How Murderers' Row Shaped Baseball - BY HARVEY FROMMER

How Murderers' Row Shaped Baseball

                                    BY HARVEY FROMMER

When Yankee owner Colonel Ruppert's "Rough Riders," as some called them in the late 1920s, were not going head to head against their American League competition, they were playing exhibition games in Buffalo, Omaha, Rochester, Columbus, Dayton, Indianapolis... 

Everyone in the little cities and small towns wanted to catch a glimpse of the Babe, Lou and the others. Wherever the Yankees went, there were always packed ballparks and playing fields. The team was a magnet, a syncopated jazz band playing a baseball song with the Babe leading, striking up the band with his home run baton, his bat. Whole towns came out early and they stayed late studying the moves of "the Colossus of baseball," how he walked, how he ran, how he swung a bat, how he caught and threw a baseball, how he joked and wrestled with kids in the fields of play, how many different kinds of home runs he hit. Demand for the Yankees came from all over.  Murderers' Row even played exhibition games in Pittsburgh and Cincinnati, National League cities.

In Omaha, Nebraska, the King of Clouts, Ruth, and his protégé the "Prince of Pounders," Gehrig seemed genuinely happy to make the acquaintance of one "Lady Amco" who was known as the "Babe Ruth of chickens."  She was a world champ at laying eggs. The morning the Babe and the Buster met her she produced on cue, laying an egg for the 171st straight day. In Indianapolis, the Sultan of Swat failed to homer or even swat the ball out of the infield in his first three times at bats.

Each time the smattering of boos and heckling became louder, all good natured, of course. According to reports, Ruth in his fourth at bat tagged the ball, and it leaped over the fence in right field into the street bouncing into box cars in a nearby freight yard. That was the story.

And its punch line: "I guess I did show those people something, make fun of me, will they," the Big Bam boomed going into the dugout. In a dilapidated park in Ft. Wayne, Indiana before 35,000 against the Lincoln Lifes, a semi-pro team, the scene was all too familiar. Hundreds of kids screamed, ached to ogle, to get an autograph or just to be close to George Herman Ruth, their idol.

The Bambino, to save his legs, played first base, as was his custom many times during those exhibition games.  Gehrig played right field. Going into the tenth inning, the score was tied, 3-3. Mike Gazella was on first base when Ruth stepped into the batter's box. Always the showman, signaling to the crowd that they might as well start going home, the Big Bam poked the ball over the right field fence giving the Yankees a 5-3 win. Hundreds of boys who had been relatively controlled and contained mobbed their idol as he crossed home plate. It took quite a while before Ruth and the Yankees could clear out of the park.

Wherever the exhibition games were staged, overflow crowds sat in the outfield watching the action. Attendance records were broken. Mobs cheered. They roared and howled and jumped to their feet, marveling at the power and magic of the mighty Yankees and especially George Herman Ruth. "God, we liked that big son of a bitch. He was a constant source of joy, Waite Hoyt said. "I've seen them kids, men, women, worshipers all, hoping to get his name on a torn, dirty piece of paper, or hoping for a grunt of recognition when they said, 'Hi-ya, Babe.'

He never let them down; not once. He was the greatest crowd pleaser of them all." In a game played at Sing-Sing, New York against the prison team, Ruth slugged a batting practice home run over the right field wall and then another over the center field wall. "I'd love to be riding out of here on those balls," one of the prisoners joked.  During the game the Sultan of Swat turned to the crowd of cons in the stands and bellowed in that big booming baritone voice of his:  "What time is it?"  Many of the cons shouted back the answer.  "What difference does it make?" the showman Ruth yelled. "You guys ain't going anyplace, any time soon."

The Yankees were going anyplace they could play baseball. On May 26 they were at West Point. Entering the Mess Hall at noon to dine with the Cadets for lunch, the team from the Bronx received a standing and enthusiastic ovation from the 1,200 West Pointers. Before the baseball exhibition game began at West Stadium, "Jidge" Ruth presented members of the Army nine with autographed baseballs and a specially autographed baseball to the leading ball player of each of the twelve companies.   

The Yankees used virtually their regular lineup except that Ruth and Gehrig switched places in the field. Earle Combs walked to start the game. Mark Koenig singled. Babe Ruth was struck out by Army pitcher Tim Timberlake and that got a mighty rise from the Cadets.

James Harrison later described the scene in The New York Times:  "'Aw, he didn't try to hit the ball,' said one of the cadets.  'He was just trying to make us feel good.' " However, the truth of the matter was that the Big Bam was so eager to hit a homer for the Hudson folks that he went after bad balls which he couldn't have reached on a stepladder.

No matter. A good time was being had by all until lightning, thunder and a soaking rain brought the festivities to a quick conclusion after just two innings. The Yanks, as usual, won another, 2-0. It was said that the Babe got a big kick playing in exhibition games. It was said that he liked that time to show off his skills, play without pressure, and have fun. That was what was said.  But there was also the unpublicized financial benefit. At the beginning of his participation in exhibitions gigs, Ruth received 10 percent of the gate receipts. That arrangement ballooned later to a guaranteed $2,500 against 15 percent of gate receipts.

Just how many became fans of the Yankees after attending those exhibition games cannot be measured. Just how many heard about the dramatic doings of the team and became lifelong fans of the team that were calling "Murderers' Row" is also beyond calculation.

The author’s THE ULTIMATE YANKEE BOOK  debuts this fall. PRE ORDER from AMAZON: http://www.frommerbooks.com/ultimate-yankees.html .

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About Harvey Frommer:  One of the most prolific and respected sports journalists and oral historians in the United States, author of the autobiographies of legends Nolan Ryan, Tony Dorsett, and Red Holzman, Dr. Harvey Frommer is an expert on the New York Yankees and has arguably written more books, articles and reviews on the New York Yankees than anyone.   In 2010, he was honored by the City of New York to serve as historical consultant for the re-imagined old Yankee Stadium site, Heritage Field. A professor for more than two decades in the MALS program at Dartmouth College, Frommer was dubbed “Dartmouth’s Mr. Baseball” by their alumni magazine. He’s also the founder of HarveyFrommerSports.com.

REMEMBERING MEL ALLEN By Harvey Frommer

  REMEMBERING MEL ALLEN

              By Harvey Frommer

   I had the very good fortune in 1990 to visit the legendary Mel Allen at his home in Greenwich, Connecticut. I was there to collect memorabilia for the “Stars of David: Jews in Sports” exhibit that I was the curator and executive producer for at the Klutznik Museum in Washington, D.C.

My wife Myrna came along with me. Mel had his sister Esther at the ready. I had driven out from Long Island in my Toyota Celica. The thinking was that I would spend a few hours, collect whatever Mel Allen offered and go back home. It would up as a virtually an all-day affair. My car was too small and the time was all too brief.

I was a so impressed with the warmth and the kindness and intelligence of Mel Allen. His hospitality and that of his sister -food and beverages – was a kindly gesture to strangers in their midst. Growing up in Brooklyn, his was the “voice” I had listened to those long ago summer days and nights that so splendidly spun the tales of New York Yankee baseball. It was the pleasing southern voice that got me interested in writing about sports, especially baseball, especially the Yankees.   

            At the top of his game as a broadcaster, Mel Allen received in excess of a thousand letters a week.  The son of Russian Jewish immigrants, he born in Johns, Alabama, near Birmingham on Feb. 14, 1913. He enrolled at the University of Alabama at age 15, went on to earn degrees in political science and law and passed the bar.  

And he joked “I took a class with the great football coach Bear Bryant and earned all A’s. I was absent all the time.”

      Remaining close to home working as a speech instructor, covering football for a radio station in Birmingham, in 1936, Allen went to New York City with friends for a Christmas time break and on impulse stopped at CBS for an audition. By 1939, he was announcing home games for the network of the New York Giants and New York Yankees. By 1940, he held forth as the main voice on radio, then TV for the Yankees. His incredible time in the Yankee booth started in the sad days of the end of Lou Gehrig and ended in the final sad days the Yankee Empire of the 1960s. If you were a fan of the Yankees, chances were you loved him. Chance are that if you were anti-Yankee, you were anti-Allen.

EDDIE LOPAT: He was accused of being prejudiced for the Yankees. One year we won thirty-nine games in the seventh, eighth and ninth. He had to get riled up.

      JERRY COLEMAN: I worked with Mel Allen was the personification of the great broadcast voice. He was magnificent in what he did and how he did it. And he could talk forever.

The articulate and enthusiastic Mel Allen brought the game to millions in a cultivated, resonant voice. He began broadcasts with "Hello, everybody, this is Mel Allen!" He created nick-names: "Joltin' Joe" DiMaggio, "Scooter" for Phil Rizzuto, "Old Reliable" for Tommy Henrich,

Allen’s signature phrase "How about that!" originated in 1949, when Joe DiMaggio slammed three home runs in three games coming back from a severe heel injury. Each DiMaggio home run call was punctuated by Allen with "How about that!" "Going Going, Gone!" was Allen’s trademark call for a homer and a description of a four bagger as "Ballantine Blasts" and "White Owl Wallops" was a nod to sponsors.   

MONTE IRVIN: Mel Allen had that golden voice. We thought he used to root more than anybody. Red Barber did less rooting. Mel was strictly a homer, but he was a truly fine announcer.

         Allen’s resume highlighted his announcing 20 World Series and 24 All-Star Games, being there for nearly every major Yankees event. Suddenly, strangely, when the 1964 season ended, the great “Voice of the Yankees” was let go.

       MEL ALLEN: They never even held a press conference to announce my leaving. They left people to believe whatever they wanted -- and people believed the worst.            

       RED BARBER: He gave the Yankees his life and they broke his heart.

Pained, angered, confused, Mel Allen moved into the shadows for a time, disappeared from public view and consciousness. He broadcast Cleveland Indians games in 1968, called 40 Yankees' broadcasts annually for several years on SportsChannel. He had a long run from 1977 on as the voice of "This Week in Baseball." He became the host of the MSG Network program "Yankees Magazine" in 1986.     

 It was George Steinbrenner who is generally credited with bringing him back into the Yankee family, hiring Allen to do games on cable TV and emcee special events at Yankee Stadium. "The minute I bought the Yankees,” Steinbrenner said, “I wanted to know where Mel Allen was and I immediately brought him back to the organization.”

PAUL DOHERTY: Mel’s return to the Yankees organization actually occurred six years before George’s arrival in January 1973. His first return to the Yankees was to call the Old Timers Day Game on the field at the Stadium in 1967.  After the return, Mel came back the Stadium to do the play by play on field for most all of the Old Timers Day games for next two decades. He also received a nice pat on the back from the Yankees brass when they had him call Mickey Mantle from the dugout on Mantle Day, June 9, 1969. So his exile from the Yankees didn’t last very long.

The long broadcasting run of Mel Israel Allen came to an end on June 16, 1996. The “Voice of the Yankees” was finally stilled. He passed away at his Greenwich, Connecticut home. The heart trouble that had afflicted him for several years was the cause of death. Fittingly, the 83-year old Mel Allen had just finished watching a Yankee game on television.  

The above profile is excerpted from the author’s THE ULTIMATE YANKEE BOOK which debuts this fall. PRE ORDER from AMAZON: http://www.frommerbooks.com/ultimate-yankees.html .

About Harvey Frommer:  One of the most prolific and respected sports journalists and oral historians in the United States, author of the autobiographies of legends Nolan Ryan, Tony Dorsett, and Red Holzman, Dr. Harvey Frommer is an expert on the New York Yankees and has arguably written more books, articles and reviews on the New York Yankees than anyone.   In 2010, he was honored by the City of New York to serve as historical consultant for the re-imagined old Yankee Stadium site, Heritage Field. A professor for more than two decades in the MALS program at Dartmouth College, Frommer was dubbed “Dartmouth’s Mr. Baseball” by their alumni magazine.

 

REMEMBERING YOGI BERRA - By Harvey Frommer

REMEMBERING YOGI BERRA     

By Harvey Frommer

“Mr. Berra is a very strange fellow of very remarkable abilities.” –Casey Stengel           

“Talking to Yogi Berra about baseball, is like talking to Homer about the gods.” - Bart Giamatti

The kid who grew up in St. Louis eating banana sandwiches with mustard grew up to be one of the legends of legends of New York Yankees baseball. Born on May 12, 1925. Lawrence Berra was raised in --"The Hill" the Italian section of St. Louis. One of his neighbors and friends was future catcher big league catcher and broadcaster Joe Garagiola.  

Berra's parents were Italian immigrants. His father was a bricklayer and construction worker. The young Berra dropped out of school without completing the eighth grade. The story was he needed to work to help financially support his family. Of course, in his spare time he played American Legion baseball.

There are many versions that have been passed down explaining how Lawrence Peter Berra came by the nickname, “Yogi.” The Baseball Hall of Fame is on record with this one. After attending an afternoon movie that showed a “yogi” practicing yoga, his friend Jack Maguire noted how his buddy resembled the “yogi.” Maguire said: “I’m going to call you Yogi.” And as it turned out, so did millions of others.

He could have played for the St. Louis Cardinals, but Branch Rickey blew it. After a tryout, he offered Berra a $250 bonus, unsure if the youngster was big league material. His friend Joe Garagiola, Berra knew, was offered $500. For the canny Berra, it worked out well as most things in life did. He waited for a better offer.

Enter Yankees and $500. His first stop was the Norfolk Tars of the Class B Piedmont League.  There briefly, at age 18, Yogi left organized baseball and enlisted in the Navy.

“I was just a young guy doing what he was supposed to do back then, joining the Navy, serving my country, fighting the war. I wasn’t a baseball player on that boat. I was a sailor.”

As a second class seaman on a six man rocket boat, Berra took part in the D-Day invasion at Omaha Beach and manned a machine gun providing cover fire. He also served in North America and Europe and was awarded a Purple Heart.

War over, Berra was assigned in 1946 to a team in New London, Connecticut for a few games and then it was up to the top Yankee farm team the Newark Bears of the International League. In 77 games, splitting time between catcher and the outfield, he batted .314 with 15 homers, batted in 59 runs.  The Yankees had seen enough. They called him up.

 As the story goes, the first day Berra came into the Yankees clubhouse, he was still in is navy uniform. The clubhouse manager barely took notice of him. He “didn’t even look like a sailor no less a Yankee player,” said the clubhouse manager. When Larry MacPhail, Yankee president, spotted him for the first time he was also was not very impressed with the 5'7" squat rookie. MacPhail said Berra reminded him of "the bottom man on an unemployed acrobatic team."

Perhaps it was because of comments like one delivered by MacPhail and others that Berra played all the time in overdrive. In his first Major League game in 1946, he slammed a home run. The next day he hit another one.  He started that way and never let up. Although he shared time as Yankee catcher with others, he batted .280, slammed 11 home runs, and drove in 54 runs in 1947 his rookie season.

  Dogged, driven, determined, highly capable, the young Berra showed off what he was made of and what he would become in a game against the St. Louis Browns in 1947. An inexperienced catcher, he jumped out for a bunted ball, tagged the batter and tagged the runner coming home from third on a squeeze play, "I just tagged everything in sight, including the umpire," he explained.

       Manager Casey Stengel fell in love with him right from the start calling him "Mr. Berra" and "my assistant manager." When Stengel was asked why Yankee pitching was so excellent, he replied: “Our catcher that's why. He looks cumbersome but he's quick as a cat”.  

In 1949, Stengel’s “quick as a cat catcher” and “assistant manager” broke a finger. No matter. Berra played on. He played a part of that season with one finger outside of his catcher's mitt. Berra began that practice which would be adopted by most catchers.  

      The great Bill Dickey, a Yankee coach and former legendary catcher, put in much time with Lawrence Peter Berra as his mentor and his pupil observed uttering one of what would become one of his most famous of “Yogiisms” - - "Bill is learning me all his experiences." Yogi was a very quick learner, and he went on to become an accomplished heads-up catcher.

A celebrated bad-ball hitter, Berra swung at quite a few balls that were not strikes. He smashed them anyway.  

PHIL RIZZUTO: I saw him hit them on the bounce; I've seen him leave his feet to hit them.

“He had the fastest bat I ever saw,” said his one-time Yankee teammate Hector Lopez. “He could hit a ball late, that was already past him, and take it out of the park. The pitchers were afraid of him because he'd hit anything, so they didn't know what to throw. Yogi had them psyched out and he wasn't even trying to psych them out."  

He was a remarkable clutch hitter, highly intelligent and durable, incredibly productive. He was the engine, the force, the constant. He was always somehow obscured by the Yankee legends he played with. But Yogi had the goods.

        The stats are truly amazing: a record 14 World Series appearances and 10 championships, an All-Star 18-times, a three time Most Valuable Player. Berra caught 14,387 innings, 1,699 games behind the plate, throwing out almost half of those who attempted to steal on him.

     He had ten straight seasons with at least 20 home runs.  Five seasons he recorded more home runs than strikeouts.   From 1947 to 1965, Yogi averaged about 500 at bats a season, never striking out more than 38 times each year.  He played in 15 straight All-Star games, on 14 pennant winners, 10 World Champions, more than anyone in history. "Mr. World Series"—Mr. Yogi holds records for games played (75), at-bats (259), hits (71) and is tied with Frankie Frisch for the record in doubles. (10).

“Mr. Berra” for his career batted .285, slammed 358 home runs, batted in 1,430 runs. Incredibly, he averaged just fewer than 5.5 strikeouts per 100 at-bats, never striking out more than 38 times in a season, whiffed just a measly 414 times in 2,120 games.

          Berra played 15 seasons in which he took 300 plate appearances and received MVP votes in every one of them, once putting  together a six-year run of MVP finishes of first, fourth, second, first, first and second.. He is one of two players who hit 350 home runs without striking out 500 times. The other is Joe DiMaggio.

As one decade passed into history, the 1950s, and another came took its place, Yogi Berra was in his middle thirties, a tough time for most catchers.    

   Talented backstop Elston Howard was the future. Casey Stengel realized that as did Yogi. Always a team player, Berra returned to the outfield, winning two more World Series rings, playing the outfield more than he caught.

      In 1964, his momentous and remarkable playing career over, Berra replaced Ralph Houk as Yankee pilot. It was a team that had a great deal of talent that had ripped off a string of four straight pennants. But for Berra and his players, there were lots of struggles for a good part of the season. Rumors made the rounds that Yogi was disrespected by some of his players.

    It was dog days of August. The Yankees had dropped four straight to the White Sox and 10 of their last 15 games. They were on a bus headed to the airport.

           PHIL LINZ: I sat in the back of the bus which was stuck in heavy traffic. It was a sticky humid Chicago summer day. I was bored. I pulled out my harmonica. I had the Learner's Sheet for 'Mary Had a Little Lamb.” So I started fiddling. You blow in. You blow out.

          Yogi Berra came from the front of the bus and told Linz to tone it down. There was a slap directed either at Linz or the harmonica or both.      

     

       Whatever, that incident was a game changer for the Yankee season. Berra got new respect. Linz was elevated to starting shortstop due to injuries to Tony Kubek.

The “Harmonica Incident” momentum propelled the Yanks to a 22-6 record in September, victory in a close pennant race over the White Sox.  The only negative was a seventh game World Series defeat at the hands of the Cardinals. That cost Berra his job. Many, however, claimed the Yankee legend was already on the way out when the "Harmonica Incident" took place no matter how the season finished.  

        Bounce-back-Berra, never out of work for long, moved on to the woeful Mets in 1965. His first manager Casey Stengel was the manager, and at the very tail end of his storied career. By 1969, Stengel was gone, replaced by Gil Hodges as manager. Yogi Berra was still in place as the first base coach. The “Miracle Mets” defeated the Reds in the World Series and became the darlings of New York City baseball.

      In 1972, when Gil Hodges died, Berra became manager. In 1973, he brought the Mets within a game of winning another world championship.  In 1975, restless management pulled the trigger on their manager. On August 6th, with the Mets in third place, with the team having lost five straight, Yogi Berra was fired.

       Resilient, reliable, the workaholic Berra bounced back again as a Yankee coach in 1976. In 1984, George Steinbrenner moved him up as manager replacing Billy Martin, another dizzying move in a revolving door of Yankee pilots over those years.  The 1984 Yankees went 87-75 under Berra, good enough for third place.  Steinbrenner reportedly told Berra in spring training in 1985 that he was his manager that season no matter what happened.

       No matter what happened was forgotten as “the Boss” made it after just 16 games of the season had passed, “Good bye, Yogi” and “Hello again, Billy Martin.”

       More than the firing by Steinbrenner, what really infuriated Berra was that Steinbrenner sent general manager Clyde King to deliver the news of the termination.  Hurt, disgusted with the Yankee owner, the prideful Berra announced he would never to return to Yankee Stadium as long as George Steinbrenner ran the show. The promise was kept for fourteen years. Berra was not even on there in 1988 when plaques honoring him and Bill Dickey were added to Monument Park.

      Rapprochement finally was effected in 1999. Steinbrenner visited Berra in New Jersey, apologized, bringing the great Yankee back into the family. Reports were that “the Boss” told Berra:  “I know I made a mistake by not letting you go personally. It’s the worst mistake I ever made in baseball.”     

         I had two meetings with the unassuming and lovable Lawrence Peter Berra. One took place in the late 1980s when he was a coach for Houston working for his friend, Astros owner, John McMullen.

I was interviewing for Throwing Heat, my autobiography of Nolan Ryan. Entering the Astrodome very early, thinking no one else would be there, I moved into the dugout to organize myself for pre-game interviews.

Yogi Berra was already there, sitting silently, looking odd in the outlandish Crayola uniform of the Astros. We greeted each other and then he uttered a Yogism: “You know, if it rains, we won’t get wet.”  He had gotten off much better ones, but I laughed and agreed with him. We talked a little baseball and then got on with our day.  

I didn’t think of reminding him of another time we had met in a different dugout - at Shea Stadium in 1975 - when he managed the Mets. That time my publisher had given me a letter that said something about extending all professional courtesies to “Dr. Harvey Frommer” (a reference to my Ph.D.)

  Yogi looked at the letter and smiled and said, “It’s always good to have another doctor around. People get sick. What can I do for you?”

      He did so much for me and for so many others through all those Yogi Berra seasons. Number 8, was part of the “greatest generation,” real, wise, human, talented, truly one of a kind.

           Accolades and honors deservedly came Yogi Berra’s way.  He was elected into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1972. In 1988, he received a plague in Monument Park. The inscription carries the line: "It ain't over 'til it's over."

      It was over for him at age 90. He passed away on Tuesday September 22, 2015, the 69th anniversary of his Major League debut.

The above profile is excerpted from the author’s THE ULTIMATE YANKEE BOOK which debuts this fall. PRE ORDER from AMAZON: http://www.frommerbooks.com/ultimate-yankees.html .

About Harvey Frommer:  One of the most prolific and respected sports journalists and oral historians in the United States, author of the autobiographies of legends Nolan Ryan, Tony Dorsett, and Red Holzman, Dr. Harvey Frommer is an expert on the New York Yankees and has arguably written more books, articles and reviews on the New York Yankees than anyone.   In 2010, he was honored by the City of New York to serve as historical consultant for the re-imagined old Yankee Stadium site, Heritage Field. A professor for more than two decades in the MALS program at Dartmouth College, Frommer was dubbed “Dartmouth’s Mr. Baseball” by their alumni magazine.