A TALE OF THREE CITIES: NEW YORK, L.A. AND SAN FRANCISCO IN OCTOBER OF ‘62 (49 page)

Jim Davenport made the National League All-Star team
in 1962. He finally came into his own after years of injuries. He
already was generally viewed as the best-fielding third sacker in
the senior circuit. If he could stay healthy he was destined for
greatness. The press dubbed him "a man for all lesions."

His injuries were an anomaly, since he had been a
college safety at Southern Mississippi without any health problems.
Alabama originally recruited him but 'Bama had a rule against
married players. Since Davenport was wed, the scholarship was
rescinded and he ended up at Southern Miss instead. In his
sophomore and junior years he led his team to upsets over the
Crimson Tide. The losing quarterback both times was Bart Starr.

Davenport was an original 1958 Giant, but suffered
rib and ankle injuries. In 1959 it was an eye infection. On his
26
^th
birthday he tore his knee up in a collision with
then-Reds catcher Ed Bailey. Larry Jackson 's pitch cracked his
collar bone. Bleeding ulcers landed him in a Milwaukee hospital. He
hurt his groin. His injuries made it tough to run and train
properly. The lack of conditioning affected his stamina. The
writers speculated that the missing ingredient between 1958 and
1961 was Davenport. Despite his injuries, he led the league in
fielding percentage three years in a row.

"Here was a guy who was so quiet, and he never
sought out publicity, but he is still the best fielding third
baseman I ever saw," said Bob Stevens, a legendary baseball writer
for the
Chronicle
who eventually had the press box named
after him.

Second baseman Chuck Hiller, on the other hand, was a
defensive liability who would lead the National League in errors in
1962.

"One time in Cincinnati, we went to see the very
first James Bond movie," recalled Tom Haller. "At the end of the
picture, it was discovered that the bad guy, Dr. No, had no iron
hands. So poor Charlie got nailed with 'Dr. No' for awhile."

That was inter-changed with "Iron Hands." The
play-on-movie-words repeated itself two years later with San
Carlos, California-born first baseman Dick Stuart of the Boston Red
Sox. A power hitter with zero defensive skills, Stuart was given
the nickname "Dr. Strange
glove"
after the title character of
the film
Dr. Strangelove.

Hiller had actually led two minor leagues in
fielding after being signed by the same Cleveland scout who had
inked Bob Feller. The Giants picked him up in 1959 and he hit over
.300. Hiller was a talker who Cepeda called "Abner," as in
Doubleday, because "he talked like he invented the game."

But Hiller began to press, and the more he pressed
the more it affected his play at the plate and in the field. After
spending 1961 at triple-A, Hiller was told by Dark he was the
starter in 1962. Hiller spent the spring fretting over whether he
would blow the opportunity, but when the season started and he was
the starter, he was his old "Abner" self again. His fielding,
despite the errors, was adequate and he was adept at turning
double-plays. None of the Giants pitchers was a strikeout artist;
certainly not like Koufax and Drysdale, so they needed those
twin-killings.

Hiller's partner was Jose Pagan, who "has been making
me look good on double-plays . . ." said Hiller in 1962. "When
gained confidence in me, we started to function as a
combination. We're at ease with each other now."

Pagan was probably the least-publicized player on
the team. He was a Latino on a team of high-profile, high-temper
Latinos, but he remained quiet and reserved. "With big stars like
Mays, Marichal and so many others, it’s too bad Jose never really
got the recognition he deserved," said Cepeda. "He was there every
day, made all the plays and he could hit."

"You didn’t have to worry about Pagan at all," said
Billy O'Dell. "He was in the right place all the time. Some of the
other guys, you might have wanted to move them a little bit, but
not Jose."

Pagan had been signed by Pedro Zorilla, credited
with the Cepeda signing. He played five years of minor league ball,
and stuck in 1961 when he beat out Ed Bressoud for the job.
Teammates called him "Humphrey" as in Bogart because of his
non-plussed facial expressions, which the actor effectuated
on-screen.

When the club had a scare flying to Chicago in 1962,
the cabin went silent until Pagan broke the quiet with a blessed
joke: "I say we should take a vote. I'm for taking the bus."

The remark eased the tension. Pagan hit eighth but
drove in a lot of clutch runs. His fielding percentage in 1962 led
the National League.

Harvey Kuenn was a former American League batting
champion. He had hit .300 in eight of the previous nine seasons.
Kuenn graduated from the University of Wisconsin in 1952 and
announced that he was accepting bids for his services, which came
in. Detroit won the "bidding war," signing him to a $55,000
package.

After 63 minor league games the shortstop was
brought up in September, 1952. In 1953 he was named Rookie of the
Year. The 21-year old picked up the tab for a lavish team party at
his hotel. He was barely old enough to consume the alcohol that
flowed, and in some ways Kuenn was the first of the "new breed";
college-educated, rich and savvy.

He hit .300 every year, switched to the outfield and
was a perennial All-Star. On a team that included Al Kaline, he was
the captain. His .353 batting average in 1959 won the batting
title.

In 1960 a controversial trade sent Kuenn to Detroit
for Rocky Colavito. Kuenn was booed, but he batted .308 and was the
player representative. Cleveland fell below .500 after years of
success and general manager Frank Lane traded him to San Francisco
for Willie Kirkland and Johnny Antonelli. Harvey chewed Red Man on
the field and smoked big cigars off it.
Sports Illustrated
did a piece on him. Writer Tex Maule said he kept the team loose,
entertained and united.

"I don't think there was anyone on the club who
enjoyed life or playing in the big leagues more than Harvey," said
Billy Pierce.

One day Mays arrived to find a gift-wrapped package
in his locker. The box of candy was opened to reveal two dozen
decoratively wrapped pieces of horse manure.

"I know you done it," giggled Mays at the laughing
Kuenn. "I know you done it."

At mid-season Kuenn's dad died, but the club rallied
around their friend.

"He taught the younger players about hitting,
volunteering his own time which was something Mays didn't do," said
Bob Stevens. "He also became very close to Stoneham. He loved
drinking margaritas with Horace during Spring Training."

Charles Einstein noted that Kuenn was effective
"drunk or sober."

Matty Alou, the younger brother of Felipe
Alou (and older brother of Jesus Alou) was born on December 22,
1938 in Haina, Dominican Republic. At 5-9 and 155 pounds he was
much smaller than his powerful brother. He grew up with Juan
Marichal and was part of the wholesale exportation of Dominican
baseball talent to the United States that has become more than a
cottage industry.

Matty played four Major League games in 1960
and 81 in 1961. He was a decent outfielder who threw and batted
left-handed.

Carl Boles's only year in Major League baseball was
1962. He was called up from El Paso in mid-summer. He would play
the rest of his career in Japan. He had one distinctive trait, one
reason for being memorable: he was a dead ringer for Willie
Mays.

"It was really noticeable when we made a trip back to
the Polo Grounds," said Boles. "Willie would get these huge
ovations there. That night I came out through the center field
bleachers before he did and the crowd thought I was Mays."

The Mets' fans gave him a standing ovation, until
they noticed that his number was 14, not Mays's 24. Then they booed
him. After games, fans wanting Willie's autograph would mob Boles.
Sometimes he would sign Mays's name as a joke. He got excellent
service at restaurants and roomed with Willie McCovey, which
further made people think he was Mays, since the two Willie's from
Alabama were linked.

Catcher Ed Bailey, 31, loved to talk about women,
which is the favorite subject of most athletes anyway. His spicy
descriptions of girls, alcohol and his golf game earned him the
nickname "Words" and "Mr. Clean."

"He loved to give guys the hot foot," said
McCormick. Wes Westrum was his favorite target because he fell
asleep on the team bus.

Hailing from Strawberry Plains, Tennessee, Bailey
broke into the bigs in 1953 and developed into a three-time
All-Star catcher. In 1961 he was traded to San Francisco to make
room for Johnny Edwards. The Reds won the title but Bailey was
still happy to be in San Francisco. Cow-milking contests were
occasionally held in big league stadiums, and the country boy
Bailey usually won.

Just as Bailey had been traded to make room for
young Johnny Edwards, he discovered a young catching sensation on
his new team. Tom Haller, 24, had been a quarterback at the
University of Illinois. Born on June 23, 1937 in Lockport,
Illinois, he was the prototypical athlete/catcher. Haller was
boyishly handsome, the All-American type possessing great
leadership skills; a first rate throwing arm; and a powerful
left-handed bat. He was 6-4, 195 pounds, and had been called up to
play 30 games in 1961. He was the Giants' future behind the dish.
Bailey was there in case he was not ready, but Haller was ready in
'62.

"Alvin told us we were both going to play, but it's
only natural for them to want to go with the youngest guy they've
got and look to the future," recalled Bailey. "And Dark liked
having me available to come off the bench."

Bailey was involved in several "pier six brawls" in
his career. In 1962 he followed Cepeda after a homer, and
Pittsburgh's Bob Friend went after him. Catcher Don Leppert tackled
Bailey. He and Friend exchanged shouts while being restrained. Then
Bailey hit a 400-foot home run, giving rookie Gaylord Perry an 8-3
win, the first of his career. It started a 10-game winning
streak.

Bailey and Haller provided 35 homers and 100 RBIs
out of the catching position.

Billy O'Dell liked Bailey so much that the two
operated
without signals
. Theirs was almost a telepathic
relationship.

O'Dell was from Newberry, South Carolina; like
Bailey south of the Mason-Dixon Line. Baltimore signed him out of
Clemson. Given the name "Digger" after the main character in
Life of Riley
, he never pitched in the minors.

He gained needed weight in the military and in 1957
made the bigs for good. He was an All-Star in 1958. Pitching for
Baltimore in front of the Orioles' fans, he threw three scoreless
innings in a 4-3 American League win, but hurt his back the next
year. O'Dell's back injury plagued him, and eventually he and Billy
Loes were traded to San Francisco.

At first he and Dark feuded over how he was used. He
was fined and they had shouting matches. Dark wanted to put him in
the 1961 expansion draft but Stoneham insisted he be kept.

In 1962 Spring Training Dark told him he was the
fourth starter "until you show me you can't do it." After an
awesome spring he started game two of the regular season, beating
the Braves with a four-hitter. The key was his relationship with
Bailey. He was effective and consistent all season.

"He never really got credit for being a good
catcher, but I thought he was a great receiver," said O'Dell.

Billy O'Dell's catcher was Ed Bailey. Jack Sanford's
guy was Tom Haller. Sanford was 33 years old and won 16 games in a
row in 1962, his best year in the big leagues by far. The six-foot,
196-pound right-handed pitcher from Wellesley, Massachusetts had
been the 1957 Rookie of the Year with the Phillies before a 1958
trade to the Giants.

"Jack wasn't the easiest guy to know," said Haller.
Sanford was from the "wrong side of the tracks" in a rough Boston
neighborhood. Like all Boston Irishmen, it seemed, he had to
"battle for everything in his life."

He was not a prospect in high school, which in cold
Massachusetts was not much anyway. The Red Sox rejected him in a
try-out, but Philadelphia took a shot at Sanford. He spent eight
years in the minors and even drove the team bus. He was the hardest
thrower in the Philadelphia organization, but could not control his
emotions. He almost punched a club official when told he was being
sent to minors. When traveling secretary Johnny Wise told him he
was being sent down on another occasion, Sanford tried to plead his
case, but Wise just told him he had a bad attitude. Then the Army
drafted him. He hurt his arm pitching in an Army game and developed
a clot in his pitching hand after a fight. The Army wanted to
operate and cut into his clavicle, which would have ended his
pitching career. He got up and left.

Out of the service he came back and, in 1957 at 28
Sanford won Rookie of the Year honors with 19 wins and a 3.08
earned run average. But he had worn out his welcome in Philly and
was traded to the Giants, where he was 40-35 over the next three
years.

He was surly on game days and his family avoided
him. He maintained silence all through the pre-game routine. He was
a loner anyway. The clot made it hard for him to complete games and
he was called a "composer of unfinished symphonies." The
Candlestick weather did not benefit him, and his reputation was
that of a "six inning pitcher," a bone of contention during
contract negotiations.

In Spring Training of 1962 Dark told the hard
thrower to worry less about strikeouts. This and Haller's influence
helped him reduce his pitch counts, maintain stamina and pitch
longer into games. He went less for the big strike and more for
ground ball outs on the corners. He became one of the best pitchers
in baseball, compiling his 16-game streak between June and
September. He refused to celebrate it, however, calling it a
"fluke." Rube Marquard of the Giants had won the all-time record of
19 straight, but Sanford just said it was "ridiculous" and that the
record meant nothing to him. It was his nature to be surly.