Bobby Brown: A View from the Other Side of the 1950 World Series

The 1950 season was a momentous for me because I finished my clinical and course work at the Tulane Medical School in April and was scheduled to receive my MD diploma with the Class of 1950 in May. The Yankees gave me permission to attend my graduation exercise and I was able to get a late-night flight after a game against the Cleveland Indians in Yankee Stadium. In those days there were no jets and we had to stop to refuel (in either Memphis or Birmingham), which meant I got into New Orleans about 8 A.M.

My parents had come in for the big event and drove me to the McAlister Auditorium on the Tulane campus for the ceremony. I put on my graduation gown at the auditorium and vividly remember receiving my diploma and saying to myself, “I did it, I did it, I did it!” I had done something that had never been done before – not in baseball or medical history. To this day, graduating from medical school while playing major-league baseball is my greatest nonfamilial thrill.

After the ceremony, my parents drove me straight to the airport so I could fly back and rejoin the Yankees. I got back to New York without having had any sleep, but fortunately I didn’t have to play in a game until the next day. 

We were in a tight pennant race for the second year in a row in 1950, this time with the Detroit Tigers and Cleveland Indians. In fact, we didn’t take over first place for good until September 16 when rookie Whitey Ford pitched a terrific game to defeat the Tigers and Dizzy Trout in Detroit.  We didn’t manage to clinch the pennant until the final day of the season. As a result, we were unable to think much about our eventual National League opponent until the season was over.

The Yankees were a veteran team and most of us had played in previous World Series. That experience is invaluable because a player has to know how to handle the press, manage ticket requests, evaluate the opponent, and get ready to play without being overwhelmed by the pressure.   

But we felt pretty confident going into the 1950 World Series against the upstart Philadelphia Phillies. We weren’t overconfident because any time you are in a World Series you are playing against a good team. But with the Yankees we always felt like we could beat the other team, whether it was in the World Series or regular season. We weren’t being disrespectful, but we always felt we could beat anybody in the Series. Plus, we did pretty much always win, so that instills confidence.

We played under pressure during the entire season, facing the opposing teams’ best starting and relief pitchers day after day. We simply didn’t “tighten up” in pressure games. We were a terrific fundamental team with players who were great pressure fielders, hitters, and pitchers. And, as I mentioned, we had a lot of experience playing in the World Series. 

We always thought that one advantage we had over a National League team was Yankee Stadium. A National League club seeing the Stadium for the first time was bound to be a little intimidated by its size and the large crowds plus all the ceremonial trappings and history of the place. It had to be something of an adjustment to come into the Stadium to play a World Series. 

We knew that the Phillies had a real ace in Robin Roberts and that Jim Konstanty had been virtually unhittable in relief. But it was a terrific break for us that Curt Simmons was unable to pitch in the Series for them because his National Guard unit had been activated. He had as good stuff as anyone in baseball and having to face him two or three times in a Series would have been a real challenge. 

Of course, our starting pitching was outstanding with Vic Raschi (21-8), Allie Reynolds (16-12), and Eddie Lopat (18-8) as our top three starters. Then we had the added bonus of rookie Whitey Ford as our fourth starter. Whitey had been called up from the Kansas City Blues on July 1 and had just gotten better as the season wore on. He finished the year 9-1 with an earned-run average well under three. Having Whitey meant that we had four superb starters and would be even tougher to beat.

The Phillies of course didn’t have Simmons and had some injuries to two of their other starters, so in a surprise move their manager, Eddie Sawyer started Jim Konstanty in the Opening Game, which was played in Philadelphia. Konstanty was excellent, throwing strikes, changing speeds and keeping us off balance. But I led off the top of the fourth and hit a shot down the left-field line for a double. I advanced to third on a long fly ball to center by Hank Bauer and then scored on a fly ball to left by Jerry Coleman. It was the only run of the game as Raschi threw a two-hit shutout at the Phillies.

Game Two was a nailbiter as well. Allie Reynolds and Robin Roberts were both terrific. We were tied 1-1 when I led off the top of the sixth and hit a line drive to left-center off Roberts. I regret to this day that I didn’t try for second base. I knew it would be a close play at second but I probably could have made it. I decided since I wasn’t quite sure, I better stay at first because with no outs we had a better chance to score the run. But to this day I regret not going to second base.

In any event, I was stranded at first base as Roberts got two popups and a strikeout and the game remained tied 1-1 going into extra innings. Joe DiMaggio had popped up to the infield four straight times against Roberts but led off the 10th inning with a home run to left field. The Phillies got a runner as far as second base in the bottom of the inning but Allie Reynolds bore down to retire the side and we were up two games to zero.

We moved to Yankee Stadium for the third game. I didn’t start because the Phillies threw Ken Heintzelman, a lefty, at us and Casey Stengel generally played Billy Johnson at third against lefties. Heintzelman pitched a great game and the Phillies led 2-1 heading into the bottom of the eighth. But Ken ran out of gas and with two outs, walked the bases full. Sawyer brought in Konstanty in relief and Casey sent me up to pinch-hit for Hank Bauer. I hit a groundball, on the first pitch I think, toward the hole to the right of Granny Hamner at shortstop. It caught him between hops and was not an easy play because he was moving to his right. DiMaggio was running from first and was a tremendous baserunner. Because the bases were loaded, Eddie Waitkus wasn’t holding him on at first so DiMaggio had a big lead and got a terrific jump.  Hamner bobbled the ball, retrieved it quickly, and threw to second for the force out, but DiMaggio just beat the throw. That allowed Coleman to score the tying run. Since there were two outs, it was a pivotal play in the game.   

The Phillies had a chance to go ahead in the top of the ninth but first baseman Joe Collins threw Hamner out at the plate trying to score on a groundball. Then in the bottom half Russ Meyer retired the first two batters before we got three singles in a row to win the game 3-2. Jerry Coleman, my old running buddy from San Francisco, drove in the winning run with the third of those hits. He would be voted MVP of the Series.

We had our sensational rookie Whitey Ford, who was only 21, to try to close out the Series. We scored two runs in the first inning and then Yogi Berra opened the sixth with a home run to put us ahead 3-0. With Konstanty pitching in relief, I hit a triple to right-center field later in the inning to drive in DiMaggio and extend our lead to 4-0. I then scored on Bauer’s line drive to make it 5-0. 

The Phillies rallied for two runs in the ninth when Gene Woodling lost Andy Seminick’s fly ball in the sun. The ball hit Woodling in the chest and dropped to the ground, allowing two unearned runs to score. Left field was a tough sun field at the Stadium, especially later in the afternoon.  I’ll never forget Stengel on the top step of the dugout after the play yelling at Woodling for losing the ball in the sun. Mike Goliat then singled to bring the tying run to the plate, but Allie Reynolds came in to get the last out on a three-pitch strikeout and secure the win and the Series.

Max Lapham, MD, the dean of the Tulane Medical School, was very special to me because he had agreed to allow me to continue my studies and still play for the Yankees. I had invited him to come to a World Series game in 1949 when we played the Brooklyn Dodgers. He said he would like to come but he was just too busy during the middle of the term with meetings and the like. He said he would come the next year. So I invited him again for the 1950 Series, and when he hesitated, I said, “You know, there is no guarantee that we’ll be in the Series every year and I’m not going to play forever.” So he said he would come to the Sunday game, which was Game Four, after I told him that since we had won three straight it might be the last game. 

I arranged for Dean Lapham to sit in the stands with my parents and brother. I told my father to bring the dean down to the Yankees clubhouse if we won. By the time they arrived after the game, the players were in all stages of dress and undress, the champagne had been squirted and consumed, and the cameras and newsreels were going full blast as the players were being interviewed.1 Dean Lapham was bug-eyed taking all of this in. I saw Yogi Berra across the room in front of his locker, dressed only in his baseball underwear, and took the dean over to introduce him. Yogi said, “You really the dean of the Tulane Medical School?”

Dean Lapham said, “Yes, I’m really the dean of the Tulane Medical School.”

Yogi said as he looked at me, “Well, I’ll tell you one thing. You’ve got some shitty school if this dope can pass.”

Both Yogi and the dean laughed, but I didn’t think it was that funny.

Although we swept the Series, the first three games went down to the wire and even the fourth game had some anxious moments. In the end our starting pitching was the difference; we had four really well-pitched games. After the Series, I headed straight to San Francisco to begin my internship at the Southern Pacific Railroad Hospital there.

When I think back on that Series, I still regret not going to second base after my base hit in the second game. I think about that at least four times a week. At least four times a week I think about not going to second base. I thought about it too much at the time and hesitated, but I should have gone all out. I guess that is why I was a cardiologist and not a surgeon. 

DR. BOBBY BROWN played on four World Series championship teams with the Yankees: 1947, 1949, 1950, and 1951. He batted .439 in those four Series with 18 hits, including five doubles and three triples, in 41 at-bats. It remains the highest World Series batting average in history for those with 20 or more at-bats. He was in the Doctors’ Draft in the Korean War and missed the 1952 and 1953 seasons while serving in Korea and Japan. He returned to the Yankees in 1954, but retired from baseball on July 1, 1954, at the age of 29 to begin his residency in cardiology on the Stanford Service at the County Hospital of San Francisco. He became a cardiologist, practicing medicine in Fort Worth for 25 years, and then served a decade as President of the American League.

 

Notes

1 By the way, we didn’t celebrate the way they do today.  Stengel always told us to get off the field immediately after we won to not show up the other team.  We headed directly to the clubhouse and did our celebrating there.