Showing posts with label Jimmy Piersall. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jimmy Piersall. Show all posts

Monday, June 5, 2017

Teammates tout Jimmy Piersall's transcendental outfield abilities

“The catches Piersall makes simply defy description. They have to be seen to be believed and he keeps making them,” Lou Boudreau.
Those who watched Jimmy Piersall patrol the outfield for the Boston Red Sox in the 1950s, placed his name above lauded fly chasers such Tris Speaker, Terry Moore, Joe DiMaggio, and yes, Willie Mays. The daring depths at which he played allowed for Piersall to make miraculous catches that were deemed impossible by everyone in the ballpark, except himself.

While his legendary defensive efforts were overshadowed by his struggles with his mental health and unpredictable on field behavior, there was no denying that Piersall’s glove was where many sure hits in the expansive ballparks of his era went to rest. Sadly, on Sunday June 3rd, 2017, Piersall too met his final resting place in Wheaton, Illinois. He was 87.

Piersall was signed by the Red Sox in 1948, and immediately made an impact for their Class A team in Scranton, Pennsylvania. Usually most rookies fresh out of high school were sent to lower classifications, but one Scranton teammate saw why Boston put him on the fast track to the major leagues.

“Jim joined us about 30 days late in 1948,” teammate Harley Hisner recalled in 2008. “He was in high school and his team was in the high school finals. They signed him and sent him to Scranton. He was only 18 years old, but he was the best curve ball hitter I’d ever seen that young.”

The oddly shaped outfields of minor league parks gave Piersall the room he needed to show off his spectacular defensive abilities. After spending three seasons with Piersall in Scranton and Louisville, Hisner held him in higher esteem than his famous New York contemporaries.

“As far as I am concerned there was nobody that can go get a ball better than him, including Mickey Mantle and Willie Mays," Hisner said. "He had a sense of where that ball was going; as soon as it was hit, he was off and running. I’d take him any day.”

When the Red Sox finally brought Piersall up for good in 1952 after a quick look in 1950, manager Lou Boudreau envisioned Piersall’s athleticism serving him best at short stop. The toll that the demands of learning a new position wore heavily on Piersall, which led in part to his well publicized nervous breakdown.

Ted Lepcio was one of Boston’s fresh faced infielders in 1952 and was quickly paired with Piersall as their double play combination of the future. He found Piersall conflicted by playing a position that he had little familiarity with in order to meet management’s demands.

“He was supposed to help me out,” the 87-year-old Lepcio said via telephone from his home in Needham, Massachusetts shortly after Piersall’s passing. “Imagine that, a center fielder going to help me out! That was a joke. He told me personally that he didn’t want to do it, but what are you going to do when you are a young kid and the guy says you’re going to play a position. He knew he wasn’t in the right position.”

Piersall, Lepcio, Boudreau and Dick Brodowski / Boston Public Library
Piersall's recovery was well documented in his autobiography, "Fear Strikes Out," which later became a Hollywood movie with Anthony Perkins. Lepcio was Piersall’s roommate and the two developed a close relationship throughout Piersall’s struggles. When Piersall finally returned to the team from being hospitalized, Lepcio’s locker was the first reporters ran to.

“He didn’t go in there for a joke, he was wound tight and finally had to have some help at the time he went in,” Lepcio said. “When he came out, the first thing was the reporters came to me. I said, ‘He was the same Jimmy to me.’ It was kind of meant as a joke, but he improved. We roomed together for almost two years until we had enough of each other.”

Ike DeLock also broke in with Piersall and Lepcio in 1952, serving as a reliever on a veteran pitching staff. He said that Piersall had a fascination with besting Tris Speaker’s record for unassisted double plays by a center fielder. As a young pitcher, he was always worried that Piersall was going to get beat behind him by a fly ball.

“He always wanted to have a double play unassisted,” the 88-year-old Delock said Sunday from his home in Naples, Florida. “I told him, ‘Jimmy, when I’m pitching, you play deep in center field because I don’t want anybody to hit the ball over your head.’”

I had the opportunity to speak with Piersall in 2008 over the phone from his home in Wheaton. He explained how he learned to play such a shallow center field, one that is rarely seen anymore in the major leagues.

“It was 500 feet to centerfield in Louisville, the biggest centerfield in the world,” he said. “Most of the time, I cut it in half. Most balls are hit in front of you, not over your head. Watch how many broken bats go out into left field.”

Piersall’s made his presence known in baseball after he was moved permanently to the outfield in 1953. His knack for the spectacular led author Jason Aronoff in his book, “Going, Going … Caught,” to rate Piersall as the best defensive major league outfielder that year.

“In 1953 Jimmy Piersall had a fielding year which was brilliant from start to finish,” Aronoff said. “He had a number of catches which veteran observers called the greatest they had ever seen.”

While Piersall continued to make plays throughout his career on balls that were foregone as home runs or extra base hits, none came close to his series of thefts in 1953. Fast forward a decade later, Piersall found his way to the New York Mets via the Washington Senators in a trade for Gil Hodges.

While the lowly Mets thought that Piersall could recapture some of his Boston magic, he made noise not for his outstanding play on the field, but his outlandish response after he hit his 100th career home run against the Philadelphia Phillies in the Polo Grounds.

Tim Harkness had just arrived from the Los Angeles Dodgers and had reveled in the presence of his veteran teammates, including the newly arrived Piersall. He noted a conversation in the clubhouse between Piersall and Duke Snider that occurred shortly after Snider hit his 400th career home run.

“Duke hit his 400th home run that summer and Piersall said to him, ‘You know, I’ve got 99, when I hit my 100th, the whole world is gonna hear about it,’” the 79-year-old Harkness recalled from his Ontario home on Sunday.
Piersall goes backwards for 100th home run / Author's Collection
As luck would have it, Harkness was hitting behind Piersall when he hit his infamous home run where he rounded the bases backwards. Harkness was immortalized in the photo, waiting on deck in his number three jersey as Piersall approached the plate. He recounted the event as it unfolded in front of him in the on-deck circle.

“He hit one of those Chinese home runs in the old Polo Grounds,” he said. “He hit it about 285 feet. When he got to first base, he turned around and started running backwards. When he rounded third, I said to myself, ‘Should I kick him in the ass?’ When he came to the plate, I just stood there with the bat just like a statue and just watched him do it. As soon as he touched home plate, the umpire said, “Home run and you’re gone!” He threw him out of the ballgame for making a travesty of the game so to speak.”

Piersall was shortly thereafter released by the New York Mets. He didn’t hold back about his feelings for the organization when asked about the closing ceremonies of Shea Stadium in 2008.

“I don't give a s—t,” he replied.

He finished his 17-year major league career with the Los Angeles and California Angels in 1967. He later was in the spotlight for his controversial comments as a White Sox broadcaster that led to his firing and spawned his book, “The Truth Hurts.”

During our conversation in 2008, Piersall displayed his candor when discussing the prevalent ticket prices at major league stadiums. As both New York teams were moving towards new stadium, he felt that the outrageous prices were driven by the owners.

“Two-hundred-fifty dollar a seat in Yankee Stadium ... the only problem we have are politicians,” he said. “The message never seems to get to those guys. It was $2.50 for the bleachers and $6 for a good seat. Everyone is saying that the players are making too much money, but the owners aren't going bankrupt. ... They could get rid of those 40 guys in the offices that send out postcards. They could cut down on their expense accounts, but it won't happen.”

As we came to the close of our interview, Piersall left me with this gem that was reminiscent of the old school mentality that is long gone from today’s game, as the league has become more conscious of the protecting their on-field product.

“I got drilled one day and I said to the pitcher, ‘If you don't get that guy, I'll drop the ball with the bases loaded.’ I asked the umpires why they're so tough and the owners said they don't want their players getting hurt. Bob Watson said the owners are afraid the good players are going to get hurt. There aren't that many good players; they're decent players.”

Monday, January 16, 2012

Al Van Alstyne, 84, followed in the family baseball tradition

Al Van Alstyne found himself in spring training with the Red Sox in 1952 surrounded by their 15 best prospects, all trying to fill the void of Ted Williams pending leave for active duty in the Korean War. The Red Sox paraded 14 different players to the outfield after Williams departed for service at the end of April; unfortunately, Van Alstyne wasn’t one of them.

Al Van Alsytne

Van Alstyne passed away January 5th at the age of 84 after suffering from a long bout with cancer. He grew up in a baseball household, as his father Clayton Sr. pitched for the Washington Senators and his brother Clayton Jr. was an infielder in the Pirates organization. [Note: His father hit his only home run in his last major league at-bat, one of only 43 major leaguers to accomplish this feat.]

His father's baseball connections opened the door for his signing with the Boston Red Sox in 1950 from St. Lawrence University.

“My dad played in Washington with Joe Cronin, and he was with me the day I signed in Boston, as Joe was the general manager there,” said Van Alstyne in a 2009 phone interview I conducted with him.

He reported to Scranton of the Eastern League a month late after breaking his thumb playing ball right after he signed with Boston. His brother Clayton was playing for the Albany Senators which gave him the opportunity to fulfill a childhood dream, to face his sibling in pro ball.

“I played against him my first year in Scranton, that was his last year. It was very enjoyable,” he said.

Van Alstyne earned his first of three invites to spring training in 1952 after having an All-Star season with Class C San Jose in 1951. Surrounded by a combination of established veterans and a volume of upstarts such as Jimmy Piersall, Gene Stephens, Tom Umphlett, and Bob DiPietro, there just wasn’t room for Van Alstyne to crack the big league roster.

“One of the reasons I signed with the Red Sox was that I saw guys were getting old, but they stayed on," he said. "I was just a rookie and I was competing with Williams, [Dom] DiMaggio and [Jackie] Jensen, not to mention Piersall, and Clyde Vollmer.” 

The opportunity to spend time with Williams during spring training allowed Van Alstyne to have a first hand view of what made him so special.

“Williams was the greatest hitter I ever saw," he said. "He was dedicated to his hitting. I don’t care where he was; he was always talking about it and demonstrating to the point where I thought sawdust was coming out of the bat.” 

He recalled a spring training game where Williams displayed his great attention to detail in what was an otherwise meaningless game.

“We were playing the Yankees in St. Petersburg one day," he recalled. "He was on the bench and I was playing center field. When he was called up to pinch hit, he asked all of the guys what the new pitcher threw, what his best pitch was, etc. He was a real student of the game … he was the ultimate.”

Van Alstyne played in the Red Sox organization through 1955 and then was purchased by the Yankees. He spent one year with their AAA team and retired after facing the task of supplanting another legend, Mickey Mantle.

“I was behind Mantle in center field and we didn’t have free agency, so that was it,” he stated.

After baseball, Van Alstyne went into financial planning for Connecticut Sigma and was inducted in to the St. Lawrence Hall of Fame in 2003 for baseball and basketball.

Even thought he came up short with his attempts to get even a cup of coffee in the majors, Van Alstyne was without regrets.

“It was a great seven years I had with great people.”

More Info -

Al Van Alstyne pictured with Guy Morton in 1954 Red Sox spring training - Tuscaloosa News

Van Alstyne figures prominently in Red Sox win - Daytona Beach Morning News

Saturday, May 21, 2011

'Macho Man' Randy Savage's Baseball Teammate Tito Landrum Shares How They Chased MLB Stardom

Before there was a "Macho Man," Randy Savage was known better as Randy Poffo, an aspiring baseball player beating the bushes trying to get to the major leagues. Poffo was an outfielder, catcher, and first baseman in the St. Louis Cardinals and Cincinnati Reds organizations from 1971-1974.

The former WWF and WCW World Champion died tragically on Friday, May 20, 2011, in an auto accident in Florida. He was a beloved figure in the arena of professional wrestling, known for his trademark "Oooh yeah!" that he would exclaim during his colorful interviews.

Tito Landrum & 1973 Orangeburg Cardinals Program
Playing for the Orangeburg Cardinals in 1973, the 20-year-old Savage was a teammate of a fresh faced rookie outfielder, Tito Landrum, playing together under the tutileage of Jimmy Piersall. Landrum enjoyed a nine-year career in the majors, winning a World Series with the Baltimore Orioles in 1983 and appeared in the 1985 World Series filling in brilliantly for an injured Vince Coleman.

Landrum, during an interview from his physical therapy practice Friday evening, recalled Poffo showing off his wrestling skills while he was still active as a ballplayer.

"We actually played a little bit in St. Petersburg and that's when I remember coming in the clubhouse and him making these mock rings," Landrum said. "He would get in there with some of the other players and they would do these little wrestling choreographed shows for us and it was always quite entertaining."

While Poffo wasn't a surefire prospect, Landrum remembered the same spirit that he displayed on the field that followed him into his long career as a wrestler.

"Randy was a very intense individual in baseball," he said. "I remember Randy being pretty good offensively and defensively. We just had some guys in front of him that he wasn't going to move anywhere. He didn't have the best athletic ability, but he certainly had the most qualified heart that I've ever seen. He just knew he was going to make it big somehow, someway. Of course he didn't make it in baseball, [but] he saw another avenue and he made it."

Landrum relayed another story about his travels with Poffo in the minor leagues. The two were roommates and would jokingly dispute about who owed for last month's rent.

"We actually roomed together in Orangeburg and every time we saw each other, we'd always in front of friends make a big deal about who owed who for the last month's rent," he recalled. "To be honest with you, right down to this day I couldn't tell you if I owed the last month's rent or he owed the last month's rent. I got moved up so I probably owed him, so we'd always make a joke of that."

Years later, Landrum had the opportunity to see Poffo perform at the peak of his wrestling career live and in person. There was one problem, Landrum didn't know of Poffo's Macho Man persona.

"Of course we moved on and all of a sudden one day I got this message to see him at a wrestling match," he said. "I was like, Who is this 'Macho Man?' I didnt know any 'Macho Man.' Then they told me it was Randy Poffo! I just had to go see Randy, so we hooked up there."

Watching Poffo as a professional in his second life as a wrestler left Landrum with wonderful memories of his former teammate. He relished the thought of Poffo's performances.

"Living here in New York I used to go and watch Raw," he said. "He'd leave me tickets and I'd go down there and I was always laughing. I'd tell him, 'I've got more teeth in my mouth than the entire front row Randy!' We had some great times."

Friday, July 24, 2009

Book Review: Going, Going ... Caught! by Jason Aronoff

"Going, Going ... Caught! - Baseball's great outfield catches as described by those who saw them, 1887-1964"

Jason Aronoff
McFarland Publishing, 2009
266 pages

On the heels of Dewayne Wise's leaping catch during Mark Buehrle's perfect game, it's only appropriate that I present a book detailing the greatest outfield catches in Major League Baseball's history.

"Going, Going ... Caught!" was originally recommended to me by former Brooklyn Dodger outfielder Don Thompson as he attempted to describe Duke Snider's nearly impossible catch of Willie "Puddin Head" Jones' smash in Philadelphia on Memorial Day of 1954. Thompson should know a thing or two about Snider's climb up the wall that day; he was standing next to Snider when he did the seemingly impossible, digging his spikes into the outfield fence after sprinting into the depths of left-center only to throw his glove hand above his head and across his body for the catch as he collided with the wall. While Aronoff provides an illustration recreating the catch, there are no actual photographs of his theatrics available. This goes for about 95% of the other catches mentioned in the book. All we have left of these grabs are the accounts from the sportswriters and players who saw them. These accounts are what make this book special. You are transported back to a time when mass media didn't cover baseball and left you to create your own picture of a great center fielder chasing down a ball that seems way out of his reach.

Aronoff has done painstaking research to uncover multiple sources detailing catches that the writers at the time described as the "best ever." There is great detail given to the dimensions of old ballparks and how their cavernous reaches allowed for these players to catch up to balls that everyone in the crowd thought were going to fall in for extra-base hits.. Unlike modern stadiums, outfielders had to travel farther distances and contend with unpadded wooden and concrete walls to haul in shots hit into the far reaches of the ballpark.

While "Going, Going, Caught!" is well researched, the reader is bogged down with redundant accounts of the same catch, and multiple catches made by the same player that were "very good" but not great. Aronoff could have condensed the accounts he relayed in order to make it more digestible. It may be a bit too intense for the casual baseball reader, or those not familiar with the players of yesteryear.

However, Aronoff's book not only further enlivens the debate between Mantle, Snider and Mays, it also brings up fielding stars that time has forgotten, such as Jimmy Piersall, Terry Moore, Jigger Statz, Dode Paskert, Bill Lange, and baseball's earliest deaf player, "Dummy" Hoy. It may even make you question your beliefs of who is the greatest outfielder of all time. While their Hall of Fame contemporaries of Keeler, Cobb, Speaker, and DiMaggio are all profiled at one point, it's the exploits of the lesser known aforementioned players that make "Going, Going ... Caught" run.