September 8, 1969: The first of many that were not to come for Pilots’ Miguel Fuentes

A lot can happen in a year. Miguel Fuentes was proof of that.

On September 8, 1968, he wore the Guerrilleros (Warriors) of Río Grande uniform and tamed the Polluelos (Chicks) of Aibonito 7-1 to secure the Puerto Rican Double-A championship. A few weeks later, the jersey read “Puerto Rico” as he represented the island in an amateur tournament in Mexico, with his victory against the host nation as Puerto Rico’s only win.

Now, while the month and day were the same, the year was 1969. The United States had landed on the moon, with Neil Armstrong’s words “one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind” soon becoming ingrained in the nation’s collective mind. For Fuentes – whose locker had the game ball for the second game of a doubleheader – it was undoubtedly a giant step.

Seattle was the biggest city he’d ever seen, even larger than San Juan, but as far as debut locations go, nowhere topped New York City, and he had pitched a solid inning in his major-league debut a week earlier. That was his first time wearing the Pilots uniform, with “S” on his cap and the embroidered wings on the visor. He had never seen anything like it, but then again, no one had, as the franchise had existed for only a few months.

Outside of the clubhouse, uneasy warring factions reached a cease-fire. The birth of the club, typically a joyous occasion, was far from easy. The Pilots were originally not expected to take the field until 1971, alongside their expansion cousins the Kansas City Royals. However, political pressure sped up the process. Senator Stuart Symington of Missouri, incensed about the Athletics’ move to Oakland in 1967, pressured the American League to instead make 1969 the maiden season.1 (Symington was so instrumental that he would throw the first pitch of the Royals’ inaugural home game, telling the crowd he looked forward to a Royals-Cardinals World Series. He died in 1988, after witnessing his dream in 1985.2) Kansas City already had a ballpark and an infrastructure; Seattle had neither. While the 15,000-seat Sick’s Stadium could suffice as a temporary home, the current tenants, the Triple-A PCL Rainiers, would have to be compensated for their territory loss.

Not only would the club start with financial obligations, but its expected ticket revenue would also be less given the smaller capacity. Months later, fingers were pointed in each direction as the city and the club argued over money, often on the front pages: “We have paid our rent. There is no way we can be kept from playing,” thundered team President Dewey Soriano.3

Tempers flared when Mayor Floyd C. Miller gave the team two weeks to pay or be locked out of its ballpark. The two weeks were up on September 8, but the mayor blinked, granting a two-week abeyance to enlist the support of American League President Joe Cronin to mediate.4 Until then, the Pilots would still play at Sick’s. The game would go on.

Most rookies would be unnerved by this background, but Fuentes, a humble man from a small Puerto Rican town, focused on what he could control. The skirmish between owner and mayor was beyond his power, but what happened on the field was up to him. The first two batters, Angel Bravo and Luis Aparicio, were both Venezuelans. Once the umpire called “Play ball!” friendships were paused, but before the game started, they were eager to talk baseball and congratulate him on joining the growing ranks of Caribbean players in the major leagues. At age 31, pitcher Diego Seguí, the eldest statesman among the Pilots’ Latino players, had prepared him on the rest of the White Sox batters.

The cozy ballpark had 10,831 souls in attendance, more than twice what could cram into Riverview Stadium in Clinton, Iowa, where Fuentes had made his Organized Baseball debut in the Class-A Midwest League at the beginning of the season. Sick’s original capacity had been expanded during the season, the city taking advantage of Pilots road trips to add extra seats. Nevertheless, it was still small by major-league standards.

Fuentes, the Pilots’ starting pitcher for the nightcap of that day’s doubleheader, walked to the center of the infield to inspect his work location. The pitching dominance of the 1960s reached its peak in 1968, with seven pitchers registering a sub-2.00 ERA, prompting the major leagues to lower the mound to 10 inches.5 Fuentes acknowledged his catcher’s sign and threw the ball to home plate. Seconds later, a lazy fly ball to center field retired Bravo. Aparicio, the prototype pesky hitter, singled to the same location. The future Hall of Famer stole second base, but Walt Williams popped up to first in foul territory. A walk to Bill Melton made the bases uncomfortably congested before Gail Hopkins lined out to third. Walking to his dugout, Fuentes noted the applause of the home crowd, appreciative of his effort.

Fuentes had barely spoken to his pitching coach and put on his jacket – Seattle was as wet as northeastern Puerto Rico, at the base of the El Yunque Rainforest, but much colder – before the Pilots erupted for three runs. Seattle’s 3.92 runs-per-game average was just below the league mark of 4.09, so a first-inning explosion was rare. Tommy Harper walked and scored on Steve Hovley’s double to center field. Wayne Comer’s single placed runners at the corners, and Danny Walton reached on an error by White Sox right fielder Walt Williams, adding a run. Greg Goossen popped up to second and Jim Pagliaroni hit a sacrifice fly to add an unearned run, before John Donaldson grounded out to end the inning. Seven men had come to the plate, giving Fuentes some time to contemplate his next moves when he returned to the rubber.

With confidence, Fuentes retired the side in order in the second on a pair of groundouts and a line drive. Offensively, he followed the script by sacrificing Ron Clark to second after Clark drew a leadoff walk, but Clark was tagged out trying to get to third on a groundball by Hovley. The third inning brought more finesse from Fuentes; the batters could not move the ball out of the infield and were retired on a popout, a lineout, and a groundout. Meanwhile, the Pilots added one more run on an error, a stolen base, and consecutive singles. They left two men on base but led 4-0.

In the fourth inning Fuentes walked Williams and retired the next two batters before Bob Christian singled. The White Sox’ opportunity evaporated when Hermann grounded to Fuentes for the final out. In a short time, he had doubled his big-league experience as his two prior appearances were for one inning apiece. Both teams had an uneventful fifth inning, going down in order.

By end of the sixth inning, Fuentes had scattered three hits, all singles, although he had walked two. He was on track to register the win provided he kept the White Sox off-balance at the plate with his repertoire of off-speed pitches.

Teammates and well-wishers had suggested that Fuentes enjoy the ride, given that only a fraction of minor leaguers made the majors. Pilots skipper Joe Schultz reminded him to pick up a bat. It was his turn at the plate (the American League would not adopt the designated hitter rule until 1973), and Fuentes connected with a Gary Peters offering for a single, his first major-league hit. He reached third on a wild pitch, but consecutive outs kept him anchored 90 feet from home. Wayne Comer’s single brought him across the plate to give the Pilots a five-run cushion. Goossen’s fly out closed the inning.

Fuentes retired the side in the seventh, yielding only a single to Ed Herrmann between groundouts and fly outs, and struck out Bob Pence (his only K). Fuentes lost the shutout in the next inning when speedster Bravo connected for a leadoff triple. Aparicio grounded to short, but Williams’s single to left field scored the only White Sox run. Bill Melton’s groundball forced Williams at second and Gail Hopkins fouled out to end the inning.

The Pilots threatened in the bottom of the eighth with a one-out double but consecutive strikeouts by Denny O’Toole ended the inning. Chicago’s Bob Christian flied to right for the first out. Herrman singled to center. Doug Adams, pinch-hitting for Bobby Knoop, popped to shortstop, and Pete Ward, batting for O’Toole, grounded to second for the final out. After the game Chicago manager Don Gutteridge complimented Fuentes, saying, “It’s too early to know for sure, but it looks like that youngster is going to be one fine pitcher. He had lots of poise and was throwing good stuff.”6

Puerto Rico’s leading newspaper, El Mundo, celebrated Fuentes’ victory, observing that it “swells the Puerto Rican fan base with pride.”7 Sadly, what was expected to be the first of many victories ended up as the only one of Fuentes’ career, which was cut short by a bullet in a bar altercation in January 1970.

Acknowledgements

This article was fact-checked by Bruce Slutsky and copy-edited by Len Levin.

Sources

In addition to the sources cited in the Notes, the author consulted Baseball-Reference.com and Retrosheet.org for pertinent information, including the box score and play-by-play.

https://www.baseball-reference.com/boxes/SE1/SE1196909082.shtml

https://www.retrosheet.org/boxesetc/1969/B09082SE11969.htm

Notes

1 Joe McGuff, “‘See You Around,’ Finley Tells K.C., Packing His Grips,” The Sporting News, October 14, 1967: 13.

2 Joe McGuff, “Kaycee Fans Stand and Cheer Royals’ Boss,” The Sporting News, April 26, 1969: 5.

3 Associated Press, “Two-Week Extension: Pilots Remain in Stadium,” Spokane (Washington) Spokesman-Review, September 9, 1969: 12.

4 Associated Press, “Seattle Battles for Cellar Spot in West,” Albany (Oregon) Democrat-Herald, September 9, 1969: 11.

5 Michael Clair, “Four Stats That Showed Why Baseball Had to Lower the Mound after 1968,” MLB.com, December 3, 2015, https://www.mlb.com/cut4/why-was-the-mound-lowered-in-1968/c-158689966.

6 “Seattle Battles for Cellar Spot in West.”

7 Roberto Agrinzoni, “Debuta Ganando a Medias Blancas,” El Mundo, September 11, 1969: 3D.