Baseball’s Baby Bull The Bay Area’s Very Own

When Major League Baseball first came to the Bay Area in 1958, the city of San Francisco was far more cohesive than it is now. The City by the Bay had its proper share of common heroes and common passions: columnist Herb Caen; symphony conductor Pierre Monteux; a football team called the 49ers; and an exciting rookie first baseman and slugger supreme, 20-year-old Orlando Cepeda, baseball’s inimitable “Baby Bull.”

To say that Cepeda won over the Bay Area baseball fans would be an understatement. Unlike the great Willie Mays, who was a New York transplant, the “Baby Bull” was a San Francisco original, its first home grown “superstar.” He was “Cha Cha” the dancing master, a nickname given him by teammate Johnny Antonelli, an exciting young presence, a Latin charmer whom the city embraced like a native son.

“Right from the start I fell in love with the City,” Cepeda later recalled. “There was everything that I liked. We played more day games then, so I usually had at least two nights a week to myself. On Sundays I’d go to jazz workshops for jam sessions. I’d stay in San Francisco three or four weeks after the season ended just to enjoy it.”

Nor did it take long for the “Baby Bull” to enjoy instant celebrity. Manager Bill Rigney, who inherited a sixth place team from New York, wisely gave San Francisco the pleasure of creating its 0wn heroes. And there was no brighter star than the “Baby Bull,” who had been likened to a young Josh Gibson in his native Puerto Rico.

The setting could not have been better for the first Major League game ever played on the West Coast, when the Giants opened on April 15, 1958 against their arch-rivals, the Los Angeles Dodgers.

“Here I was only twenty years old so very excited,” Cepeda recalled. “I looked across the field and saw many of the same players who were heroes of mine as I was growing up. Great players like Duke Snider, Gil Hodges, Don Newcombe, and Pee Wee Reese.”

In his second turn at bat that day, the “Baby Bull” slugged a home run over the right field fence. The fans cheered wildly as the Giants, behind right-hander Ruben Gomez, defeated the Dodgers, 8-0. Cepeda continued to wield the bat with the authority of an established veteran. Life magazine ran a feature story in June touting “The Rookie Bull of Baseball.”

Cepeda speaks of manager Bill Rigney with the highest esteem. “Bill was the only great manager I ever played for. He knew how to treat people and right from the beginning he made me feel wanted. Bill built the ball club. In 1958 we were all rookies — Felipe [Alou], myself, Willie Kirkland. He really put that team together. Then in mid-1960 they let him go. No reason at all, they just let him go.”

Cepeda’s rookie season was a gem. He immediately established himself as one of the game’s top young sluggers, hitting .312 with 25 home runs and 96 RBIs. He led the league in doubles (38), and hit for 309 total bases. He was unanimously named National League Rookie of the Year, the second time any player in either league garnered the cherished award by a unanimous vote. Frank Robinson was a unanimous choice in 1956. In July 1959, Look magazine ran a feature on the “Baby Bull.” “Orlando Cepeda: Will He Surpass Willie Mays?”

During his peak years, Cepeda’s offensive stats were so imposing, one shudders to think what he could have done with two healthy legs during his entire career. By age 24, the Giants’ “Baby Bull” was already 17 home runs ahead of Hank Aaron’s pace at a similar age. During his first six seasons with the Giants (1958-1963), Cepeda slammed out 191 home runs, drove in 650 runs, and hit at a .310 clip. (Aaron’s totals during his first six seasons include 179 home runs, 617 runs batted in, and a .323 average.)

A pretty fair judge of talent by the name of Ty Cobb was suggesting the very same thing. The “Georgia Peach” was a Cepeda booster.

“He (Cobb) came to Arizona from 1959 to 1962. Each time we played the Cubs he would come to see me and talk with me. He would point to Willie (Mays) and say to me, ‘Too bad you’re playing with that guy there. You should be playing somewhere else where people can know and appreciate how well you really play ball.’ I liked Ty Cobb. He was a humble man and always treated me with respect.”

The Baby Bull put everything together in 1961, hitting .311 to accompany his league leading 46 homers and 142 runs batted in. Baseball Digest named him as the “Best Bet to Beat (Roger) Maris.” The numbers pointed to an MVP season. But MVP honors eluded him and went instead to the Reds’ Frank Robinson. Not taking a thing away from Robinson, whom he greatly admires, Cepeda felt justifiably slighted.

“As a ball player Frank was right there with everybody. He could do it all, but I should been MVP in ’61. Frank had a hell of a year, but not like mine.”

The Giants won the National League pennant in 1962, besting the Dodgers in a three-game postseason playoff The Giants’ offense was just awesome. They scored 878 runs, more than any Major League team between 1954 and 1981. They led the National League in home runs (204) and the majors in slugging average (.448) and hitting (.278). Detroit had 209 home runs that year.

San Francisco had its first NL champion. and the City boomed with excitement.

“The City really opened its arms to us,” Orlando recalled. “So many people were waiting for us at the airport as we flew in from L.A., but we didn’t have a lot of time to celebrate. With the play-offs taking up time, we had to get ready for the World Series immediately.”

The Giants battled until the final out in the World Series against the New York Yankees. Cepeda was in the on-deck circle when Willie McCovey’s line shot to right was speared in dramatic fashion by Bobby Richardson, giving the Yankees their 20th World Championship.

Cepeda’s 1962 numbers were again outstanding: .306, 35 HRs, 114 RBIs. His next two seasons were more of the same. In 1963 his numbers read .316, 34 HRs, 97 RBIs; in 1964 he was .304, 31 homers, and 97 RBIs.

In his seven full seasons as a San Francisco Giant, the “Baby Bull” hit 222 homers (30 per season), drove in 747 runs (106 per season), hit over .300 six times, barely missing at .297 in 1960.

It seemed as though nothing could stop him—except his bad knees, and two seasons of playing with constant pain. Following an injury-ridden 1965, when he played in just 33 games, the Giants traded him to the St. Louis Cardinals for pitcher Ray Sadecki.

While Sadecki was winning just 27 games for the Giants over the next three seasons, the “Baby Bull” remained as much a winner as ever. He won Comeback Player of the Year honors with the Cardinals in 1966, then led the Redbirds to a World Championship in 1967 and another National League title in 1968.

Unanimously selected National League MVP in 1967 (.325, 25 HRs, and 111 RBIs to lead the league), he remains the only Major League player in history to be unanimously chosen both Rookie of the Year and MVP. Traded from the Cardinals to the Atlanta Braves for Joe Torre, Cepeda immediately helped lead the Braves to a National League West title in 1969. In 1970 he put together his last great year, hitting .305 with 34 HRs and 111 RBIs.

But the leg injury erupted again, and he was limited to just 78 games in 1971. In 1972 he returned to the Bay Area for a proverbial last “cup of coffee.” when the Braves traded Cepeda, bum leg and all, to the Oakland A’s for former 3l-game-winner Denny McLain—an unusual trade of two former MVPs both deemed to be washed up. Cepeda wanted out.

“I was discouraged. I stayed there for three months, then I went to Puerto Rico. Charlie Finley sent me a telegram saying that if I didn’t call him after a couple of days, he was going to release me. I never phoned back, so I was released.”

But not quite through. Picked up by the Boston Red Sox in 1973 as a DH, Cepeda hit .289 with 20 home runs and 86 runs batted in. He was named designated hitter of the year, as the Red Sox became the fourth team for which the “Baby Bull” hit 20 or more home runs. “1973 was a hell of a season for me and one that I am very proud of. I literally played with one leg.”

Orlando Cepeda closed out his seventeen-year big league career a lifetime .297 hitter, with 379 home runs and l,365 runs batted in. Considering four injury-riddled seasons, that’s a record which few can match, and one with true Hall of Fame credentials.

He played in an era when baseball was at its best, with and against the likes of Hank Aaron, Ernie Banks, Stan Musial, Sandy Koufax, Bob Gibson and Warren Spahn. These were the days when players did not curse out fans, have high-powered agents, and charge $80 for an autograph. Free agency and long-term contracts belonged to the future, and your favorite team was akin to family.

But these Hall of Fame numbers pale when compared to Orlando Cepeda’s record in the game of life. Admittedly, his life hit rock bottom in 1976 when he was arrested at the San Juan Airport for retrieving two boxes of marijuana from Colombia which were addressed to him. What followed were nine years of “pure hell” as he describes them—years he will discuss fullu for the first time in his upcoming book to be published by Taylor Publishing Company this summer.

In need of faith—a spiritual force big enough to dwarf his sea of torment and guide him toward a more positive future—he was introduced to the tenets of Buddhism. It would change his entire life.

Today, Orlando Cepeda is a contented man, at peace with himself and the world. Moreover, he is back where he belongs. Since 1987 he has worked as Vice President of Community Relations for the San Francisco Giants. His willingness and drive to help young people keep themselves on the right track has earned him praise here and abroad.

Active in numerous youth and community organizations throughout Northern California, he spends time visiting hospitals and schools speaking out against drug abuse. With the same unique charisma he so effectively employed as a big league ballplayer, he speaks to the Puerto Rican communities in New York and other urban areas about the importance of staying in school.

His magnetic personality still puts him in demand for personal appearances, speaking engagements and talk shows. He is an icon here in the Bay Area, and an inspiration to the entire Latin community everywhere. A true Hall of Famer both on and off the ball field, he is character and integrity at work.

Four decades after his auspicious rookie season, San Francisco still loves its “Baby Bull,” and the feeling is mutual.

 

Photo credit: Orlando Cepeda, SABR-Rucker Archive.