Bobby Doerr in 1934: His Reflections on Life in the Pacific Coast League at 16

In 2004, a legion of baseball fans celebrated the Boston Red Sox’s first World Series title since 1918. Coincidentally, that is also the birth year of their eldest living Hall of Farner, Robert Pershing “Bobby” Doerr. And characteristically—as the post-season headlines bannered Ramirez, Schilling, Lowe, and another second baseman, Mark Bellhorn—his special appearance at Fenway Park was understated and classy. Invited to take part in pregame ceremonies, at age 86 Bob had traveled across the country to honor the game, and the team, he loved.

Bobby Doerr was born and raised in a Los Angeles experiencing its adolescence as a big city, and 70 summers ago—at the age of 16—he began playing professional baseball as second baseman for the Pacific Coast League Hollywood Sheiks. When the franchise shifted to San Diego in 1936, he became an original Padre, and made a lifelong friend in fellow teenager Ted Williams. Doerr played second for the Red Sox from 1937 through 1951, where he drove in 100 runs six times and set an AL record for consecutive fielding chances without an error. He was elected to baseball’s Hall of Fame in 1986.

Respect for Doerr, however, goes deeper than the record books. Williams famously called him “the silent captain of the Red Sox,” while a Yankee opponent styled him “one of the very few men who played the game hard and retired with no enemies.” Others have quietly honored his 65-year marriage to wife Monica, and his devoted care for her during her many years of facing health issues. A man of deep faith, sharp mind, and striking vitality, our conversation of March 11, 2004 (supplemented by others) offered a memorable glimpse into the story of young “Bobby” as a gifted teenager breaking into pro ball in the mid-1930s.

“My parents, Harold and Frances, were really wonderful people. Dad worked for the phone company and liked baseball a lot. He never pushed me, but when I showed an interest in the game, there were plenty of opportunities. I learned to play on the Manchester Playground there in Los Angeles, and later enjoyed sandlot ball. Along the way, I made some great friends.

“Our 1932 American Legion team had George McDonald at first, Arnold Owen at shortstop (they later called him “Mickey”), and Steve Messner at third, while I took second base. We almost were the national champions, going to playoffs in Catalina and Ogden, Utah—just missing the big trip to Omaha. That level of competition really helped you grow up and learn the game.

”As a kid I used to shag outfield balls at Wrigley Field, while the Coast League teams were taking batting practice, and then they’d let you watch the game for free. Over time, the Hollywood Sheiks (who were tenants at Wrigley, which was owned by the Angels) became interested in me, and I was invited to work out in the field and take some hitting. In the spring of 1934, they began to talk seriously about signing me.

“The Legion ball officials were upset about this, and even threatened a lawsuit, but it was dropped. My older brother Hal (a catcher) was already in the league. In June, when his Portland team was in town, Dad and Hal picked me up from Fremont High and told me Hollywood was offering a $200-month ironclad contract. Of course, I was interested—it was a great opportunity and good money for the time. It was the Depression, you know. My dad insisted on one condition: finishing school at Fremont, which I did with the class of 1935. Of course, when I signed a pro contract, that ended my high school eligibility. So, in the summer of 1934—70 years ago, now—it was professional ball.

“There I was at age 16, a Coast League rookie­ definitely young, but pretty mature. In L.A., the weather usually allowed us to play ball in the winter, often against pros. So, I’d been hitting some good pitching for a while and looked forward to the next level. My friend George McDonald (who still lives in Southern California) signed with the Sheiks too, and that helped. He was a fine fielder (and quite a talker) and enjoyed a long career in the league. It was a great experience!

“My biggest thrill that season was just putting on the uniform and playing in my first professional game. In late June, a matter of days after signing, I was in the lineup as the Sheiks were playing in Sacramento. They assigned me George Myatt as a roommate. He had just turned 20, I think, and was being groomed as a shortstop, so we matched up well on that basis. We also became good friends, and he asked me to be best man when he was married at home plate at Lane Field in San Diego a couple of years later.

“Part of what made it great, too, was the old guys, the veterans on that team. They treated us well. Oscar Vitt was my manager that first season, a seasoned baseball man whose leadership helped get everybody working together. But the one who really struck me—and became our manager in 1935—was Frank Shellenback. He’d been pitching for about 20 years, an old spitballer who’d suck on slippery elm, pick a spot about the size of a quarter to douse the ball, and those pitches would move. Sometimes our infield throws were spitballs! Anyway, he was a real class guy—an active Catholic with a big family who was strict, but just had that makeup you respected.

“Fred Haney was at third, and he helped me with my fielding. Also, he’d been a teammate of Ty Cobb’s, and was a great base runner for us. He taught me to slide better and maybe drag a bunt occasionally to keep ’em honest. Our catcher Johnny Bassler, who had been with Detroit, too, was a .300 hitter wherever he went, and taught me some techniques. The greatest hitter, of course, was Smead Jolley. What a slugger, and such a big, nice guy—but, yes, an awful fielder. On shallow flies to the outfield, I could hear the “thump, thump” of his footsteps on the way in. You know, it’s the little things that you’d pick up, whether out in the field or on the train trips talking. It was a long season, but I just loved it.

“There were a lot of fine ballplayers in the Coast League in the 1930s, and a real mix of ages. One of the most amazing hitters was Oscar Eckhardt. He beat out Joe DiMaggio for the batting title in 1935—but the most memorable thing was how. A left-handed hitter he’d whip his bat through the strike zone, drive the ball usually to left field, and before finishing his swing was running like a deer toward first. It was a really unusual stance and stroke, and I played him behind second base. Now that you mention it, that Ichiro who plays for Seattle reminds me a bit of his style.

“Of course, in 1934, the Angels won everything. We finished third or so, but the other team was something else. [They won 23 of 26 weekly series and, with a 137-50 record, set PCL marks for wins and percentage.] They had Frank Demaree, Jimmie Reese (who later replaced me in San Diego), Gene Lillard, Fay Thomas . . . strong everywhere. Some have called it the best minor league team ever. We had a pretty good crosstown rivalry, but it was cordial.

“Meanwhile, my folks loved it. Dad kept a scrapbook of my games, stayed away from interfering, and just enjoyed being supportive with Mom. People appreciated them. Two years later, facing economic problems, the owner Bill Lane moved the team down to San Diego, and we became the original Padres. That was the extra seasoning I needed before going up to the Red Sox. And when the Padres signed Ted Williams, he was still attending Hoover High School—a junior like I had been. So, the road was familiar, and from 1936 on we had a wonderful friendship.

”Looking back, I’ve been blessed in so many ways. In my younger years, I wasn’t too much on church. I’d wonder, like everyone else, “What’s life about?” When I did pray, it was mostly to be a better ballplayer. What really made an impact on me was the movie King of Kings. The scenes and the music moved me to pick up the Bible and read the story of Jesus for myself. When I did, I began to learn and grow—and came to accept Christ as my Savior. There’s life beyond baseball, and I’d recommend that to anyone listening.”

JAMES D. SMITH III, a SABR member since 1982, has contributed to The National Pastime, Baseball Research Journal, and many other publications. He teaches at Bethel Seminary San Diego and the University of San Diego and serves as a pastor at College Avenue Baptist Church.