A TALE OF THREE CITIES: NEW YORK, L.A. AND SAN FRANCISCO IN OCTOBER OF ‘62 (51 page)

The players could "feel . . .definite tension in the
air," said Wills. "It reminds me of a homecoming college football
game. Each time we face San Francisco, it’s different than any
other National League series."

Veterans taught youngsters like Ron Fairly, who
already was imbued by a sense of north-south rivalry against
California and Stanford from his USC days, to "hate the Giants more
than any other team," he said. "I'm sure the Giants weren't too
fond of us, either - and that 's exactly the way we wanted it."

Junior Gilliam called Willie Mays "one of the best
friends I ever had in my life, but there was no way we would talk
to each other on the field. Not even hello."

"Against the Giants, you just tried that much
harder," recalled Joe Moeller. "Even if the Giants had been in last
place, we would've wanted to beat them worse than the
frontrunners."

"I don't care how you play these games - the
Dodger-Giants rivalry is always intense," said Al Dark, insisting
it had not lost a thing on the West Coast.

"Usually, in the batting cage, guys on the other
teams would come over and exchange ideas, say hi," Orlando Cepeda
said. "When we played the Dodgers, we wouldn't talk to them."

"It was a special event that required a much greater
level of preparation," said Felipe Alou.

"When you stepped off the plane in Los Angeles, you
could
hear
the electricity," Willie McCovey recalled. "Even
the skycaps at the airport were all wrapped up in the rivalry. It
carried over to the hotel and finally the ballpark."

"It may not have matched the spirit of the New York
days, but it was still a great rivalry," said Podres. "You always
got fired up playing the Giants."

If the Giants thought they had a weather advantage
in August that would manifest itself into their overtaking Los
Angeles, they found that it was not to be. On the third of the
month Drysdale beat the Cubs, 8-3, to become the earliest 20-game
winner since Jim "Hippo" Vaughn in 1918. The "no man's land" nature
of the race, in which both teams had a distinct advantage in their
home stadiums, continued to keep San Francisco from catching
up.

"I seems to be an incontrovertible fact that neither
team can play well in the other chaps' ballpark," wrote San
Francisco beat writer Joe King. "The Giants are sad sacks in L.A.;
nobody may ever see a team drop dead like the Dodgers in
Candlestick."

"We would go to San Francisco with our great pitching
staff, and there were games where we'd get blown out, 12-3 or
whatever," Perranoski said. "Then they'd come down to Dodger
Stadium and we'd win low-scoring games by a run. The two ballparks
dictated the action."

With Los Angeles maintaining an overall lead, the
tit-for-tat nature of the home-and-home rivalry was not helping the
Giants. Both teams built their advantages using dirty tricks that
intensified feelings on both sides.

The Giants kept tall grass and a slow infield. The
Dodgers used a roller to pack their dirt for their speedsters. The
Dodgers sloped the third base line so that bunts by Wills, Gilliam,
and Willie Davis would stay fair. Their grass was short. Much of it
was meant to gain a psychological advantage over San Francisco more
than an actual one. Al Dark instructed the Candlestick groundscrew
to water down the paths in order to slow Wills.

On August 4 a "Miracle at Coogan's Bluff" celebration
was held at Candlestick Park, with Bobby Thomson, Eddie Stanky and
Monte Irvin attending. San Francisco's own Joe DiMaggio was invited
to attended all three games, but had to cancel when his ex-wife,
Marilyn Monroe, died on August 5. On August 9 L.A. beat
Philadelphia, 8-3. On August 10 the Dodgers came to San Francisco
(who had lost three straight at Chavez Ravine) with a five and a
half-game lead, their biggest of the year. At 5:30 A.M. Matty
Schwab, Candlestick's head groundskeeper, dug a pit where Wills
normally took his lead, filled it with water, sand and peat moss,
then covered it with topsoil. During infield practice the Los
Angeles players noticed and brought it to the attention of head
umpire Tom Gorman. Gorman ordered the pit dug up, but Schwab's crew
replaced it with more mud than before. Schwab's wheelbarrow of
sand, supposed to dry up the pit, contained all the old, hidden
ingredients that had previously been dug up. It was worse than
before. Wills said the whole episode "demoralized" him. Mays hit a
homer with four RBIs and the Dodgers came unglued in an 11-2
loss.

The next day the Dodgers came out doing mock
breastrokes, and further hi-jinx followed. A Dodger stole San
Francisco's leaded bat. A Giant stole L.A.'s practice bat. Dark
kept a straight face, saying that unless the infield is watered
down, the three o'clock winds kick up the dust. Drysdale started
with an 11-game winning streak. Tommy Davis, hitting .452 against
Giants pitching, hit a three-run homer off of Pierce.

In the third Wills kept stepping out against
Pierce to unnerve him, but when the umpire ordered him in Wills
exploded about the field, calling the umpire "gutless." Wills
shouted it again and the man in blue thumbed Wills. San Francisco
scored two runs in the fourth, and the Giants sensed that L.A. was
psyched. Their comeback was on. Then the winds
did
start to
blow. There were delays and the tension was thick enough to cut
with a knife.

Clinging to a 3-2 lead, Drysdale allowed a
Felipe Alou bloop double. Haller struck out and Drysdale, then hit
Jim Davenport, causing him a hairline fracture. Despite Big D's
reputation as a headhunter, it was not intentional. He was the
go-ahead run. Drysdale apologized on the spot (and called him
later; Davenport was out two weeks). Drysdale struck out Pagan but
McCovey pinch-hit for Pierce. Alston came out to talk it over with
his ace. Willie Mac always wore him out, and was "the only batter
who could consistently destroy Drysdale," said Roseboro.

McCovey had homered off of him a month
earlier, and a year earlier had hit a 475-foot shot off of him; the
longest to date in Candlestick history. Alston had Perranoski up
and ready but stuck with Drysdale. The count went full, then
McCovey slammed a home run and the place went crazy. Stu Miller
preserved Pierce's 5-4 win, the 200
^th
of his career.
Wills was fined $50 and the Giants were back in it.

On Sunday afternoon, Juan Marichal shoved
Dodger bats "where the sun don't shine" in a dominating 5-1 win.
Los Angeles was now thoroughly discombobulated, finding excuses for
their failings. Buzzie Bavasi called the Giants "bush" and vowed
protests, but they were off their game and it would affect the
race. Alston said the field was dangerous, that Mays could have
broken his leg. Vin Scully called Al Dark "the Swamp Fox."

"One more squirt and the Red Cross would
have declared a disaster area and begun to evacuate the Dodgers by
rowboat . . . an aircraft carrier would've run aground," Murray
wrote.

The Giants exhibited "The most disgraceful
case of poor sportsmanship since Major League baseball came to the
coast," wrote writer Sid Ziff.

Wills paid his fine in pennies, dragging an
80-pound bag to National League president Warren Giles's desk in
Cincinnati, turned it over and letting them spill everywhere. He
then asked them to count it and give him a receipt. Alston tinkered
with his heretofore successful line-up, putting Tommy Davis at
third and veteran Wally Moon in left field. Frank Howard started to
slump. The Dodgers were not a good defensive team anyway. Moon's
presence made them worse. Also in August, the Alston-Durocher feud
reached a head. Third base coach Durocher had been disregarding
Alston's signs for a month.

"Forget the signs," Durocher wrote in
Nice Guys Finish Last
. "We had a manager who sat back and
played everything conservatively. To hell with it. Alston would
give me the take sign, I'd flash the hit sign. Alston would signal
bunt, I'd call for the hit-and-run."

Duke Snider, relegated to the bench, led a
cabal of "Leo's guys," all of whom were bench-warmers. Daryl
Spencer called Alston "wishy-washy" and called Durocher a
decision-maker. Some veterans questioned Alston's decisions. The
starters were Alston's loyalists. Against the Cubs, Durocher
badgered young third baseman Ron Santo relentlessly, saying he was
going to be traded to L.A. Tampering charges were made and Bavasi
said it would stop.

Alston called a team meeting and laid down
the law, saying "Leo, that means you." If Durocher missed a sign,
Alston said he would be fined $200; the player an additional $200.
A few days later Fairly missed a sign and Tommy Davis ran into his
own bunt.

"Somebody oughta take some money from these
kids," shouted Durocher.

Alston confronted him then and there. "You do
the coaching, Durocher, and I'll do the chewing out and fining,"
Alston declared.

It did not stop there. Alston had to whistle
three times in order to get Leo's attention, and signs were still
missed. Mel Durslag castigated Alston for embarrassing Durocher in
front of the team. Walt screamed at the writer for his concern over
Leo's feelings, but what about his?

"What about the times he has shown me up in
front of the players?" Alston yelled. "How much of this do I have
to take?" Alston and Durocher moved their cubicles away from each
other and stopped sitting next to each other on buses and
planes.

Internal dissension was not relegated to the
Dodgers, however. After a frustrating loss on August 19, Dark and
Cepeda engaged in a shouting match. San Francisco slumped but ended
a six-losses-in-seven-games stretch with a 2-1 win over New York on
August 23.

On August 24, the Durocher-Alston feud took a
strange turn. Durocher had a reaction to penicillin, and thinking
he was having a heart attack, was placed on a clubhouse table.
Alston rushed in.

"I think this is it, Walt," said Durocher,
as if it was the "George Gipp scene" from
Knute Rockne:
All-American
. "Go got them." Durocher was given dosages of
vitamin B, however, and restored to full health. He was still
absent from the team for two weeks.

Los Angeles won seven of eight and led by
three and a half by Labor Day. On September 3 at Dodger Stadium the
infield dirt was "as dry as Pharaoh's tomb" wrote Charles McCabe.
54,418, the biggest crowd of the season, came out wearing feathers
and doing duck calls. 3.000 duck call sounders were sold by the
concessions. Two brought in a real duck and a chicken, throwing
them on the field. Dodger batboy Rene Lachemann had to remove them.
The Giants came out for batting practice and saw a "gift" on their
dugout steps: a watering can.

Over the loudspeakers Danny Kaye's popular
"Hiller-Haller-Miller" song played:

Cepeda runs to field the ball

And Hiller covers first

Haller run to back up Hiller

Hiller crashes into Miller

Haller hollers 'Hiller!'

Hiller hollers 'Miller!'

Haller hollers 'Hiller,' points to Miller
with his fist

And that's the
Miller-Hiller-Haller-Holler-lujah-twist!

The Giants had a10-game losing streak at
Dodger Stadium dating back to 1961. Dark shuffled his batting order
and Mays, hitting fifth, clubbed a three-run homer off of Stan
Williams. Sanford walked none in a complete game 7-3 win, his
20
^th
of the season.

After the game the Giants were guests at
blonde bombshell Jayne Mansfield's house. It included cocktails and
a buffet by the swimming pool, but some Giants were disappointed.
Half expected Jayne would be wearing a bikini and the party would
be a full-scale sex orgy, with the actress satiating all their
"needs." Instead, she was not "anything like her image on the
screen," said Pierce, which of course promoted that very fantasy.
"She was pleasant, but very businesslike and proper. We knew she
was a big baseball fan, but I think there was also some kind of
promotion or commercial involved. To the ballplayers, this was a
big deal. We went because we wanted to see Jayne Mansfield, her
house, and that heart-shaped swimming pool." Wives and girlfriends
had a hard time believing the truth, which was that nothing amorous
happened.

The next night, perhaps still fantasizing
about her, the Giants lost 5-4 when Willie Davis scored from first
on a single, Roseboro stole home, and Perranoski struck out Mays
and Cepeda to end the game. On September 5, Mays doubled and
singled in a 3-0 win but Marichal, dominating Los Angeles, injured
his foot on a play at first base, just as he had a year earlier at
the Coliseum. X-rays revealed no fracture but he would miss several
starts.

Dark accused Marichal of "jaking" it. It was
his 18
^th
last win of the season.

On September 6, the Armed Forces Radio
Network conducted a live satellite call-in interview with the
presumed World Series managers, the Yankees' Ralph Houk and the
Dodgers' Walt Alston. It did not escape Dark's attention, and he
took exception to it.

That day McCovey killed Drysdale again with a
single and double, staking San Francisco to 4-0 lead. Los Angeles
rallied behind Tommy Davis's single and a Howard home run. Drysdale
then knocked down both Willie's with furious inside buzz. Billy
O'Dell returned the favor, buzzing Drysdale when he came to the
plate.

A volatile exchange ensued between umpire Ed
Barlick and both managers. Tommy Davis's homer tied it and 54,263
Dodgers fans went wild. Perranoski came on in the ninth. Hiller
beat out an infield single. Davenport, back from the disabled list,
laid down a sacrifice bunt, and Perranoski tried to get the lead
run at second. His throw went into center field for an error, and
Giants runners were now at second and third. Felipe Alou walked to
load the bases. Mays tapped a forceout at home. Cepeda worked
Perranoski to a full count, but the southpaw reliever just missed,
walking in the go-ahead run. Perranoski sagged perceptibly. Harvey
Kuenn doubled and it was "Katy bar the door." 9-5, Giants.