Don't Worry, the Fans Don't Start Booing Until July

Earl Weaver

Earl Weaver, manager of the Baltimore Orioles for 17 seasons, has said some amazing things over the years, and here are a few of them.

1. A manager's job is simple. For one hundred sixty-two games you try not to screw up all that smart stuff your organization did last December.
2. A manager should stay as far away as possible from his players. I don't know if I said ten words to Frank Robinson while he played for me.
3. Bad ballplayers make good managers, not the other way around. All I can do is help them be as good as they are.
4. Coaches are an integral part of any manager's team, especially if they are good pinochle players.
5. Don't worry, the fans don't start booing until July.
6. Economics played a role. Raleighs have gone from six fifty to nine dollars a carton, but there's a three-quarter cent coupon on the back. You can get all kinds of things with them, blenders, everything. I saved up enough one time and got Al Bumbry.
7. Every time I fail to smoke a cigarette between innings, the opposition will score.
8. I don't think, in all the years I managed them, I ever spoke more than thirty words to Frank (Robinson) and Brooks Robinson.
9. If you know how to cheat, start now.
10. I never got many questions about my managing. I tried to get twenty-five guys who didn't ask questions.
11. I think the National League has better biorhythms in July.
12. I think there should be bad blood between all clubs.
13. It's what you learn after you know it all that counts.
14. Nobody likes to hear it, because it's dull, but the reason you win or lose is darn near always the same - pitching.
15. No one's gonna give a damn in July if you lost a game in March.
16. On my tombstone just write, 'The sorest loser that ever lived.
17. The job of arguing with the umpire belongs to the manager, because it won't hurt the team if he gets thrown out of the game.
18. The key step for an infielder is the first one, to the left or right, but before the ball is hit.
19. The key to winning baseball games is pitching, fundamentals, and three run homers.
20. The only thing that matters is what happens on the little hump out in the middle of the field.
21. This ain't a football game, we do this every day.
22. We're so bad right now that for us back-to-back home runs means one today and another one tomorrow.
23. You can't sit on a lead and run a few plays into the line and just kill the clock. You've got to throw the ball over the damn plate and five the other man his chance. That's why baseball is the greatest game of them all.
24. You got a hundred more young kids than you have a place for on your club. Every one of them has had a going away party. They have been given the shaving kit and the fifty dollars. They kissed everybody and said, 'See you in the majors in two years.' You see these poor kids who shouldn't be there in the first place. You write on the report card '4-4-4 and out.' That's the lowest rating in everything. Then you call 'em in and say, 'It's the consensus amoung us that we're going to let you go back home.' Some of them cry, some get mad, but none of them will leave until you answer them one question, 'Skipper, what do you think?' And you gotta look every one of those kids in the eye and kick their dreams in the ass and say no. If you say it mean enough, maybe they do themselves a favor and don't waste years learning what you can see in a day. They don't have what it takes to make the majors, just like I never had it.
25. You win pennants in the off season when you build your teams with trades and free agents.

Earl is a member of the Baseball Hall of Fame, and his plaque reads:

"Earl Weaver managed the Orioles with intensity, flair, and acerbic wit for 17 seasons. He fashioned an impressive .583 winning percentage bolstered by five 100-win seasons (1969-1971 and 1979-1980). Known for his innovative managerial style and his colorful confrontations with the men in blue, the "Earl of Baltimore" won 1,480 games, six American League East titles, four pennants and the 1970 World Series."

Courtesy of Brainyquote.com, BaseballLibrary.com and BaseballHallofFame.org

Campy Plays 'Em All

Bert Campaneris

Campy Plays 'Em All
September 8, 1965 / Municipal Stadium

By Sandro Cozzi and James G. Robinson
Courtesy of baseballlibrary.com

Players in the major leagues often have to play more than one position, but only three men have ever played all nine positions in one game. On September 8, 1965, Bert Campaneris of the Kansas City Athletics became the first man ever to do so.

Campaneris, who would finish the season leading the team in batting average and stolen bases, was one of the few bright spots on the struggling A's. The club was on its way to a 103-loss season, and in order to draw crowds, A's owner Charlie O. Finley turned to a parade of wacky theme nights that honored everything from farmers to the automotive industry.

When Finley had run out of new ideas, he came up with "Campy Campaneris Night," in which his young shortstop would appear at a different position each inning. Over 20,000 fans piled in to Municipal Stadium to see how Campaneris would handle the unique rigors of each assignment. He did pretty well.

Campaneris didn't get a chance to field at his natural shortstop position in the first, but did assist on a pickoff as a second baseman in the second inning. After an uneventful stay at the hot corner in the third, he moved to left field for the fourth, and caught a fly ball. Campy snared another in center the following inning, muffed a Jim Fregosi fly ball in right in the sixth, but as a first baseman managed to snag a pop-up in the seventh.

Campaneris' most challenging assignments came in the final two innings. When he took the mound in the eighth he pitched as well as could be expected. After inducing a fly out from leadoff man Jose Cardenal, Campy allowed two walks, one hit and one run. But he got a break when Angels second baseman Bobby Knoop struck out and catcher Billy Bryan caught Fregosi trying to steal third to end the inning.

Campaneris moved behind the plate in the ninth, and the Angels' Ed Kirkpatrick took advantage by stealing second base after a leadoff single. Three batters later, with Kirkpatrick on third and Tom Egan on first, California again tested Campy's arm with a double steal. Second baseman Dick Green took the throw at second and quickly whipped it back to Campaneris in time to nail Kirkpatrick coming home. Kirkpatrick's only shot at scoring was to crash into Campaneris and try to jar the ball loose.

Even though Campaneris held on to preserve the 3-3 tie, the collision forced him to leave the field. After he headed off for X-rays, the two teams dueled long into the night. The game didn't end until the thirteenth inning, when the Angels scored twice to win, 5-3.

Except for a handful of games at second, third, and in the outfield, Campaneris stayed at short for the rest of his career. Three other men would repeat his feat -- Cesar Tovar on September 22, 1968, and Scott Sheldon and Shane Halter at the end of the 2000 season.

Another interesting Campaneris accomplishment:
Playing for Daytona Beach in the Florida State League during his minor leagues stint, Bert Campaneris pitched ambidextrously in a relief appearance. It was Monday, August 13, 1962 and facing Ft. Lauderdale, Campy threw lefty to lefthanders, and switched when righthanders came up.

George "Shotgun" Shuba

George "Shotgun" Shuba

George Shuba, pinch hitting for Don Zimmer, grounded out to first to end the sixth inning and left three men on base. That was his last at bat in the majors. It also helped set up the Dodger victory in the 1955 World Series.

There are many plays in a game that affect later events, of course, but why did Walt Alston put in Sandy Amoros in left field? For defensive purposes, but it was also because Zimmer, playing second, was now out of the game and Jim Gilliam was moved to second from left field.

Minutes later in the Yankees 6th, Billy Martin walked, Gil McDougald singled sending Martin into second. Yogi Berra steps into the batters box and hits the fly ball to left that was slicing away from Amoros. But because Amoros was left handed, his glove in his right, he was able to stretch out and catch Berra's fly ball and double up McDougald. Hank Bauer then grounded out to the shortstop ending the Yankee threat.

Would Jim Gilliam have been able to catch that fly ball? Many say it was doubtful, but then what if Shuba was able to get a hit with the bases loaded in the sixth? Baseball is filled with What Ifs. That's why it makes good fodder for discussion.

George Shuba played for seven seasons, all with Brooklyn and was also known for trying to negotiate his contract with Branch Rickey and was outfoxed by the slick Rickey, whose nickname was "El Cheapo." Shuba wanted an increase to $23,000. During the meeting, Rickey was summoned to another office for a phone call. As he waited, Shuba noticed a contract with Jackie Robinson's name on it for $21,000 on the desk. When Rickey returned, Shuba agreed to take $20,000. Later, he found out that the Robinson contract was a phony and that Rickey's phone call was a setup.

George Shuba was also the first to congratulate Jackie Robinson in a major league game. In the famous photo "Handshake For the Century" Jackie Robinson scores after homering in his debut with the Montreal Royals at Roosevelt Stadium, Jersey City, on April 18, 1946. Congratulating him is teammate George "Shotgun" Shuba.

Handshake For the Century

"Roger Maris and Me" at Cooperstown

Roger Maris

At the Baseball Hall of Fame Bullpen Theater on Friday, April 22 2005 and again on Sunday April 24, Andy Strasberg will present his story "Roger Maris and Me," a program on his friendship with Roger Maris and the Maris family.

Here is that story, courtesy of ChickenSoup.com

Roger Maris and Me

by Andy Strasberg

I grew up in the shadow of Yankee Stadium and just fell in love with baseball. When Roger Maris came to the New York Yankees from the Kansas City Athletics in 1960, I was eleven. I had been burned in a fire in August, so I was laid up for a while and followed baseball even more closely. I remember a headline that said Roger Maris "rejuvenates" the Yankees. I had never heard the word before, but it made me think this Roger Maris was someone special. For me, there was something about the way he swung the bat, the way he played right field and the way he looked. I had an idol.

In 1961 the entire country was wrapped up in the home-run race between Maris and Mickey Mantle and Babe Ruth's ghost. I cut out every single article on Roger and told myself that when I got older and could afford it, I would have my scrapbooks professionally bound. (Eight years ago I had all of them bound into eleven volumes.) I usually sat in Section 31, Row 162-A, Seat 1 in Yankee Stadium. Right field. I would buy a general admission ticket, but I knew the policeman, so I would switch over to the reserved seats, and that one was frequently empty. I'd get to the stadium about two hours before it opened. I would see Roger park his car, and I would say hello and tell him what a big fan I was.

After a while, he started to notice me. One day he threw me a baseball during batting practice, and I was so stunned I couldn't lift my arms. Somebody else got the ball. So Roger spoke to Phil Linz, a utility infielder, and Linz came over, took a ball out of his pocket and said, "Put out your hand. This is from Roger Maris." After that, my friends kept pushing me: "Why don't you ask him for one of his home-run bats?" Finally, when Roger was standing by the fence, I made the request. He said, "Sure. Next time I break one." This was in 1965.

The Yankees had a West Coast trip, and I was listening to their game against the Los Angeles Angels on the radio late one night, in bed, with the lights out. And Roger cracked a bat. Next morning my high school friend called me, "Did you hear Roger cracked his bat? That's your bat." I said, "We'll see." When the club came back to town, my friend and I went to the stadium, and during batting practice Rog walked straight over to me and said, "I've got that bat for you." I said, "Oh, my God, I can't thank you enough."

Before the game, I went to the dugout. I stepped up to the great big policeman stationed there and poured my heart out: "You have to understand, please understand, Roger Maris told me to come here, I was supposed to pick up a bat, it's the most important thing, I wouldn't fool you, I'm not trying to pull the wool over your eyes, you gotta let me...." " No problem. Stand over here." He knew I was telling the truth.

I waited in the box-seat area to the left of the dugout, pacing and fidgeting. Then, just before game time, I couldn't stand it anymore. I hung over the rail and looked down the dimly lit ramp to the locker room, waiting for Rog to appear. When I saw him walking up the runway with a bat in his hand, I was so excited I almost fell. I don't know what he thought, seeing a kid hanging upside down, but when he handed me the bat, it was one of the most incredible moments in my young life. I brought the bat home, and my friends said, "Now why don't you ask him for one of his home-run baseballs?" So I asked Roger, and he said, "You're gonna have to catch one, 'cause I don't have any."

Maris was traded to the St. Louis Cardinals on December 8, 1966-a dark day for me. That year, I went off to college at the University of Akron, in Ohio. My roommate had a picture of Raquel Welch on his wall, and I had a picture of Roger Maris. Everyone knew I was a big Maris fan. My friends said, "You say you know Roger Maris. Let's just go see." So six of us drove two and one-half hours to Pittsburgh to see the Cardinals play the Pirates. It was May 9, 1967. We got to Forbes Field two hours before the game, and there was No. 9. It was the first time I had ever seen Roger Maris outside of Yankee Stadium, and I figured he wouldn't know me in this setting. I was very nervous. Extremely nervous, because I had five guys with me. I went down to the fence, and my voice quavered: "Ah,... Roger."

He turned and said, "Andy Strasberg, what the hell are you doing in Pittsburgh?" That was the first time I knew he knew my name. "Well, Rog, these guys from my college wanted to meet you, and I just wanted to say hello." The five of them paraded by and shook hands, and they couldn't believe it. I wished Rog good luck and he said, "Wait a minute. I want to give you an autograph on a National League ball." And he went into the dugout and got a ball and signed it. I put it in my pocket and felt like a million dollars.

In 1968, I flew to St. Louis to see Roger's last regular-season game. I got very emotional watching the proceedings at the end of the game. I was sitting behind the dugout, and Rog must have seen me because he later popped his head out and winked. It touched my heart. I was interviewed by the Sporting News, who found out I had made that trip from New York City expressly to see Roger retire. The reporter later asked Maris about me, and Roger said, "Andy Strasberg was probably my most faithful fan."

We started exchanging Christmas cards, and the relationship grew. I graduated from college and traveled the country looking for a job in baseball. When the San Diego Padres hired me, Roger wrote me a nice note of congratulations. I got married in 1976 at home plate at Jack Murphy Stadium in San Diego. Rog and his wife, Pat, sent us a wedding gift, and we talked on the phone once or twice a year. In 1980, Roger and Pat were in Los Angeles for the All-Star Game, and that night we went out for dinner-my wife Patti, me, my dad, Roger and Pat.

When Roger died of lymphatic cancer in December 1985, I attended the funeral in Fargo, North Dakota. After the ceremony, I went to Pat and told her how sorry I felt. She hugged me, and then turned to her six children. "I want to introduce someone really special. Kids, this is Andy Strasberg." And Roger Maris Jr. said, "You're Dad's number-one fan." There is a special relationship between fans-especially kids-and their heroes that can be almost mystical.

Like that time my five college buddies and I traveled to Pittsburgh to see Roger. It's so real to me even today, yet back then it seemed like a dream. I'm superstitious when it comes to baseball. That day I sat in Row 9, Seat 9, out in right field. In the sixth inning Roger came up to the plate and, moments later, connected solidly. We all-my friends and I-reacted instantly to the crack of the bat. You could tell it was a homer from the solid, clean sound, and then we saw the ball flying in a rising arc like a shot fired from a cannon. Suddenly everyone realized it was heading in our direction. We all leaped to our feet, screaming, jostling for position. But I saw everything as if in slow motion; the ball came towards me like a bird about to light on a branch.

I reached for it and it landed right in my hands. It's the most amazing thing that will ever happen in my life. This was Roger's first National League home run, and I caught the ball. Tears rolled down my face. Roger came running out at the end of the inning and said, "I can't believe it." I said, "You can't? I can't!" The chances of No. 9 hitting a home-run ball to Row 9, Seat 9 in right field on May 9, the only day I ever visited the ballpark, are almost infinitely remote. I can only explain it by saying it's magic-something that happens every so often between a fan and his hero. Something wonderful.

[AUTHOR'S NOTE: On August 3, 1990, I received a phone call from Roger's son Randy and his wife Fran. They were calling from a hospital in Gainesville, Florida. Fran had just given birth to their first son. Fran and Randy wanted me to know that they named their son Andrew and asked i f I would be his godfather. To this day I still can't believe that the grandson o f my childhood hero Roger Maris is my namesake and my godson.]
Andy Strasberg

For those who want to learn more about Roger Maris, please visit the official Roger Maris website.

Bob Gibson - What A Competitor

Bob Gibson

BOB GIBSON

Courtesy of TheBaseballPage.com

The greatest big-game pitcher of his era, and perhaps of all-time, Gibson almost single-handedly won two World Series for the Cardinals in the 1960s, and nearly won another.

He was the ultimate warrior on the mound - mean and focused on one thing - winning. In 1968, he enjoyed one of the most dominating seasons in baseball history, posting a 1.12 ERA and winning 22 games. Twice he was named Most Valuable Player of the World Series, and he is the only pitcher to win Game Seven and hit a home run in the same game.

Gibson had as much of an impact on his team in ultimate games as any pitcher in baseball history. He started three Game Sevens, winning two.

As a child Gibson survived multiple illnesses and once nearly died. He grew up in poverty but by the time he was a teenager he was growing into a smart, tough young man. He was a star basketball and baseball player who briefly played with the Harlem Globetrotters. In 1957 he was signed by St. Louis, and two years later he made his major league debut. Like many pitchers, he took some time to mature, not winning twenty games until he was 29 years old.

He first made the All-Star team in 1962, the same year he paced the NL in shutouts. In 1964 the Cards won the pennant and faced the Yankees in the World Series. After losing Game Two, Gibson won the fifth and seventh games within four days of each other, setting a Series record with 31 strikeouts in the process. The Cardinals had their first title in 18 years. In 1967 Gibson again sparkled in the World Series, this time against the Red Sox. He won Games One, Four, and Seven, pitching complete games each time. In his 27 innings he allowed a scant 14 hits, struck out 26, walked just five, and posted a 1.00 ERA. It was one of the greatest Series performances in history and he earned the MVP award for the effort.

The following year the Cardinals returned to the Fall Classic and took a 3-1 lead over the Detroit Tigers. Gibson defeated the Tiger’s 30-game winner Denny McLain in Games One and Four, allowing 10 hits in his 18 innings, while striking out 27. In Game One he was simply masterful – fanning 17 Tigers – a Series record that still stands. The Tigers rebounded and forced a Game Seven, pitting Gibson against Mickey Lolich, who had won two games already. The two battled in a scoreless game for six innings until Detroit finally got to Gibson and won the title. Gibson had done his part, winning two games, finishing with a 1.67 ERA, and breaking his own Series record with 35 K’s.

In his World Series career Gibson had started nine games, winning seven and losing two (he won seven in a row). Every one of his victories was a complete game and he pitched eight in all. In 81 innings he allowed 55 hits, had a 1.89 ERA, struck out 92, and walked 17. His 92 strikeouts are even more amazing when compared to the Series lifetime record-holder, Whitey Ford, who whiffed 94 batters. Ford accumulated his 94 K’s in 12 more games and 63 more innings than Gibson.

Almost as incredible as his post-season performances is Gibson’s 1968 season. He won 22 games and completed 28 of his 34 starts. He led the NL with 268 strikeouts and 13 shutouts. Five of his shutouts came consecutively, and at one point he pitched 47 1/3 straight scoreless innings. Amazingly, the right-hander allowed just 38 earned runs all season, in more than 300 innings. He lost nine games, but in three of those he allowed just a single run.

He won both the Cy Young and the MVP award. Gibson won the Cy Young again in 1970 after posting a career-high 23 victories. He was more than just a pitcher, hitting 24 career homers, including twice hitting five in a single season. From 1965 to 1973 he won a Gold glove each season for his defense on the mound. He was extremely tough, rebounding from a broken leg in ’67 to turn in his clutch World Series mound work. He retired the winningest pitcher in Cardinal history, with an excellent .591 (251-174) winning percentage.

• At the time of his retirement, his 3,117 strikeouts ranked second behind Walter Johnson.
• On May 12, 1969, Gibson struck out the side against the Dodgers on nine pitches. It's just the seventh time that has happened in NL history...
• On August 14, 1971, Gibson no-hit the Pirates, 11-0, at Three Rivers Stadium in Pittsburgh. Gibson collected three RBI in the game, and struck out 11 batters...
• From 1965-1975, Gibson started 310 games without appearing in relief, an NL record at the time.

Signed as an amateur free agent by St. Louis Cardinals (1957)