Bosman later gave up farming and went to work for a trucking firm in Kenosha.

Dick grew up in Kenosha, where his father was a very good fast-pitch softball pitcher. George’s prowess was so well known that a baseball field in Kenosha was named after him and his uncle Clarence, also a pitcher. George – the greatest early baseball influence that Dick had – had a dream that his son would one day be a major-league pitcher and did what he could to help him get there. Several sources list Dick as a cousin of major leaguer Duane Kuiper, a Racine, Wisconsin, native. Bosman said that while a relationship exists, it is no closer than third cousin.

Another early influence on Bosman was his high-school coach, Andy Smith, who also coached Little League. Dick pitched for the Bradford High School Red Devils and started in the 1962 state championship game, losing 2-0 on two unearned runs. One of Bosman’s high-school teammates, Lance Tobert, a pitcher, signed with the Orioles but never pitched in the major leagues.1

Bosman received no scholarship offers from major colleges like the University of Wisconsin, and felt he would have if his high-school grades had been better. He did receive several offers from major-league clubs and opted to sign with Pittsburgh Pirates scout Paul Tretiak. Bosman decided to delay his professional baseball career by a year, however, and attend UW-Parkside, an extension of the University of Wisconsin located in Kenosha. Meanwhile he played for a semipro team in Kenosha in the summer of 1962.

After a year at Parkside, Bosman decided it was time to begin his pro career. He spent the 1963 season pitching Rookie League ball for the Kingsport (Tennessee) Pirates of the Appalachian League. That December, Bosman was chosen by the Giants in the first-year player draft. He reported to spring training with the major-league club in 1964. While he was impressive, he was one of nine pitchers cut in late March, near the end of camp. Bosman was sent to the Class-A Lexington (North Carolina) Giants of the Western Carolinas League.

The 20-year-old Bosman pitched in 35 games for Lexington, including nine starts. His 3.21 ERA apparently caught someone’s attention, as the Washington Senators chose him in the December 1964 minor-league draft.  Bosman spent the 1965 season pitching for York, Pennsylvania, the Senators’ affiliate in the Double-A Eastern League, and after the season he pitched in the Florida Instructional League. During his stint there he combined with Dick Loun to no-hit the Reds’ entry in the league. Based on his time in the Instructional League, Bosman received an invitation to the Senators’ big-league camp in 1966 as a nonroster invitee.

Senators manager Gil Hodges was quite impressed with Bosman in spring training, telling him he had a chance to be a good big-league pitcher. When club GM George Selkirk cut Bosman from the big-league roster in early April, Hodges told him to go back to York, have a good month, and they would bring him back up.

Bosman went to York, pitched well for about six weeks, and then got the call from the Senators. He made his major-league debut as a starter at Fenway Park against the Boston Red Sox on June 1, 1966. His opponent was Jim Lonborg. Bosman went 7⅓ innings, allowing three earned runs on nine hits to pick up a 6-3 win.

Over the next seven weeks Bosman made 12 appearances, including six starts. He compiled a 2-6 record with a 7.78 ERA. Included in those six losses were three saves blown by the bullpen. In late July the Senators sent Bosman back to York and replaced him with York’s Barry Moore. Bosman returned to the Senators in September where he made one appearance out of the bullpen.

Bosman began the 1967 season with the Senators’ Triple-A farm club at Hawaii. He went 12-11 in 26 starts with a 2.76 ERA for the Islanders, who finished the year at 60-87. Manager Wayne Terwilliger in his biography said, “Dick’s fastball topped out at about 85 mph, so he worked hard at fine-tuning his two best pitches, a sinker and a ‘slurve.’ Whoever named that pitch got it just right – it was a combination of a slider that broke too much and a curve that didn’t break enough. Bosman was managing to win despite everything, and it wasn’t long before Washington called.”2 He was promoted in August. In seven starts for the Senators, Bosman went 3-1with a 1.75 ERA. This included a five-hit blanking of the White Sox and Tommy John.

For the 1968 season the Senators replaced Gil Hodges with Jim Lemon. That year also marked the first time Bosman spent an entire season at the major-league level. He made 46 appearances, including 10 starts, going 2-9 but posting a respectable 3.69 ERA. Bosman was one of only two major-league starters that year to make double-digit starts and not throw a complete game.

Before the 1969 season the Senators replaced Lemon as manager with Ted Williams. Under Williams, Bosman flourished. This was a move that probably did as much to turn around his career as any other. Bosman credited Williams with teaching him to pitch from “above the neck.”3 

Bosman began the 1969 season by pitching 2⅓ innings of scoreless relief on Opening Day. He then alternated between the bullpen and rotation until June 18; six starts and five relief appearances. In early May, Williams said, “Dick is starting to see the light.”4 Included in that run was a 5-0 shutout of Cleveland on May 2. On June 22 Williams moved Bosman into a permanent spot in the team’s starting rotation. In 20 starts after that, Bosman went 10-3 with a 2.10 ERA. He won 14 games and lost 5 with a league-leading 2.19 ERA. His wins led the staff as the Senators had their first winning season in franchise history.

In 1970 Bosman, now 26, became the ace of the Senators pitching staff. He upped his win total from 14 to 16 even though the Senators fell from 86 wins in 1969 to 70 wins in 1970. Bosman was the only member of the pitching staff to reach double digits in wins. One highlight was a one-hitter against Minnesota on August 13. César Tovar, a noted spoiler who broke up five no-hitters in the majors, led off the game with a bunt single. Bosman allowed only one walk after that, making the single run he received in the first inning stand up. 

In the offseason the Senators picked up Denny McLain from the Detroit Tigers in an eight-player deal that cost them their second starter, Joe Coleman. McLain, a 31-game winner in 1968, went just 10-22 for Washington in 1971, leading the league in losses as he had led with 24 wins in 1969. Bosman went 12-16 with a 3.73 earned-run average. He led the Senators, who went 63-96, in wins, starts, and innings pitched.

While pitching for the Senators in 1967, Bosman met his future wife, Pam, a Washington native, whom he married in 1969. The couple had two daughters, Michelle and Nadine. They later adopted two others, Elizabeth and Amanda.

Before the 1972 season the Senators left Washington and moved to Arlington, Texas, where they became the Texas Rangers. Bosman made both the last start in Senators history and the first start in Rangers history.

In their inaugural 1972 season, the Rangers finished 54-100, the fifth 100-season loss since the advent of the expansion Senators in 1961. Ted Williams quit as manager after the season. Bosman turned in a respectable 3.63 ERA in his 29 starts, including a 1-0 three-hit shutout of the White Sox in his last start of the season. In four years under Williams, Bosman went 50-43 with a 3.15 ERA and a 2-to-1 strikeout-to-walk ratio.

The Rangers began the 1973 season with Whitey Herzog replacing Williams as manager. Bosman made his fourth consecutive Opening Day start. He began the season by going 2-5. On May 10 the Rangers traded Bosman and outfielder Ted Ford to the Cleveland Indians for pitcher Steve Dunning. Bosman was upset because he had spent his entire major-league career in the same organization. Friendships he developed with teammates in Cleveland eventually changed his feelings about that and he came to enjoy his time in Cleveland. He remained with the Tribe into the 1975 season. There he was joined in the starting rotation by future Hall of Famer Gaylord Perry. Bosman developed a great deal of respect for Perry, saying that Gaylord had some of the best stuff he ever saw a pitcher display.5

On July 19, 1974, Bosman pitched a no-hitter against the Oakland A’s, winners of the 1973 World Series. It took just 79 pitches to complete the gem, and he faced just 28 batters. The only Oakland batter to reach base was Sal Bando; Bosman fielded his swinging bunt down the third-base line but his throw pulled the first baseman off the bag and Bosman was charged with an error.

In 1975 A’s owner Charles Finley sent pitcher Blue Moon Odom to Cleveland for Bosman and fellow pitcher Jim Perry. Over the next two seasons Bosman went 15-6 in 49 games with a 3.80 ERA for the A’s. He made a brief appearance in the 1975 playoffs for the A’s.

Bosman was released by the Athletics at the end of spring training in 1977. Since his release came on March 29, it was too close to the start of the season for him to catch on with another major-league team. This left Bosman with the option of signing a minor-league contract or retiring. Despite being just 33 years old, he opted to retire.

Bosman moved to Northern Virginia, where he took a job with Johnny Koons, who owned several car dealerships. Koons had a son in Little League, so he asked Bosman to help out with coaching. This began Bosman’s nine-year association with the Little League of Northern Virginia. He also took a job for three or four years as a coach for Georgetown University. During this period Bosman developed an interest in coaching at the professional level.

In 1986 Bosman was named the pitching coach for the White Sox’ Triple-A affiliate in Buffalo. In June 1986, White Sox GM Hawk Harrelson fired manager Tony La Russa and pitching coach Dave Duncan. He replaced them with Jim Fregosi as manager and Bosman as pitching coach. Bosman served in this role through the 1987 season.

Before the 1988 season Bosman was approached by Orioles farm director Doug Melvin about working as a minor-league pitching instructor. He accepted and served the Orioles in that capacity from 1988 to 1991. In 1992 Johnny Oates, the Orioles’ new manager, brought Bosman aboard as the team’s pitching coach. Bosman served in this role for three seasons, and in 1995, when Oates left Baltimore to become the Rangers manager, Bosman went along. He served as the Rangers’ pitching coach through the 2000 season. During his tenure there, the Rangers won three division championships (1996, 1998, and 1999).

Before the 2001 season Bosman accepted a position with the Tampa Bay Rays as minor-league pitching coordinator, and held the position through the end of the 2011 season. Bosman said he was very proud that the Rays’ major-league pitching staff was entirely homegrown, as he had directed the minor-league pitching for the past decade.

This article was published in “The Team That Couldn’t Hit: The 1972 Texas Rangers” (SABR, 2019), edited by Steve West and Bill Nowlin.

Sources

In addition to the sources cited in the Notes, the author also consulted Baseball-Reference.com, Retrosheet.org, various other issues of The Sporting News, and the Wisconsin State Journal (Madison, Wisconsin), June 3, 1962.

Thanks to Dick Bosman for granting the 2011 interview.

Notes

1 James Enright, “Ironman Orioles Prospect Hurls Twin-Bill Triumph for AF Team,” The Sporting News, October 12, 1968: 16.

2 Wayne Terwilliger with Nancy Peterson and Peter Boehm, Terwilliger Bunts One (Helena, Montana: Globe Pequot Press, 2006), 157.

3 Author interview with Dick Bosman on August 25, 2011.

4 Merrell Whittlesey, “Higgins Gets Big Hand as Tight-Fisted Nat Fireman,” The Sporting News, May 17, 1969: 12

5 Author interview with Dick Bosman.

Peter Sven Broberg was born on March 2, 1950, in West Palm Beach, Florida, to Gustave T. Broberg Jr. and Mary Stewart (Colwell) Broberg. The elder Broberg, whose parents emigrated from Sweden, was an attorney and municipal judge in the seaside town. An All-American basketball player at Dartmouth College and three-time Ivy League scoring champion (1939-1941), Gus Broberg was also accomplished outfielder. He turned down an offer from the New York Yankees to join their farm system in order to enlist in the Marines during World War II. As a pilot he lost his right arm in a crash in Okinawa, but he never lost his love for baseball. “My father, overtly or subliminally pushed me into baseball, and I stayed with it,” Broberg the younger told the author. “We’d throw the ball to each other. He’d catch it with his left hand, sling off his glove and throw the ball back to me. He could bat one-handed, and hit popups to me.”

By the time Broberg was about 14 years old, he began to recognize his baseball talents. “Tom Howser – Dick’s brother – was my coach in Babe Ruth ball. He was a big influence and showed me how to pitch,” said Broberg. Over the course of the next four years, Broberg established his reputation as a flamethrowing sensation pitching for West Palm Beach High School and American Legion Post 12. He regularly racked up double-digit strikeout totals, and once whiffed 23 while hurling nine perfect innings, but getting a no-decision.2 Big-league scouts were commonplace in the fertile grounds of South Florida, but Broberg did not remember talking to any as a prep phenom, though he knew they were on his trail. Just weeks after graduating from high school, Broberg was selected by the Oakland A’s with the second overall pick in the amateur draft, on June 7, 1968. “I was playing in the American Legion state tournament,” he recalled. “There was a pretty good crowd and I threw a perfect game with all of the scouts there. That was probably one of the reasons they drafted me out of high school.”

After several weeks of negotiations with A’s owner Charles O. Finley, Broberg made national headlines when he turned down a reported signing bonus of $175,000 and enrolled at Dartmouth. “I don’t remember being pushed one way or the other to sign or go to college,” Broberg explained. “It was my own decision.”

Broberg fell under the tutelage of Tony Lupien, longtime head baseball coach at Dartmouth. “He played with the Red Sox [in the early 1940s],” said Broberg. “I felt that he knew the ropes to the big leagues, and that’s why I always asked him questions. He was a tough old timer.” As a sophomore Broberg led the school to its first-ever College World Series. He struck out 11 against Florida State, but the Big Green committed six errors and lost, 6-0, in the second round.3 Broberg gained additional experience as a member of the Fairbanks Goldpanners and played against many of the top prospects in the country in the Alaska Summer League in 1969 and 1970. “[The league] was touted as being better than the Cape Cod League,” said the pitcher. “I agreed [to play] if I could bring a friend. I brought Charlie Janes, another pitcher for Dartmouth. We were the first players east of the Mississippi to play there.” United Press International reported that Broberg had the “attention of every major-league scout in the business” by the end of his junior year.4 “[He’s] the fastest pitcher I’ve seen since Bob Feller,” said Lupien of his prized right-hander, who fanned 127 in 82 innings (including 20 in a game against Boston College) and finished with a 1.42 ERA in 1971.5

The Washington Senators selected Broberg with the first overall pick of the secondary phase of the 1971 amateur draft (for players who had already been drafted and refused to sign). “I was honored to be chosen,” said Broberg, who clarified his behind-the-scenes pre-draft negotiations with both Washington and the Boston Red Sox. “[Boston] wanted me to turn down [Washington owner] Bob Short and fall to them. That was very tempting and in hindsight perhaps I should have done that. But Washington was going to send me to the big leagues and the Red Sox were going to send me to [Triple-A] Pawtucket. The choice was easy.”

“The countdown has started,” wrote the Associated Press, speculating on when and if the Senators could sign Broberg, who once again was in the national spotlight.6 But there was never any doubt in Broberg’s mind where he would be. Twelve days after the lowly Senators drafted him, the flamethrowing right-hander made his major-league debut on June 20 in front of just under 20,000 spectators at Robert F. Kennedy Stadium in Washington. Broberg put on a “formidable exhibition,” mused the AP, holding Boston to just two runs (both earned) in 6⅓ strong innings but got a no-decision in Washington’s eventual 4-3 defeat.7 “I wasn’t nervous,” reminisced Broberg, who threw 97 pitches.8 “I was leading the game when they took me out. I called my dad and told him I had seven strikeouts, but man, I gave up three hits.”

After losses in his next two starts, Broberg went on a roll, winning five of his next eight starts. During that impressive stretch of 59⅔ innings, he sported a nifty 1.81 ERA, held opponents to a .208 batting average, and completed four games, including a five-hit shutout against Cleveland. Broberg drew rave reviews: “That kid has a tremendous fastball and has tremendous poise for his lack of experience,” said Jim Lonborg, former Cy Young Award winner with Boston.9 Jim Spencer of the California Angels claimed, “He throws harder than Vida Blue.”10 Even manager Ted Williams, notoriously hard on his own pitchers, chimed in: “I’ve never seen a more impressive youngster come into the league.”11 But Broberg had little room for error on a team that averaged just 3.38 runs per game . He lost his final six decisions (Washington tallied just 12 runs) to finish with a 5-9 record and 3.47 ERA in 124⅔ innings while the Senators limped to a 63-96 record, good for fifth in the six-team AL East.

Like most pitchers who played for Ted Williams, Broberg’s relationship with his manager was curt and to the point. “We didn’t talk much,” admitted Broberg. “Williams said a few nice things about me to the papers after my first few starts, but not to me.” He added that Williams showed little concern and sometimes outright contempt for pitchers. Broberg recounted the time he first met Williams in the Senators’ clubhouse. “I was told that Williams would ask me if I know what makes a curveball curve.” Not one to play the deferential rookie pitcher to the living legend, Broberg promptly told William the answer. “Williams walked off in a harrumph after that,” chuckled Broberg. “I don’t think he liked it.”

Broberg responded resolutely when asked if he felt pressure about jumping from college to the big leagues in 1971: “That’s where I felt I should be in my natural progress. It was a comfortable state and I felt at home. I really don’t think that starting in the minor leagues would have helped my career. I think some more understanding and benevolent coaches could have done a better job for me.” Looking back on his big-league career, Broberg praised Sid Hudson, his pitching coach with Washington/Texas in 1971-72, as the exception to the rule.

Described by sportswriter Red Smith as “large, long haired, good looking, blond, personable, and rich,” the 6-foot-3, 205-pound Broberg commanded the mound.12 Often sporting fashionable sideburns, he relied on a three-quarters to overhand fastball to overpower hitters; he occasionally dropped to a side-arm delivery to right-handed hitters. He also threw a 12-to-6 overhand curve and a hard slider. “The pitch I wish I had learned was the circle change,” Broberg confessed, referring to pitcher John Smoltz, who mentioned in his Hall of Fame induction speech in 2015 that the pitch was the difference maker in his career. “I think that is one of the greatest pitches ever invented,” said Broberg, and added, “I never learned a good changeup.” Broberg also looked back in awe of Bruce Sutter’s split-finger fastball. When the two were teammates in 1977 with the Chicago Cubs, Broberg tried in vain to learn the pitch from coach Fred Martin, who taught it to Sutter.

The cash-strapped Washington Senators’ 11-year tenure in the nation’s capital came to a conclusion on September 21, 1971, when American League owners voted 10-2 to allow Bob Short to relocate the team to Arlington, Texas. “I don’t think I even knew about the move until the last few games of the season when it was announced,” said Broberg. “It wasn’t a distraction for me.”

Rechristened the Texas Rangers, in honor of the state’s famous law enforcers and to establish an identity as Texas’s baseball team, the club played its games in Arlington Stadium. “The stadium was like an Erector Set,” joked Broberg about the former Turnpike Stadium where the Double-A Dallas-Fort Worth Spurs had played beginning in 1965. “It was just a minor-league stadium with more seats in the outfield and a big scoreboard. But I liked pitching there.”

Broberg got off to a hot start in 1972. After the Rangers’ tough-luck, 1-0 loss to the California Angels in the season opener, Broberg collected the first win in the history of the relocated franchise by limiting the Angels to just five hits over eight innings in a 5-1 victory at Anaheim Stadium. In his next start, he tossed the first shutout in Rangers’ and Arlington Stadium’s history. Praised by the AP for his “crackling fastball and a whipping curve,” Broberg blanked the Angels on four hits. “He’s getting confidence and he’s going more to the slider and curve,” said Ted Williams. “You can see him getting better and better.”13 While the Rangers proved that their early-season success by sliding to the AL West basement, Broberg improved his record to 5-4 and lowered his ERA to 2.66 on June 13 with arguably the best game of his career, a three-hit shutout of Milwaukee in Arlington. The victory was even more impressive considering that Broberg had just returned to the team after graduating from Dartmouth two days earlier. And then the roof caved in.

Broberg’s degree in economics could not help the Rangers’ hitting, which was dismal even by the depressed offensive output of the era. The club batted just .217, the second lowest average in the AL in the Live Ball era, and scored an average of 2.99 runs per game. After Broberg’s three-hitter, the Rangers lost 70 of their next 102 games. Broberg lost his next eight decisions, and finally his spot in the rotation. Pitching out of the bullpen and primarily in mop-up situations in the last two months of the season, he concluded a once promising campaign with a 5-12 record and a 4.29 ERA in a team-high 176⅓ innings; he started 25 of a career-high 39 games. Though he ranked eighth in strikeouts per nine innings (6.8) and whiffed a career-high 11 over 7⅓ innings in a no-decision against Chicago on June 24, he also battled control problems in 1972, ranking third in walks issued per nine innings. 

In the offseason, Broberg played for Aguilas del Zuila in the Venezuelan Winter League. “Rich Billings, the Rangers catcher, was the manager for Aguilas and asked me to come down and play. That’s how it started,” said Broberg who posted a 6-3 record and 1.73 ERA in 96⅓ innings. “I played for Leonas del Caracas (1974-1975) and Tigres de Aragua (1976-1977). They were good experiences, though Caracas was a little nerve-racking at times.”

“People have a tendency to black out memories they don’t want to remember,” Broberg responded when asked about his second season with the Rangers. The 1973 club finished last in scoring and last in team ERA, a toxic mix that produced a franchise worst 57-105 record. New manager Whitey Herzog, a brash 41-year-old, vowed to mold the team with old-school discipline, but his approach alienated players, including Broberg. “Herzog and I did not get along,” said the pitcher bluntly. Broberg got off to a rough start, losing his first four decisions, before tossing a complete game to defeat Cleveland, 3-2, on May 30 his first victory in almost a year. Broberg seemed to get on track in June, winning three straight starts; however, he felt he never gained Herzog’s confidence. After a nightmarish relief outing on July 4, Broberg was unceremoniously optioned to Spokane in the Pacific Coast League. By the time he was recalled in September, Herzog had been fired and another firebrand, Billy Martin, had been hired. Known for giving his pitchers a long leash, Martin reinserted Broberg into the rotation. Broberg concluded the campaign by tossing a nifty seven-hit shutout against Kansas City for a 5-9 record and 5.61 ERA in 118⅔ innings.

In his first full season with Texas, Billy Martin transformed the club from the laughingstock of the AL to a division contender, finishing in second place with a then-team record 84 victories. The club was led by Jim Sundberg, Mike Hargrove, Toby Harrah, and MVP Jeff Burroughs, each 25 years old or younger. Broberg, after dealing with trade rumors most of the offseason, spent the campaign shuttling between Texas and Triple-A Spokane, and never found his rhythm on either team. Despite an 0-4 record and 8.07 ERA in just 29 innings over 12 appearances (two starts) with the Rangers, he maintained he never lost his confidence, even when he was demoted. “I never had one of those ‘What’s happening? What am I going to do tomorrow?’ moments,” said a reflective Broberg. “I was playing baseball and getting paid. We rolled with the punches.” Broberg’s tenure with the Rangers ended on December 5, 1974, when he was shipped to the Milwaukee Brewers in exchange for pitcher Clyde Wright.

The 25-year-old hurler looked forward to a fresh start in Milwaukee and the chance to escape Texas, where he thought he had not had a chance to pitch regularly the previous two years. “He can pitch,” said skipper Del Crandall of Broberg, “but he has to convince me that he can be a consistent pitcher.”14 And Broberg quickly did. Earning a spot in the rotation, he held Boston to four hits (three runs) in 6⅓ innings to win his first start, on April 9. He concluded his first month in Beer City by tossing a stellar three-hit shutout against the New York Yankees at Shea Stadium (where the club played in 1974-1975 while Yankee Stadium was being renovated). In that game Hank Aaron knocked in his 2,209th run to tie Babe Ruth’s record.  (Ruth’s RBI total has since then been adjusted.) Described by beat writer Lou Chapman as “Milwaukee’s nearest version of a stopper,” Broberg was arguably the biggest surprise on the 94-loss club.15 After a rough patch in late July, Broberg unveiled a new no-windup delivery in a complete-game three-hit loss to Oakland on August 17. In his final 10 starts of the season, Broberg posted a sturdy 2.85 ERA in 79 innings, yet won just four times for the low-scoring Brewers. During that stretch he tossed a career-high 10⅓ innings against the Yankees, yielding two earned runs to pick up the loss; and blanked Detroit on six hits to record the sixth and final shutout of his career.

“I played for my favorite manager, Del Crandall,” Broberg responded when asked about his seemingly unexpected turnaround. “Instead of pitching and looking over my shoulder and wondering if the pitching coach or manager was going to come get me the first time I walked somebody, Del said I’d pitch every four days.” In what proved to be the first and only time Broberg pitched in the starting rotation for a full season, the big right-hander set career highs in practically every category, including starts (32), innings (220⅓), and wins (14); he also led the AL in hit batters (16), and issued 106 walks. A tough-luck loser, Broberg was saddled with 16 defeats; however, in 14 of them Milwaukee scored just 17 total runs. 

Although Broberg had paced the Brewers in most pitching categories in 1975, new manager Alex Grammas was unimpressed in 1976. Citing Broberg’s control problems in spring training, Grammas relegated the right-hander to swingman to start the season. Insulted, Broberg felt that he had earned a chance start regularly. “Alex and I didn’t get along,” said Broberg bluntly. “They wanted to tinker with my motion and windup. I lost a couple close ones in the beginning, and all of a sudden I wasn’t getting a lot of work.” Broberg lost three straight starts despite yielding just four earned runs in 19⅔ innings to fall to 1-4 on May 27. After dropping his fifth straight decision, on June 5 (three earned runs in six innings against Kansas City), Broberg was shunted to the far end of the bullpen and made only 12 more appearances (three starts) the rest of the season. He finished with a 1-7 record and 4.97 ERA in 92⅓ innings.

Left unprotected in the major-league expansion draft in November 1976, Broberg was selected by the Seattle Mariners with the 35th overall pick. Broberg can be seen in an airbrushed Mariners cap on his 1977 Topps baseball card, but he never actually pitched a regular-season game for the club. Near the end of spring training, Broberg was designated for assignment;16 however, the Mariners had only a short-season Class A minor-league team. “Seattle loaned me to Wichita, the Cubs Triple-A team,” explained Broberg, whose anticipated journey back to the big leagues was shorter than expected. “I pitched against the Cubs in an exhibition game and had a lot of strikeouts, and then the Cubs traded for me.” On April 20 Chicago acquired Broberg. (Jim Todd was shipped to Oakland on October 25 to complete the deal.) Assigned officially to Wichita, Broberg was recalled in early July. He made 22 relief appearances, often in mopup situations, and logged 36 innings.

Broberg looked forward to camp with the Cubs in 1978 and an opportunity to prove that he was still a capable starting pitcher. “I was having too good of a spring and [the Cubs] didn’t know what to do with me,” said Broberg of his unexpected trade to the Oakland A’s on March 29 for utilityman Rodney Scott and cash. “The Cubs had used me a reliever, and they didn’t know what person they’d bump out of the rotation.” Defying expectations, Broberg resurrected his career yet again by scattering four hits over 7⅓ scoreless innings against Seattle to win the first of four consecutive decisions. With a record of 9-6 (3.53 ERA) on July 3, Broberg seemed headed for his best year as the surprising A’s challenged for the AL West crown, just 1½ games off the pace (41-39). But as Oakland slumped the rest of the season to finish in last place, so too did Broberg. He went winless in his next 10 starts (11 appearances), posting a 6.85 ERA and logging just 44 , and was relegated to the bullpen. In a spot start in the second game of a doubleheader against Texas at Arlington Stadium on September 10, Broberg tossed a four-hit complete game to win, 4-1, in what proved to be his last big-league victory. He finished with a 10-12 record and 4.62 ERA in 165⅔ innings.

Just 28 years old, Broberg signed with the Los Angeles Dodgers as a free agent in 1979. “When the general manager [Al Campanis] told me they wanted to send me down, I asked about my other options,” explained Broberg. “He tells me I can have my outright release. So I said just give it to me. I was released on Opening Day.” The Dodgers were forced to pay Broberg his entire $65,000 salary instead of just a portion of it. But it turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Three years earlier, Broberg had been accepted to law school and received notice that he could no longer defer matriculation. That fall he began his law studies at Nova Southeastern University in Fort Lauderdale, Florida.

Spending April at home in Palm Beach for the first time since his high-school days, Broberg turned down offers from the New York Mets and Seattle Mariners, who offered him the league minimum to pitch. “When they told me that they wouldn’t pay for my apartment or help with those kinds of expenses, I told them that it would cost me more money to play ball than stay at home and start law school in the autumn. And that’s what I did.”

In parts of eight seasons in the big leagues, Broberg fashioned a 41-71 record, started 134 of 206 games, and posted a 4.56 ERA in 963 innings. He never suffered a baseball-related injury, but admitted with a chuckle, “I got my ego bruised.” He toiled for primarily terrible teams which finished in last or next to last in six of his eight seasons. “It’s a real distraction,” said Broberg candidly about playing for poor ball clubs. “Guys come to the ballpark expecting to lose and that’s not a good mindset. Teams I played for were 198 games under .500. A bad statistic – but the actual one.”

Asked about his most vivid memory in his major-league career, Broberg gave a surprising response. “Ted [Williams] was a surly guy,” he began, and then reminisced about a hitting contest and fundraiser in support of the Jimmy Fund cancer charity prior to a game between the Texas and Boston at Fenway Park on August 25, 1972. “Finally it’s time for Ted to hit – he’s hitting last,” said Broberg. “He takes off his jacket and has his big belly hanging down. He goes up to the bat rack, going around looking for a bat. And then turns around to us in the dugout and says ‘No wonder you fucking guys can’t hit.’” Just shy of his 54th birthday, Williams popped up a few before the scene changed dramatically. “You could hear him yell at the batting practice pitcher [Boston’s pitching coach Lee Stange], ‘throw the fucking ball harder.’ ” recalled Broberg. “Williams started hitting line drives all over Fenway and into the seats. It was unbelievable to watch him hit.”

As of 2015, Broberg has lived his entire life in Palm Beach. In July 1975 he married local resident Beverly Deitz, and together they raised two children, Erik and Elizabeth. Following his father’s footsteps, Broberg became a successful attorney, focusing primarily on estate planning and real estate, and a partner in the law firm of Coe & Broberg. He has been active in the community, and has served as director of the Palm Beach Chamber of Commerce, chairman of the local recreation committee, and member of the planning and zoning board for the town.

Inducted with his father into the Palm Beach County Sports Hall of Fame in 1984, Broberg never lost his passion for baseball. He briefly revived his career when he played for the West Palm Beach Tropics in the short-lived Senior Professional Baseball Association in 1989. He often pitched batting practice to his son’s high-school baseball team, and participated in reunions and old-timer’s games with his former teams. In 2000 he was one of the guest speakers at SABR’s national convention in West Palm Beach.

As of 2015, Broberg lived with his wife in Palm Beach.

The author expresses his gratitude to Peter Broberg whom the author interviewed on July 29, 2015. Broberg subsequently read this biography to ensure its accuracy.

This article was published in “The Team That Couldn’t Hit: The 1972 Texas Rangers” (SABR, 2019), edited by Steve West and Bill Nowlin.

Notes

1 All quotations from Pete Broberg are from the author’s interview with the player on July 29, 2015.

2 “Indians Outlast PB Broberg, 1-0,” Fort Pierce (Florida) News Tribune, March 25, 1968.

3 Charles Chamberlain, “Two Undefeated Teams in NCAA Baseball,” Indiana (Pennsylvania) Gazette, June 15, 1970: 19.

4 UPI, “Pete Broberg Is Draft Bait,” Zanesville (Ohio) Times Recorder, May 13, 1971: 8-B.

5 Ibid.; Season statistics from Dartmouth Big Green Baseball, dartmouthsports.com/ViewArticle.dbml?ATCLID=205122513. Twenty strikeouts from Will Parrish, “Broberg Ready to Give Pro Ball a Whirl,” Palm Beach (Florida) Post, May 28, 1971, D4.

6 AP, “Senators Made Pitcher No. 1 Pick in Draft,” Salisbury (Maryland) Times Daily, June 10, 1971: 17.

7 AP, “Broberg Makes Sox Believers; Bonus Baby Lives Up to Name,” Lowell (Massachusetts) Sun, June 21, 1971: 40.

8 Pitch count from “Williams Happy; Broberg Dissatisfied by Debut,” Palm Beach (Florida) Post, June 21, 1971: C1.

9 Larry Eldridge, AP, “Pete Broberg Impresses Ted,” Cumberland (Maryland) Evening Times, June 30, 1971: 38.

10 AP, “One Pitch Beats Broberg,” The Capitol (Annapolis, Maryland), August 25, 1971: 19.

11 Ibid.

12 Red Smith, “Sports of the Times. Walter Johnson II,” Warren (Pennsylvania) Times-Mirror and Observer,” March 21, 1971: 8

13 AP, “Peter Broberg. Ted Williams Expects Assist From Pitcher,” Lubbock (Texas) Avalanche-Journal, April 25, 1872: 12.

14 Joe Saggis, UPI, “Team Sizeup: Milwaukee Brewers,” Raleigh Register (Beckley, West Virginia), March 17, 1975: 1.

15 Lou Chapman, “Broberg Must Prove Self to Join Starting Rotation,” Milwaukee Sentinel,” April 7, 1976: 1.

16 AP, “Pete Broberg Sent to Cubs,” Progress Bulletin (Pomona, California), April 20, 1977: 41.

Joseph Roy Burke was born in Louisville, Kentucky, on December 8, 1923. Descended from Irish immigrants, he was the second of five children of Joseph E. Burke, a shipping clerk, and Lillie Morris. Among Burke’s memories of his youth, one of his favorites was seeing Pee Wee Reese playing softball before he signed for his hometown team, the Double-A Louisville Colonels.¹

In 1943 Burke enlisted in the US Army, and his enlistment form stated that he had four years of high school, and was an unskilled worker in beverage production. He performed well in the Army, eventually being promoted to staff sergeant while assigned to the Intelligence Division of the Troop Carrier Command. With this assignment he traveled extensively in Europe, North Africa, and South America.

Coming out of the Army after the war, Burke had few prospects. His father had died of heart problems during the war, and his mother could not afford to send him to college, so he took a job at the post office while taking night classes to become an accountant.² Burke played softball, and one of his teammates introduced him to Mary Hayden, who soon became his wife. Mary worked as treasurer for the now Triple-A Colonels, and in December 1948 Joe asked her to arrange a meeting with the new club president, Ed Doherty.

”I went in and asked him for a job. I told him I had no qualifications whatsoever. He said he had only one job – working in the ticket office. It meant a cut in pay from my post-office job, but I took it.”³ It was the beginning of a long association between Burke and Doherty.

Beginning with Louisville in the 1949 season as a ticket seller, Burke quickly rose through the ranks. A year later he was promoted to head of ballpark operations; in 1952 he became business manager; in 1953 he was traveling secretary; and in 1956 he became acting general manager, a position he gained full-time in 1958.

Many years later Burke told the story that in 1951 he had left Louisville to take a job with an unidentified minor-league club as general manager, with Doherty’s approval. However, when he and his wife arrived and got a look at the club’s books, they found “the club he wanted me to run was $30,000 in debt. He owed bills from spring training the year before. … After 11 hours on the job I quit. … I went back to Louisville. … Doherty said to get back to work and forget it.”⁴

The 1950s were a tough time for Louisville. With poor teams on the field, they were unable to draw crowds, so the team was beset with financial problems. When they were sued by the University of Louisville in 1956 for unpaid rent, Burke said the team had $50,000 in debt. By juggling debts here and there, he staved off the creditors that time, but the problems continued.

Burke became general manager on January 14, 1958, and immediately got to work on the money problems. He began a program he called “Operation Survival,” designed to raise enough money to pay the team’s bills for the season. The team planned to raise $50,000 from local businesses, but managed to collect only $17,000. Still, this was enough for the American Association to step in and provide an emergency fund of $24,000 to keep the team going through the season.⁵ In addition, Kentucky Governor (and former Baseball Commissioner) Happy Chandler stated that he would arrange for the team to use Fairgrounds Stadium rent-free for the season, which saved the club $10,000.⁶

At the end of the season Burke was given the task of saving the Colonels by the board of directors. With on- and off-field failures, the team was in dire trouble, even borrowing money from the Baltimore Orioles just to keep the business office open through the end of the year.⁷ Burke managed to find a solution. In November Milwaukee Braves officials announced that they had reached an agreement for the Colonels to become their top farm club, saving the team that was virtually defunct. (Legally, the Louisville club was dissolved and Milwaukee moved its Wichita franchise to Louisville, taking the old club’s name.) Burke was retained as assistant to new general manager Lynn Stone. “I know Louisville has been a great baseball town and will be again,” said Braves vice president Birdie Tebbetts.⁸

The team flourished in 1959, but at the beginning of 1960 Stone resigned, and Burke got the job once more. His efforts then, and over the previous years, brought him reward after the season, when the Louisville Baseball Writers Association honored him at its annual dinner as Man of the Year. It was a bittersweet moment for both Burke and the writers; shortly before being honored, Burke had left the team, moving another step up the baseball ladder.

Doherty had left the Colonels in 1953 to become president of the American Association. Burke had made a great impression on him: ”After I worked with him for three or four years, he told me if he ever went to the major leagues in any capacity he would take me with him.”⁹ Sure enough, when Doherty became general manager of the expansion Washington Senators, Burke got a call, and became Doherty’s assistant in charge of stadium operations.

By now, moving was a big deal for Burke, as his family had grown over the years. Along with his wife, he took his seven children (one other child had died shortly after birth) and moved to a large home in McLean, Virginia, just outside Washington.

After two seasons in charge of the Senators, Doherty was fired as general manager. Team President Pete Quesada hired former Yankees outfielder George Selkirk to replace Doherty and moved Burke to business manager. Burke, who had been considered the leading candidate for the GM job, received a two-year contract extension with a salary increase, but set his sights higher: “I hope to be a general manager some day, either with Washington or some place else, and will work hard toward that position.”¹⁰

“There aren’t many more knowledgeable baseball people than Burke,” one writer wrote at the time. In that 1962 story, Burke listed cities he felt were ready for major-league ball: Atlanta, Dallas, Toronto, Seattle, Buffalo, and Denver. He wasn’t too far off in his expansion plan either – Burke thought there would be four six-club leagues in the future.¹¹ He was less successful in his prognostications a couple of years later. While he correctly predicted the coming of pay-TV and a free-agent draft, his misses included envisioning that Congress would pass antitrust laws for baseball, and that there would be a single minor league, with all players instead going through greatly expanded college ranks, similar to the way football works.¹²

At the beginning of 1963 the team was bought by investment bankers James Johnston and James Lemon, who informed Selkirk, Burke, and manager Mickey Vernon that they would not only keep their jobs but would have expanded authority with the club.¹³ In mid-1964 Johnston gave a strong vote of confidence in Selkirk and Burke, extending their contracts, which he did again in 1967.

Johnston died at the end of 1968, leaving his partner, Lemon, in charge of the team. In a boardroom reorganization, Burke was promoted to vice president and treasurer. Everything changed at the end of the year when Lemon sold the team to Bob Short. Short came in and quickly disrupted things, firing Selkirk and announcing that he would act as general manager himself. He decided that Burke could stay, but adjusted his position to be vice president for administration.

Burke quickly became an adviser to Short on baseball matters. By 1972 both were referring to “us” and “we” when talking about trades, as in “They have not offered us anything we feel would make a square deal,” which Burke said when talking about a possible Denny McLain trade.¹⁴ During 1972, after the Washington club became the Texas Rangers, Burke was officially named general manager, although his influence with Short was limited as long as the dominant Ted Williams was manager. Once Williams resigned at the end of the 1972 season, Burke grew in power.

Burke and Short interviewed at least 25 candidates to succeed Williams, and eventually chose Whitey Herzog, who had been backed by Burke.¹⁵ “The Rangers are a triumvirate, including Mr. Short, Whitey, and me. Decisions are made only after we’ve studied all the angles,” Burke said just a month later.¹⁶

It was notable that during the Williams era Burke developed a strong farm system, ran the spring-training complex in Florida, and did what he could to be involved in places that Williams was not. With Herzog, Burke found a manager who shared many of his ideas, such as giving young players a chance and avoiding platooning where possible. Burke’s ideas began to take root.¹⁷

But it didn’t last long. Burke surprised everyone, not least Short, by resigning on September 2, 1973, to take a position with another club. Short had tried to talk Burke out of the move for three months, before accepting his resignation.¹⁸ Just five days later Short fired Herzog, Burke’s man, and brought in Billy Martin as manager.

Burke’s new role turned out to be as vice president of business operations for the Kansas City Royals. Owner Ewing Kauffman had decided to split the general manager’s role, leaving Cedric Tallis in charge of the baseball side of things, and giving everything else to Burke.

“It was a difficult decision to leave the Rangers,” Burke said. “All of my life I wanted to be a general manager. I am thankful to Bob Short for giving me that opportunity. But this is a new challenge that I couldn’t turn down.”¹⁹ Burke later said that the ongoing instability in Texas was a big reason for his leaving. “I spent too much time with clubs that didn’t offer security.”²⁰

Burke’s time out of the general manager position lasted less than a year. On June 11, 1974, Kauffman demoted Tallis and promoted Burke to executive vice president and general manager of the Royals, saying, “Mr. Burke will be responsible only to me for the entire operation. Mr. Burke was selected over Mr. Tallis because of the ever-increasing complexities of the operation of a baseball club. Mr. Burke has the business and baseball experience that makes him well qualified for the new position.”²¹

Kauffman pointed out that the Royals had lost $900,000 in 1973 (and would lose an estimated $1 million in 1974), and wanted Burke to bring them back even, a goal that probably gave Burke flashbacks to his time in Louisville. Even so, he said he planned few changes, because he had been surprised by the decision the day before. Still, he said, “I’m not egotistical, but I’m not afraid of my new job. I know what’s involved, and I know the key is delegating authority to the right people.”²²

Burke quickly signed manager Jack McKeon to a two-year contract extension. By the winter he was deep in trade discussions, trying to obtain pitching. In a surprising move, given his history of player development, he cut three farm teams (leaving the Royals with four), and joined the Major League Scouting Bureau, cutting his own scouting staff from 23 to 6.²³ These moves were intended to reduce operating costs, and along with an increase in ticket prices, designed to stop the team’s losses.²⁴

During the 1975 season the team struggled to perform as well as expected, and at the end of July Burke made the decision to fire McKeon even though the team was in second place (11 games out). He brought in Whitey Herzog, his old friend from Texas, to be the manager. Burke made it clear that in both the firing and hiring decisions, Kauffman had no involvement other than to approve Burke’s recommendations.²⁵ For his part, McKeon held no grudges. “Ewing Kauffman and Joe Burke are good people. I can’t say anything except good things about them. Both of them have been fair and honest to me.”²⁶

Things improved over the rest of the season, but they ended the season seven games behind Oakland, and Burke knew he had seen enough to make changes. “We know where we stand and what we have to do to improve. I feel certain we’ll make some changes.”²⁷ They did, promoting Lou Gorman to assistant general manager and John Schuerholz to farm director. Burke then released veteran Harmon Killebrew, let pitcher Lindy McDaniel retire, and made it clear that several other veterans would be cleared out to make way for young players from the farm system.

With the Messersmith-McNally decision coming down during the winter, big changes were on the way to baseball. Pitchers Andy Messersmith and Dave McNally claimed that the standard reserve clause in their contracts meant they were free agents, after playing out a season without a contract. In December 1975 an arbitrator agreed, making those two players free agents, and potentially allowing any other unsigned player to follow suit. Burke moved quickly to sign many of his players, to avoid looming problems. One advantage he had was in being fair to players: “I’ve never believed in playing games with people. When we sit down to talk, my first offer is one I believe to be fair and reasonable. I think that when management takes this approach, the player tends to be realistic.”²⁸

But owners began a lockout in spring training, which lasted a couple of weeks and ultimately ended up with owners and players agreeing on the beginnings of free agency. Burke was considered a moderate in the dispute because he accepted that there would be modification of the current system. He declined to comment during the lockout, though. “I feel we have an excellent attitude on this club and that there is harmony between the players and the front office,” he said. “We’ve worked too hard to build up a positive attitude and I’m not going to start destroying it now.”²⁹

Burke then changed the Royals’ attitude to contracts. Although the Royals had never previously given out more than a two-year deal, Burke surprised everyone by handing outfielder John Mayberry a five-year contract for more than a million dollars.³⁰ He realized that what would work in the age of free agency was signing young and upcoming players to long-term deals, and did so with a number of his players over the next year.³¹

On the field in 1976 the Royals started slowly, but once they got going everything clicked. They moved into first place in mid-May and pushed their lead as high as 12 games by early August. They faded the rest of the way, but hung on to win their first-ever division title by 2½ games over Oakland. Then followed a thrilling ALCS, which the Yankees won three games to two on a home run by Chris Chambliss in the bottom of the ninth of Game Five.

Looking to boost the team for the future, the Royals looked at several free agents, but weren’t able to sign any. This pattern played out consistently over the next few years, with the core of the team coming from the farm system that Tallis had set up. A conservative policy from Kauffman said that they wouldn’t pay free agents more than they paid their own stars, but that meant they were never likely to be in on top free agents.³² Talking on how players would use others’ big contracts to boost their own value, Burke said, “We should not be held accountable for what New York and California do.”³³

More honors came to Burke at the end of 1976, when he was named The Sporting News Executive of the Year. The publication cited his “strong, stable leadership” in improving the team on and off the field. They described how the club was split between the baseball and business sides before he arrived, and there was conflict among several personalities in the organization. Burke had united the club and removed conflicts, turned the financial side around, made a solid team and a productive farm system.³⁴

As he often did, Burke played down his own role in receiving the award. He said, “I’ve never been one to seek publicity or notoriety. In this business you cannot do it alone. … The credit should go to the organization, not to one person. … I think the award I have received is a tribute to everyone in our organization and to the type of ownership provided by Mr. and Mrs. Kauffman.”³⁵

The 1977 season proved to be better than 1976. The Royals took over first in mid-August, and a 16-game win streak in September helped push them to 102 wins for the season, easily winning the division. Once more they faced the Yankees in the ALCS, and once more they lost three games to two, despite winning two of the first three games and leading, 3-1, in the final game, which they lost 5-3.

Despite their success, they knew they couldn’t stand still. Both Burke and Kauffman said that the prior season had been about taking care of the club’s current players, but that for 1978 they would bring in a couple of free agents. “You have to improve your club every year. I just don’t believe in disrupting the club during the season, making a flock of changes, bringing players in and out,” Burke said.³⁶ But they still didn’t make any big signings or trades, and Burke was dismayed at the criticism they received. “We haven’t made any spectacular trades, so right away people say we’re a stand-pat club. We’re going to have five or six new faces on our team this year, just like we did last year.”³⁷ On the other hand, third baseman George Brett gave the front office credit at the end of the regular season for believing in the players they had: “Joe Burke … showed a lot by not going out and getting a lot of big-money players in the free-agent market.”³⁸

The Royals finished the 1978 season 10 games worse than the previous season, but with 92 wins they won their division by five games, and were matched with the Yankees for a third consecutive ALCS. This time they lost the series three games to one, with their only highlight being Brett hitting three home runs in Game Three. After elimination, the tune changed, with several players and manager Herzog openly questioning why the team hadn’t signed some free agents to put them over the top. “We need to have some quality players,” DH Hal McRae said, adding that Burke and Kauffman “are going to have to decide if they want a good team or a great team.” Said Herzog: “In spite of what the top echelon says, we’ve got to get off our rears.”³⁹

The conservative approach stayed in place, and the team didn’t make any serious moves for 1979 either, which came back to haunt them as the predictions of falling behind came true. They contended all the way, but finished three games behind the Angels for the division title. Burke knew where he wanted to place blame, firing Herzog right after the season ended. “It is a decision that is mine and one for which I accept full responsibility. … I am not giving any specific reason other than that I believe we need the change.” Herzog himself blamed player grumbling for the move, with a number of veterans feeling they would have won the pennant if he had played them.⁴⁰ He also slammed the front office, saying that he had wanted them to get involved in the free-agent market. “I figured when they fired me they’d go out and sign a couple of pitchers, but I guess they don’t want to. They’re not going after free agents like they really want to sign them.”⁴¹

A few weeks after firing Herzog, Burke hired Orioles first-base coach Jim Frey as manager. “He has extensive background in baseball and has dedicated his life to the game. We feel Jim is the man to continue our development of the Royals,” Burke said.⁴² The move worked, as with a 97-65 record they cruised to winning their division, then finally won an ALCS, sweeping the Yankees in three games before losing the World Series to the Philadelphia Phillies in six games. Burke said that the Royals had come of age three years earlier, but the stakes were now higher. “We’re not losers. We’re not going to let anybody put that tag on us again.”⁴³

Burke still wouldn’t get involved in the free-agent market, though. Not wanting to spend big money, he stayed away from the top free agents, and wasn’t even interested in lesser ones. “You can’t take a chance on a middle-range player anymore. One or two players are not going to turn around a club.”⁴⁴ This attitude began to rebound as some of his star players approached free agency, as Burke looked to hold the line against them too. Hal McRae, second baseman Frank White, and pitcher Dennis Leonard all talked of frustration that the Royals weren’t moving quickly, and that they weren’t offering the money the players could get elsewhere.⁴⁵

In the late 1970s Burke became a member of the owners’ Player Relations Committee. Players and owners were beginning work on a new Basic Agreement, with the two sides seemingly preparing for war. That war arrived in 1981 with a strike by players, which wiped out a significant part of the season. By now Burke and the Royals were hardliners in terms of player relations, although he denied this. “I’ve never been a hawk on anything. I wouldn’t call Ewing Kauffman a hawk, either. He has strong feelings, but he always is concerned with the best interests of the game.”⁴⁶

A few weeks after the strike ended, Burke fired manager Jim Frey. The team was 10-10 in the second half, and Burke felt something was missing. “It has been apparent during most of the year that the winning combination has not been present,” he said.⁴⁷ He quickly hired former Yankees manager Dick Howser to run the Royals. The Royals then raced away to win the second half of the split season, but were swept in the Division Series by Oakland.

In August 1981 Burke was diagnosed with lymphoma, and began to undergo chemotherapy to treat the disease. In October he was promoted to team president, a less demanding position to help in his recovery. The Royals promoted his assistant, John Schuerholz, to general manager.

At the end of 1980, Kauffman had allowed Burke to become the first stockholder in the team other than Kauffman and his wife. This was his way of showing his appreciation for the way Burke had operated the team.⁴⁸

Over the years Burke had become more involved in the league side of baseball. Apart from his involvement in the Player Relations Committee, in 1981 he testified at a National Labor Relations Board hearing, stating that management did not completely control salaries, because some players went to arbitration, where a third party chose the salary. He also said that fans pressured teams to re-sign players, which was an indirect influence on salaries.⁴⁹

Later, in 1987, Burke was a member of the American League expansion committee. One of the complaints he dismissed was that there weren’t enough players good enough to play if the major leagues expanded. “Even when we had eight teams in each league, everyone was crying about not having enough left-handed pitching. No matter how many teams there are, there will be the same talent complaints.”⁵⁰

Burke dealt with other off-field problems, too. As general manager in 1980 he was approached by catcher Darrell Porter, who admitted to having drug and alcohol problems. Burke helped him get admitted to rehab, and supported his return to the team.⁵¹ In 1983, while president, he helped deal with the fallout from the arrests of four Royals players for cocaine possession. And in 1986 Royals manager Howser was diagnosed with cancer, and left the team for surgery and recovery. He came back the following spring, but was too weak to continue as manager, so he officially resigned, and died later that summer. During his ordeal, Burke stood right by him, to help him get through it. Having experienced it himself, Burke knew just how much work it would take to recover. Burke was also the one to tell Howser that it was time to resign, when he saw what a physical toll managing was taking.⁵²

In the early 1980s the team stumbled a little, but the drug scandal helped them reboot, and 1985 finally produced the breakthrough they had been waiting for. After a 91-win season, they went to the ALCS against the Blue Jays. Down three games to one, they won three in a row – the last two in Toronto – to go to their second World Series, this time against the in-state rivals St. Louis Cardinals. Again they found themselves down three games to one, and again they rallied to win all three and get their first championship.

Burke celebrated with his team, and even got in a dig at Kansas City’s reputation. To the 300,000 fans at the victory parade he said, “Across the country, when everyone awoke this morning and read the newspapers, they realized that everything is up to date in Kansas City.”⁵³

Burke had suffered through several health issues in his later years, apart from the cancer. He had had surgery in 1979 to repair ruptured discs in his neck, and in 1985 had his gall bladder removed. The cancer returned in 1992, and while undergoing treatment, Joe Burke died at the University of Kansas Medical Center on May 12, 1992.

Burke was eulogized across baseball as a good and honorable man. “Joe Burke was not only a great man in baseball, but was a great one individually and toward all other human beings. I shall miss him very much personally and professionally,” said Kauffman.⁵⁴ Commissioner Fay Vincent said, “Joe was one of the most beloved figures in baseball. Joe gave the game a measure of dignity and grace that long will be remembered.”⁵⁵

“Joe Burke has been a pillar of strength in our organization for many years. He has touched all of us in a very special way while providing direction and leadership,” Royals GM Herk Robinson said,⁵⁶ while one of his former players, George Brett, said, “He was like a father to me when I first came up. Joe gave me fatherly advice all the time. … When you walked out of his office you felt good.”⁵⁷

“The thing I remember most was his patience with any situation,” said Hal McRae. “People were always putting pressure on him to make trades. Joe would always say sometimes the best trade is the one you never made.”⁵⁸ Burke’s former assistant general manager, Lou Gorman, said that Burke “was a kind, thoughtful and gentle man with an extremely pleasant personality.”⁵⁹

This biography was published in “1972 Texas Rangers: The Team that Couldn’t Hit” (SABR, 2019), edited by Steve West and Bill Nowlin.

Notes

¹ Joe McGuff, “Royals’ Joe Burke Gains Executive of the Year Honor,” The Sporting News, December 11, 1976: 36, 40.

² Ibid.

³ Bill Fuchs, “Marriage Got Burke Into Baseball,” Washington Evening Star, March 25, 1962: G7.

⁴ Ibid.

⁵ Frank Haraway, “One Worry Eased, Another Increased,” The Sporting News, May 21, 1958: 29.

⁶ Johnny Carrico, “Chandler Takes Step to Lower Colonels’ Rent,” The Sporting News, May 21, 1958; 29.

⁷ “Burke Told to Try to Save Colonels,” Lexington (Kentucky) Herald, October 31, 1958: 8.

⁸ “Braves Promise Finest Talent for Colonels,” Lexington (Kentucky) Leader, November 15, 1958: 8.

⁹ Fuchs.

¹⁰ Merrell Whittlesey, “Selkirk Open to Deals for Any Senator,” Washington Evening Star, November 22, 1962: G1.

¹¹ Francis Stann, “Win, Lose or Draw,” Washington Sunday Star, January 14, 1962: C2.

¹² Dave Brady, “Nats Looking Ahead; Ink TV Pact Hinging on New Package Plan,” The Sporting News, February 22, 1964: 22.

¹³ Shirley Povich, “Quesada cashes In – All’s Quiet Again Along the Potomac,” The Sporting News, February 9, 1963: 14.

¹⁴ Randy Galloway, “Deal for Denny Is Still a Possibility,” The Sporting News, January 29, 1972: 36.

¹⁵ Randy Galloway, “Rangers’ Bats Weak, Skipper Herzog Admits,” The Sporting News, November 18, 1972: 39.

¹⁶ Merle Heryford, “Ranger Burke Covers More Ground,” The Sporting News, December 30, 1972: 44.

¹⁷ Ibid.

¹⁸ “O’Brien Succeeds Burke in Rangers’ G.M. Chair,” The Sporting News, September 15, 1973: 4.

¹⁹ “Joe Burke Joins Royals,” The Sporting News, September 22, 1973: 15.

²⁰ Sid Bordman, “Royals Promote Burke to G.M. Post,” The Sporting News, June 29, 1974: 12.

²¹ Ibid.

²² Ibid.

²³ “Royals Cut Scout Staff, Farm System,” The Sporting News, November 23, 1974: 61.

²⁴ Joe McGuff, “Royals See Chance to End Red-Ink Flow in 1975,” The Sporting News, March 1, 1975: 46.

²⁵ Joe McGuff, “Tiffs with Players, Press End Mckeon Reign at K.C.,” The Sporting News, August 9, 1975: 9.

²⁶ Ibid.

²⁷ Joe McGuff, “Lindy’s Exit Could Start Royal Housecleaning,” The Sporting News, October 11, 1975: 21.

²⁸ Joe McGuff, “Quick Signings Viewed as Flag Sign in K.C.,” The Sporting News, February 28, 1976: 37.

²⁹ Joe McGuff, “Slow-Starting Mingori Major Victim of Lockout,” The Sporting News, March 13, 1976: 44.

³⁰ Joe McGuff, “Royals’ New Pact Makes Mayberry a Millionaire,” The Sporting News, April 3, 1976: 42.

³¹ Peter Gammons, “Money Can’t Buy Me Love,” Sports Illustrated, April 23, 1990: 34.

³² Joe McGuff, “Free Agents Slow Royals’ Trade Talk to a Crawl,” The Sporting News, December 4, 1976: 60.

³³ Joe McGuff, “Royals Hoping for Compromise on Salaries,” The Sporting News, January 22, 1977: 41.

³⁴ Joe McGuff, “Royals’ Joe Burke Gains Executive of the Year Honor,” The Sporting News, December 11, 1976: 36, 40.

³⁵ Ibid.

³⁶ Sid Bordman, “Security and Pride Cited as Keys to Royal Success,” The Sporting News, October 15, 1977: 12.

³⁷ Del Black, “Foes Stronger, Royals Are Too, Says Herzog,” The Sporting News, April 22, 1978: 24.

³⁸ Sid Bordman, “Champion Royals Calmly Sip Champagne,” The Sporting News, October 14, 1978: 31.

³⁹ Sid Bordman, “Cracks in Royals’ Castle? Herzog, Players Complain,” The Sporting News, October 28, 1978: 11.

⁴⁰ Del Black, “‘Why?’ Folks Ask at Whitey’s Exit,” The Sporting News, October 20, 1979: 29.

⁴¹ Del Black, “Whitey Rips Royals’ Milquetoast Style,” The Sporting News, December 15, 1979: 51.

⁴² Sid Bordman, “Frey Expects to Win in 1980 with Royals,” The Sporting News, November 10, 1979: 46.

⁴³ Mike DeArmond, “After a Taste of Series, Royals Want It All,” The Sporting News, November 8, 1980: 38.

⁴⁴ Mike DeArmond, “Porter Only Free-Agent Fish in the Sea for the Royals,” The Sporting News, November 29, 1980: 46.

⁴⁵ Mike DeArmond, “Leonard, K.C. – Big Silence,” The Sporting News, January 31, 1981: 52; DeArmond, “’McRae-White Plan’ Upsets Royals,” The Sporting News, January 24, 1981: 51.

⁴⁶ Mike McKenzie, “Royals: Gura Growing,” The Sporting News, August 22, 1981: 44.

⁴⁷ “Royals Fire Frey; Howser to Manage,” The Sporting News, September 12, 1981: 75.

⁴⁸ Mike DeArmond, “Hurdle in Dark Over His Role with Royals,” The Sporting News, January 10, 1981: 39.

⁴⁹ William R. Barnard, “Envelopes May Have Key to Settling Strike,” Lexington (Kentucky) Leader, July 10, 1981: C1.

⁵⁰ Paul Attner, “Big Bang,” The Sporting News, March 18, 1991: 19.

⁵¹ Mike DeArmond, “An ‘Aware’ Porter Tells His Story,” The Sporting News, July 12, 1980: 19.

⁵² Bob Nightengale, “Howser: Battle Over, War Begins,” The Sporting News, March 9, 1987: 27.

⁵³ “300,000 Hail Royals During 2-Hour Parade,” Augusta (Georgia) Chronicle, October 29, 1985: 13A.

⁵⁴ “Royals President Joe Burke Dead at 68,” Ellensburg (Washington) Daily Record, May 14, 1992: 12.

⁵⁵ Dick Kaegel, “Kansas City Royals,” The Sporting News, May 25, 1992: 26.

⁵⁶ “Royals President Joe Burke Dead at 68.”

⁵⁷ Ibid.

⁵⁸ Ibid.

⁵⁹ Lou Gorman, High and Inside: My Life in the Front Offices of Baseball (Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland, 2007). 130.

But the 16-year major-league career of Jeffrey Alan Burroughs was not all rosy. His relationship with his first big-league manager – the Splendid Splinter – turned personal and bitter (due largely to the meddling of Bob Short, the Rangers’ owner). Further difficulties erupted with future Hall of Fame skipper Bobby Cox over playing time in Atlanta (this relationship was mended in Toronto in 1985). Meanwhile Burroughs’ vacillating production (1974 MVP; .226 in 1975) fueled his critics and frustrated his champions. By 28 he was largely relegated to a platoon role, destroying the once overheated projections that Burroughs might one day overtake the home-run marks established by Hank Aaron and Roger Maris.

Burroughs was born to Charles Douglas and Iona Mae (Maxvold) Burroughs in Long Beach, California. The Burroughs family traced its roots to Charles’s namesake in Virginia in the late eighteenth century. A series of westerly moves ensued until Charles’s birth in southeast Nebraska in 1918. During World War II he moved to California, where he met Iona. On August 14, 1945, they married.3 Six years later – on March 7, 1951 – Jeffrey was welcomed to the fold.

Burroughs’ upbringing included standard teenage hijinks: in one instance gluing geese to his neighbors’ mailboxes. More productive pursuits were found on the gridiron and diamonds of Long Beach’s Woodrow Wilson High School. Knee surgery curtailed Burroughs’ football track but did not slow his baseball chase. His prowess – as a pitcher and hitter – advanced Wilson High’s baseball-rich talent that included Hall of Famer Bob Lemon, bonus baby Bob Bailey, and Burroughs’ infield teammate Bobby Grich. Burroughs led his team to a city championship and in 1969, his senior year, was a California 4-A select player. Destined for Arizona State University’s successful baseball program, Burroughs was soon preyed upon by the professional scouts.

Eight years removed from expansion, the Washington Senators – courtesy of a major-league-leading 96 losses in 1968 – owned the first pick in the 1969 amateur draft. This fact did not preclude the aggressive pursuit of Burroughs and other highly sought-after talent by other clubs, necessitating Commissioner Bowie Kuhn’s warning concerning tampering. In mid-May the Senators, during a road swing through Anaheim, invited Burroughs to a pregame workout. Despite the youngster’s “sub-par ratings in every department other than hitting,”4 Washington’s draft leanings were validated after Burroughs knocked five balls out of the cavernous park. A month later the 18-year-old became the fifth athlete to be selected first overall in the major leagues’ amateur draft.

Awarded an $88,000 signing bonus, Burroughs reported to the Wytheville (Virginia) Senators in the Appalachian League.5 Assigned to first base, the right-handed hitter wasted no time getting acclimated to the Rookie League: a near-.400 average in his first 78 professional at-bats. When the short season ended, Burroughs placed among the league leaders in nearly every offensive category while earning selection to the league’s All-Rookie squad.

Ted Williams was resolute in his belief that hitters required a lengthy apprenticeship (1,200-2,000 at-bats) before advancing to the majors. This conviction did not prevent the Senators manager from wanting another firsthand look at Burroughs in spring camp in 1970. A non-roster invitee, he encountered major-league pitching for the first time on March 5 – two days before his 19th birthday – in an exhibition game against the New York Yankees. Burroughs grounded into a double play in his first at-bat and, shortly thereafter, committed an error at first base. (“I don’t have a very good glove,” he sheepishly admitted.6) All was forgiven when Burroughs connected for a towering home run. He continued to excite his veteran teammates with another blast 16 days later – a game-tying ninth-inning drive in Pompano Beach against Atlanta righty Pat Jarvis. Before spring camp, management had wrestled with Burroughs’ minor-league placement. After his strong Grapefruit League performance, the slugger was advanced to Triple A with the Denver Bears.

There, Burroughs was tried at third base in a short-lived experiment. The challenges at the new position affected his offense: just one hit in his first 21 at-bats. The production picked up considerably (.354 in his next 147 at-bats) after he was moved to first base and eventually the outfield, though he also exhibited a strong propensity for striking out. On May 4 Burroughs hit his first homer of the season – a grand slam against the Evansville Triplets in a losing effort. Two days later he hoisted two more home runs to lead the Bears to a 13-6 win over the Triplets. Pacing the Bears in homers and RBIs, Burroughs earned selection to the American Association All-Star squad.

After constant pestering from owner Bob Short, Ted Williams promoted the much-heralded youngster.7 On July 20, 1970, Burroughs made his major-league debut in right field against the Milwaukee Brewers in Robert F. Kennedy Stadium. He went hitless in three at-bats against veteran southpaw Al Downing. Four days later Burroughs collected his first big-league hit, a pinch-hit RBI single against Angels’ reliever Steve Kealey. (Burroughs was thrown out trying to stretch it into a double.) An infield single in his next appearance – his second start – resulted in Burroughs’ first run scored. He went hitless in his next seven at-bats and was reassigned to Denver. The big-league exposure appears to have been somewhat traumatic for the 19-year-old. Burroughs slumped to a .227-3-17 line in his final 141 at-bats, yet finished the season among the league leaders in home runs and RBIs.

Assigned to the Senators’ 40-man roster in 1971, Burroughs (the youngest player) reported to spring training under a self-imposed health-food regime (seeking to shed weight from a 215-pound girth). A pawn in the tug-of-war between Short and Williams, Burroughs strengthened the former’s cause after the team was compelled to install wire netting in the outfield to save the cost of balls Burroughs hit over the fence. The manager won out when Burroughs was reassigned to Denver before camp broke, but by July the young slugger was donning Senators garb after a strong American Association campaign. Starting against left-handers with the occasional pinch-hit appearance, Burroughs hit his first major-league home run on August 2, a pinch-hit three-run dinger into the upper right-field deck of Tiger Stadium to knot the score against Detroit veteran reliever Ron Perranoski. Burroughs received more playing time as Williams’s confidence in the youngster grew. On August 14 Angels lefty Clyde Wright was spinning a one-hit shutout against the Senators when Burroughs drove a seventh-inning pitch for a two-run homer and a 2-0 win. Six days later he collected five hits and five RBIs in a doubleheader sweep of the Kansas City Royals. One of the Senators’ hottest hitters in August (.286-4-19), he was slowed by a bruised shoulder in September. Finishing with a .232-5-25 record, he prepared for a Venezuelan winter campaign alongside teammate Toby Harrah and others.

The winter season bore dividends in 1972 Grapefruit League competition. In three games beginning March 10 Burroughs collected five hits, including two two-run homers, and seven RBIs. Burroughs was leading his club in home runs (5), and had won the starting left-field job, when he strained his lower back. The Opening Day left fielder for the newly-christened Texas Rangers became veteran slugger Frank Howard instead. Placed on the disabled list on April 26, Burroughs did not see steady play until May 16. A game-winning two-run homer off future Hall of Famer Bert Blyleven on May 21 proved Burroughs’ only highlight as he continued to struggle with his back. He tinkered with a variety of batting stances and adjustments in a failed attempt to find relief. A .185-1-3 line resulted in Burroughs’ assignment to Denver, where his struggles continued: .163 into July. As if throwing a switch, he experienced an extraordinary rebound with nine homers in 14 games. Burroughs finished among the league leaders with a .303 average and 24 home runs. “We have one helluva player on our hands in that kid,” exclaimed the Rangers’ new manager, Whitey Herzog.8

Burroughs was not unhappy about Williams’s departure. The seeds of animosity planted between manager and owner had evolved into a severe dislike between manager and player. When Burroughs reported to spring camp in 1973 he anxiously looked forward to playing for the future Hall of Fame skipper. A strong exhibition campaign included a two-homer, six-RBI outing on March 25 in a 15-7 rout of the Royals in Fort Myers, Florida. But Burroughs labored when the season began. On May 1 he led the Rangers to a 7-6 win over the Boston Red Sox with three hits and four RBIs. Eight days later his fifth-inning home run spared the Rangers from a no-hitter by Milwaukee righty Jim Colborn. But Burroughs’ .217-6-19 through June 6 sparked little fear in opposing pitchers. A .400 clip in 60 June at-bats – including a 13-game hit streak – righted his average. Home runs quickly followed, including a 475-foot wallop below the left-field scoreboard in Arlington Stadium.

On July 26 Burroughs blasted the first grand slam in Rangers history.9 His two additional slams over the next nine days tied a major-league record of three within a 10-day span. A 1-for-18 skid at the end of August did not deter the first full year player from challenging future Hall of Famer Reggie Jackson for the American League home-run crown. Remarkably, the consensus of coaches and managers (Herzog was replaced late in the season) was that the swirling right-field winds in Arlington robbed Burroughs of an additional 14 to 16 homers. Though he soon grew out of it, in 1973 Burroughs became known as much for helmet-throwing tantrums as immense power. “Those long power alleys and the wind make it almost impossible at home,” Burroughs complained.10 “I’d better not get my hands on any dynamite because I’ll blow this park into the next state.”11 During the offseason the Rangers tried to remedy the situation by moving the fences 10 feet closer. They fended off numerous trade queries for the bespectacled slugger, including an aggressive and lengthy pursuit by Boston. Local news media and radio-television personnel dubbed Burroughs the club’s outstanding player, while new manager Billy Martin identified him as untouchable.

In 1974 Burroughs was one of the last to report to spring training. Newly fitted with contact lenses, he flew to Bob Short’s Minneapolis home and negotiated a hefty raise. When Burroughs arrived in Florida he continued his offensive onslaught with a Grapefruit League campaign of .339-6-23.12 Four games into the regular season, he added another grand slam to his growing résumé. In May Burroughs scorched opposing pitchers at a .352 pace, with particular relish against Chicago (.467-5-24 versus White Sox hurlers for the season). Beginning May 12, he drove in at least one run in 10 consecutive games.

Unwanted attention arrived on June 4 in Cleveland during a 10-cent-beer promotion. In the ninth inning of a knotted contest two inebriated young men ran onto the field intent on capturing Burroughs’ cap. A scuffle occurred, prompting the ever-excitable Billy Martin to lead his charges out of the dugout in defense of the right fielder. The move only exacerbated the situation as more fans spilled onto the field. The ensuing riot resulted in a forfeit by the Indians, with Burroughs sustaining a jammed thumb in the brawl. Though he never used it as an excuse, the injury likely contributed to a .157 average in his next 51 at-bats. (He’d entered the game among the league leaders at .332.)

A late All-Star balloting surge earned Burroughs a left-field starting berth in the midsummer classic. Before the July 23 tilt Burroughs, mired in a mild slump, requested time off. The rest proved beneficial when the re-energized slugger collected 65 hits in his final 196 at-bats (.332). Surprisingly, the home runs tailed off, with Burroughs hitting his last four-bagger on August 21 (the recurring back problems a contributing factor). He paced the franchise to only its second winning season, leading the league in RBIs (118) while placing among the leaders in homers (25) and average (.301). With reference to the postseason awards, Reggie Jackson, the league’s reigning MVP, admitted, “I don’t mind saying that Jeff Burroughs would get my vote if I had one.”13 Apparently the Baseball Writers’ Association of America took notice as Burroughs, the only player named on all 24 ballots, outpaced three members of the World Series champion Oakland Athletics to earn the award for Most Valuable Player (becoming the first Texas player from either league to be named MVP).

An early-spring slump doomed the high-flying club’s pennant aspirations in 1974. The Rangers looked to overcome such barriers in 1975. Burroughs’ .310-4-13 line through April contributed to this goal. The Rangers captured sole possession of first place on May 22 only to suffer a slide of 1-7 through the rest of the month. The next two months continued to prove disastrous as the club fell out of contention. Mired in a 5-for-59 slump beginning June 10, Burroughs received an inordinate amount of blame for the collapse from aggrieved fans and feuding teammates. Having previously demonstrated a proclivity for striking out, Burroughs led the league with 155 K’s in 1975 (eighth in Rangers history through 2017). “I wanted to pull the ball more … [to] hit more homers,” Burroughs explained. “You get into some bad habits and, before you know it, you’ve gone so far you can’t correct them. I was dipping my right shoulder, getting too much of an uppercut on my swing.”14 Though he finished with strong power numbers (29 homers, 94 RBIs), the athlete who prided himself as an all-around player finished the season with a .226 average.

The next year proved remarkably similar for both player and team. The Rangers’ fast start to the 1976 season cooled to midseason malaise as the club tumbled out of contention. Meanwhile Burroughs struggled to get above .229 from June through August. He ignored the many rumors of a pending trade, confident that the three-year contract extension he signed in March contained a no-trade clause. Having purchased a home in Arlington, the 26-year-old was both surprised and upset when the Rangers traded him to the Atlanta Braves on December 9 for five players and $250,000.

The Rangers reportedly received a vast number of offers for Burroughs, including trades for some of the most heralded pitchers in baseball: Yankees relief ace Sparky Lyle and future Hall of Famer Rich Gossage. The deal appears to have turned on the close relationship between Braves general manager Bill Lucas and his former boss, Rangers newly hired vice president Eddie Robinson (who vehemently denied the presence of a no-trade clause in the right-handed slugger’s contract). When Burroughs recovered from the initial shock, he quickly realized the benefits derived from home games played in a stadium dubbed “The Launching Pad.” In January he negotiated a three-year extension with the Braves that ensured a no-trade provision.

Over the next two years the Braves/Burroughs union proved a perfect match. In 1977 the slugger blasted nearly one-third of the Braves’ home-run yield with a career-high 41 homers. Burroughs earned his second All-Star berth while becoming only the seventh major leaguer to hit 30 or more four-baggers in both leagues, and only the fourth to hit 40 or more in his first year after switching leagues. Tired of surrendering the long ball, pitchers quit throwing to Burroughs in 1978. That season he led the majors with 117 walks and a .432 on-base percentage. In both years Burroughs gained MVP consideration playing for the last-place club. He signed another three-year extension before the start of the 1979 campaign.

Sans the power, 1979 was largely a repeat performance of Burroughs’ 1975 season when a promising start yielded to a 17-for-99 run through June 1. Manager Bobby Cox personally directed extra batting practice for Burroughs following a similar dip in July (.192 in 78 at-bats). The situation worsened in August when Burroughs’ back problems resurfaced. Despite the no-trade clause the Braves hoped to secure Burroughs’ approval for a pending swap. Anticipating an offseason departure, Burroughs received just one pinch-hit appearance in September as the team turned increasingly to Barry Bonnell in left field.

But the Braves miscalculated when Burroughs vetoed a trade that would have returned him to the Rangers. (The December 6 deal went through without him.) Burroughs’ decision was a risky one: One day earlier the Braves had secured Chris Chambliss and were preparing to move first baseman Dale Murphy to the outfield. Anticipating the full-time role of prospect Eddie Miller in center, Cox and new general manager John Mullen publicly announced that Burroughs would be relegated to a reserve role. “It’s like blackmail,” Burroughs complained. “They’re saying, ‘If you don’t okay this trade, we won’t play you.’ It’s preposterous.”15

Miller’s dismal start to the 1980 campaign prompted Cox to move Murphy to center and reinsert Burroughs in left. A 9-for-15 surge beginning April 24 briefly hoisted his average above .400 and hinted at a return to past glory (though he did not connect for a homer until June 19). On June 6 he foiled another no-hit bid with a seventh-inning double off Los Angeles Dodgers lefty Jerry Reuss. In July, as the upstart Braves moved to within 7½ games of first place following a 9-2 run, Burroughs played a pivotal role.

But when he began slipping in August, Cox – citing a desire to add more speed to the lineup – was quick to bench Burroughs. He made just 20 pinch-hit appearances (including two game-winning homers) over the season’s final 52 games. Forced to acknowledge that he was not part of Cox’s plans for the future, Burroughs submitted a list of eight teams he would accept a move to. Though the Mariners were not listed, the embittered slugger eagerly consented to a move to Seattle simply to get out of Atlanta. Unable to resist some parting shots, Burroughs said, “It was as if [Cox] was trying to run me out of baseball. He’s been demeaning me and embarrassing me for three years. … The front office treat[s players] like we’re wanted criminals.”16 The deal was held up for weeks pending resolution of a $400,000 loan Burroughs received from Braves owner Ted Turner.

In the strike-shortened 1981 season the right fielder once again received steady playing time and placed among the Mariners’ leaders in most offensive categories. On August 14, 1981, Burroughs became the first player in the Mariners’ short history to hit three homers in one game. He filed for free agency after the season but was one of many not selected in the re-entry draft (an early hint of owner collusion). Burroughs rejected offers from the Rangers and Mariners (the latter he deemed very insulting) and was eventually invited to Oakland’s spring camp by Athletics manager Billy Martin.

Martin beamed after his former protégé signed with the club: “[Burroughs] comes to the park early, he runs, takes extra hitting. He works harder than anybody.”17 Burroughs spent the next three years in Oakland. In 1982 he set an Athletics single-season record with 11 pinch-hits, and was on the verge of shattering the American League record for pinch-hit homers when he was moved into the starting lineup. A year later the entire team escaped a near-death experience when their charter plane nearly collided with a smaller plane in-flight. But the most memorable (and humorous) occurrence came on April 8, 1984, when Martin’s replacement, Steve Boros, tapped the less-than-speedy Burroughs as a pinch-runner: “I loved the look on his face when I told him he was pinch-running,” Boros laughed. “Shock.”18

On December 22, 1984, Burroughs was sold to Toronto, where he was roundly welcomed by Blue Jays manager Bobby Cox. In his first spring training at-bat in a Toronto uniform Burroughs hit a two-run homer against future Hall of Famer Tom Seaver. Among a roster of veteran players Burroughs earned the bulk of the DH responsibilities in leading the 1985 Blue Jays to their first playoff venture. When veteran slugger Cliff Johnson was acquired in August and speculation arose that Burroughs might be released, Cox rose to his defense: “He’s never had the chance to be in the playoffs or World Series, he’s been with us all year, and I refuse to do that to him. If winning means doing such things to people like Jeff Burroughs, winning isn’t worth it.”19 In the ninth inning of Game Seven of the ALCS, Burroughs made his only postseason appearance: a pinch-hit groundout to the pitcher. It proved to be his last major-league appearance. When he retired, only infielder Toby Harrah survived as the last active player who had worn a Washington Senators uniform.

Burroughs once remarked, “I’m a pretty good ballplayer. Not a great player, but a good one. I swing a good bat, and I can drive in runs. I’m an average fielder with an average arm.”20 In spite of this modest self-assessment, Burroughs concluded a robust 16-year major-league career with a .261-240-882 line in 5,536 at-bats. Along the way he earned two All-Star berths and was the runaway selection for the 1974 AL MVP award.

Burroughs married Rhode Island native Deborah Gorman in 1977. He returned to his Long Beach roots, where they raised a family. Burroughs was an avid reader and saltwater fisherman but had a particular passion for golf. Though he never took lessons, Burroughs was an extraordinary player. In winters throughout his career he played in some of the largest tournaments (example: the Bing Crosby National Pro-Am) alongside some of sports’ biggest names: Willie Mays, Joe DiMaggio, Joe Namath, and Johnny Unitas.

But baseball never strayed far from the former slugger. In 1992 he led sons Scott Alan and Sean Patrick to the Little League World Series in Williamsport, Pennsylvania. Though they lost to the Philippines entry, it was later determined that the Far East team had violated age and residency rules. The Long Beach team was awarded the title World Champions. The next year the Burroughs trio helped Long Beach to a 3-2 win over a Panama entry to become the only repeat champions in Little League World Series history. In the mid-1990s Burroughs attained additional success as a manager in the independent Western Baseball League. The family stood proudly when second son Sean, drafted by the San Diego Padres in the first round of the 1998 amateur draft, was tabbed as “the franchise’s best hitting prospect since [future Hall of Famer] Tony Gwynn.”21

Despite this success Burroughs always remained grounded. A glimpse into his outlook on life was seen in quotes shortly after he won the American League Most Valuable Player Award: “The people who know me best, like my friends in Long Beach, aren’t influenced by awards or anything like that. And those are the people I’m around the most away from baseball. Success does have a tendency to change some people, and usually for the worst. But it’s not going to happen to me.”22

This article was published in “The Team That Couldn’t Hit: The 1972 Texas Rangers” (SABR, 2019), edited by Steve West and Bill Nowlin.

Sources

In addition to the sources cited in the Notes, the author also consulted Baseball-reference.com and Ancestry.com.

Notes

1 Frank Haraway, “A Teen-Age Swat Terror: Denver’s Jeff Burroughs,” The Sporting News, June 20, 1970: 37.

2 C.C. Johnson Spink, “Marshall, Hunter, Brock, Burroughs Saluted,” The Sporting News, November 2, 1974: 3.

3 One source indicates a wedding before the move west, a possible scenario since the bride, of Norwegian ancestry, was a native of neighboring South Dakota.

4 Jack Lang, “’Quit Tampering’ – Kuhn’s Warning During Draft,” The Sporting News, June 21, 1969: 5.

5 Varying reports reflect a low of $80,000, a high of $100,000.

6 Merrell Whittlesey, “Ted Warned Houk of Burroughs’ Power Bat,” The Sporting News, March 14, 1970: 26.

7 Short hoped to boost Washington’s lagging attendance.

8 Randy Galloway, “Herzog Seeking ‘Ballplayers, Not Boy Scouts,’” The Sporting News, December 23, 1972: 46.

9 The blast was the franchise’s first grand slam in three years.

10 Merle Heryford, “Home Runs Just Come Naturally for Burroughs,” The Sporting News, August 18, 1973: 20.

11 Randy Galloway, “Wind Shrivels Rangers’ Homer Crop,” The Sporting News, September 8, 1973: 4.

12 The six home runs are believed to be a Rangers spring-training record (tied by Pete Incaviglia in 1986). They included two grand slams against the New York Yankees.

13 “A.L. Flashes,” The Sporting News, September 28, 1974: 31.

14 Randy Galloway, “Burroughs to Stop Thinking of Homers,” The Sporting News, April 10, 1976: 30.

15 Ken Picking, “Burroughs Swings Brickbat at Braves,” The Sporting News, February 23, 1980: 30.

16 Ken Picking, “’Treated Like Criminal,’ Says Ex-Brave Burroughs,” The Sporting News, January 3, 1981, 44.

17 Kit Stier, “Burroughs Repays A’s by Staying Fit,” The Sporting News, August 23, 1982: 29.

18 Stan Isle, “Boros’ Move Raises Eyebrows,” The Sporting News, April 23, 1984: 22; a year later Burroughs amused both teammates and fans by sliding into third base a couple of feet from the bag.

19 Peter Gammons, “Jays Have Injury Factor for 2nd Season,” The Sporting News, October 7, 1985: 25.

20 Wayne Minshew, “Braves Placate Burroughs With No-Trade Pact,” The Sporting News, January 29, 1977: 36.

21 Tom Krasovic, “San Diego: Prospects Analysis,” The Sporting News, February 7, 2000: 42.

22 Randy Galloway, “Complacency No. 1 Enemy to Jeff the Ranger,” The Sporting News, April 19, 1975: 11.

The New Bedford, Massachusetts, area is home to one of the largest Portuguese-American communities in the United States. Known as the Whaling City due to its pre-eminence as a whaling port during the nineteenth century, New Bedford attracted many immigrants from Portugal and its dependent territories to work in the whaling industry and later to the textile mills. In the early 1900s cotton weaving became a very vibrant industry in New Bedford and nearby Fall River as whaling declined. These American cotton mills grew so large as to become an economic threat on the world market to the long-established British cotton mills of Manchester and others in Lancashire county, England.

In 1916 Jose Camacho, born of Portuguese parents in British Guiana (now an independent nation, Guyana, in South America), came to settle in New Bedford to find work in its cotton mills. In New Bedford he married Augusta Piedade, whose ancestry stemmed from Madeira, a Portuguese possession off the African coast. On May 29, 1928, their son Joseph Gomes Camacho was born. As Joseph grew up in New Bedford, it was not whales or cotton that attracted his focus and energy but baseball.

As a professional baseball player, Camacho never advanced beyond Double-A, achieving far more success as an educator. Yet, from a business association with one of baseball greatest hitters, Ted Williams, he later tasted life in the Big Leagues as a bench coach. From that relationship grew a lifelong friendship between the Hall of Famer and the Camacho family.

As a 15-year-old sophomore at New Bedford High School, Joe attended a local tryout camp of the Philadelphia Athletics in 1944. Believing he made a good impression he had reason to believe a baseball career awaited. His father insisted he delay his dream until after graduating from high school, so Joe completed his high-school baseball career. In his last two games he pitched a 13-inning 4-3 victory, and then a no-hitter. After graduating from high school, Camacho worked in the local mills and played baseball in 1946 and 1947 in the Twilight League, a semipro circuit of teams sponsored by area mills. Major-league scouts often frequented these games. In 1948 Camacho, then 20 years old, signed a contract with the St. Louis Browns and was assigned to the Belleville Stags of the Class-D Illinois State League, where one of his teammates was 17-year-old pitcher Bob Turley, who in later years contributed to several New York Yankees pennants. Camacho put together a decent year while playing second base and shortstop, hitting .259 with two home runs in 118 games. Promoted to Globe-Miami of the Class C Arizona-Texas League, he became a teammate of another pitcher who became a Yankee legend, 19-year-old Don Larsen. After playing in 38 games, Camacho suffered a broken ankle in a collision at home plate, and the Browns released him. After recovering he signed with Ogdensburg (New York) of the Class-C Border League and hit .304 with three home runs in 43 games. He returned to Ogdensburg in 1950 and enjoyed his best professional season, hitting .311 in 117 games with 22 doubles, 3 triples, and 10 home runs. After the season he married his high-school sweetheart, Patricia Margaret Carey.

Camacho’s baseball career was interrupted when he was drafted into the US Army during the Korean War. Camacho was able to play baseball while stationed in Germany and earned the MVP award in a service tournament called the G.I. World Series.

Resuming his professional career in 1953, Camacho signed with the Cleveland Indians, who sent him to the Fargo-Moorhead Twins of the Class-C Northern League. At the age of 25, Camacho was one of the elder statesmen on a young, dominating (86-39) team that included 18-year-old Roger Maras. Camacho batted .296 with 35 doubles, 7 triples, and 11 home runs. During the season, he and Maras became close friends. This friendship continued as they were teammates while moving up the Indians farm system and rooming together at local YMCAs. Maras, who later changed the spelling of his last name to “Maris,” gained fame in 1961 as the first player to hit 61 homers in a season.

Camacho reached Double-A Mobile (Southern Association) in 1957, batting .238 in 50 games. At the age of 29, it was obvious to him that he was never to get that shot at the big leagues. Typecast as a career minor leaguer at 29 years old, missing his family, which now included a young son, Michael (born in 1954)1, he concluded that it was time to move on to another career, and retired as a player.

After getting out of the Army in 1953, Camacho had enrolled at Bridgewater (Massachusetts) State College under the GI Bill. Continuing his studies, he earned a bachelor’s degree in 1959 and a master’s degree in education in 1961. He became an elementary-school teacher and eventually the principal of his boyhood elementary school, the Sarah D. Ottiwell School in New Bedford. A second son, James, born in 1958, helped further transform his life from that of the vagabond, grinding through a long baseball season, into a contented and happy full-time husband, father, and teacher. However, baseball was still to find a place in his life.

In 1963 Camacho was hired as the baseball director at the Ted Williams Baseball Camp in nearby Lakeville, Massachusetts. The job at the baseball camp led him, if only for a short time, back into professional baseball. Camacho later recalled, “The camp would run in the summer only. School would end about the middle of June and the camp would start, lasting about 8 to 10 weeks. The kids were from 8 to 18 and came to the camp from all over the country. We were able to bring our families and children. Ted was naturally very involved and, and as always, full of enthusiasm. We became friends and up until his death we would talk quite a bit, at least once a week.”2 Joe considered Ted a friend and was unaware this friendship would bring him back into professional baseball and even into the major leagues, not as a player as he once dreamed but as a coach.

According to Gordon Edes, then a Boston Globe sportswriter, “When Ted Williams was named manager of the Washington Senators before the 1969 season, one of the first calls he made was to former teammate Johnny Pesky. ‘I was doing radio and TV for the Red Sox,’ Pesky said. ‘A week earlier, I would have been with Ted. My wife Ruthie and her mother were in the kitchen when he called. He said, ‘I need you. Can you come down?’ I wanted to do it and break my contract but the general manager said it was too late. They had me reading the football scores in the winter to work on my voice, and they had done all this PR stuff for me.”3

When Pesky turned Ted Williams down, Williams asked Camacho, still an elementary-school principal, to become his bench coach. The minor-league player who never made it to the majors resigned his position at the school and joined the Senators’ coaching staff. Of this turn of events, Camacho commented, “All minor leaguers feel they should have been big leaguers, but I didn’t make it into the big leagues. I made it as a coach under Ted. He must have felt that I knew what I was doing.”4

The Camacho family plan for the summer of 1969 was for parents and sons to spend eight weeks in Lisbon as part of a Portuguese cultural exchange program. However, the chance to return to professional baseball in the major leagues, to work more closely with his friend Ted Williams, and the promise of becoming the farm director of the Washington Senators when Williams moved up to be team president after five years of coaching proved to be too much to turn down. Camacho became one of the first coaches to be called a bench coach. To claims that he was the first, some baseball historians cite Pete Reiser serving as Walt Alston’s “bench-riding coach” in 1962 and Christy Mathewson serving John McGraw of the New York Giants in the 1919-21 seasons as his “assistant manager.”5 Without dispute, however, is that Camacho served Ted Williams in the same manner as all of the current bench coaches, while Reiser and Matheson held positions that only resembled the present concept of that coaching position. Before 1969 no team had such a position on its coaching staff. Now they all do.

Camacho brought a special desire and understanding to the coaching ranks that was unique to him. His minor-league experience, his association with the Ted Williams Baseball Camp, and his work as an educator combined to make him a valuable resource as well as a positive example for young players in the Senators farm system. One of them was Bill Madlock, a four-time batting champion in the National League. When he was honored in January of 1980 at a Hot Stove League dinner in Boston, Madlock made a point to bring Camacho along just to say thanks for how much Joe had meant to his career.

In 1969, Camacho’s first year with the Senators, the team got off to a promising start, finishing fourth in the AL East with a record of 86-76. But it was the only winning season in the expansion Senators’ history. The next season, 1970, was a step backward as the Senators fell to last place in the AL East with a 70-92 record. Camacho became convinced that the owner, Bob Short, wanted out of Washington. “For some reason Short wanted to get out of there and that Denny McLain trade was one of the worst things that happened to the club,” Camacho said. “Certainly Ted didn’t want that trade. We gave up Joe Coleman, Aurelio Rodriguez, Eddie Brinkman, and they ended up in Detroit winning the pennant (1972) with Billy Martin.”6 In 1971 the Senators won only 63 games and lost 96. They were spared the indignity of a last-place finish by the Cleveland Indians (60-102). Camacho, believing that some of the players on the club had “mailed it in” and undermined all that Ted Williams brought to the club, later said, “Probably the ringleader of what I called the ‘underminers club’ was Denny McLain. Consider the source. He was a hell of a pitcher at one time but he’s been in trouble all his life. He’s done everything. I haven’t heard anybody speak poorly of Ted, as manager.”7

Camacho’s suspicions were not paranoia when you consider the deteriorating financial position of Bob Short, principal owner of the franchise, in 1970. Clearly the mood from the top down appeared to be “do anything that will get us out of this situation!” Affirming this, Eric Nadel, in his authorized history of the Texas Rangers, noted, “By the end of the 1970 season, Short was struggling financially and was under pressure to relocate from other team owners, who earned little money from their share of the meager gate receipts when their team played at RFK Stadium. Well aware of Short’s predicament was the mayor of Arlington, Texas, Tom Vandergriff.”8

So it came to pass, Joe Camacho followed his friend and manager, Ted Williams to Texas in 1972. But it was only to watch the team continue its slide in 1972. With a record of 54-100,9 they occupied sixth and last place in the newly structured AL West, 38½ games out of first.10 In four years the team had seen its win total shrink from 86 to 70 to 63 to 54. Camacho to the end was loyal to Williams. “It’s easy for sports people to say great players don’t make great managers – well, there are extenuating circumstances in everything, you know,” Camacho said. “If you have good ballplayers – Casey Stengel, he was with the old Boston Braves and the New York Mets. When he was with the Yankees, they won everything.”11

After the 1972 season, Ted Williams resigned. Camacho, weighed heavily by the three consecutive years of losing seasons, each worse than the last, was very happy to return to his family and the familiar surroundings of New Bedford. Ted returned to his beloved fishing. Joe Camacho, finding a job as principal of the Elwyn G. Campbell Elementary School available for the 1973 school year, returned to education in New Bedford. He held the position until he retired in 1986.

In an interview in 1997, Camacho summarized his experience with the Senators/Rangers. “The owners wanted to get out of there, and we had a good year the first year or so, but then (Short) made a few bad trades and moved to Texas, and that was the end of everything. I’m retired now. I’ve been a widower12 since 13 years, I have a boy at home so I cook and take care of him. My mother-in-law, she’s 85 years old and she is in a nursing home so we visit her daily.”13

As of early 2016, Joe, experiencing some ill health in his later years, resided in a nursing home in Fairhaven, Massachusetts, just across the Acushnet River from New Bedford. His oldest son, Michael, a widower since 2001, has four grown stepchildren and resided in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. James, his youngest son, worked as a supervisor for the Massachusetts Office of the State Auditor, residing near Joe in Fairhaven at the family residence, looking after the affairs and well-being of his father.

This biography was published in “1972 Texas Rangers: The Team that Couldn’t Hit” (SABR, 2019), edited by Steve West and Bill Nowlin.

Sources:

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

The Baseball Encyclopedia, ninth edition (New York: Macmillan, 1993).

Baseball-Reference.com.

Thomas, Buddy. “Looking Back: Joe Camacho’s Big Finale,” New Bedford Standard-Times, August 31, 2004.

Thomas, Buddy. “A Closer Look at the Legend of Joe Camacho,” New Bedford Standard-Times, November 13, 2014.

The author is also grateful for a telephone interview with Joe’s son, James Camacho, on January 4, 2016, and email correspondence from January 4-12, 2016.

Notes

1 Michael was a very good high school baseball player as well as a star in basketball and football. In 2008 he was inducted into the Fairhaven High School Hall of Fame. In 2003, Michael became a pro-golfer and now is working as a club repair expert for Golfsmith.

2 Interview with Joe Camacho by Bill Nowlin, May 21, 1997.

3 Gordon Edes, “Bench Coaches: More than Just a Job,” Baseball Digest, July 1, 2008.

4 James Camacho interview.

5 Stuart Miller, “Next to the Manager, but a Bit Ahead,” New York Times, August 18, 2012.

6 James Camacho interview.

7 James Camacho interview.

8 Eric Nadel, Texas Rangers: The Authorized History (Dallas: Taylor Publishing Company, 1997), 51.

9 A players strike at the start of the season canceled the first eight games of the 162-game schedule.

10 The American League was restructured to accommodate the geography of the club’s move to Texas from Washington. The Milwaukee Brewers were moved to the AL East and the Rangers placed in the AL West.

11 Interview with Joe Camacho by Bill Nowlin, May 21, 1997.

12 Joe’s wife, Patricia, died at age 54 from breast and lymphatic cancer.

13 Interview with Joe Camacho by Bill Nowlin, May 21, 1997.

Cox was not known for his hitting but in the fourth inning he laid down a perfect bunt to score catcher Jim French from third. The next day, Cox’s teammates presented him with a bright red batting glove.1

But it was Cox’s pitching that drew the real plaudits from his batterymate. “Casey has never been better,” French said. “That was the best sinker he has ever had. After pitching four innings in Boston Saturday night, he was just tired enough to have his sinker working to perfection.”2

The win was Cox’s sixth of the season and dropped his ERA to a stunning 1.88.

The 1969 Senators went on to win 86 games and finish in fourth place in the AL East. The wins were their most since they began as an expansion team in 1961, and the most of any Washington team since 1945. Toward the end of the season, manager Ted Williams called Cox one of his team’s two best pitchers (along with 14-game-winner Dick Bosman).3 Cox, in his fourth season with the Senators, had arrived, posting a 12-7 record with a 2.78 ERA. The Alexandria Club of Grandstand Managers concurred with Williams, presenting Cox with a silver service set at the end of the season.4

In 1972 Cox traveled with the Senators as they became the Texas Rangers. It was his 10th stop in a professional career that had begun in 1962.

Joseph Casey Cox entered the world on July 3, 1941, in Long Beach, California. His parents were Joseph Casey Cox and Esther Cox. (Casey was named for his grandfathers, and was called Casey from an early age to avoid being confused with his father.) Casey’s younger sister, Ann Louise, became a noted cell behavioral research scientist.

Cox’s father, an accountant, wasted no time in introducing his son to baseball and by the time young Casey was 8, they were determined that young Casey would become a major-league ballplayer, just like Casey’s hero, Bob Lemon. Casey starred in baseball and basketball at Woodrow Wilson High School (Class of 1959), went to Long Beach City College for two years, then to Los Angeles State College in 1961. He pitched one season at LA State, and impressed scouts when he struck out 17 Arizona Wildcats in one outing.5

Cox was signed in June 1962 by scout Al Zarilla of the Cincinnati Reds for a bonus of $9,000, with an additional $8,000 to come if Cox made it to the majors. Given a choice of three minor-league destinations, he chose Rocky Mount of the Class B Carolina League. In his first appearance, on June 17, he took a no-hitter into the sixth inning against Burlington, and allowed only one run and three hits in eight innings. But Rocky Mount lost, 3-0.6 In his second start, on June 24, he earned his first professional win, needing only 90 pitches for a 7-1 complete-game victory over Winston-Salem.7 But despite those two gems, first-year losses outnumbered wins: 4-8 with a 4.37 ERA. Cox went to the Florida Instructional League after the season. On November 26 he was claimed by the Cleveland Indians in the annual draft of first-year minor-league players.

Cox began the 1963 season with Charleston, West Virginia, in the Double-A Eastern League, going 0-2 before being sent to Burlington of the Carolina League on May 9. Three weeks later he was sold to the Senators to make room for Early Wynn, who signed with the Indians to try to hit the 300-win mark. The Senators assigned Cox to their Peninsula farm club, making it three Carolina League teams in less than 12 months. With Peninsula, he went 9-10 with an ERA of 3.37 in 31 games.

In 1964 Washington changed its Carolina League affiliation to Rocky Mount, and Cox was back where he started. He got off to a great start, and as late as June 21, his ERA was 1.59. In his first 64 appearances, he had an ERA of 2.48, third best in the league. He tailed off in his last five appearances, but was the workhorse of the bullpen. Pitching in a league-high 69 games (only three starts), his 185 innings were third best in the league and tops among relievers. He went 9-10 with a 3.16 ERA for a team that finished at 61-77.

Cox began the 1965 season in Hawaii in the Triple-A Pacific Coast League, but after nine appearances during which his ERA stood at 5.40, he was reassigned to York, Pennsylvania in the Double-A Eastern League. Appearing in 61 games, all but one in relief, he was able to put together a 9-2 record with a 2.03 ERA. Working with roving pitching instructor Sid Hudson,8 he was among the league leaders in ERA all season and posted a 9-2 record. Cox had hoped to be called up to the Senators at the end of the season, but went home disappointed.

“There was nothing else I ever wanted to do but get to the big leagues. Boy, this big-league life is it. It’s the only way to live.”9 And in 1966 he would get to the big leagues for the first time, at age 24 with a competitive zeal that was commented on during spring training by pitching coach Rube Walker: “He has a lot of determination for a rookie. He has a lot of spirit and we’re taking a long look at him.”10 Cox also impressed manager Gil Hodges with his coolness under fire. Hodges said, “Cox has shown real poise. … A couple of years ago, he was a dart-thrower. Now, he’s a pitcher.”11

Cox made his major-league debut on April 15, 1966. Recalling his debut close to 50 years later, he remembered that he was so nervous that “you couldn’t shove a pin up my ass with a jackhammer.” His first pitch went only 45 feet. He collected himself and went on to hurl two hitless innings in a Washington loss at Detroit. When he struck out the last batter he faced, Al Kaline, he had his first career strikeout. “I threw him a fastball and a slider for strikes. Then I tried to cut it too fine but missed and a low changeup made it 3-and-2. I got him with a low and away fastball.”12 Eight days later he picked up his first save, getting the last five outs, including a strikeout of Willie Horton for the final out, in a 5-3 Senators win over the Tigers. The Senators kept Cox busy. He pitched in 21 of his team’s first 41 games, and the team was enjoying the dizzying heights of the first division. By June 2 Cox had five saves and his ERA was 2.87. The team had risen to fifth place and was within seven games of the league lead. As the season wore on, the Senators faded. Cox wound up appearing in a team-leading 66 games, compiling a 4-5 record with seven saves and a 3.50 ERA.

Sometimes a ballplayer learns a lesson from adversity and on July 19, 1966, a circumstance arose that almost 50 years later, Cox was still able to remember. He had earlier told the story to Merrell Whittlesey in 1971. “We were playing the Twins and Harmon Killebrew beat me with a hit with two out in the ninth inning (it was actually the eighth inning). The next day Hodges casually asked me how much money I thought Killebrew made, and at the time it was about $75,000, or that was my guess. I forget who the next batter was – it wasn’t Tony Oliva – and he asked me how much I thought that fellow (Earl Battey) made, and I guessed $25,000. Gil told me that there must be some reason that Killebrew made $75,000 and the next hitter made $25,000, and to keep that in mind the next time I faced a big star with just an average hitter next up. I’ve never forgotten it, and you’d be surprised how much that has helped.”13

Cox spent part of the winter pitching for the Licey Tigers in the Dominican League. His stay was cut short after an altercation on November 15 between Cox and some disapproving fans. He reacted to their taunts by making an “offensive gesture”14 toward the stands. Cox was jailed, fined $50, and suspended for a week.15 The gesture had resulted in several fans advancing toward the field. One of the fans made it as far as the dugout, and the police spent the balance of the game protecting Cox. The next day he headed home.16 His season in the Caribbean was over.17

As the 1967 season approached, an optimistic Cox exclaimed, “There’s something in the air in this (spring-training) camp. It’s like a lot of young guys getting together and having pride.”18 But once the season started, Cox appeared in only six of his team’s first 23 games, pitching only eight innings with no decisions. He was sent to Honolulu at roster cutdown time in May. After pitching in 14 games in less than a month, Cox was summoned back to Washington on June 7 and was used regularly the rest of the season. In 54 games he had a 7-4 record and a 2.96 ERA. The Senators finished the season in a sixth-place tie, 15½ games out of first place.

In 1968 Jim Lemon replaced Gil Hodges as manager and inherited a strong bullpen. The six top relievers had chalked up 310 relief appearances in 1967, but Cox would not be a factor with the Senators in 1968. Toward the end of spring training, he was assigned to Buffalo of the International League, where he went 7-5. It was not a happy time for Cox, who was unable to escape the futility of being stuck in the minors hoping for a call-up that never came. After the minor-league season ended, Cox was recalled to Washington and got into four games with the Senators.

During the offseason, the Senators acquired a new owner, Bob Short. Cox was philosophical about the change: “I hope they have a place for me. I can see this man (Short) means business, and I’d like to be part of it.”19

Cox made the 1969 team out of spring training and had an early-season highlight on April 26 against Cleveland. He entered the game with one out in the first inning, relieving Barry Moore, who had walked four consecutive batters with one out. Cox induced Cleveland’s Max Alvis to hit a comebacker that Cox turned into a 1-2-3 double play. Cox remained in the game and scattered six hits over the remaining eight innings as the Senators won, 8-1. “They told me not to be a hero, just go as far as I could. After seven or eight innings, I still felt good,” he said.20 Manager Ted Williams kept telling Cox not to be a “hero,” and to tell him if he was tiring. Cox said, “I felt better in the last three innings, though, than in the middle three.”21 At bat he reached first base for the first time in his career, walking in the fourth inning. In the seventh inning he had his first career RBI when Jack Hamilton walked him with the bases loaded.

But Cox had yet to get his first major-league hit and took a fair amount of kidding. When he asked to borrow a bat from Hank Allen, the outfielder was a bit apprehensive. One of the players on the bench said, “Give it to him. He could use it for 100 years and never hurt it.”22

Manager Williams, a fair student of hitting, was more interested in Cox being a success on the mound. One particularly memorable experience was a game against the Twins on June 8. The Twins used seven pitchers and Cox was the last of the five pitchers used by the Senators. The game went into extra innings tied 5-5. Cox entered the game in the bottom of the 11th inning. Two hits and an intentional walk loaded the bases, bringing up Cox’s old nemesis Harmon Killebrew, who already had doubled and homered. The count went to 3-and-2. Walking Killebrew was not an option. Cox threw a low fastball that eluded the swinging bat of Killebrew. Del Unser’s two-run homer in the 12th inning gave the Senators a lead and Cox retired the Twins in bottom of the inning to secure his fourth win of the season.

“Fortunately, playing for Ted Williams has helped me to gain the confidence and concentration that a pitcher needs in a situation like that,” Cox said. “In other years, I might have beaten myself in a comparable situation. But I was thinking positive, to get the ball over. It was a big pitch. I’ll never forget it.” He noted the three keys to his success – Confidence, Concentration, and Control.23

There was a shortage of starting pitchers on the 1969 Senators and Williams on June 23 began using Cox as a spot starter. In his first start, Cox pitched 5⅓ innings of scoreless ball at Baltimore, and was in line for the win. However, the bullpen let him down and the Orioles came back to win, 5-3. On July 1 Cox threw his first career complete game, as Washington defeated Cleveland, 4-1. In 13 starts, Cox went 5-4. His record in relief was 7-3.

Between his long relief stints and occasional starting roles, Cox was getting to swing the bat more often, but his average remained at .000 (0-for-32) on July 17. On that day Cox started against the Tigers and singled off Earl Wilson in the third and fifth innings. The line drive to right in the third inning resulted in a standing ovation.24 But the Senators’ bats were cold, and Cox, who went into the game with a five-game winning streak, did not have his best stuff, surrendering a three-run homer to Willie Horton in the first inning. Cox was removed for a pinch-hitter in the seventh inning with the Senators trailing 3-1. Washington lost, 4-3, and Cox was charged with his second loss of the season, but he finally had his first major-league hits. He ended the season with five hits and a .106 batting average. He got only 10 more hits in the major leagues, and his career batting average was a dismal .099 (15-for-151).

Hitting aside, 1969 was a breakout season for Cox. He was 12-7 with a 2.78 ERA as the Senators went 86-76 under the stewardship of first-year manager Williams. The 1970 season couldn’t come soon enough, and Williams promised Cox a new set of golf clubs if he got 12 hits during 1970.25

Cox got even more chances at the plate in 1970, starting 30 games. In his first three starts he yielded 12 runs in 21 innings for a gaudy 4.29 ERA. However, he had some offensive help and came away with three wins. He recognized his good fortune, saying, “There are some pitchers who get runs scored for them, and none of those pitchers ever gives them back.”26

Cox stayed in the rotation for most of the season and went 8-12 with a 4.45 ERA, pitching a career high 192⅓ innings. His failure to replicate the success of 1969 was caused in part by his failure to keep the ball in the park. He gave up more homers (27) than anyone else on the Washington staff. From July 9 through August 31, Cox gave up at least one homer in each of 11 consecutive starts. His only complete game of the season, a 9-3 win over Cleveland on July 9, broke a string of 30 games in which Senators pitchers failed to complete what they started.27 Williams did not have to spring for the golf clubs; Cox had only seven hits during the season. The team lost its last 14 games of the season to finish in last place at 70-92.

After the season Cox ventured to La Guaira, Venezuela, to play winter ball and worked on his curveball, winning three of six decisions. After the disappointing 1970 season in Washington, he expected that 1971 would be different. “I believe that (in spring training) Ted (Williams) will be more critical, and I think that will help us.”28

By May 24 it was clear that a move to the bullpen was in order for Cox. In his first 11 appearances, 10 as a starter, he had gone 0-2 with a 4.50 ERA. After a poor performance on May 24, “I went to Ted and told him I could help the team more as a relief pitcher. He said that was fine and he would try me there. And the very next night, I got a win in relief.”29 He excelled in relief, and in 26 games from May 25 to August 3, he pitched 49 innings, and had an ERA of 1.47.

Williams said, “That’s where he should have been all along, but we needed a starter and he did a good job. … Now I’ll say flatly that he is the best right-handed relief pitcher in the league.”30

Cox’s poor performance as a starter in 1971 meant his overall numbers for the sixth-place Senators were not as good. He went 5-7 in 54 games with seven saves and an ERA of 3.98. He was back at home in the bullpen. In August he said, “I like what I’m doing. There is great satisfaction to saving a game as well as winning one. I have found a baseball home and I want to stay there, and hopefully with the Senators for at least five more years.”31

But as the season ended and September became October, it was clear that neither Cox nor any of his teammates would be with the Washington Senators beyond 1971, as owner Bob Short moved the club to the Dallas-Fort Worth area in October. The Washington Senators became the Texas Rangers. Cox relocated to the Dallas area shortly after the move was announced.

By the time the move to Texas was made, Cox was one of the longest-tenured players on the team, along with Dick Bosman and Frank Howard. He went 3-5 with the Rangers, sporting an ERA of 4.41 when, at the end of August, he was traded to the New York Yankees for pitcher Jim Roland. The Yankees, who had not won anything of note since the 1964 American League pennant, were a .500 ballclub in 1972. They finished at 79-76, good for fourth place in the AL East. The 30-year-old Cox pitched in five games down the stretch, going 0-1 with a 4.63 ERA and no saves.

Cox returned to the Yankees in 1973, but after an unsuccessful outing on Opening Day, he was released on April 17. He went back to the minors, pitching that season for the Wichita Aeros, the Cubs’ affiliate in the Triple-A American Association. He went 6-5 for the Aeros with a 5.05 ERA, and retired at the end of the season.

Cox has been inducted into several school Halls of Fame in the Long Beach area, and was inducted in the City of Long Beach Hall of Fame in 2007.

Cox has had multiple marriages and had one child, Carol Ann, during his first marriage. Carol Ann died at age 44 in 2008. After his playing days, he entered the world of insurance, starting out by selling life insurance. He joined a firm in Florida that paid life, medical, and dental claims for several large group clients. He eventually acquired ownership of the firm. In retirement, he has worked in various capacities for the local Republican Party near his home in Florida.

This article was published in “The Team That Couldn’t Hit: The 1972 Texas Rangers” (SABR, 2019), edited by Steve West and Bill Nowlin.

Sources

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

Addie, Bob. “Cutdown Beefs Rock Capital,” The Sporting News, May 27, 1967:18.

Heryford, Merle. “New Resident: Cox Relief Gun,” Dallas Morning News, October 17, 1971: B4.

Whittlesey, Merrell. “Casey at the Bat? A Sad Sight; But He’s A-OK on the Mound,” The Sporting News, February 14, 1970: 36.

Baseball-Reference.com.

Cox’s file at the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum library.

Johnson, Lloyd, and Miles Wolff, eds., Encyclopedia of Minor League Baseball (Durham, North Carolina: Baseball America, 2007),

Author interview with Casey Cox, November 1, 2015.

Notes

1 William Gildea, “This Year Cox Has Batters Buffaloed,” Washington Post, July 9, 1969: C3.

2 Merrell Whittlesey, “French’s Double Emulates Hondo Homers: Cox Joins Catcher in Star Role,” Washington Evening Star, July 8, 1969: 33.

3 Merrell Whittlesey, “Impossible Dream: Ted’s Nats Boast a Carload of ’69 Pluses,” The Sporting News, October 4, 1969: 13.

4 Merrell Whittlesey, “Ted Finally ‘Convinced’ Writers Nats Were for Real,” The Sporting News, October 18, 1969: 27.

5 Bob Addie, “Cocky Young Casey Eyes Nat Relief Job,” The Sporting News, April 9, 1966: 20.

6 “Burlington Stops Rocky Mount on Four Hits: Casey Cox Suffers Heart Breaking Loss,” Rocky Mount (North Carolina) Telegram, June 18, 1962: 2B.

7 Greensboro (North Carolina) Daily News, June 25, 1962: 11.

8 Bob Addie, “Rookie Joseph Casey Cox, 24, Near Life Goal, Exudes Confidence,” Washington Post, March 3, 1966: F1.

9 Author Interview with Casey Cox. All otherwise unattributed quotations come from this interview.

10 Addie, “Cocky Young Casey.”

11 Bob Addie, “Cox Earns Trip North with Nats,” Washington Post, March 30, 1966: C2.

12 Bob Addie, “Cox Provides Some Relief for Nats’ Pitchers, Fans,” Washington Post, April 17, 1966: C4.

13 Merrell Whittlesey, “Cox Convinces Three Doubters,” Washington Evening Star, July 25, 1971: C-3.

14 The Sporting News, December 3, 1966: 59.

15 Ibid.

16 Merrell Whittlesey, “Cox’ Temper a Big Problem in Latin League,” The Sporting News, June 28, 1969: 16.

17 George Minot Jr., “Casey Cox, Nen Signed by Senators,” Washington Post, January 26, 1967: F1.

18 The Sporting News, March 11, 1967: 19.

19 Merrell Whittlesey, “Short Wins Rousing A-OK in Capital Inaugural,” The Sporting News, December 28, 1968: 27.

20 William Gildea, “This Year Cox Has Batters Buffaloed,” Washington Post, July 9,1969: C3

21 George Minot Jr., “Long Relief Effort Gives Cox Victory,” Washington Post, April 27, 1969: 41.

22 The Sporting News, June 21, 1969: 23.

23 Merrell Whittlesey, “Casey Cox Making Capital of Three C’s,” The Sporting News, June 28, 1969: 9.

24 Minot, Washington Post, July 18, 1969: D1.

25 Whittlesey, The Sporting News, March 14, 1970: 20.

26 Merrell Whittlesey, “Nat Rivals Hit Tune Sounds Like a Waltz to Casey,” The Sporting News, May 2, 1970: 19.

27 The Sporting News, July 25, 1970: 30.

28 Merrell Whittlesey, “Cox Perfects His Curve in Winter Ball,” The Sporting News, January 9, 1971: 51.

29 Randy Galloway, “’Old Man’ Cox Leads Ranger Early Birds,” Dallas Morning News, February 18, 1972: B1.

30 Merrell Whittlesey, “Nats’ Cox Relief Whiz, And He Likes the Job,” The Sporting News, August 14, 1971: 15.

31 Merrell Whittlesey, “Cox Adjusts Well to Relief Job,” The Sporting News, August 14, 1971: 20.

Jimmy grew up deeply immersed in the world of Boston sports. His father supplemented his income while satisfying his love of baseball as an usher at Fenway Park. His longtime access to Fenway Park enabled Jimmy to experience major-league sports and its players close-up. Joseph once asked Ted Williams to pose with Joe Jr. and Jimmy for a photo prior to a Red Sox game in 1948. The boys, 5 and 4 years old at the time, were posed on either side of the majestically tall man who had hit .406 in 1941. Jimmy retained many such rich memories of his dad and Fenway Park. He often told of how his father, when the Fenway Park gates opened before a game, Joe Sr. would stand by the Red Sox dugout and cry out to the other ushers, “They’re open!” Tom Grieve, a teammate of Jimmy’s on the 1972 Rangers, remembered fondly how delighted his teammates were when Jimmy would emulate his father by crying out, during batting practice, “They’re open!” as the fans began to enter the ballpark.1

Joe Sr. often used his friendship with ushers at other venues, particularly Boston Garden, to get his family (and sometimes their friends) into events without tickets. He would have them gather an inconspicuous distance from a gate while he engaged in conversation with the gate usher. Upon “getting the high sign” from his father, the youngsters were to enter through the gate and “not look back.” This procedure served the Driscoll family well over the years, exposing them to many baseball, hockey, basketball, and football games. As the boys grew older, it would be their turn to be the attraction at local venues.

Jimmy’s older brother, Joe Jr., was the first to draw attention to the Driscoll family. In the spring of 1961, he broke a 68-68 tie with time expiring in the state high-school championship basketball game by sinking the game-winning basket from beyond the half-court line. The game was played before a packed house of 13,909 in the Boston Garden. In the fall of that year, Jimmy quarterbacked his Arlington High School football team to the state championship. In the spring of 1962, Jimmy’s senior year, he tied baseball’s Tony Conigliaro for the state high-school leadership in home runs. Other brothers, in the years to follow, would quarterback their team in a Sun Bowl football game; play in the College World Series; and umpire, calling balls and strikes, in the College World Series championship game that Roger Clemens pitched for the winning University of Texas Longhorns.

Jimmy performed well at football and basketball, but baseball was to be what shaped his future. An infielder, he was followed, starting in his sophomore year, by an ever-growing number of major-league scouts attending his high-school games. This attention culminated on graduation night in early June of 1962. His graduation ceremony began at 7:00 P.M. and by 10:30 he had signed his first professional baseball contract. (This was prior to today’s amateur draft so teams had to compete for prospective talent by offering bonus money with the contract.) His father had the scouts line up outside his home, giving each of them 20 minutes to present their offer. Jeff Jones of the Milwaukee Braves made the winning presentation and obtained young Driscoll’s signature on a minor-league contract in exchange for a $10,000 bonus.2

In high school, Driscoll played the infield, primarily shortstop. The left-handed hitter, at 18 years old, slightly built at 5-feet-11 and 175 pounds, physically resembled the Brooklyn Dodgers’ Pee Wee Reese. As a result, he was often called “Pee Wee” by his teammates.

The Braves assigned Driscoll to Dublin, Georgia, of the Class-D Georgia-Florida League, managed by the snarky, seasoned Bill Steinecke, who managed in the lower minors for the Braves organization from 1937 through 1964. A player-turned-author named Pat Jordan, in his book A False Spring, described Steinecke as profane and crude in language and behavior but effective as a baseball manager.3

The 18-year-old Driscoll felt he was in another world as he set about to play organized ball in this small, rural Georgia town amid the civil rights strife of the early 1960s. He recalled the strangeness and puzzlement of seeing “White Only” signs, and blacks having to sit in a segregated section in right field. Adding to the strangeness of his new surroundings was a peculiar and puzzling encounter with Steinecke, awaiting Jimmy after a 10:00 A.M. workout at the Dublin ballpark.

In the lower minors, morning workouts were common to instruct the young players about the subtleties of play such as footwork around second base during a double play or infielder-outfielder communication for popups. Driscoll, having arrived in Dublin after the third inning of the team’s game, did not suit up with the team, so the next morning’s workout was his first uniformed activity with his new club. After the workout, the players headed to the showers. Jimmy described an event that he believed to be either an initiation or an act of unprecedented insensitivity. At the time of a 2016 interview4, he still hadn’t decided which. As he described it:

The showers next to the locker room was a small area with only five shower heads. In their haste to dress and leave for lunch at least 10 players, maybe more, gathered under those five shower heads, myself included. This scrum of naked men, elbowing and shoving each other, while vying for the most effective position under the directed water flow, got even more congested when the manager, Bill Steineke, joined his wet and soap-covered team in the disorderly fray beneath each of the limited number of shower heads. You must understand that Steineke was a consummate tobacco chewer. Not attracted by the neatly packaged and processed name brands like Red Man or Beech-Nut, he preferred chewing portions of cigars. Inserting a cigar in his mouth, he would bite off a significant portion, beginning to chew as portions of tobacco leaf fell from his lower lip because his mouth could simply not contain all the tobacco he had ungracefully shoved into the ever-growing bulge in his right cheek. Such was the condition of Steiny’s mouth as he stood within a foot of my presence. Water, flowing over his face, slightly discolored the tobacco juice dripping onto the floor of the shower and upon his hairy chest. Stepping away from the direct flow of the shower head, he turned his face to mine and began to speak. Simultaneously, with the words leaving his mouth, was the fine spray of tobacco particles and juice which settled upon my face. At the same time, I became conscious of a continuous stream of warm water falling, thigh high, upon my left leg. The stream of water was hitting my leg at an angle which made me think it was not from the shower head. Turning my head downward to avoid the tobacco spray, I heard the words, ‘Welcome to pro ball kid! You’re going to love it here!” While appreciating the welcome message, I was disheartened to see he was urinating upon my leg. Welcome indeed!

Despite the disturbing nature of his first day in pro ball and the other cultural adjustments required of the schoolboy from Boston, he adapted to baseball among the cotton fields and played in 48 games while hitting a respectable .275. However, this was to be his only year as property of the Milwaukee Braves; in November he was selected by the Kansas City Athletics in the first-year player draft.

The first-year player draft was instituted by the major-league clubs at the 1958 winter meetings as a way to save themselves from the price war for young baseball talent that was developing after World War II.5 Bonuses were becoming exorbitant and were even exceeding the salaries of some major-league players. At the 1964 winter meetings the rule was abandoned in favor of the amateur draft. In 1962 Driscoll was one of the 45 players drafted.

Driscoll labored long in the Kansas City/Oakland A’s minor-league system, spending two years at Class A, two years at Double A, and four years at Triple A. It was a long journey but after eight years, at age 26 he got the call. It came on the night of June 16, 1970. Playing for the Triple-A Iowa Oaks (Des Moines), Driscoll doubled off the right-field wall to drive in the game-winning run. This was a special occasion for him because four of his brothers were there to see him play. They had traveled to Omaha, Nebraska, to see their brother Mark play in the College World Series for the University of Arizona. After Arizona was eliminated from the tourney, they traveled to Des Moines to see Jimmy play. After the game they bunked in Jimmy’s apartment. Around 7:30 in the morning, Jimmy got a call from Charlie Finley, owner of the Oakland A’s, who asked, “How would you like to be wearing a pair of white shoes in Detroit tonight?”6 The brothers flew to Detroit and took a cab to Tiger Stadium. Arriving about 5 P.M., Jimmy found a locker with a uniform bearing the number 21 with DRISCOLL on the back of the jersey, as well as a pair of white shoes as Charlie Finley had promised. Less than 24 hours from his walk-off double, Driscoll was in uniform for the Athletics game in Tiger Stadium before a crowd of 12,541 that included his five brothers. He would never forget the night of June 17, 1970.

The 1970 Oakland A’s were building the foundations of the team that would gain a playoff spot in 1971, then win the next three World Series (1972-74). Driscoll had been called up from Iowa after hitting a solid .303 in 76 games. This performance came on the heels of a .286 season in 1969.

From the bench, Driscoll watched his team take a 1-0 lead off Tigers lefty Les Cain in the top of the first. Catfish Hunter, however, could not hold the lead, failing to get anyone out in the bottom of the second. The Tigers scored five runs in the inning off Hunter and reliever Diego Segui. The A’s regained the lead in the fourth only to see the Tigers retake the lead in the fifth. With the Tigers leading 8-7 in the top of the seventh inning, the A’s manager, John McNamara, sent Driscoll up to pinch-hit for second baseman Tony La Russa.7 Driscoll waited in the on-deck circle while Rick Monday batted. Monday singled to right field. As Driscoll strode to the plate, Bill Freehan, the Tigers catcher, gave him a puzzled glance, then trotted to the mound followed soon by the Tigers pitching coach. Driscoll thought they were probably discussing how to pitch to this nameless guy no one knew. After the umpire broke up the meeting at the mound, Driscoll positioned himself in the batter’s box. Before seeing a pitch, he watched as Tom Timmermann, the Detroit pitcher, threw wildly to first base and Monday went to second base, in scoring position as the tying run. Nervous but focused, Driscoll dug in at the plate and awaited the first pitch. It was an inside fastball that he turned on quickly, hitting it solidly. Its path was a long, high arc down the right-field line toward the covered bleachers of Tiger Stadium, but drifted foul.

Returning to the batter’s box, Driscoll thought to himself, “It might not be official but I know I hit the first pitch I saw in the major leagues for a home run!” In a few moments the inning ended with Driscoll lifting a fly ball to Mickey Stanley in center field for the third out.

He played in another 20 games for the A’s that year, mostly in pinch-hitting roles, but the season was to include even more special moments and highlights for Driscoll to remember. On Sunday, July 19, the A’s were in Boston to start a two-game series with the Red Sox. There was some local media notice of Jimmy Driscoll, a local boy, coming into town with the A’s. He had permission from manager McNamara to stay with his folks rather than with the team at the hotel. Driscoll said he had 91 tickets held at the Fenway Park box office for family and friends. (Each player is granted 10 tickets to pass out for any game. Driscoll “borrowed” tickets from teammates to accumulate 91.

While Driscoll visited with his family, his father asked if he was starting the first game. Jimmy said he wouldn’t know until right before game time. Upon arrival at Fenway Park on Sunday morning, he learned that McNamara had put him in the starting lineup at second base. With his very proud mom and dad sitting in front-row box seats by the A’s on-deck circle, he went 2-for-4 against Ray Culp in a losing effort in the first game of the series and 0-for-3 in a 3-2 win for the A’s in the second game. Driscoll recalled that he made a great play in the bottom of the first inning of the second game, going hard to his left between first and second base to rob Carl Yastrzemski of a hit. Yastrzemski, with a batting average of .3286 (rounded off to .329) lost the batting title to Alex Johnson of the California Angels (.3289, also rounded off to .329). Had Driscoll not made that play, Yastrzemski would have won the batting title.

At the end of that 1970 season, Driscoll experienced another special moment. In the last three games of the season, he got a taste of being a regular in the big leagues. Closing out the year against the Milwaukee Brewers, he started all three games at shortstop, replacing an injured Bert Campaneris.

In the first game of that series, on September 29, Driscoll, batting eighth in the A’s lineup, went 1-for-3 with a walk. His hit was a solo home run off the Brewers’ Al Downing, who four years later would be famous for his association with Hank Aaron’s 715th home run,8 to lead off the bottom of the fourth inning and put the A’s ahead, 3-2. The A’s, with Catfish Hunter pitching a complete game, won 4-3. Driscoll laughingly claimed, “Hank Aaron has nothing on me. Downing is on my list too!” This was his only major-league home run.

Whether it was the change in management (Dick Williams replacing McNamara as manager) or other reasons, such as too many left-handed batters, the exact reason will never be known, but the net of it all was Driscoll being returned to the Iowa Oaks for the 1971 season. Then, on June 15, 1971, the Washington Senators purchased his contract from the A’s and assigned him to another American Association club, the Denver Bears. He remained in the American Association for the rest of that year, batting a combined .262 with 15 home runs.

The 1971 season was a highlight in Driscoll’s minor-league career. He was named to the American Association All-Star team, and the Bears won the American Association championship, and played the Rochester Red Wings (champions of the International League) in what was then called the Junior World Series. Driscoll recalled the experience in an article in 1974 in the Denver Post: “We had to play all seven games in Rochester because of construction in Bears Stadium, Driscoll said. We came close to winning. We were down 3-1 and came back before Rochester won in the seventh game. We had some rain postponements, and it seemed as if we were there forever.”9

Driscoll batted .423 with one home run, four doubles, and five RBIs in the Junior World Series.10 That success earned him a trip to the 1972 spring-training camp of the Texas Rangers, the former Washington Senators.

Irv Moss described Driscoll’s first meeting with his new manager: “On his first day with the Rangers, Driscoll showed Ted Williams a picture taken at Fenway Park of the former Boston Red Sox slugger and a 4-year old boy. It was Driscoll some 24 years before the reunion.”11 Driscoll said that Williams was pleased he had shown him the photograph. Ted then autographed the photo with these words, “To Jim: The effort paid off. My regards, Ted Williams.”

Hitless in 20 plate appearances for the Rangers, Driscoll was sent down to Denver in late May, never again to see action in the majors.

He played in his last major-league game on May 26, 1972. Third baseman Dave Nelson was hit by a Bert Blyleven pitch and had to leave in the third inning of the game. Driscoll entered the game as his replacement. Blyleven, on his way to a complete-game five-hit shutout, retired Driscoll in each of his three plate appearances that day, a strikeout in the fourth, a fly ball to right in the seventh, and a popup to shortstop in the ninth. On his last plate appearance in the major leagues, Driscoll made the 27th out to seal a 7-0 home victory over the Rangers by the Minnesota Twins before 7,383 witnesses. In his brief stay with the Rangers, Driscoll played in 15 games and reached base just twice, both on walks, never scored, and finished 0-for-18 at the plate.

In December 1972 Driscoll and catcher Hal King were traded by the Rangers to the Cincinnati Reds for pitcher Jimmy Merritt. Invited to 1973 spring training, though under a minor-league contract, Driscoll got a lot of playing time at second base in most of the Reds’ exhibition games. Hitting over .400 with a couple of home runs, he was beginning to feel good about his prospects of sticking with the Reds, who were just then forming the core of Sparky Anderson’s “Big Red Machine” that dominated the mid- to late ’70s. But it was in a game near the end of spring training that Driscoll began to see the direction of his major-league career:

“I don’t remember who hit it but a towering fly ball between first and second was coming down in short right field. A 23-year-old rookie named Ken Griffey (Sr.) was playing in right field. I was going out and Griffey was coming in. Not hearing him say anything and my eyes focused upon the descending ball, just as the ball hit my glove, Griffey hit me. Falling to the ground, feeling conscious but breathless, I held the ball for the third out. As we both lay sprawled upon the ground, I could see a concerned Sparky Anderson, Alex Grammas, and the trainer racing from the dugout toward us. Without so much as a glance or word for me, they all hurdled over my prone body to get to Griffey, also laying on his back. I struggled, unnoticed by all, to get up and walk back to the dugout unassisted. It was obvious to me where I fit into this organization. True to my feelings, the next day I got notified that Sparky Anderson wanted to see me. He told me I had played well enough to make the club but he had too many left-handed batters on the club. I was being sent down to Indianapolis.”

After two disappointing seasons with Triple-A Indianapolis, (.226 and .206), Driscoll caught on with the Houston Astros’ Triple-A team for the 1975 season. Ironically, he found himself in Des Moines playing for the Iowa Oaks. Hitting .205 for the year, he retired from professional baseball after the 1975 season. He was 31 years old.

After baseball Driscoll found success as an area scout for the Baltimore Orioles, while living in the Phoenix area for over 30 years. At his first game as a scout, another scout who was sitting next to him introduced himself, “Hi! I’m Joe Maddon. I’m a scout with the California Angels.” They became good friends, with Jimmy being asked by Joe to be the best man at his wedding.

Upon retirement from scouting, Driscoll returned to New England in 2010, and currently lives in New Hampshire with his wife, Caroline. They have one daughter, Heather, who teaches botany at the University of New Hampshire. Driscoll is active in his church and enjoys fishing and golf.

This article was published in “The Team That Couldn’t Hit: The 1972 Texas Rangers” (SABR, 2019), edited by Steve West and Bill Nowlin.

Sources

In addition to the sources cited in the Notes, the author relied on Baseball-Refrerence.com.

Notes

1 Author interview with Tom Grieve, November 12, 2015.

2 Irv Moss, “’71 Season Memorable for Jimmy Driscoll,” Denver Post, May 1, 2014.

3 Pat Jordan, A False Spring (New York: Dodd, Mead & Company, 1975), 114-117.

4 Unless otherwise noted, all direct quotations are from an author interview with Jim Driscoll on April 24, 2016.

5 Cliff Blau, “The Real First Year Draft,” Baseball Research Journal 39, No. 1 (2010).

6 Oakland in 1970 was experimenting with unconventional, colorful uniforms that included white shoes in place of the more conventional black shoes.

7 Hall of Famer Tony La Russa, whose playing career in the majors and minors spanned 16 years (1962-1977), was a weak-hitting infielder whose career major-league batting average was .199 in 203 plate appearances in 132 games. After being released by the St. Louis Cardinals in 1977, he took the job of field manager for the Chicago White Sox at the end of the 1979 season. This began one of the most successful managerial careers in major-league history, spanning 33 years, over 5,000 games, six pennants and three World Series championships with three different teams (White Sox, A’s, Cardinals). La Russa was inducted into the Hall of Fame in Cooperstown in 2014.

8 Al Downing, on April 8, 1974, while pitching for the Los Angeles Dodgers in a game against the Atlanta Braves, in the fourth inning of that game gave up the 715th home run of Hank Aaron’s career. This broke Babe Ruth’s long-standing record for career home runs.

9 Moss.

10 Ibid.

11 Ibid.