A TALE OF THREE CITIES: NEW YORK, L.A. AND SAN FRANCISCO IN OCTOBER OF ‘62 (17 page)

Maris suggested that Mantle move into his place in
Queens, where he roomed with Bob Cerv and had an extra room. Mantle
resisted at first but decided to re-dedicate himself. Living with
Maris, he slept more, drank less, and ate Roger’s home cooking. The
two found further common bond, and went on a tear. By August, both
men were making a serious run at Babe Ruth’s all-time single-season
home run record of 60, set in 1927.

An odd dynamic played itself out. Mantle, considered
a slight underachiever after his consecutive MVPs of 1956-57;
blamed for some post-season failures despite one of the game’s
greatest October records; became a fan favorite because of the
contrast with Roger Maris. The fans chose to anoint hero worship
status to Mantle, favoring him over his teammate to break Ruth’s
total.

With both players passing the 50-home run mark and
well on pace towards 60, Mantle came down with the flu. Broadcaster
Mel Allen suggested his personal physician, a quack named Max
Jacobsen who supplied Marilyn Monroe, John F. Kennedy and other
celebrities with “feel good” drugs that were barely disguised
narcotics. Amazingly, the needle the doctor used to inject the
medicine into Mantle’s side was infected. A huge abscess developed;
a horrible, puss-filled sore that sidelined Mantle for a key
period. Mick missed so many games that he lost his chance at the
record, settling for a career-high 54 homers to go along with a
.317 average and 132 runs batted in.

New York won 109 games, beating out a strong Detroit
club to capture the American League championship. They blasted the
overwhelmed Cincinnati Reds in a five-game World Series,
establishing themselves as one of the greatest teams in baseball
history.

For the second straight season, Mantle was beaten
out for the MVP award by Maris, a fine player whose overall
statistics, talent and accomplishments were not of Hall of Fame
level and certainly did not match Mick’s. But re-capturing the
World Series after a two-year “drought” made everybody happy.
Mantle was now at the height of his fame and status as a true New
York Sports Icon, that most rarefied of athletic figures; a
position in American and world society that surpasses Hollywood
celebrity. Only such world figures as war heroes, astronauts and
political giants shone brighter.

Roger Maris was supposed to have been overshadowed by
Mickey Mantle, but he beat out his heralded teammate for the MVP
award two years in a row. It was Maris who broke Ruth’s record, not
Mantle. Few if any players brought more grief upon themselves for
doing something spectacular than Roger Maris. In light of today’s
steroid-induced statistics, the way Maris was treated is viewed as
unconscionable.

Maris was born in Hibbing, Minnesota, the hometown of
rock legend Bob Dylan, in 1934. He grew up in Fargo, North Dakota.
Few great athletes have come from North Dakota. Maris is by far the
best. He was a fantastic all-around athlete. In the small town
atmosphere of Fargo, facing country competition, Maris was a man
among boys; his legendary feats on the football and baseball field
inspiring awe among the locals.

Maris was fast. He ran kicks back for touchdowns in
football and hit majestic high school home runs. He was recruited
by college football programs like Mantle had been, but chose
professional baseball, coming up with Cleveland in 1957 at the age
of 22. He was six-feet tall and weighed about 200 pounds. Maris was
a first class defensive right fielder with a strong, accurate arm.
A right-handed thrower and left-handed batter, he was a dead-pull,
line drive hitter with power. In the days before weights, he had
tight, muscular arms; not the kind of massive upper body strength
Mantle possessed, but explosive, quick.

In 1958 Maris was traded from Cleveland to Kansas
City. He hit an impressive 28 home runs for both clubs. The A’s had
been a mainstay in Philadelphia for decades under legendary
owner-manager Connie Mack, but the old man retired and quickly
passed away. Under subsequent management, the A’s became a virtual
Yankees “farm club.” They developed prospects and then sold them to
New York. By the late 1950s it was a joke.

The Maris trade was the “last straw.” In 1958 and
1959, rumors spread that Maris’s trade from the Indians to the A’s
had been organized by the Yankees in order to ease his transition
to the Big Apple. The Indians could not outright trade a star to
their greatest rivals at a time in which they were yearly
contenders. In 1959, New York struggled to a 79-75 finish, in third
place well behind Chicago and Cleveland. The press found plenty to
blame: Casey Stengel, who fell asleep during games; Mantle, who
batted .265 with 75 RBIs; or the general nature of the club,
seemingly more interested in the post-game party than on-field
success.

Weiss had his eye on Maris, who was a reasonable home
run threat normally, but whose dead-pull left-handed swing was made
for the short, 290-foot right field line at Yankee Stadium. More
importantly, however, was Maris’s attitude. He was a grinder, a
hard worker. The Yankees were becoming a country club, blinded by
New York’s bright lights. A happily married Christian fella was
just what the doctor ordered. On December 11, 1959, the trade was
effectuated. Hard-livin’ Hank Bauer, one of the players involved in
the infamous Copa brawl, was dealt to K.C. along with Don Larsen,
the perfect game ace whose nocturnal activities hurt his cause.
Over-the-hill Joe DeMaestri, prospect Norm Siebern and
little-regarded Kent Hadley were also dealt to the Athletics.

Bob Cerv, an unassuming Midwesterner who fit the new
mold, came shortly thereafter and roomed with Maris. The league
immediately cried foul. Roger had been leading the American League
in hitting in May of 1959 before having his appendix removed. White
Sox owner Bill Veeck and Cleveland general manager Frank “Trader”
exchanged barbs. Lane was roundly criticized for negotiating a
Maris trade that had opened the door for his arrival in New York.
Weiss made it clear that the Maris trade was meant to shake up the
club, and punctuated that statement by cutting salaries across the
board. Mantle held out and finally signed with a $7,000 cut. Weiss
originally wanted to reduce Mick’s pay for $17,000. The salary
cuts, while not directly attributable to Maris’s presence, were
still seen as a message to the club. He was part of that message.
Mantle did not resent Maris. He was happy to have another bat in
the line-up, but the press read into the situation, looking for
controversy.

On Opening Day, 1960 Maris announced his presence
with authority, going four-for-five from the leadoff position in an
8-4 win over Ted Williams and Boston. His short left-handed stroke
soon began delivering line drive homers down the right field line
at the Stadium, and he was moved into a power slot in the order.
Mantle and Maris protected each other in the order. Mantle
delivered as in past days.

Stengel turned 70 on August 1, with New York in
second place behind Chicago, one and a half games back. On August
23 the White Sox arrived at Yankee Stadium for a bizarre two-game
series. Fidel Castro’s Communist takeover of Cuba dominated the
politics of the day, and anti-Castro protestors stormed the field
with counter-revolutionary banners. As if to assert their
dominance, which always mirrored American global hegemony, the
Yankees went on an eight-game tear. Their 97-57 mark was eight
games better than second place Baltimore.

Maris earned the MVP award with 39 home runs and 112
runs batted in. He hit two homers in the World Series loss to
Pittsburgh. His home run total, while impressive, had been
shortened by cracked ribs he suffered after having hit 25 through
June 30. Maris’s early-season home run production prompted
New
York Daily News
sportswriter Joe Trimble to write an article
speculating on the chances of breaking Ruth’s hallowed mark.

Trimble said that Ruth’s 17 September 1960 home runs
made the early pace immaterial, and that the best chance among
sluggers of the era were among Mantle, Mays, Eddie Mathews, Ernie
Banks, and Harmon Killebrew. But Yankees broadcaster Phil Rizzuto
said Maris, with his pull-hitting power at Yankee Stadium, had the
best opportunity.

New York's three victories over Pittsburgh in the
1960 World Series came by football scores of 16-3, 10-0 and 12-0,
but the Bucs eked out wins in the other games, including a
dramatic, comeback 10-9 seventh game win at Forbes Field when Bill
Mazeroski slammed a walk-off home run. The seven-game loss to the
Pirates led to profound change beginning in 1961. The “Ol’
Perfessor” was history. Stengel was fired along with George Weiss.
Both ended up with the fledgling New York Mets. 58-year old Roy
Hamey replaced Weiss.

The Series defeat also spurred Maris, Mantle, Ford
and the Yankees to great heights in 1961 under new manager Ralph
Houk. With two first-year teams – the Los Angeles Angels and
Washington Senators - added to the American League in 1961, the
schedule expanded from 154 to 162 games. The creation of two extra
clubs diluted the talent base, particularly among pitching staffs.
Commissioner Ford C. Frick was based in New York, and sided with
the Yankees. He had not favored the creation of the Mets, but
political elements made their formation inevitable. Frick was a
traditionalist who walked a fine line. On the one hand, he presided
over profound changes in the game in terms of expansion of teams,
schedule and geography, but he also resisted change.

The Yankees got off to a slow start in 1961, but
adjusted to Houk. He had played with many of them and despite his
gruff military demeanor was more personable in his relations with
the players than Stengel had been. He also instituted a set
line-up, which went over well with regulars. Stengel had constantly
platooned, shifting roster spots via trades and minor league
call-ups.

Beginning on May 17, Maris went on a tear, hitting
23 homers in 36 games. Early in the season, Houk switched Maris
from clean up to third. The move could have engendered animosity
from Mantle, for the beneficiary was Roger, but Mickey was a team
player who was willing to do anything as long as it “helps the ball
club.” Mantle continued to protect Maris, who got many pitches to
hit, but he also got hot and stayed hot, matching his “M&M”
partner longball for longball.

As the summer approached the fall, talk of Mantle’s
and Maris’s chase of Ruth heated up. The comparisons with 1927 were
convoluted. In 1927, Ruth was the greatest sports hero in all of
American history. Nobody today can truly relate to his place in the
pantheon. No current sports star, no matter how great, approaches
Ruth’s revolutionary place as an athlete or celebrity.

But it goes beyond that. One could argue that,
through the travails of man, no country has ever grown, prospered
and exploded as American did in the “Roaring ‘20s.” Having won
World War I, the United States entered a period of
hubris
,
prosperity and excess never seen at least since Rome’s “bread and
circuses.” They took to sports with unadulterated fervor. With no
television and radio a nascent technology, sportswriters were the
new heralds, as in the golden throats who informed Romans of
Caesar’s latest victory, or astounding events in the Colosseum.
These writers painted a vivid picture of Ruthian glory.

The country went through two startling decades of
Depression and war, with all the profound changes therein. The
1950s resembled the 1920s in that the U.S. now stood on top of the
world, the ultimate global powerhouse. Life was seemingly idyllic.
The American Way was an unchallenged notion.

But by 1961, there were fissures. The Cold War had
reached its height. Half the world opposed us. The threat of
nuclear war, of World War III, hung in the air. The Central
Intelligence Agency was a shadowy arm of American power, with
uneasy repercussions. The Bay of Pigs was its first known failure.
Civil rights was now an issue. The media was skeptical. Television
changed the nature of the news and entertainment business.
Hollywood was turning to the Left. Furthermore, the old Dodgers'
and Giants' writers now covered the Yankees. This meant that the
Yankee Stadium clubhouse resembled a madhouse. Beyond that, many of
these new scribes had no love for the Yankees.

When Maris assaulted Ruth’s record, he found
unfriendly elements among the fans and writers. He was not "worthy"
of Ruth’s greatness. Mantle was better, worthier. The expanded
schedule made records less consequential. Maris maintained a better
pace than Ruth heading into September, but it was generally felt to
be of little importance. Ruth had hit 17 home runs in September to
break his own previous record of 59 homers. Maris would not be able
to match that.

Maris handled the home run chase poorly. So did
everybody else, except for Mantle and his teammates. The chase made
competitors out of Mickey and Roger, but this was natural and
healthy. They continued to be friends who rooted for each other to
the benefit of the team. In truth, Mick’s popularity made him the
favorite among the Yankees. Pitcher Whitey Ford, his best friend on
the team, admitted rooting a little harder for Mantle, but insisted
he liked Maris, respected him and wanted him to get it. The
consensus was that teammates wanted
both players
to catch
the Babe.

This was not the case with the press or fans. They
preferred Mantle and were clear about it. The Yankees’ front office
tried to steer clear of the controversy, but it was natural that
Mantle, their longtime superstar, was favored. Frick, the
traditionalist, preferred Mantle to Maris, but in truth wanted
neither to pass the hallowed Ruth, especially not amid the question
of expansion and attendant dilution of the product.

But Maris did himself no favors. He was a nice guy
but could have used a course on public relations. Asked if he could
beat the record, he responded, “How the (expletive deleted) would I
know?” Mantle drank beers with writers in the clubhouse, laughing
and letting them in his privileged world. Maris hid in the
trainer’s room. Maris lacked personal appeal. He took criticism
personally, snubbing writers and paying for it through further poor
press.