A TALE OF THREE CITIES: NEW YORK, L.A. AND SAN FRANCISCO IN OCTOBER OF ‘62 (24 page)

By the time Marichal's skills were noticed by
American scouts, he had never really done anything except play
baseball, with the exception of the plantation work he engaged in
as a youth. The Washington Senators, Brooklyn Dodgers and other
clubs courted him. It was all very exotic, with scouts announcing
that some such club was going to sign him, only to disappear from
the scene; or another asking him to "try out." Marichal did not
know what the phrase "try out" even meant. He was savvy and
confident enough of his abilities, however, to hold out for a
contract offer worthy of his talents.

The Yankees came calling, but Alex Pompez entered the
picture. In September of 1957 Marichal signed with Pompez and the
Giants for $500. He was assigned to the Escogido club of the
Dominican Winter League, who had an arrangement with the Giants.
Before that, the Air Force tried to get Marichal to pitch against a
group of American barnstormers led by Willie Mays. Because of his
contractual commitment to the Giants he was unable to pitch against
the American club. Told that it would be his only chance to meet
Mays, Marichal expressed confidence that "maybe I will get to meet
him later."

In his first game for Escogido, Marichal came on in
relief to strike out three big leaguers - Harry Chitti, Dick Stuart
and Howard Goss - with sidearm fastballs. Given a start, he fired
17 strikes in his first 18 pitches, but gave up a few hits and
trailed, 2-1. Manager Salty Parker said he hoped Marichal would
never pitch for him again, "Because you have to learn how to
pitch." By that, Parker meant that while Marichal had pinpoint
control, he actually needed to learn how throw
balls
, waste
pitches, set-ups.

In 1958 Marichal got his first whiff of the American
South when he trained at the Giants' minor league Spring Training
complex at Sanford, Florida. He was like a machine on the mound at
class-D Michigan City, dominating with a 21-8 record, 246
strikeouts against just 50 walks, and an earned run average of
1.87.

After pitching for Escogido again in the winter of
1958-59, Marichal was assigned to Springfield of the double-A
Eastern League. Manager Andy Gilbert was a perfectionist who
repeated over and over again, "You are a professional." He also
taught Marichal the high leg kick that became his signature style.
His catcher was Tom Haller, a former quarterback at the University
of Illinois.

Marichal was 18-13 with 23 complete games, 208
strikeouts against 47 walks, and a 2.39 ERA. But pitching batting
practice one day, he was hit on the groin by a line drive that
disabled him. This started a trend of injuries that nagged him
throughout his career. In 1960, Marichal was elevated to triple-A
Tacoma of the PCL, where he was 11-5 when, at mid-season and 21
years of age, he was elevated to the Major Leagues.

The only big league baseball he had ever seen "was on
television, mainly the Cub games when I was playing with Michigan
City," he recalled. He immediately felt right at home on a club
that included childhood pal Felipe Alou, Cepeda from Puerto Rico,
and within a year Felipe's brother Matty, Jose Pagan and Manny
Mota. Felipe Alou lived next door to "a wonderful grandmotherly
woman named Mrs. Blanche Johnson, and she and her husband took me
in as a boarder . . ." Marichal recounted.

Marichal fell in love with San Francisco, and the
town in turn loved him back. He quickly became Americanized,
savoring barbecued foods and other treats of his new culture while
staying in touch with his roots. Scouting director Carl Hubbell
issued a standing order: "Leave him alone." Marichal was that
rarest of pitchers; a fully formed package, a pure natural. He was
born to pitch. There was virtually no learning curve. He
instinctively knew what to do, even when pitching against the best
Major League hitters.

In the middle of a tense pennant race, manager Tom
Sheehan immediately installed the Dominican
wunderkind
into
the starting rotation, whereupon Marichal beat rival Pittsburgh,
3-1 and the Milwaukee Braves, 3-2. He finished 6-2 with a 2.67 ERA.
He was already as good as any pitcher in the National League.

In 1961, new manager Alvin Dark was determined to
"snap the club out of its lethargy of the year before," wrote
Charles Einstein. Perpetual favorites for the pennant, San
Francisco had yet to win one and Dark felt that his starting
pitchers were too reliant on the bullpen. In late July he
"pretended tonight he had no bullpen," according to the
San
Francisco Examiner
. Dark announced that Marichal was "going to
go all the way" no matter what. With the bullpen devoid of
humanity, Marichal threw a complete game shutout, defeating
defending World Champion Pittsburgh before 17,855 fans at Forbes
Field.

"I just got plain sick and tired of pitchers standing
out there looking for help," Dark explained after the game.

Marichal was 13-10 in 1961, but San Francisco again
fell short in the standings, finishing third behind Cincinnati and
Los Angeles. He was an established big leaguer, tested in two
pennant races and well versed already in the Giants-Dodgers
rivalry, which at this time was being played out in the new
Candlestick and the old L.A. Coliseum with the same intensity as in
New York.

In the winter prior to the 1962 campaign, Marichal
had a second near-drowning incident in the Dominican. This time, he
was skin-diving with his good friend Felipe Alou. Marichal spotted
a shark. "I swam much too hard and too fast, and I got cramps and I
knew I was sinking," he said.
Alou pulled him to safety, from the shark and from drowning. Alou
modestly said that if Marichal wanted to think he was a "hero,
fine," but later that the pitcher faced greater danger on a
separate occasion. That same winter a boy fired a speargun at a
fish that narrowly missed Marichal's belly.

In 1962, Marichal was expected to be the club's ace,
but entering Spring Training in Phoenix he had other things on his
mind. Rafael Trujillo had recently died, causing political unrest
that later would require President Lyndon Johnson to send in the
Marines. Marichal had met a pretty Santo Domingo girl named Alma in
1958. He was never the playboy "man about town" that Cepeda was,
and after getting to camp Marichal decided he wanted to be married.
He was concerned about Alma amid the Dominican turmoil at the time.
Dark told him to go home, get married and come right back, which he
did. With his personal life in order, stardom awaited.

"You could call just about anything you'd want and
Juan was gonna be awful close to a strike," recalled catcher Ed
Bailey. "He was the best pitcher I ever caught."

"He could throw it sidearm or over the top, with a
screwball, fastball, slider, curve, a change-up you couldn't hit -
with deception - he had everything," said pitching coach Larry
Jansen. Jansen told the sportswriters all he ever had to do was get
Marichal in shape. He never needed to work with him on technique or
repertoire. He was an untouchable.

The press took to calling him the "Dominican
Dandy."

He was highly religious like Felipe Alou. His close
calls swimming and with spearguns certainly reinforced his belief
in Jesus Christ, and probably as Felipe Alou - whose brother's name
was Jesus - as a his "guardian angel."

The only drawback with Marichal was his tendency to
come down with some kind of malady, and in 1962 he suffered but
overcame the mumps. His pitching helped power San Francisco into an
early lead, and he was the winning pitcher for the National League
in the first 1962 All-Star Game.

****

There may never have been a professional athlete more
perfectly suited for the team he played for than Don Drysdale. He
was the ultimate Hollywood athlete; a Los Angeles native with the
looks of a matinee idol and a budding film career on the side. Even
his name had marquee value, like John Barrymore or Errol Flynn. He
made guest appearances on
The Beverly Hillbillies
, whose
banker character was also named Drysdale.

His background was straight out of Tinseltown, too.
At Van Nuys High School, his classmates included the acclaimed
actress Natalie Wood, already an international child star, and
Robert Redford. Redford, known then as Bobby, was the star
outfielder on Drysdale's baseball team. He was good enough to
garner a baseball scholarship to the University of Colorado.

Don's father was a semi-pro pitcher who played on the
same field where Annabelle Lee learned how to play baseball.
Annabelle was the aunt of future USC and Boston Red Sox pitcher
Bill "Spaceman" Lee, as well as the model for the star pitcher in
A League of Their Own
. Mr. Drysdale taught his son pitching
fundamentals, encouraging him to throw three-quarter arm. Don was
also an outstanding hitter who played the infield, but when he got
to American Legion ball he emphasized pitching.

Drysdale had it all. Aside from height, a perfect
pitcher's build, an overpowering fastball, astonishing talent and
the admiration of every girl on the Van Nuys campus, he was a
scholar of the first order, recruited to Stanford University on an
academic scholarship. USC coach Rod Dedeaux also vied for his
services. But after pitching for a Dodgers amateur team, the
Giants, Yankees, White Sox, and Cardinals all bid for his services.
Instead of becoming the "big man on campus" at Stanford, Drysdale
signed a large bonus contract with the Brooklyn Dodgers, who won
the competition for him. He rose quickly and without obstacle
through the talent-laden Dodgers' minor league system, ascending to
the big club in 1956. He was 19.

Drysdale contributed to Brooklyn's 1956 pennant. He
won his first game, beating Philadelphia, 6-1 with nine strikeouts.
He started 12 games with a fine 2.64 earned run average. In 1957,
the team suddenly seemed to age. Amidst the turmoil of an impending
move to Los Angeles, and absent the great Jackie Robinson, Brooklyn
suffered on the field and at the gate. Their biggest bright spot
was Drysdale, an emerging ace who went 17-9 with a 2.69 ERA.

The 1957 Dodgers (84-70, third behind Milwaukee and
St. Louis) included several Californians (Gino Cimoli, Duke Snider
and Drysdale). Snider was a Brooklyn icon, and despite being from
nearby Compton was underwhelmed by the move to Los Angeles, where
the dimensions at the Coliseum rendered him a shell of his powerful
old self. Cimoli was from San Francisco, so presumably he was not
overly excited about the move, but Drysdale was ecstatic.

Drysdale learned how to throw brushbacks from Sal
"The Barber" Maglie, who had come over to Brooklyn after a star
turn with the New York Giants. "Just remember, every time a batter
gets a hit off you, it's like he picked your pocket for a dollar,"
he told Drysdale.

On a team of veterans, Drysdale befriended another
young pitcher, Sandy Koufax. The two would take turns as each
other's personal cultural ambassadors and social directors.
Drysdale, the Californian amidst the strange-yet-wonderful Brooklyn
environment, was welcomed into the Koufax household and shown the
sights by the local boy Koufax. In Los Angeles, it was the other
way around. Drysdale's family made the homesick Jewish kid feel
like he was among friends, while Don gave him the tour of his
beloved L.A.

The two were made for the town. Both were handsome
and personable. In 1960, Drysdale made his acting debut, playing an
Old West lawman in a show appropriately called
The Lawman
.
The 6-6, 207-pound right-hander was the embodiment of the rugged
Westerner, a big man in the Clint Eastwood mold. There are few
athletes whose on-field personality was more different from his
off-field demeanor. When Drysdale matured, he became the embodiment
of class and intelligence. He had a kind word for everybody and,
despite his star status and Hollywood connections, treated the
"little people" with as much respect as his star friends. He was
also smart, a fabulous interview who benefited from the terrific
L.A. sportswriting and radio corps of the era.

On the mound, however, Drysdale was surly and mean,
"one of the finest competitors I have ever known," according to
Duke Snider. "Don hated to lose - at anything. He didn't even like
to hear the word lose."

His reputation for throwing at hitters spread quickly
throughout the league.

"Everybody knew about it and they were scared to
death of him," said catcher John Roseboro. "Hitters came to the
plate talking nice to me in hopes I wouldn't call for the close
pitch . . . if you've ever had a ball come about 90 miles an hour
at your head, it screws up your thinking . . . Drysdale lived on
that."

Drysdale did not shave on game day, looking like a
Western villain from one of those TV shows he acted in. Despite his
pleasant off-field demeanor, he had a "mean streak," said relief
pitcher Ron Perranoski.

Dick Groat compared batting against Drysdale to
seeing the dentist when he knew he had cavities. Cincinnati pitcher
Jim Brosnan said Big D's "idea of a waster pitch is a strike."

"You just try to hit him before he hits you," said
Orlando Cepeda.

The steely-eyed fan favorite worked the inside of
home plate as well as any pitcher who ever lived. With no
designated hitter to protect him, he knew he would be retaliated
against by other National League pitchers, and he worked during an
era of some of the hardest-throwers in baseball.

"Drysdale had the reputation of being a headhunter,"
recalled Snider. "Well, maybe only a slight exaggeration. Don
wasn't always trying to hit batters, but he didn't hesitate to
throw inside, which a pitcher has to do to be successful, and he
didn't mind capitalizing on his reputation to get an edge."

Drysdale was known to approach the other club's best
hitter during batting practice on his day to pitch and ask them,
"Where would you like it today?" Facing Frank Robinson, his equal
as a fiery competitor who crowded home plate like a subway masher,
Drysdale once hit Robinson instead of walking him intentionally so
as to gain the psychological edge.