Sunday, March 29, 2020

Baseball Happenings Podcast | Erik Kratz Interview

On the latest Baseball Happenings Podcast, we present an interview with New York Yankees and Team USA catcher Erik Kratz. The 39-year-old MLB veteran discussed how he is dealing with the 2020 Tokyo Summer Olympics Games postponement as just another speed bump in his well-traveled career.






Tuesday, March 24, 2020

How Baseball Cards Kept One Fan's Baseball Love Affair Flame Lit Long After His Desire To Collect Extinguished

Today's guest author is Bill Thompson from Words Above Replacement. He shares how baseball cards opened the door to a deep love for the game that still runs strong today. 


One Forgotten Detail

When discussing my baseball fandom, there is one critical element I often leave out. I’m not sure why; it’s an important part of my past. I will tell people over and over again the first time I went to Wrigley Field, the first time I heard Harry Caray, or that I realized I loved baseball by going games at Comiskey Park with my uncle. These stories roll off my tongue without hesitation; however, I rarely tell people that baseball cards most influenced my development as a baseball fan.

To this day I can recall going to the store and opening packs of cards. It didn’t matter whether it was Donruss, Topps, or anything in between (truthfully I was more partial to Upper Deck because their cards were always more colorful), I just wanted baseball cards. From the day I opened my first pack, I was hooked. From then on, I spent my money on three things—baseball cards, comic books, and pro wrestling.

There was no better feeling than walking up to the counter at Venture or K-Mart with a handful of packs and knowing I was about to discover more about baseball. The Chicago Cubs and White Sox were known quantities, but the rest of the Major League Baseball landscape was fleeting. My exposure consisted solely of the few days they spent on my television screen while playing one of the two Chicago ballclubs. Baseball cards were the only way I had, at the time, to learn more about the players.

A Trip Into Baseball's Past

Baseball cards were also a conduit to baseball history. I don’t remember the company, but I know early in my collecting life, one of them started including historical players in their packs. Years later, I can’t tell you who the players were, but I can tell you those cards led me to the library to seek out books on baseball history. Historical cards opened my eyes; there was more to baseball than what I could see in the present.

I mainly knew of MLB clubs in my early years. I was going to major market retailers for my packs, which meant I was only getting mainstream offerings. I knew there was a larger baseball world out there; prospect cards made that possible in my mind. Still, knowing Dwight Smith played for the Iowa Cubs didn’t prepare me for what was beyond MLB.

New Collecting Horizons

That all changed when the Venture I frequented suddenly had plastic packs exclusively of minor league cards. I bought as many as I could and dove headfirst into the world of Minor League Baseball. I returned to the library and looked for any books I could find that included the minors in their talks about MLB’s history.


By the mid-1990s, I had binders of baseball cards. They were organized by the team, not by the card company, or year. Talking to other card collectors, I soon realized everyone had their method of storing cards. My method was the correct one, or so I told myself whenever confronted with a different way. Around this time, I recall attending a Schaumburg Flyers game and convincing my uncle to buy me a pack of novelty Flyers cards; the world of unaffiliated baseball was thrust into my lap. I didn’t do much with this new world at first, but over time I used baseball cards as a way to keep track of unaffiliated leagues, teams, and players the best I could before the dawn of the Internet.

Meeting other collectors also took me down a path of self-discovery. For a few years, I thought I needed to have the biggest collection. I gave up pro wrestling and focused all my money on comic books and baseball cards.

An Unexpected Turn

Unfortunately, I also started to steal baseball cards, usually from Venture. I did this unabated for some time until I was finally caught. My obsession with baseball cards led to yet another important moment in my life. While I didn’t spend time in jail, or face any truly harsh consequences beyond a lifetime ban from Venture stores, I learned my actions carried a price. I discovered I didn’t like doing something blatantly illegal, and that having the most cards wasn’t a prize in and unto itself.

Years later, I wish I could tell you I still collect baseball cards. The truth is, I don’t, and my one attempt at getting back into the hobby was neither fruitful nor impactful. Baseball cards don’t play a role in my present-day life; however, baseball cards shaped my baseball fandom and the love I have for the game. Undoubtedly, without these small cardboard treasures, baseball would not have been an easy love affair. They helped me to grow as a fan and a person. While the cards are no longer physically in my possession, their influence is still profound in my heart today.


Sunday, March 22, 2020

Bob Stephenson | Former Oklahoma University And St. Louis Cardinals Infielder Dies At 91

Bob Stephenson was a giant for many, but it had little to do with his professional baseball career. The former St. Louis Cardinals infielder turned oil magnate and philanthropist, died March 20, 2020, in Oklahoma City. He was 91.

Bob Stephenson / Author's Collection
A second-team All-American shortstop at the University of Oklahoma, Stephenson signed with the Cardinals in 1950. He played two seasons in their minor league system before being drafted into the Army in 1952. He served 13 months in the Korean War, putting his baseball career on hold until 1954.

After a full campaign with Triple-A Columbus, the Cardinals gave Stephenson his big break. He broke camp with the team from spring training and spent the entire 1955 season as their utility infielder, spelling Alex Grammas at shortstop and future Hall of Famer Red Schoendienst at second base.

Stephenson batted .243 in 67 games in his lone major league campaign. While he enjoyed the experience, years later, he discussed the unspoken rigors of a nomadic baseball life.

"The average person doesn't have an idea of what that life is like," Stephenson told author Richard Panchyk in Baseball History for Kids: America at Bat from 1900 to Today. "It sounds pretty glamorous, but when you're playing at that time 154 games a year, and you're making 9 or 12 road trips, it gets to the point, at least in my situation, I'd have to almost read the paper every day to see what town I was in because the restaurants all looked the same.

"[You] go through the ballgame, get through about midnight. I would get home, get back to the room about midnight, have a big dinner, go to bed at three o'clock, get up at noon, and repeat it over. At four o'clock, go back to the ballpark."

Eventually, the travel wore on Stephenson, and he retired from baseball in 1957 to put his geology degree to use. He founded the Potts-Stephenson Exploration Company and built his legacy in natural gas and oil exploration.

Late in his career, he scored a major victory when he sued one of the largest gas and oil producers, the ONEOK Resources Company, for an alleged violation of their accounting practices. PSEC sold their controlling interests to ONEOK in 1997; however, Stephenson remained his stake in the company. In 2003, Stephenson won a lengthy court battle against the energy giant.

Throughout his life, Stephenson extended his generosity to the University of Oklahoma. He made significant donations to the OU School of Geology and Geophysics, as well as their athletic programs.

In 2018, Stephenson made a donation to Oklahoma's baseball program towards the $15 million needed to renovate L. Dale Mitchell Park. The amount wasn't publicly disclosed, but it was rumored to be more than $1 million.

"Bob Stephenson is a great Sooner and has always been a tremendous leader for us, especially when it comes to supporting our student-athletes and the resources they need to be successful," Vice President and Director of Athletics Joe Castiglione said in a press release. "He has served as a fundraising catalyst on many occasions, and once again has made a significant donation that gets us moving toward our goal of securing the necessary funds to complete our baseball stadium master plan."






Friday, February 21, 2020

How The Braves Gave One Fan The Baseball Experience Of A Lifetime

Steve Jaronik was nine years old in 1963 when the Milwaukee Braves gave a young kid the experience of a lifetime. Jaronik wrote the Braves asking if he could meet the players from his favorite team. What happened next seems like an impossibility in today's era of teams closely guarding access to their players.

Steve Jaronik with Willie Mays in 1963 at County Stadium
A few months later, Bob Allen, the team's public relations director unexpectedly wrote him a letter with an invitation to the ballpark. He traveled with his family from Illinois, and the Braves took him on a journey that any fan, old or young, would cherish forever. In the video below, Jaronik narrates the entire day's events, which includes meeting multiple Hall of Famers (Hank Aaron, Warren Spahn, Willie Mays) in an emotional play for one's heart.






Saturday, January 11, 2020

Dick Bokelmann | Former 1950s St. Louis Cardinals Pitcher Dies At 93

Dick Bokelmann, a pitcher with the St. Louis Cardinals in the early 1950s, died December 27, 2019, in Arlington Heights, Illinois. He was 93.


Born October 26, 1926, Bokelmann was a star at Arlington High School. He went on to Northwestern University, where the Cardinals signed the pitching star from the Arlington Heights sandlots in 1947.

“After I got out of Northwestern [a scout] showed up at a semi-pro game one day and asked me if I was interested in signing,” Bokelmann said during a 2009 phone interview from his Arlington Heights home. “I had been in touch with the Cubs for a few years, but it didn't work out, so I signed with the Rochester Red Wings. I signed a Triple A contract. I then went to Toronto to meet the team and I was only there a week [before I] was sent to Fresno.”

Bokelmann’s major league journey started on the West Coast, far from his Windy City origins. He was quickly introduced to the follies of minor league life.

“I remember joining them in Bakersfield," he said. "Our manager was a catcher but wasn't on our active roster. Our catcher slid into home plate headfirst and got a concussion. We didn't have another catcher. We had a little 5'6” left-handed first baseman. Someone else went back there, I think one of our pitchers, and he couldn't see well without his glasses. Gosh about after two pitches went back to the screen, they brought the first baseman in left-handed, and he caught the rest of the game. I thought, ‘This is professional baseball?’ It was quite different.”

Weathering his rookie season, Bokelmann returned home armed with newfound riches, ready to make a move that would greatly impact his career. He married his sweetheart Dolores Hogreve, a union that lasted 71 years until her March 2019 death.

“I went home and got married,” he said. “I was making a big $250 per month, pretty extraordinary when I think back at that time. I got a big $50 raise for the next year and made $300!”

Bokelmann went 15-11 with a 2.82 ERA at Class B Allentown in 1948. For the next three years, he moved between their Double A and Triple A affiliates in Houston and Rochester.

Finally, in 1951, everything clicked under manager Al Hollingsworth’s watchful eyes in Houston.

“I had a really good year in Houston,” he said. “That year, I started as a starting pitcher and went on a trip to Panama. I pitched good ball down there until the Cardinals came through from spring training and they dropped off Vinegar Bend Mizell, Mike Clark, and Fred Martin. I found myself in the bullpen and it worked out to my advantage. I ended up with a 10-2 record and a 0.74 ERA.

"Every night, it was like 3-2, 2-1, 4-3, so I was up in the bullpen almost every night. It was entirely different; you weren't a one-inning closer back then. I even started a couple of ballgames for Houston that year. I could pitch five-to-six innings without a problem and I even threw a complete game. We would either be ahead or behind by a run and I'd get credit for a win.”

With Boklemann pitching lights out at Houston, the Cardinals took notice. On August 1st, 1951, he finally got the call to the majors. Cardinals manager Marty Marion wasted little time putting him to the test.

“When I got up to the Cardinals, they pitched me the first three days I was there,” he recalled. “The first night I saved a game for Harry Brecheen. The next two days I pitched, I didn't give up any hits; I had the bases loaded for one, gave up no hits, and nobody scored.”

After a failed attempt as a starter, Bokelmann settled into a comfortable bullpen role. He suffered a few early losses but then responded with three wins in one week.

“[Marty] Marion then decided to start me against the Cubs, and that didn't go very well,” he said. “A couple plays screwed up. Nippy Jones and I couldn't get together on a ball up the first base line, and it kind of snowballed from there.

“I went back to the bullpen. I later won three games in a week. We were in Pittsburgh; I gave up no runs in [4 2/3] innings and only one hit. On the third day, I gave up one run in [5 2/3] innings and only one hit. The next week we were home against the Giants, and I picked up another win. I went into the game and I think I pitched about five innings. We ended up winning the game, and I got credit for the win even though I went in with a 6-0 lead. That's how they work out. That's all I got; those three!”

For the next two seasons, Bokelmann shuttled between St. Louis and the minors, making 14 appearances for the Cardinals in 1952 and 1953. The Cardinals sold his contract to the Reds in 1954. Back home in the Texas League with Tulsa, he went 10-4 with a 1.80 ERA. Despite his stellar performance, he saw the unfortunate writing on the wall when the Reds kept him in the minor leagues.

“In 1954, I came home, I was about to be 28, my little girl was six, and my boy was three; I decided I had it,” he said. “I had my shot up there. I wasn't going to make it up there anymore, so I decided to quit.”

In an ironic twist shortly after deciding to hang it up, Bokelmann discovered his services were still in demand. His phone rang with an offer he waited for his entire career.

“The odd thing was, I always wanted to play winter baseball someplace,” he said. “Our manager Joe Schulz managed in Puerto Rico. No sooner than I got home and got a job with Prudential Life Insurance, he called me to come to Puerto Rico to play ball.”

He passed on the offer, turning his attention towards his family. He worked at Prudential for 30 years until his retirement.

According to his daughter, Bokelmann received autograph requests until three days before he died. In 2009, he recalled how Topps reprinting his 1953 rookie card led to a 25-year mail stream.

“About 15 years ago, I got a letter from Topps that they were going to reprint the 1953 series and they gave me a few bucks,” he said. “I now get requests every day. Sometimes I get ten of them. They must be trading them to other people. They get three of mine for one of someone else because I don't know how they get ten of them.”

Reflecting on the stark financial difference between his generation and current MLB stars, he pointed to how fellow Cardinals alum Curt Flood helped baseball players become millionaires when he challenged the reserve clause.

“The Cardinals had so many minor league teams, you kind of had to work your way up through them,” he said “There were good ballplayers especially in the Cardinals [system] that had to stay in the minors, especially in Columbus. Besides that, you had the reserve clause in the contracts, and that killed you.

"Until Curt Flood started the suit, you were done. The year I played in 1951, I had signed the minimum contract. The next year I got my letter from the owner for $5,000. By today's standards, going 3-3 in two months, I would have probably got a big raise today. I had to fight to get $500 more. If he didn't want to give it to me, I had to stay home. I couldn't go anyplace, I was locked in. That's how baseball was until 1973 when the contracts went out of sight. I wonder sometimes how much players like [Stan] Musial who was getting $75,000, which was big money back then, would have made now.”