Showing posts with label Montreal Expos. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Montreal Expos. Show all posts

Saturday, April 4, 2020

Forever Linked With Rusty Staub, Mike Jorgensen Recalls Their Tremendous Bond As Teammates

When Rusty Staub died March 29, 2018, the New York Mets lost a franchise icon. The Mets traded a trio of young prospects to the Montreal Expos in exchange for the six-time All-Star just before starting the 1972 season. Mike Jorgensen, a 23-year-old homegrown talent from Bayside, Queens, was one of the traded players who had to replace Montreal's most beloved superstar.

“He was a hero,” Jorgensen said in a phone interview. “He was the Montreal Expo at the time, and it wasn't a very popular trade in Montreal.”


Going to Montreal with Ken Singleton and Tim Foli, Jorgensen found strength bonding with his new teammates. They turned their collective energy towards the field rather than worrying about living up to Staub's lofty expectations.

“That trade gave me a chance to be a regular player,” he said. “That was the foremost [thing] on my mind. I played up there for five years, so after a little while, [the fan reaction to the trade] wore down a little bit. At first, it was unpopular because he was an All-Star; he was, 'Le Grande Orange,' and he was a big deal.”

The baseball tradewinds reunited the duo in New York at the twilight of their careers. Jorgensen returned to the Mets in 1980 via a trade with the Texas Rangers. Staub joined him from Texas the following year through free agency. Now both seasoned veterans, they became friends by sharing a similar role on the team.

"We would go out to dinner a number of times; it was kind of unusual because we were both kind of winding [down] out careers at the time," he said. "We were both left-handed pinch hitters, [which] I guess you could do it in those days when you had seven guys on the bench; you wouldn't have room for that kind of a thing in today's game."

He recalled one candid bench conversation early in their Mets tenure that exemplified how attentive and competitive Staub was in his reserve role.

“The one thing I'll remember is that he studied the game,” he said. “He was one of the best pinch-hitters in the game, if not the best. He would study those pitchers, sit in the dugout, and look for something if they were tipping pitches or something like that. After a while, he'd say, 'I got him, I got it.' I'd always sit by him and try to pick up the tip myself. The first time he did that, I said, 'Yeah okay, what is it?' He looked at me and he said, 'You know, we're both kind of fighting for the same job.' It wasn't in a bad way, that was just the way he was.”

The 69-year-old Jorgensen, who currently works for the St. Louis Cardinals as their Senior Special Assistant to the General Manager, acknowledged how his former teammate's passing is a tremendous loss to the entire baseball community.

“He was great,” he said. “Obviously, everybody knows the stories about the restaurants and how he was a gourmet cook. … He was a wonderful man [with] everything he did there in New York, especially [with] the police department. It was enjoyable to play with him; it really was. I enjoyed my time with him. Baseball's going to miss him; we'll all miss him.”



* - Ed. Note - This story was originally published for the now-defunct Sports Post on April 11, 2018.

Saturday, December 7, 2019

John Strohmayer | Pitcher For 1973 New York Mets NLCS Championship Team, Dies at 73

John Strohmayer, a pitcher for the 1973 New York Mets National League pennant-winning team, died November 28, 2019, in Redding, California. He was 73.

John Strohmayer "Missing 1974 Topps Card" / Giovanni Balistreri
The South Dakota native made his major league debut in 1970 with the Montreal Expos. He pitched parts of four seasons with the Canadian club, compiling an 11-9 record before the Mets signed him off waivers midway through the 1973 season. It was a move that delighted the entire household.

“We are both so happy,” his wife Connie said to the Montreal Gazette in 1973. “He pitched so well against New York earlier this year and he had two good starts against them in ’71. I guess they remember.”

Unfortunately, Strohmayer could not recapture his Flushing magic in a Mets uniform. He pitched in only seven games with an 8.10 ERA and was left off the postseason roster. He spent most of the 1974 season in the minor leagues, making one final appearance as a September call-up with New York. Citing a sore shoulder, Strohmayer hung up his cleats and embarked on a 34-year career in education.

He returned to his alma mater, Central Valley High School, where he was once a standout multi-sport athlete. Working as a teacher and a coach, he led Central Valley’s boys’ basketball team to the CIF championship in 1989. The district dedicated the current basketball court in his honor.

“His attention to detail and getting kids to believe in themselves was the difference,” his son Kevin said to Shasta County Sports.

Strohmayer eventually moved up the administration ladder, working as an assistant principal and principal before becoming the district’s superintendent in 2005. Current Central Valley principal Kyle Turner found Strohmayer’s athletic and coaching experience enhanced his ability to relate to students and staff.

"I firmly believe that some of the best coaches can make fantastic administrators, and I know that a lot of the things that he's learned in his athletic past obviously helped him relate to students and keep the connections with students,” Turner said to ABC-affiliate KRCR. “And that's something that is an integral part of any educator, and he was able to do that very, very well, from everything that I've experienced with John."

In 2009 luck found Strohmayer, when he was one of 15 Gateway Unified School District employees who shared a $76 million lottery jackpot. He retired at the end of the 2009 school year after 32 years in education.


Saturday, December 22, 2018

Baseball Happenings Podcast | Danny Gallagher Author of 'Blue Monday: The Expos, The Dodgers, and the Home Run That Changed Everything'

On the latest episode of the Baseball Happenings Podcast, we speak with Danny Gallagher, author of, "Blue Monday: The Expos, The Dodgers, and the Home Run That Changed Everything".

During the interview, we discussed the Expos' championship run during the 1981 strike-shortened Major League Baseball season. Gallagher explained how "Blue Monday" gives fans a behind-the-scenes look at one of Montreal's most beloved teams through exclusive player interviews from both the Expos and the Los Angeles Dodgers.

Blue Monday / Dundurn Press

Baseball enthusiasts will enjoy how Gallagher breaks down the many decisions that led to Steve Rogers' and Rick Monday's epic face-off in the 1981 National League Championship Series, including the controversial firing of Dick Williams late in the season. While Monday's name still evokes painful memories in Montreal, Gallagher graciously devotes an entire chapter to the 19-year veteran's career that shows neither him nor Rogers, should be defined by their playoff clash.

Danny Gallagher - Baseball Happenings Podcast Interview


Friday, November 13, 2015

Baseball Happenings Podcast: Stephen Bratkovich - Author of 'Bob Oldis: A Life in Baseball'

This episode of the Baseball Happenings Podcast features an interview with author Stephen Bratkovich, who penned the biography of Bob Oldis, a former major league catcher and 1960 World Series Champion with the Pittsburgh Pirates. The book is entitled, "Bob Oldis: A Life in Baseball," chronicling Oldis' eight-decade career in baseball, who at 87, is still employed as a scout with the Miami Marlins. Bratkovich discusses how a letter asking to meet one of his heroes growing up turned into a two-year journey that ended up in the form of a book.


Sunday, February 15, 2015

Wendell Kim, long time major league coach, dies at 64 from Alzheimer's complications

Wendell Kim, the long time coach with the Boston Red Sox, Chicago Cubs, Montreal Expos, and San Francisco Giants, has passed away due to complications from Alzheimer's disease. He was 64.
Kim was diagnosed with Early Onset Alzheimer's Disease in 2006, a particularly aggressive form that affects less than 10% of all Alzheimer's patients. The condition robbed him of his ability to perform the most mundane of tasks, requiring 24-hour care in an assisted living facility.

His website "WK's Coach's Box," asks for donations to the following foundations to help fund research to cure Alzheimer's disease.



Sunday, November 2, 2014

Jean-Pierre Roy, former Brooklyn Dodgers pitcher and master storyteller dies at 94

Often a major league baseball player’s statistics do not even come close to telling their baseball career in its entirety. Looking at Jean-Pierre Roy's three major league appearances and 9.95 ERA, one might assume it was a career short on depth and substance. Those who passed over his career as a mere cup of coffee missed a truly fabulous journey. The Montreal native died Friday at a hospital in Pompano Beach, Florida, taking his fabulous stories of playing all throughout North America, Central America, and the Caribbean with him. He was 94.

Jean-Pierre Roy w/ Nicholas Diunte in 2011 - M. Lemieux
In February 2011, I had the opportunity to visit Mr. Roy at his home in Florida and spend a glorious afternoon discussing a baseball career that started in 1940 and lasted over 40 years. Knowing that he played in a variety of countries like Cuba, Mexico, and Panama, in addition to the United States and Canada, I expected that he had a few hidden gems to unravel. What I did not expect from the 91-year-old Roy, was a raconteur in the essence of Buck O’Neil; a man who could deliver his memories not only with clarity and precision but with an elegance that drew you in from the first words and left you feeling that you had been long lost friends.

A short meeting arranged by a Canadian reporter Michel Lemieux turned into a three-hour long history lesson, with Roy pulling out meticulous scrapbooks along the way. He evoked the names of baseball legends from the 1930s through the 1950s, coming up with a story or an encounter for virtually every significant baseball figure from that era.

I could regale you with details of his minor league triumphs, a map of all of the places he played, or a list of all of the superstars he befriended; however, telling those details wouldn’t do justice to the essence of Jean-Pierre Roy. To meet him was to know him, and I can’t say that about every ballplayer I’ve interviewed. He immediately expressed an excitement about his career from the start of our talk, most evident from his recall of what hooked him into the prospects of a professional career.

Jean-Pierre Roy shares a laugh - M. Lemieux
“The reason why I enjoyed playing ball and going away from the city of Montreal to travel—I got to learn part of the language,” Roy said during our 2011 interview. “You meet all kinds of people, you do all kinds of things that you shouldn’t be doing. I tried them all! I met people that I wouldn’t dare associate with if I were a ballplayer today. I was so happy to play the game; I loved the game. I put things aside for baseball. Of course, today, I regret some of them. I missed the opportunity in certain other fields. That’s what I had in mind, play the game, travel and meet people and everything, so that satisfied me.”

Playing in the Brooklyn Dodgers organization, one of the most eccentric characters Roy met was Branch Rickey. Throughout his many dealings with Mr. Rickey, he was most impressed with the executive's ability to read people.

“He was a very intelligent man,” he said. “He was a university product. He had been a teacher, manager, and player. He had a good knowledge of humanity. A human for Mr. Rickey could have been a ballplayer, hockey player, a raconteur; he knew each one and why they would make an excellent selection.”

Roy had the reputation of being a ladies' man, which didn't sit well with Mr. Rickey. He fondly recalled an exchange between the two of them where Rickey offered him a bonus if he would get married. It wasn’t until much later that he understood why Rickey made the request.

“One time he wanted me to get married,” he said. “It was 1944. I wasn’t the marrying type. I wanted to meet girls, yes I did. That wasn’t on my mind. He said, ‘Jean (with his eyebrows going down this way and his cigar in the corner), I’m going to give you $2,000 if you get married before or on the first of November.’ Before or on the first of November, why not the second or the fourth? That boggled my mind. Of course, I didn’t get married. I didn’t tell him why.”

Branch Rickey's insistence to marry before the first of the month weighed heavily on his conscience. Roy chose to remain single but felt compelled to inquire as to why Rickey gave him a deadline.

“Why did he say this, on the first or before,” Roy asked. “He wanted me to get married before. It wasn’t the $2,000. He knew if I did, I’d get paid after, not before. Mr. Rickey was very selective in his own way. This is very vivid in my mind. Later on, I had the audacity to ask him, ‘Why did you say the first?’ He said, ‘What do you mean Jean? What did I say?’ So I told him, ‘You wanted me to get married on the first of November. Why the first?’ He said, ‘If I said, about the first, that wouldn’t change anything, because I wanted you to get married. That was the first thing, not to play ball, but to play better ball, to understand the game better and yourself. You cannot play well when you have several things on your mind at once, and you have that. You were not the ballplayer that I wanted. You had the ability that I wanted, but you had to do so much more to make yourself available not only to me but to other people.’ That was Mr. Rickey.”
If he adhered to Rickey's request to get married, he might have gone to the big leagues sooner than his 1946 debut. He started the season on Brooklyn’s roster, but it was almost a month before he saw action in a major league game. Even though he only appeared in three contests, he viewed it as an honor just to be there.

“It was thrilling,” he said. “My big fault … if I had established myself as a human being, if I listened to things I heard and Mr. Rickey, I could have done much better than I did. Not only for one particular game but for several games.”

Soured by his performance with Brooklyn and Leo Durocher’s seemingly quick hook, Roy contemplated going south for greater riches. Jorge Pasquel, who knew Roy from his days in Cuba, attempted to lure the Canadian to Mexico for his fledgling baseball league.

“I did not go,” he said. “[Pasquel] was a friend of mine because he used to come to Cuba. If it pleased him, he’d take us out to eat together and give me a watch. I was close to him. He comes to New York and tells me, ‘I’m going to bring you to Mexico City. You are going to play for our club and our league. I’m going to send you the money.’ He offered $3,500 for the trip. I went down and the money was $15,000, big money at the time. I was not worth $15,000 as a pitcher in Mexico. Today I say I wasn’t, but at the time it touched me.”

Roy followed the money, hoping to earn his riches in front of the Mexico City crowds. Once he set foot on Mexican soil, he discovered that Pasquel had a different destination in mind.
“He was a friend,” he said. “Of course, I needed the money. My mother was not well and I had my mother on my mind. I jumped and as soon as I got to Mexico, I went to Jorge and said, ‘Jorge, I do not see anybody.’ He’s sitting on a bench facing the window. He says, ‘I send you to San Luis Potosi.’ That was a little city he was sending me to. At the time, the commissioner of baseball in Cuba was a guy named Pittman. He told me I was going there. That’s not what I wanted; I thought it was Mexico City. I came back and went to Montreal.”

He returned to the Montreal right in the middle of Jackie Robinson’s historic debut season. On April 18, 1946, Robinson broke the color line in the minor leagues when he played in Montreal’s season opener against the Jersey City Giants. Roy spent the rest of the season with him and built together a kinship that lasted the remainder of his time in the Dodgers organization. This relationship allowed him to gain insight into Robinson’s character both on and off the field.

“He’s everything that has been recommended,” he said, “a complete ballplayer. [He was] a fellow who can create according to his ability and put it together at the right time to help somehow. That’s something that I remember about him … Jackie used to do it on his own. He was so strong, mentally, that I still believe, he died from this—he got hurt so badly by not being recognized as a future manager. He wanted to be a manager; that he told me.”

Throughout his global baseball travels, Roy had many opportunities to play against the stars of the Negro Leagues in their prime. He shared vivid stories about all of the greats who were held back and excluded due to segregation. What he admired most was their ability to play the game despite the harsh conditions they faced.

“They didn’t care,” he said. “They played the game and that was it. I spoke with them very often. They would say, ‘We’re playing the game. We get paid for it because we’ve got to eat. Take this apart, it doesn’t matter. We want to play.’”

Roy never returned to the major leagues, bouncing around minor league teams everywhere in places like Ottawa, Hollywood, and Mexico City. He hung his spikes up for good in 1955 while playing for Sherbrooke in the Provincial League. At 35, he knew it was time to move on.

“I was too old for that organization,” he said. “I didn’t care too much for it because when you are through, you are through.”

Jean-Pierre Roy comfortable behind the microphone - M. Lemieux
However, he didn’t stay removed for too long, as Montreal Expos executive John McHale selected Roy to do radio and television analysis when the franchise started in 1969. He remained involved as part of their broadcast team until 1983.

“I was there from day one,” he said. “This is it in Montreal. This is a childish dream. I played in Montreal; I knew they would accept it. In that ballpark, that Double-A ballpark. Mr. John McHale, I owe him a great deal of recognizance. He was the type like Branch Rickey, but there is only one Branch Rickey as far as I am concerned.”

Broadcasting in an era far away from the reach of the hypersensitive media outlets of today, Roy said that the on-air personnel face far greater challenges with what they can say and how the fans interpret their words.

“They’ve gotta be very careful because you have many writers who are knowledgeable and they have friends,” he said. “Today’s sports are so influential on people. It is a big business to start with. Big business means big dollars, and when you have big dollars, you have everything else that is big or will become big. You’ve gotta be careful how you say your ideas whenever it comes up.

“That doesn’t mean being transparent doesn’t mean having to say the truth; you have to be careful. You have to say the truth in a certain way. It’s said in a business way. At the same time, you have to communicate to who is listening to you. You have to communicate honestly and show you have the knowledge. Having all this is a plus and a minus. You know, they used to say ‘off the cover,’ but that doesn’t exist anymore. … Everything is seen by the listener as a truthful communication. It might not be complete as the communication is concerned. You cannot say everything that is on your mind to millions of people at once. This is something very fascinating to me.”

As our interview progressed during that sunny Florida winter afternoon in 2011, Roy assumed the role of a broadcaster during a rain delay, detailing his vast baseball experiences with tremendous pride. I listened with wide ears as he professed his love affair with the game.

“My pleasure and the best memory I have of the game is what I know about it,” he said. “The little I know about it, the people I have known, and the people I see on television. Today it’s baseball to me.

“It’s the answer I would have given you yesterday and the day before yesterday. What I like about baseball is not the players; it’s the life, the life of a human being. This is how you should accept it. Do the best you can in the things our boss has asked us to do. By boss, you can call it God, the manager, the Lord, but that’s it. This is what I want, what I like to see.”

At the end of our conversation, we thumbed through scrapbooks of sixty-year-old photos that depicted the travels of a young handsome pitcher. As we reviewed the images, Roy expressed contrition for the transgressions of his earlier days.

“Why should I go back 50 years and regret things that happened at that time?” he asked. “I made mistakes in baseball, made more mistakes than I was allowed to. That was my choice; let it be, it’s my fault. That’s the part I have to read to the public. If they want to know the rest, they can. If they like me now for what I can express as far as the game myself, I hope they accept it.

“Baseball is a great game. If we can take advantage of all of the ingredients of the game and the minds that commanded the game for years like Mr. Rickey. … He is the God of baseball as far as I’m concerned. There are so many names took birth with that gentlemen. [By] birth, I say the first day they played the game was an account of Mr. Rickey. That’s a gift from him.”

Monday, January 27, 2014

An unlikely reunion for Wil Cordero and his first major league home run

My ticket from 9/18/1992
On the night of September 18, 1992, the New York Mets played the Montreal Expos, and I was excited to get to the park because my favorite Met Gary Carter was now playing for the Expos. I hoped to have one more chance to see him play up close. When my mom told me that we had tickets to the picnic area, my eyes grew wide with passion.

Attending a Mets game in the picnic area was a tradition for our family, as my mom was able to secure tickets through an event her job held there annually. For a young kid, it made going to a baseball game an even more enjoyable affair; there was free food and an opportunity to be up close and personal with the opposing team’s bullpen. This usually meant that some of the players would make themselves available to sign a few autographs, something I looked forward to as much as watching the game.

We usually made sure to arrive early when the gates opened, but this year we were delayed in getting to the park. By the time we got to the picnic area, the Expos bullpen were fully focused in getting prepared for the game. There would be no chance to get some signatures, so I sat closer to the bullpen, hoping in my naiveté that by sitting near the pitchers, I could somehow reverse my fortunes. Little did I know that later in the game, my sulking behavior a few rows away from my family would pay greater dividends than I expected.

Dwight Gooden was pitching for the Mets, and I remember him hitting the skids late in the game, necessitating Mets manager Jeff Torborg to quickly go to the bullpen. After making a pitching change, Wil Cordero, a young prospect at shortstop was preparing to take the plate. I was familiar with him largely due to his rookie baseball card that I owned, so I paid closer attention to the at-bat. A pitch or two later, a fly ball comes skyrocketing in my direction. I stand up in anticipation, noting that the ball is coming increasingly closer towards me. Steadying my hands for the catch I reach out for the ball and at the last minute someone in front of me attempts to snatch at it. It ricochets off of their hands right under my feet. Immediately, I dove on it and secured it in my possession. I was now the proud owner of a Cordero home run ball.

I stand up with the ball and get some pats on the back from fans nearby. Almost as soon as I turn around to look for my family, a Shea Stadium security guard calls for my attention. Being a good young citizen, I followed the man. He informed me that the ball in my hands was Cordero’s first major league home run, and that the Expos would like to offer me a baseball autographed by their bullpen. My earlier dejection now turned to joy, as I would be going home with some signatures after all. I quickly made the exchange, returning Cordero’s first round-tripper to his possession.

Immediately fans came up to me, wanting to know what I traded the ball for. Some said I should have asked for a bat, his jersey, cash, or even autographs of the whole team. Everything happened so fast that I had little time to process the transaction. I was just thrilled that I was being offered something for returning the ball; never did the thought pass my mind of how I could capitalize on the situation.

A few weeks later I wrote Cordero at the Montreal Expos ballpark, explaining to him the events and how I would appreciate it if he was willing to offer his signature, as the ball contained only a few members of the bullpen and not his own penmanship. I didn’t include a baseball card, or a SASE, both no-no’s in the world of writing to baseball players. Heck, I wasn’t sure if he was going to even read the letter, but I thought it was worth sending.

The card sent by Cordero himself
About a month later, an envelope comes from Canada, with the return address written in script, “Wilfredo Cordero, Montreal Expos.” I quickly open the letter, to find a beautiful baseball card, with Cordero’s signature neatly across the front. Both the envelope and card are something I’ve kept until this day.

Imagine my surprise when I read last week that Cordero would be appearing at the 2014 BBWAA Awards Dinner in New York, as part of a tribute to the 1994 Montreal Expos. Right away, I was transported to that game some 22 years ago in Flushing. I thought that if I had the chance to meet him at the event that I would relay the story to see if he remembered. There was one problem though, I didn’t have a ticket.

My friend Nick D’Arienzo of metroBASEBALL magazine must have been reading my mind, because the next day, he sent me an e-mail offering a ticket to attend. I gladly accepted and excitedly awaited my trip to the New York Hilton.

When I arrived, D’Arienzo gave me my ticket and program. Immediately, I looked for Cordero’s name in the program and found that he was not on the dais, but on the main floor with the rest of the patrons. Once we found our table, I put down my belongings and went for Cordero’s table. Sporting a mustache and a goatee, I passed his table once, not sure if it was him. I doubled back, and after a gentleman at his table confirmed that the man I was looking for was indeed Cordero, I introduced myself.

I told him the story and Cordero, as well as the rest of the members at his table, all perked up to hear the tale of his first home run. He thanked me for returning the ball, and when one of the people at the table asked what he remembered about the at-bat, he quickly replied, “You can’t sneak a fastball by me!”

Wil Cordero and the author after the dinner
He gladly signed a few baseball cards that I brought, and agreed to talk more after the dinner was over. We met in the hotel lobby and spoke for a few minutes about being a part of that 1994 Expos team that was halted by the strike, and how being honored at the dinner brought it full circle.

For a young kid that evening who caught his first and only home run ball at a big league game back in 1992, this meeting completed my small connection with Cordero’s memorable first time around the bases.

Monday, February 4, 2013

Bill 'Spaceman' Lee is no senior citizen on the mound

Bill “Spaceman” Lee, the eccentric left-handed pitcher of 14 major league seasons with the Boston Red Sox and the Montreal Expos, still has some loose ends to tie up on the baseball field.

In 2012, pitching for the San Rafael Pacifics of the independent North American League, Lee became the oldest player to pitch a complete game and record a victory in professional baseball. One would think after accomplishing such a feat, there was nothing left for him to prove on the diamond; however, last weekend, Lee once again broke out his bat, glove, and spikes for the final Joe DiMaggio Legends Game in Fort Lauderdale.

Bill Lee taking batting practice at Joe DiMaggio Legends Game
He pitched and played the outfield during the charity exhibition. At 66, he travels the country frequently to appear in alumni games, as well as playing in adult baseball leagues in New England. So why does Lee continue to take the field more than 30 years after he threw his final pitch in the major leagues?

“Unfinished business,” Lee said. “I never really had my fill, especially of hitting. The bat was taken away with the designated hitter; Bowie Kuhn took that away from me. I always wanted to hit, so I’ve got ten years of hitting to make up. That’s 162 games times ten. I’m getting near the threshold of retirement, and this [the final Joe DiMaggio Legends Game] may be an omen, this may be it.”

While Lee contemplates his last trip around the bases, he continues to enjoy whatever time he has left in the sun.

“This year I’ve hit a home run already, so I have to play one more year," he said. "I hit the ball, it was a home run, but it wasn’t out of the park. It was an inside the park home run, which means I can still run. The guy outside, he had to get a respirator and his dog couldn’t find the ball because he was blind, but other than that, I still play because I love the game.”

Thursday, November 1, 2012

Pascual Perez ex-Yankee fatally stabbed in home invasion

Pascual Perez, former pitcher for the New York Yankees, was killed at his home on Thursday in the Dominican Republic. His death was the result of an apparent home invasion, where he was fatally stabbed in the neck. He was 55.

Pascual Perez signed card - Baseball Almanac

Perez made his debut with the Pittsburgh Pirates in 1980, but gained notoriety in 1982 when he was traded to the Atlanta Braves and failed to report for his first start. Perez drove around I-285 multiple times looking for the stadium, but eventually ran out of gas, drawing the ire of manager Joe Torre. He earned the nickname, “I-285,” for the incident. Perez recovered from his blunder and went on to make the All-Star team the following season. He continued to pitch with the Braves until 1985.

The Infamous I-285 Incident
He mysteriously disappeared from baseball for the entire 1986 season, but resurfaced with the Montreal Expos in 1987, where he had the most success in his career, going 28-21 from 1987-89. The Yankees signed him as a free agent prior to the 1990 season, and he pitched a rain-shortened no-hitter against the Texas Rangers in his first start of the year. Despite the high expectations from his pinstripe debut, injuries kept him from taking the field regularly during his two-year tenure with the Yankees. His Yankee career came to an abrupt end when he was suspended in 1992 from baseball for violating the league’s substance abuse policy.

The Dominican pitcher, who was known for his flamboyant style of play, also had two brothers, Carlos and Melido, who pitched in the big leagues.