Honoring the tremendous character of Don Lund

I made my first contact with Don Lund via telephone late in 2007 when I started my research to find out what the experience was for the major league players who debuted as the color line was slowly eroding.

He shared his stories of being signed to the Brooklyn Dodgers only a few weeks before Jackie Robinson, and how both of them were offered positions on the major league club on the same day in 1947. We talked about his travels through a variety of major league organizations, as well as his long standing career at the University of Michigan as a three-sport athlete, coach and later assistant athletic director.

Don Lund with the author in 2008

His bird's eye view at Michigan of the budding talents of Bill Freehan, Barry Larkin, and Jim Abbott all rolled off his tongue as he proudly told his favorite stories of each player. He glowingly spoke about his 1962 National Championship team and the influence that Ray Fisher had on his career. He had energy to continue telling stories, not about himself, but the many people he met along the way. Our conversations routinely lasted an hour or more.

Earlier this week, I sadly received the news that Lund passed away last week at the age of 90 at an assisted living facility in Ann Arbor. The mention of his death immediately brought back memories of our 2008 meeting in New Jersey.

Knowing he would be coming to the local area for what was most likely to be the final Brooklyn Dodgers reunion, we made plans to meet at the show and spend some time together. My only picture of Lund was what was on his baseball cards, so it was difficult for me to imagine what I was going to encounter. Time works differently on our baseball heroes, and Lund was 55 years removed from the portrait on his 1953 Topps card.

I walked up to the room, and there was Lund, holding onto a walker, partially stooped forward, smiling as we finally made our acquaintance in person. It was hard for me to envision him as the square shouldered running back that garnered a first-round draft choice from the Chicago Bears, but his grip was still incredibly firm as he reached out to shake my hand.

Within minutes of our meeting, Don made me feel like we were old pals from yesteryear. He introduced me to all of his old teammates as his friend. I watched as he signed away at all of the items the promoters put in front of him, and then as he happily met with the many fans that traveled from far and near to spend some precious moments with the living members of New York's bygone team.

As the signing finished, I went with Don to pick up his check from the promoters, as he had a few hours left before his ride to the airport. He never once scoffed at the amount, even though the quantity of items he signed brought the total to maybe $1-$2 per signature. The money wasn't his motivation for being there; it was to see teammates that he hadn't seen in some fifty years—guys like Howie Schultz, Lee Pfund, Mike Sandlock, Ralph Branca, and Clyde King, all teammates when he made his debut in 1945.

We sat around with Schultz and a few others in the hotel lobby, talking baseball while we shared some refreshments. As I went to pay, he steadfastly refused to let me do so, insisting that I was his guest for the day. As I wished him a safe trip home, he extended a handshake and a hug, wishing me well in my endeavors.

The way Don treated me that was was the embodiment of his spirit; a classy gentleman who went out of his way to treat others well.

I kept in touch with him on the phone and in the mail, exchanging correspondence once or twice a year. He always was willing to talk baseball, and in between the lines, sprinkle a few guiding thoughts for life's travels. We last spoke shortly after he moved to an assisted living facility in Glacier Hills, and even as recently as a month prior to his passing, he still had hope that he would be up and walking again, able to hit fungoes to the Michigan baseball team.

His had a profound effect on Michigan athletics, not only for their program, but for the many players he reached. Dave Campbell, who was the first baseman on Michigan's 1962 National Championship team, (who later played eight seasons in the majors, and spent two decades as a baseball analyst on ESPN) called Lund in the wake of his passing, a man of, "great leadership ... and great integrity," and was one who, "had a great influence on me while I was there."

I wish I had the opportunity to have met Lund earlier than I did, or even to have been one of his players, because in the short time we interacted, I could see how his tremendous character helped to shape the lives of so many young men.

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Dodgers and Yankees upstarts Miller and Bella shared a taste of the big leagues in September 1957

Rod Miller

September call-ups in baseball often signal hope and excitement for the fan base, as they get to take a look at the future talents of the organization. Lost amidst the chaos of the 1957 baseball season in New York were the debuts of two rookies, Rod Miller of the Brooklyn Dodgers, and John "Zeke" Bella of the New York Yankees. One team was on the verge of moving 3,000 miles to the West, the other convincingly won the American League pennant.

Both of these youngsters shared not only their major league debuts within a few days of each other, but also sadly, their deaths. Miller passed away November 8, 2013 in Cascade, Idaho, and Bella passed away November 17, 2013 in Greenwich, Ct.

Miller was a 17-year-old outfielder from Lynwood High School in California. He was signed by scout Lefty Phillips for a $4,000 bonus, which meant he had to be kept on the MLB roster for the year and couldn't be sent below Class B. He played with Cedar Rapids after signing, batting .183, an unlikely total for someone who would receive a call to the major leagues at the end of the season. Despite his paltry batting average, the Dodgers brought him up in September, biding his time on the bench while in the presence of the legendary figures on the club.

"The biggest thrill of my career," Miller said to Richard Tellis in Once Around the Bases, "was going into the Dodger clubhouse the next day, seeing all these legends, and putting the major-league uniform on."

On September 28, 1957, the Dodgers were playing the Philadelphia Phillies at Connie Mack Stadium in front of barely 5,800 people. It was an otherwise unforgettable game, except for the young Miller. In the top of the 9th inning, manager Walter Alston summoned the 17-year-old from the bench to pinch hit for Randy Jackson.

"I didn't believe him at first. I thought he was kidding," he said.

Standing in the on-deck circle, Miller thought about the generosity of his manager, who also had only a singular at-bat in the major leagues.

"I thought about the compassion Walter Alston had for me, letting me get to bat. He was the classiest human being I've ever known," he said.

Miller faced Phillies right-hander Jack Meyer, and after working the count to 2-2, he struck out swinging. Alston replaced Miller with Pee Wee Reese to play third base in the bottom of the 9th; it would be the last time Miller's feet touched major league soil.

"You can't imagine the residual benefits I've had in my life from that one time at-bat. It's opened more doors than I ever have imagined," he said.

John "Zeke" Bella

On the other side of town, Bella was a 26-year-old Korean War veteran, hitting his stride after serving three years in the United States Army. He batted .317 with the Denver Bears of the American Association in Triple-A, his third consecutive .300 season in the Yankees farm system. During that September, with the Yankees having a comfortable lead over the Chicago White Sox in the American League standings, they recalled Bella for a look in the outfield alongside Elston Howard, Mickey Mantle, and Hank Bauer.

Speaking with the New York Daily News in October, 2013 after being inducted into the Greenwich High School Hall of Fame, Bella said one of his clearest memories of Mantle was the on the first day he reported to the team.

"I walked into the clubhouse," remembered Bella, "and Mickey yells across the room, 'Hey Yogi, Zeke’s here. You’re not the ugliest one here now!'"

Bella went 1-10 in his rookie campaign, earning his first major league hit off of Rudy Minarcin of the Boston Red Sox on September, 27, 1957. Despite another season of hitting over .300 at the Triple-A level, there was no room on the roster for him on their World Series Championship team in 1958. With the Yankees looking to bolster their pitching staff for the stretch run of the 1958 season, Bella was part of a late-season trade to the Kansas City Athletics for pitcher Murray Dickson.

His trade to Kansas City provided the opportunity for greater playing time, as he appeared in 47 games, batting .207 with one home run. His time in Kansas City was highlighted by a race with a teammate to the dugout from the outfield that had gone awry, resulting with Bella knocking himself unconscious on the dugout roof.

Bella played one more season in the minor leagues in 1960, before returning to Connecticut where he embarked on a long career with the United States Postal Service. He continued to stay involved in youth sports, serving as an umpire and referee at many levels. One of the local youths he inspired was future Hall of Fame quarterback, Steve Young.

"I remember Zeke Bella and how he umpired," Young said to the Greenwich Time in October, 2013. "He's a tough guy, and I learned about fairness from him."

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Bill Sharman was a prized Brooklyn Dodgers prospect before he became a Hall of Fame NBA player

Bill Sharman, one of only three players to be named to the Basketball Hall of Fame as both a player and coach, died at his home in Redondo Beach, Calif., on October 25, 2013 due to complications from a stroke. He was 87.

For all of the accolades Sharman received due to his sharpshooting basketball abilities, his prowess on the baseball diamond was often overlooked. Sharman signed with the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1950 out of the University of Southern California at a time when the NBA was viewed as a fledgling operation. He was a sure-handed outfielder who looked to break in alongside burgeoning Dodgers greats Carl Furillo and Duke Snider.

Bill Sharman - Dodgers

Immediately upon his entry into professional baseball, Sharman's energies were divided between his two passions. Dick Teed, who later went on to play with the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1953, roomed with Sharman in 1950 during his rookie season in Class A Pueblo. Teed emphasized Sharman’s desire to shoot every day, a routine he later made famous as an NBA head coach.

“We were roommates; we went to the Y every day and shot baskets,” Teed said in a 2008 interview from his Connecticut home.

Sharman soared up the ranks of Branch Rickey’s vast minor league system, advancing to Class AA Fort Worth of the Texas League in 1951. Another future Dodger, Glenn Mickens, teamed with Sharman that year and spoke of his penchant for ice cream in the Texas heat.

“We'd stop at every other ice cream parlor in the street when the streets were boiling and see who could eat the most ice cream,” Mickens said in a 2009 phone interview from his home in Hawaii.

Playing in only his second year of professional baseball, he hit .286 at Fort Worth. The Dodgers called him up in September with the hopes that he could provide Snider with some rest en route to the World Series. Unfortunately, for Sharman, the Duke's services were needed for the remainder of the season, as the Dodgers encountered a surging New York Giants club that went 50-12 over their final 62 games. The Giants forced a best-of-three-games playoff in the Polo Grounds, and Bobby Thomson infamously took care of the Dodgers with one mighty swing.

Sharman’s tenure with the Dodgers wasn’t without controversy, and that was due to a disputed call by umpire Frank Dascoli in a September 27, 1951 game against the Boston Braves. Braves outfielder Bob Addis tried valiantly to slide under the tag of Dodgers catcher Roy Campanella on an infield hit. Dascoli called Addis safe and Campanella immediately tossed his glove towards the sky in protest. Dascoli ejected Campy, and as the unrest grew louder from the Dodgers bench, he cleared them out too. Sharman went down in history as the only player to be ejected from a major league game without appearing in one. Author Rob Neyer disputes that Sharman was ever ejected in his book, “Big Book of Baseball Legends”, as the Dodgers later sent one of the players that was driven from the bench in to the game as a pinch-hitter.

While it makes for good theater that Sharman was ejected before he could get his cup of coffee, he was on the Dodgers bench as Bobby Thomson sent Ralph Branca’s fastball screaming over the left-field wall a few days later. It was his last taste of the big leagues, as the pounding of his knees on the basketball court eroded whatever speed he had to play the outfield.

“He quit baseball because of the speed,” Teed said. “He said basketball slowed him down to a walk. He had to choose.”

Even though his baseball talents were hampered by his pursuit of an NBA career, he confided to at least one teammate that baseball was his preferred sport.

“He always told me he liked baseball more than basketball,” Mickens said. “[Even though] he slowed down from all that pounding on that basketball court, obviously he picked the right sport.”

The Dodgers advanced Sharman to St. Paul of the Class AAA American Association in 1952. He hit .294 with 16 home runs, but with the Dodgers on their way to another World Series appearance, his services weren’t needed at the major league level. He played half of the 1953 season with the Dodgers farm team in Mobile, until he was sidelined with a broken hand. His injury put his baseball career on hold, devoting his full attention to basketball. He sat out the entire 1954 baseball season. He attempted a comeback in 1955 with St. Paul, batting .292 with 11 home runs. Despite his strong showing, there was no space for him on their World Championship team.

Would Sharman flourish in baseball if he didn’t choose the rough and tumble 1950s NBA that robbed him of the speed necessary to patrol the vast outfields of that era? Would he have been provided an opportunity to play if he wasn’t behind two legendary outfielders in Furillo and Snider?

I spoke with Sharman in 2009, but he politely refused to discuss the details, as he said he was saving it for a book he was writing. Regrettably, the book never surfaced. Those who were close to him on the baseball field are dwindling, and they remember more of his warm personality than details about his Dodgers days.

One such teammate was fellow two-sport athlete Gene Conley, who described in Terry Pluto’s, “Tall Tales: The Glory Years of the NBA,” how Sharman’s biggest assist came from their encounters on the baseball diamond.

“Bill Sharman was the reason I ended up with the Celtics,” Conley said. “In the early 1950s, Bill played basketball at Southern Cal, and for one year I played basketball at the University of Washington. Then I ran into Bill again, this time in minor league baseball. I was pitching for Milwaukee, Bill was an outfielder with St. Paul of the Class AAA American Association. Bill told me that he mentioned my name to Red Auerbach, who was looking for guys with size. In 1952, Red made me his last draft pick even though he never saw me play – it was done purely on Sharman’s word.”

For further insight regarding Sharman's baseball career, read J.G. Preston's excellent article, "No, Bill Sharman was never ejected from a major league game as a member of the Dodgers."

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Andy Pafko, Brooklyn Dodger left fielder in Shot Heard 'Round the World dies at 92

Andy Pafko showered with confetti after Bobby Thomson's home run

"Handy" Andy Pafko, who was immortalized as he looked up helplessly at Bobby Thomson's home run off of Ralph Branca at the Polo Grounds on October 3, 1951, passed away on October 8, 2013, in Stevensville, Michigan. He was 92.

His 1952 Topps baseball card remains one of the most collected baseball cards in history, as it was the first card in Topps' inaugural set, and was often damaged by rubber bands that held children's card collections together.

He was also prominently featured in Roger Kahn's classic, "The Boys of Summer," yet the four-time All-Star was hesitant to put himself in the same echelon as his fellow outfielders Carl Furillo and Duke Snider.

"I wasn't in Brooklyn long enough," he said. "I don't rate being with Snider and Furillo. I wasn't in that class."

Pafko more than held his own, playing 17 seasons from 1943-1959, blasting 213 home runs and compiling a lifetime .285 batting average for the Chicago Cubs, Brooklyn Dodgers, and Milwaukee Braves.

In his later years, he gained notoriety as one of the last two living players as a member of the 1945 Chicago Cubs, the last team in franchise history to make the World Series.

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Boyd Bartley, former Brooklyn Dodgers shorstop passes away at 92

The roster of the living former Brooklyn Dodgers is now one player lighter. Boyd Bartley, former shortstop for the Brooklyn Dodgers passed away Friday evening in Hurst, Texas. He was 92.

The Dodgers signed Bartley from the University of Illinois in 1943 after a bonus steered him away from his hometown Chicago Cubs. The young shortstop was heralded for his defensive prowess, receiving comparisons to Lou Boudreau. The Dodgers wasted little time in testing Bartley’s skills, inserting him into the lineup a day after he signed, starting both games of a doubleheader against the Cincinnati Reds.

Boyd Bartley

Sadly, Bartley never lived up to the comparison to the future Hall of Famer. Bartley made three errors in his first three games, shaking manager Leo Durocher's confidence. He lasted nine games in a week-and-a-half, batting 1-21, with his only hit coming ironically against the Chicago Cubs. The club sent Bartley down to Montreal due to his lack of production, as the 37-year-old Durocher inserted himself into the shortstop role.

Bartley played in Montreal for about a month before being ordered to report to Camp Grant, Illinois on July 12, 1943. Like many of his era, his World War II service greatly affected his baseball career path. While serving with the Army in the Pacific, Bartley was operating a jeep when he encountered a Japanese patrol. In his attempt to escape the patrol, his vehicle flipped over and he injured his shoulder. His arm never fully recovered.

He returned to baseball in 1947, and spent a few more years as a player-manager in the Brooklyn Dodger system with the Ponca City (Oklahoma) Dodgers of the Class D KOM League, guiding them to two division titles between 1947 and 1952. He missed the 1951 season as he was recalled to active duty, serving as an athletic director in Fort Chafee, Arkansas. When the KOM league folded after the 1952 season, Bartley managed an additional four seasons for their various Class D affiliates.

Starting in 1968, he became a scout for the Dodgers, holding the position for 23 years before retiring in 1990. His most prized signing was Orel Hershiser. The prized Dodger pitcher fondly recalled Bartley’s courtship in his 2001 biography, “Between the Lines.”

“In a few weeks Boyd Bartley, a Dodger scout, came to our home in Detroit to present their offer. Because I wasn't going to turn twenty–one for three more months, my dad had to be in the meeting. Mr. Bartley offered me ten thousand dollars, an assignment, and a dream. ‘We'll send you to our Class A team in Clinton, Iowa. You'll have the chance to grow and develop and work your way up the ladder to play in the big leagues. We want you to pitch in Dodger Stadium some day.’ I was awestruck by his words. My dream was about to come true. I was going to turn pro. After a short meeting in the kitchen with my dad and mom, I took the offer.”

Bartley's death leaves only 42 living players who donned the Dodgers uniform in Brooklyn. He is survived by his wife Aletha, to whom he was married for 69 years, as well as his three sons, his daughter, and numerous grandchildren.

Editor's Note - Bartley's place of death has been corrected to Hurst, Texas, as per the Ponca City News.

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Ed Stevens, 87, Brooklyn Dodgers and Pittsburgh Pirates first baseman told the other side of the Jackie Robinson story

Ed Stevens was the starting first baseman for the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1946, finishing second on the team in home runs and was looking forward to cementing his feet in the first base position for years to come. Leaving spring training in Havana in 1947, Leo Durocher had penciled him in as their opening day starter, beating out five other first baseman in the process.

Ed Stevens

Left with little time to glow in the fruits of his hard work, Stevens’ jubilee would quickly turn sour as the day before the season opener, Dodgers general manager Branch Rickey announced that Jackie Robinson, not Stevens would be their opening day first baseman. Not only was Stevens about to witness Robinson break baseball’s color line, he also saw his position wither away right in front of his eyes.

“I would like to say that I realized the magnitude of the situation and happily stepped aside, accepting my role as the sacrifice in this incredibly significant moment in history. But the truth is, I was a competitor, and I was agitated. The fact remained coming out of spring training the starting first base job was mine, and the rug had been ripped out from under me,” Stevens said in his 2009 autobiography, “Big” Ed Stevens - The Other Side of the Jackie Robinson Story.

Stevens, who passed away last week at the age of 87 in Galveston, Texas, was more than a mere footnote in baseball’s most significant event. He survived a near-fatal infection to have a 19-year professional career as a player that included six in the majors with the Dodgers and Pittsburgh Pirates from 1945-1950.

“It wasn't the fact that I lost my job [in Pittsburgh], I couldn't handle my job because my health went bad on me. I had a poison in my body that was affecting every joint in my body. It took me four years and 29 doctors to find out,” Stevens said during a 2008 interview from his home in Galveston. “I had my nose broken two different times. I couldn't breathe out of my left side. My doctor in Shreveport, La., said, 'I don't know what the problem is with all of the pains you have, but I'm going to straighten your nose out so you can breathe a lot better.’ When he had the nose broken down, he could see up in my head and that's where he found the poison. As soon as he finished my nose and let it rest, he went back with a long curved knife, a mirror and a light to get up in there and cut all that out. He filled a whiskey glass with it. It was all poisonous puss, and he said if it would have hit me all at once, it would have killed me.”

Stevens regained his strength and within a few years, he was among the home run leaders in Triple-A, yet he wondered why nobody would take a flyer on him.

“I put in about five years in Toronto in Triple-A, and had good years every year, drove in about 100 runs, hit 25-30 home runs, and played in every ball game," he said. "The scouts coming through said I could still play big league ball, but they were afraid to recommend me because I left [the majors] as a cripple. They were afraid that all of that would come back on me. That's what kept me out.”

Stevens played in the minor leagues until 1961 and became a scout for various organizations from 1962-1989. Once he was on the other side of the table, it was clearer to him why he didn’t get another shot at the big leagues.

“I went into scouting as soon as I left baseball," he said. "When I started scouting, then I realized what the scouts were up against. You have to be sure a fellow is good and healthy before you make a deal for him or sign him. That's what it boiled down to. I forgave all of the scouts.”

Despite playing six seasons in the majors, Stevens was ironically 42 days short of his major league pension. While scouting for the San Diego Padres, general manager Jack McKeon caught wind of this and asked Stevens in 1981 to join his team as a bench coach.

“In order for me to be the fifth [coach], one had to take himself off the pension plan," Stevens said in his autobiography. "Eddie Brinkman, one of the finest people I have ever met, volunteered. I will always respect that man as a gentleman and a friend. … After thirty years, I finally had the major league pension plan.”

With the publishing of his memoirs, Stevens wanted to make it clear that he didn’t harbor ill will towards Robinson, but towards management for removing Stevens after promising him the position a few days prior.

“I had no animosity towards Jackie; Branch Rickey was my object of anger. ... I’m proud of Jackie, but I still wish we could have truly competed for that spot.”

In retirement, Stevens continued to receive large amounts of fan mail, something that brought him much joy and satisfaction.

“If you’re a good enough fan and think enough of me to request this, I’m glad to do it,” he said. “We’re still being remembered, [and] I appreciate every one of those people that takes the time to write and remember.”

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Mets and Dodgers honor Mike Sandlock, oldest living Dodger at Citi Field

Mike Sandlock

Honoring the long standing connection of the Dodgers to Brooklyn, the New York Mets honored 96-year-old Greenwich, Connecticut, native Mike Sandlock at Citi Field Saturday afternoon. Sandlock, a former catcher, is the oldest living Dodger and a link to the franchise’s history that preceded the famed Boys of Summer.

Click here to read a full interview with Sandlock, which includes pictures from his personal collection, his day at Citi Field, and video clips from the interview.

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The thrill of seeing Gil Hodges still lingers for a lifelong Brooklyn Dodger fan

In December of 2011, I wrote a piece entitled, "Gil Hodges' Brooklyn Dodger teammates make last minute pitch for Hall of Fame," citing recent interviews with Hodges' teammates coming out in support of their late first baseman for the Hall of Fame. That weekend, the newly formed Golden Era Committee voted Ron Santo into the Baseball Hall of Fame, once again leaving Hodges, his family, and his supporters on the outside looking in.

Earlier this week, I received a letter from 72-year-old Brooklyn Dodgers fan Bill Hidde, who shared passionate memories of watching Hodges play in Brooklyn, explaining why he is deserving of the Hall of Fame.

"I grew up in upstate New York, not far from Cooperstown and was an avid Brooklyn Dodger fan who idolized Gil Hodges. When he retired, he held the record for most home runs by a right-hander in the National League and he had a cover picture and several page layout in Look Magazine entitled, "Ballet at First Base," with sequenced shots capturing his grace and athleticism fielding his position.

I had an aunt and uncle in Brooklyn and for two or three years we made the trip there in the summer. My aunt would get tickets for Ebbets Field. The thrill for a young man to go to our seats and see that lighted diamond, and realize I was watching my heroes instead of hearing the announcer on the radio at home still lingers.

The ballplayers of that era recognized their impact on youngsters and one of the finest tributes to Gil Hodges is one that was never given. I knew everything a young boy could know about Gil, where he was born, his wife's maiden name, his service in the Marines, and minor league time before making the majors.

Several years ago, I just happened to catch an interview with teammate and star Duke Snider. The interviewer mentioned Gil dying so young. Duke replied that Gil was very high strung and got extremely nervous before big games and said he was also a chain smoker. I either had, or tried to see, every photo of Gil Hodges I could find. There was not one that ever showed him smoking and I am sure it was because he knew the bad influence that could have on his young fans.

Everyone who knew him spoke of him with respect and admiration. His early death took him from the spotlight and many never got to know the man and his accomplishments, but it will be a real injustice if he is not placed in the Hall of Fame, a place he earned and deserves to be enshrined in!"

Bill Hidde

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Ted Reed breathes life into Furillo's Dodger legacy

What began as a senior thesis at Wesleyan University over forty years ago for Ted Reed, turned into a long overdue tribute to one of Brooklyn’s overlooked “Boys of Summer,” Carl Furillo. Reed, author of “Carl Furillo: Brooklyn Dodgers All-Star,” (McFarland, 2010) appeared Wednesday evening at Bergino Baseball Clubhouse in New York to set the record straight about the rifle-armed right fielder’s legacy regarding Jackie Robinson’s debut and Furillo’s messy divorce from the Los Angeles Dodgers.

Carl Furillo: Brooklyn Dodgers All-Star / McFarland

Furillo was wrongly labeled as an opponent to Robinson’s entry into the Brooklyn Dodgers, with false innuendo spreading that he was one of the players circulating a petition against Robinson.

“Furillo was wrongly painted as a racist [in the media],” Reed said. “He was the Italian fall guy [so the writers] could make Branch Rickey look better.” This tag would follow Furillo into retirement, infuriating the long-time Dodger outfielder. In fact, Furillo was so affable with Robinson, Reed revealed that Furillo kissed both Robinson and his wife Rachel after winning the 1955 World Series.

Ted Reed at Bergino Baseball Clubhouse / N. Diunte

He was part of an aging group of veterans that followed the Dodgers to Los Angeles from Brooklyn in 1958. Like his Brooklyn counterparts, the sun was setting quickly on his career, moving to a platoon role by the 1959 season. Furillo was potent enough to help the Dodgers win Game 3 of the 1959 World Series with a pinch-hit single; however, that was his last hurrah, as injuries would force the end of his career early in the 1960 season.

The injury left Furillo just short of earning his 15th year of service time for the major league pension, which would have greatly impacted his pay in retirement. He sued the Dodgers for the remainder of his 1960 salary and entered in a drawn-out battle with Buzzie Bavasi in the newspapers. The Dodgers moved to settle and pay Furillo’s demands. While Furillo may have won the battle, the bitter Dodgers won the war. Furillo would never work in baseball again.

Reed encountered Furillo at the same time he was being interviewed for Roger Khan’s epic, "Boys of Summer." While still bitter with baseball, Furillo opened up to him, building an unparalleled relationship with the upstart biographer. The result of their friendship is an illuminating look into Furillo’s career, one that deserves the same platform as his legendary teammates Reese, Robinson, and Snider.

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Major League Baseball lost over 90 alumni in 2011

Dick Williams

Duke Snider

Always one of the sadder pieces that I write annually, reflecting on the major league alumni that died during the past year. In 2011, over 90 former big leaguers passed away including Hall of Famers Duke Snider, Harmon Killebrew, and Dick Williams.

The amount of living Negro League players continued to dwindle with the deaths of veterans Bill "Ready" Cash, Stanley Glenn, Millito Navarro, George Crowe and Butch McCord.

Tito Landrum was generous enough to share his thoughts on "Macho Man" Randy Savage (Poffo) who was his teammate in the Cardinals organization.

I feel fortunate to have been able to speak with many of these legends and get their memories on tape.

Below are a recap of the articles that I have penned this year, many containing personal photos and excerpts from interviews that I conducted with them during the course of my research. Feel free to share your memories of these legends that have moved on to greener pastures in 2011.

Major League Alumni

Marty Marion

Dick Williams kindled special friendship with his lunch crew
Nick Strincevich, 3rd oldest major league player dies at 96
Cole and Smalley Jr's deaths link a history started 57 years prior
Former Brooklyn Dodgers Schmitz and Buker pass away
Eddie Bockman, scout that signed Larry Bowa and four year MLB veteran, dies at 91
Joe Caffie Indians outfielder that started in the Negro Leagues, dies at 80
Ernie Johnson, 87, Braves pitcher, announcer and World War II veteran
Bob "Tex" Nelson's career a golden example of the flawed bonus rule
Federoff's influence has a lasting impact on the Tigers organization
Wes Covington, 79, 1957 World Series hero
Jose A. Pagan, 76, played 15 seasons with three clubs
Billy Harris, 79, former Brooklyn Dodger

Wes Covington

Duane Pillette, 88, teammate of Satchel Paige on St. Louis Browns
Eddie Joost, 94, last manager of the Philadelphia Athletics dies
Spook Jacobs: "He's worth $30,000 in the minor leagues!"
Marty Marion, former National League MVP, dies at 93
Duke Snider's Philadelphia grab eclipsed that of Willie Mays in the World Series
Former New York Mets catcher Greg Goossen passes away at 65
Recent Brooklyn Dodger passings - Tony Malinosky, Gino Cimoli, Cliff Dapper
Tony Malinosky,101, former Brooklyn Dodger passes away
George Crowe, 89, former Negro League player and Major League All-Star
Roy Hartsfield, 85, First Manager of the Toronto Blue Jays, 1925-2011
Ryne Duren, 81, 3-time All-Star, 1929-2011

Negro League Alumni

Butch McCord

Bill 'Ready' Cash, veteran of eight Negro League seasons dies at 91
Negro League legend Willie "Curly" Williams left a lasting impact on many
Emilio 'Millito' Navarro, 105, world's oldest living baseball player
Stanley Glenn, 84, Negro League catcher and president
Bill Deck's exciting journey through the Negro Leagues
Butch McCord leaves behind a baseball legacy of a lifetime

Minor League Stars
"Macho Man" Randy Savage remembered by his baseball teammate Tito Landrum
Andres Fleitas, 95, Cuban Baseball Great (1916-2011)
Russell Rac, 81, hit four home runs in one game while with the St. Louis Cardinals organization
Bill Tosheff, first NBA rookie of the year, moonlighted as a strong armed pitcher

Bill Deck

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Dick Williams kindled a special friendship with his lunch crew

As Lou Rodophele went to lunch this week, one seat at the table remained empty. Thursday was the day the “Lunch Bunch” met, and for years without fail, one of baseball’s legendary managers was at the helm of the gathering. This holiday season was a painful reminder that their skipper, Dick Williams, is no longer around to hold court at their weekly get-togethers.

Click here to read the friendship the two kindled as a result of their lunch meeting and the legacy Williams left behind.

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Gil Hodges' Brooklyn Dodger teammates make a pitch for his Hall of Fame honors

The Golden Era Committee meets this weekend in Dallas at the winter baseball meetings to decide the worthiness of ten veterans and executives for Hall of Fame enshrinement. One of those ten candidates is beloved Brooklyn Dodger first baseman and manager of the 1969 New York Mets World Series championship team, Gil Hodges.

During the 15 years he was eligible for the BBWAA vote, Hodges finished as high as third in the voting on three occasions, while the next nine finishing below him (1976, 1977) eventually made the Hall of Fame. Later, various incarnations of the Veterans Committee failed to elect Hodges, while comparable players such as Orlando Cepeda (VC) and Tony Perez (BBWAA) received the call in back-to-back years.

Gil Hodges / Bowman

At the time of his retirement, Hodges’ 370 home runs were the most in the National League by a right-handed hitter. He cemented the clean-up spot in Brooklyn’s lineup, guiding them to their only World Series in 1955. At first base, his glove work was outstanding, winning the Gold Glove during for three straight years after its inception in 1957.

To the small crop of Hodges’ remaining living Brooklyn teammates, his absence from the Hall of Fame remains a mystery. Ed Roebuck, who spent six seasons with Hodges in Brooklyn and Los Angeles, as well as another two playing for him in Washington, is perplexed by his absence.

“It’s unbelievable that Gil Hodges isn’t in," Roebuck said. "Even as a manager, how would you figure the 1969 Mets to beat Baltimore? That in itself should be admission to the Hall of Fame.”

Joe Pignatano, Hodges’ long-time coach with the Washington Senators and the New York Mets, also played five seasons with him in Brooklyn, Los Angeles and New York. Pignatano sees this year’s vote as a mere formality for something that should have been done a long time ago.

“It’s absurd," Pignatano said. "This is something that is long overdue. There isn’t anybody I know that doesn’t speak highly of him.”

Hodges’ tremendous character allowed him to positively impact everyone on the team, from the established veterans, to the newcomers on the block. One such newbie was pitcher Glenn Mickens. In 1953, Mickens was a rookie making the jump to Brooklyn from AA Fort Worth. It was Hodges that welcomed him to the fold.

“[He] made me feel like I belonged there … he was a complete gentleman in every respect,” Mickens said. “I never heard a negative word spoken about Gil Hodges and I don't think that he had an enemy in the world - except maybe those opposing pitchers who couldn't get him out, and theirs wasn't negativity, but actually respect for one of the best to ever play the game.”

Catcher Tim Thompson was another rookie who was a recipient of Hodges’ benevolence. Thompson made the club out of spring training in 1954 and needed a place to stay in Brooklyn. Hodges quickly came to the rescue.

“He was the most human being I ever been around in my life," Thompson said. "When I went to Brooklyn, he said, ‘I have a house for you to rent right beside me so you have somewhere to live.’ He used to pick me up and take me to the ballpark. He was a very good friend of mine.”

On the field, Hodges had a humble approach that resonated with his teammates. They saw him give the same respect to his opponents that he did to those in his own dugout.

“Gil would hit a grand slam and would have his head down all the way around the bases like he felt sorry for the pitcher," Roebuck said. "Now they point in the sky, jump up; so unprofessional! If you did that when I played, you would have been knocked down for sure.”

The newly formed Golden Era committee which is comprised of eight Hall of Famers (one being Hodges’ teammate Tommy Lasorda), five executives and three members of the media, has a tremendous task at hand to pare down the list to one or more candidates that 75% of them agree upon. Hodges’ candidacy has sparked debate for years; however, for Mickens, this vote should close the chapter on an honor Hodges should have received years ago.

“He was an outstanding clutch hitter and his record speaks for itself as far as his being in the Hall of Fame,”  Mickens said. “I believe that his induction is long overdue and it would be a terrible disservice if they pass him up.”

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Gil Hodges' disciples turn up the volume on his Hall of Fame chances

The topic of inductions was a hot item during Thursday night’s Winning Beyond Winning’s 14th annual Gil Hodges Legacy Dinner at the Chateau Briand in Carle Place.

Completing the ceremonial first pitch in front of a crowd of 250-plus supporters, former New York Yankees Frank Tepedino and Rusty Torres accepted their inductions into the Winning Beyond Winning “Winners Circle”.

Mrs. Joan Hodges at the 2011 Gil Hodges Legacy Dinner

Torres, who founded the organization along with attorney Tom Sabellico, helps to educate kids about the dangers of drugs and alcohol, while promoting participation in athletics. Tepedino was one of their first recruits.

“At a time in my life, when I gave up alcohol, Rusty and Tom came into it. Winning Beyond Winning was a blessing,” Tepedino said.

New York Yankees relief pitcher David Robertson and his wife Erin were presented with the Great Americans Award for their community work with their charity High Socks for Hope in their home state of Alabama.

The dinner, which bears the name of the legendary Brooklyn Dodgers first baseman and New York Mets manager, served this year as an impromptu booster party for Hodges’ Hall of Fame candidacy. When Hodges’ wife Joan took the podium for the celebration of her 85th birthday, the buzz circulated about her late husband’s Hall of Fame credentials. Hodges is one of the ten candidates on the newly formed Golden Era ballot to be voted on December 4th in Dallas.

Long time New York Mets shortstop and Long Island Ducks owner Bud Harrelson discussed Hodges’ paternal influence as his manager.

“When I was with him, I felt like I was a son and I think he made a lot of players feel like that,” Harrelson said. “I fell in love with this guy. He was not negative, always positive. … He was just a good man, a family man [with] really solid principles.”

Washington Senators outfielder Fred Valentine, who played under Hodges from 1964-67, also praised  his fallen manager's character. Hodges' treatment brought out his best on the field every day.

“Throughout my whole playing career I think I gave him 100, 110 percent while I was on the field,” Valentine said. “I knew what type of person he was. He was a devoted person, a devoted manager, and he treated all of the players equally well. All of the ballplayers seemed to like the way that he managed.”

Seeing Mrs. Hodges only reinforced his belief that it would happen soon.

“I can’t say enough about Gil Hodges about a manager. I’m just praying as I told Mrs. Hodges [today], that he will make it to the Hall of Fame where he deserves to be.”

Another Hodges disciple, Art Shamsky, felt Hodges' honor is long overdue. He hopes Mrs. Hodges will be alive to experience his induction.

“It’s certainly something that should have been done a number of years ago," Shamsky said. “Especially if you look at his stats against guys like Tony Perez and Orlando Cepeda, it’s very comparable. I’m just not sure why it hasn’t happened before. Hopefully at this point while Mrs. Hodges is around to enjoy some good news, it will happen sooner than later.”

Mrs. Hodges took a rare public moment to reflect on this renewed opportunity for her late husband to gain entry to the Hall of Fame. While she feels he is certainly deserving, their bond is what she cherishes above his Hall of Fame status.

“I’m going to be truthfully, very very honest with you,” Hodges said. “I have never really discussed this … how I feel about him, how over deserving [he is]. If it happens, we’ll be eternally grateful; if not, he’ll be in my heart forever.”

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Ralph Branca: A Moment in Time - Book Review

The essence of a man’s life cannot be captured by any singular event or circumstance. Ralph Branca’s new autobiography A Moment in Time: An American Story of Baseball, Heartbreak and Grace (Scribner, 2011), attempts to quell the notion that his career is summarized by the high-inside fastball he threw to Bobby Thomson on October 3rd, 1951.

Informed by one of his Detroit Tiger teammates in 1954 of the Giants intricate sign-stealing system that included a buzzer system and telescopes, Branca held on to his secret for decades. Battling the burden of bearing the weight of the hopes of an entire city being dashed by one pitch, Branca finally felt that the time was right to illuminate his career after being quiet for so long.

Click here to see video of Branca discussing his new book, as well as to read the entire review.

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Carl Erskine talks sign stealing and the 1951 Giants and Dodgers rivalry

Carl Erskine was one ill-placed curveball from possibly changing the fate of the 1951 playoff between the Brooklyn Dodgers and the New York Giants.

When manager Charlie Dressen checked with his coach Clyde Sukeforth on the status of both Erskine and Ralph Branca to relieve a tiring Don Newcombe, Sukeforth replied, “He [Erskine] just bounced his curveball.” A few pitches later, Bobby Thomson stepped up to the plate and blasted the infamous home run off of Ralph Branca that became widely known as “The Shot Heard ‘Round the World.”


This is Part 5 of a series of interviews with Brooklyn Dodger great Carl Erskine about his experiences playing with the storied franchise. Erskine appeared recently in New York on behalf of the Bob Feller Museum and was kind enough to grant us access to produce this series of vignettes regarding his career.

Much speculation has developed as to whether the Giants were using a sign-stealing system that gave Thomson advanced knowledge of Branca’s inside fastball. Author Joshua Prager drew an admission from the late Giants third-string catcher Sal Yvars in his book, The Echoing Green, that the Giants were indeed relaying pitch information to their hitters. Thomson, however, until the day he died, vehemently denied that he had any knowledge of Branca’s offerings.



Erskine, who has often discussed his recollections of that fateful October day in 1951, didn’t seem to have ill feelings about the issue of sign-stealing 60 years later.

“Well, if you go to that year, ’51, there is no rule that I know of about using a telescope or a set of binoculars to steal signs,” he said. “It’s always assumed that ethically you steal them on the field, second base, or if the catcher is a little sloppy so that the first base can see, or some mannerism that the catcher does every time he calls a curveball his elbow goes out. Other than the ethics involved of mechanically stealing, baseball didn’t have any rule against it.”

That’s not to say that Erskine didn’t have his suspicions about it taking place across the league.

“We used to think Chicago, with that scoreboard in Wrigley Field, where they used to hang the numbers, there are big openings,” he said. “Those guys probably stole signs from the scoreboard; nobody ever checked it.”

Special thanks also goes to the promoters of JP Sports' East Coast National Show for accommodating us during Mr. Erskine's appearance.

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Carl Erskine explains how Roy Campanella helped to stabilize the Brooklyn Dodgers pitching staff

Carl Erskine and Roy Campanella were battery mates for Campanella’s entire ten-year career with the Brooklyn Dodgers. If anyone should know a thing or two about how Campanella handled the pitching staff, it’s Erskine.

Roy Campanella and Carl Erskine

This is Part 4 of a series of interviews with Brooklyn Dodger great Carl Erskine about his experiences playing with the storied franchise. Erskine appeared recently in New York on behalf of the Bob Feller Museum and was kind enough to grant us access to produce this series of vignettes regarding his career.

Campanella wasn’t exactly a rookie when he joined the Dodgers; he had been playing nine years in the Negro Leagues, learning from Hall of Famer Raleigh “Biz” Mackey. For those familiar with Campanella's lineage, it was of little surprise then that Campanella skillfully handled his pitching staff.

“What Campy did more than anything else with the pitching staff, was how he made you pace yourself,” Erskine said. “Pitchers are always overanxious, especially if you have a bad pitch or you throw a home run or something.  You want the ball back, you want to go again; he wouldn’t let you do that, he made you stay within yourself.” Although Campanella should have worn a sign saying, “Thou Shalt Not Steal”, because he threw out 51% of would-be base stealers during his career, it was his mental approach to the game that set him apart from other receivers at the time.

“His savvy ... that’s something you can’t describe; he just had a feel for the game,” Erskine said.

Erskine described how Campanella's "feel" helped to mold on one of the mainstays of Brooklyn’s rotation, Don Newcombe.

“Campy … was great at the mind game,” he said. “What to throw, when to throw it. … He was an easy personality. He helped [Don] Newcombe a lot because Newk was a little volatile and he was one of the early blacks. He had to face a lot of the indignities, same as Jackie [Robinson] did. He wasn’t handling that as well as Jackie probably, so Campy was a real soothing influence on Newcombe.” Campanella’s ability to handle the pitchers was so esteemed, that the coaching staff gave Campanella wide latitude with his charges.

“The manager would basically say to the pitching staff … ‘If you shake Campy off, you better have a good reason,” he said. “He’s been around, he knows what to do; you kinda follow Roy.’ So Roy used to say to the young pitchers. ‘Now you young pitchers, you just throw what ‘Ol Campy calls and I’ll make you a winner!’" Sometimes, Campanella would lead them down a path that was not always victorious. Erskine took the opportunity to remind him that the loss went next to his name, not the catcher after a loss. “So I’d lose a game and I’d bring him a box score,” Erskine said. “His locker was right next to mine. I’d say, 'Hey Campy, look at this! It says Erskine losing pitcher. Shouldn’t that say Campanella, losing catcher?'"

Campanella gave a quick-witted reply.

“Well you would always shake me off!”

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Carl Erskine explains how he composed his curveball in Cuba

On the verge of his 21st birthday, fresh off his first full season in professional ball, Carl Erskine found himself in a place that was in stark contrast from his hometown of Anderson, Indiana.

In the winter of 1947, Erskine was sent to Cuba to play with the Cienfuegos team at the urges of Branch Rickey. Erskine would quickly be introduced to a different climate that had nothing to do with the weather.

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Carl Erskine tells the story of his first major league home run

Nineteen-fifty-five was a banner season in Brooklyn. The Dodgers finally won the pennant, proclaiming themselves bums no more. Johnny Podres shut down the heralded Yankees in Game 7, rightfully placing the champagne on the Brooklyn side of the dugout. Roy Campanella edged out teammate Duke Snider for National League MVP honors. The Dodgers, for once, were the sole kings of New York.

This is Part 1 of a series of interviews with Brooklyn Dodger great Carl Erskine about his experiences playing with the storied franchise. Erskine appeared recently in New York on behalf of the Bob Feller Museum and was kind enough to grant us access to produce this series of vignettes regarding his career.

For pitcher Carl Erskine, 1955 holds a more special distinction in his heart. Every pitcher has dreams of swinging the lumber like their mighty counterparts. The Dodgers lineup was filled with many who could send the ball out of the park in a heartbeat. One June evening that season in Ebbets Field, a well placed fastball allowed him for a night to roll up his sleeves and take one leisurely stroll around the bases.

On the mound was the intimidating “Toothpick” Sam Jones, who earned the nickname because he pitched with a toothpick in his mouth. Known for his deadly curveball, he led the National League in strikeouts during three different seasons.

Just the mention of his name immediately evoked memories of Jones’ hammering curveball.

“Oh nasty, oh nasty! Oh it was one of the toughest!” exclaimed Erskine.



To illustrate just how great Jones’ pitch was, he relayed a story about a matchup Jones had against the aforementioned Campanella.

“Well his curveball was big and it broke late,” he said. “I could remember Campy one game in Chicago. Campy hit in a squat [as Erskine demonstrates Campanella’s stance] and Campy goes down, and he sits down! Strike! You don’t see that in the big leagues. His curveball was big and it was nasty.”

In the bottom of the 5th inning, Erskine stepped to the plate with one out. He didn't want any part of Jones's curveball.

“Sam Jones, he could throw hard; [that’s] probably why I hit it out,” he said. “We had a 6-0 lead at the time [it was actually 1-0, the Dodgers ended up winning 7-0], so it wasn’t like an important run or anything.”

Luckily for him, his first [and only] round-tripper had witnesses.

“I had some friends I left tickets for right behind the dugout,” he said. “So I had plenty of witnesses back in my hometown [to say], ‘Yes he did.’”

So frustrated was Jones for giving up a long ball to the opposing pitcher, Erskine said he did the unthinkable, he got rid of his trademark toothpick!

“What he did that night, when I hit that home run, he threw away his toothpick. As I’m going to first base, he throws it down on the mound.”

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Billy Harris, former Brooklyn Dodger passes away at 80

Billy Harris, former pitcher for the Brooklyn and Los Angeles Dodgers and member of the Canadian Baseball Hall of Fame, passed away Friday night at the age of 80 at his home in Kennewick, Wash.

Billy Harris, 1957 Brooklyn Dodgers

Harris was hospitalized about a month ago for bleeding ulcers after he fainted in his restaurant, Billy’s Bullpen. Discharged from the hospital two weeks ago, Harris never fully recovered from his ailments.

Just a few short months ago in February, I interviewed Harris for a story I authored about his teammate, Clyde Parris. Harris was cheerful and spoke glowingly not only about his Montreal teammate, but his entire career in baseball. Harris drank from the smallest cups of coffee, pitching two games for the Dodgers, one in 1957 and the other in 1959, but for Harris, what a sweet cup it was!

“It was a great feeling to go up there," Harris said during our phone interview in February 2011. "Every time they called me up, I knew the guys from spring training so it was just like meeting old buddies again.”

Harris gained accolades for being one of the early Canadians in the majors. Hailing from Duguayville, N.B., Harris epitomized the pinnacle of achievement for a baseball player from such a small area.

“Billy defined Canadiana. Small town boy makes good,” said Tom Valcke, president & CEO of the Canadian Baseball Hall of Fame in an interview with Kevin Glew of the Canadian Baseball Network.

Harris signed with the Dodgers at the age of 19 in 1951 when he was offered a contract by Bill O’Connor while he was playing hockey. He found immediate success with Class-D Valdosta, posting an 18-9 record with a 2.19 ERA.

He quickly climbed the ladder, skipping two levels to Class-B Miami the following year. During his magical 1952 season, Harris went 25-6 with a minuscule 0.83 ERA, a record for the lowest season ERA for a pitcher in organized ball. 

When asked about his breakout season, Harris remained humble about his achievement.

“I think the record still stands for ERA, 0.83," he said. "I won 25 games and three more in the playoffs which doesn’t count in the standings. I had good defense, but I had good stuff. My fastball was really moving.

“I don’t know it just one of those deals. It was kind of a pitcher’s league but we had a good team behind me. I had Chico Fernandez at short, Dick Gray at third and [Jimmy] Bragan at second base. We had a good outfield that could go get ‘em, so that helped the team. All I had to do was throw the ball over the plate.”

Harris ascended the ranks the following season, playing in AA Fort Worth and Mobile. He spent the next three seasons shuttling between AA and AAA, making brief stops with Montreal in 1954 and 1955 before settling in for good with the Canadian club in 1956.

His previous stops in Montreal while brief, proved to be rather memorable. In 1954, Harris only pitched three games for Montreal, but it gave him enough time to join baseball’s golden child’s Roberto Clemente on the bench for his only season in the Dodger organization. Clemente was being “hidden” by the Dodgers brass that season, being used sparingly with the hopes that another team would not claim him while he waited in AAA.

During one of their conversations on the bench, Clemente revealed to Harris where his next destination would be.

“I remember, we always sat and talked on the bench," he said. "They didn’t play him too much as they tried to hide him as he was up for grabs because he was sent down and made more than a $10,000 bonus. He was sitting there telling me, ‘Billy, next year I go to Pittsburgh.’ I said ‘What do you mean?’ He said, ‘Look up in the stands.’ It was Clyde Sukeforth up there.”

Harris marveled at the talent that was around him in Montreal. Looking back they had enough talent to make a major league team on their own.

“I think we had a team in Montreal that would beat most of the major league teams," he said. "Sparky Anderson was my second baseman. We also had Rocky Nelson, John Roseboro, Clyde Parris, George Shuba, Dick Williams and Chico Fernandez. Those were some great names.”

During the winters in between his forays with the Dodgers minor league clubs, Harris went to the Caribbean to bolster his income and polish his pitching skills. He played six years in winter ball in both Panama and Venezuela.

“The pay was good," he recalled. "You didn’t want to take a real job. I played two years in Panama and four in Venezuela. For two of those years, I played in the Caribbean Series and then I went right to spring training.”

Finally in 1957, after eight years in the minors, Brooklyn reached down and called for Harris to join the major league club. With the reserve clause, all he could do at the time was wait for the call to the show.

“You belonged to the team," he said. "There was no free agency and no union to protect you. I was called up to the Dodgers and they kept me back because Buffalo was fighting for the pennant. The league owner told me I had to stay to pitch against them. I beat Buffalo, I think it cost them the pennant and the next day I went with the Dodgers.

“I pitched the next to the last game of the season in 1957 against the Phillies in Philadelphia. The last game Roy Campanella caught; I pitched that game. I got to know him quite a lot in spring training. I used to hit grounders to the infielders and he would back me up and we had a ball. He was funnier than hell. He was a great guy. He had a nickname for me; he’d call me 'muscles.' I was built kind of strong in those days. Just think next year he would have played in the Coliseum and he would have popped a whole bunch off the porch there.”

Harris was called up again at the end of the 1959 season to relieve the Dodgers pitching staff as they made a run at the World Series. He hurt his arm the following season and wound up playing for Tri-City a few years later, luring him to his Kennewick residence.

“They had a team in Tri-City where I live now," he said. "I didn’t even know where this place was. They needed a coach, so I pitched and coached. My wife was from Montreal and I was from New Brunswick and we decided to live there. We bought a home and I decided to get into this business,” said Harris.

The business he referred to is his sports bar, Billy’s Bullpen in Kennewick.

“I’ve owned this for 25 years. It’s a sports bar, we have a lot of fun here.”

Harris is survived by his wife, Alice, daughter Gail and sons, Billy Jr. and Rick, as well as seven grand children.

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