If you play word association with the name of Fritz Peterson, then the subjects “wife-swapping” and “Mike Kekich” will come up almost immediately. But the reality is far more nuanced. Peterson was a fine major league pitcher, the possessor of 133 career victories, a 20-win campaign, and an All-Star Game berth. From 1969 to 1973, Peterson ranked as the Yankees’ No. 2 starter, situated behind only staff ace Mel Stottlemyre.

The recently-completed Hall of Fame Weekend gave me the chance to sit down with the amiable left-hander, who spent much of his time in Cooperstown signing autographs with ex-teammate Ron Blomberg at the local CVS. Immensely gracious in granting me a lengthy interview, Peterson talked about Hollywood, the late Ralph Houk, his new book, his ongoing battle with cancer, and a few of his old Topps cards.

Markusen: Fritz, let’s first talk about the movie project that you’re going to be working on; you’ll be a consultant on The Trade. What’s the latest on that?

Peterson: Well, the latest is that Ben Affleck is doing some revisions to the original screenplay that has been done by David Mandel, who’s part of the Curb Your Enthusiasm group and did a lot of stuff with Seinfeld, just a good guy. But Ben wants to be the director of it at this point, so he’s changing it a little bit the way that he wants it. So we’re just waiting to see when Matt Damon gets involved. And then we’ll go from there.

Markusen: As a consultant, I take it you’ll be on the set of the film?

Peterson: From time to time. I don’t know exactly the schedule yet.

Markusen: Is your biggest goal just to try to keep it as accurate as possible?

Peterson: Well, that would be my goal. When I was out there with the screenwriter two years ago, that’s exactly what I wanted to do, just tell 100 per cent of the truth, and I hope that it gets close to that.

Markusen: Now, Affleck’s considered a pretty good looking guy; I guess you’re flattered he’s going to be playing you.

Peterson: You know, actually, I asked them to have Matt Damon play me because Matt can throw harder [laughing], plus he’s the shorter guy and he’s got blue eyes. I have the light eyes, and Mike Kekich had the dark eyes, and was taller.

Markusen: When you were first approached about this, were you surprised that they were interested in your story, your situation, as being part of a feature film?

Peterson: I was surprised [at the interest] from the people at that level, because we’ve been offered things by people at HBO and stuff like that before. But it was never big screen and big people like this before.

They’ve been interested in this since 1999. And then in 2006, we came together on an agreement, and we’re proceeding from there.

Markusen: Final question on the film itself: any chance that you’ll make some kind of a cameo in the movie playing someone else?

Peterson: No. [laughing] I’m not going to be like Alfred Hitchcock either and be seen walking through [one of the scenes]. I’m too old and too ugly.

Markusen: Well, I don’t know about that.

Let’s talk about some other current events, as the case may be. Earlier in the week, we learned of the passing of your former manager, Ralph Houk, at the age of 90. Tell us what it was like to play for Ralph Houk. What was he like as a manager?

Peterson: It’s like, Bruce, playing for your dad, with all the confidence that a father would have in a son playing ball. You could trust Ralph just like a father; it just felt like that. Ralph was the kind of guy that once you earned a job on his team, you had to work your way out of it. He would not be like Steinbrenner actually would and pull some out of a game or out of the rotation for making an error.

Ralph was just golden. I’m happy that he got to live this long. He was a wonderful person. And I’ll miss him. I had intended on talking to him before his death, but usually you think of those things afterward. I’ll miss him.

Markusen: Some managers are characterized as hitters’ managers, some are characterized as pitchers’ managers. In general, how did Ralph treat pitchers?

Peterson: Great. We all knew our jobs. We all knew when he was coming out to get us. We all knew that he was going to give us a 100 per cent chance to win that ballgame, to stay through five innings. We knew his whole routine, and he always stuck by that. He was very predictable and very fair.

Markusen: How did he compare to some of the other managers in your career as you moved on to other teams?

Peterson: Well, he was always the best. I had Frank Robinson when he became the first black manager, and he was interesting. He was a lot better when he first started, as compared to when time went on, because he couldn’t understand how players couldn’t all play like him. Because he was so top-notch when he played. But Ralph was never a high-level player like that. I had [Ken] Aspromonte for awhile, and I had, let’s see who the last one was with the Rangers. [Editor’s Note: Peterson’s final manager was Frank Lucchesi.]

But nobody compared to Ralph. Bill Virdon came right after Ralph [in New York]. The players didn’t like him. They were used to Ralph treating them as players that had been there. And Bill was just a very straight-line guy. Good guy, but didn’t have any friends from the past. His pitching coach came with him, and he wasn’t part of the Yankee system. So it was tough for Bill.

Markusen: He didn’t have the emotional connection to the team?

Peterson: Exactly. And then when Billy Martin came in, I wasn’t there anymore. I wish I would have been; that would have been fun [laughing].

Markusen: Let’s talk about some of the other memories you have from the late sixties and early seventies. I have to talk about a guy that was very important to all of you pitchers, Thurman Munson. Take us through what it was like, a typical game with Thurman catching you. What kind of interactions went on during the game?

Peterson: Nothing serious. Thurman respected us, especially Stottlemyre and myself. And we respected him as a young, cocky catcher that had all the confidence in the world. We worked well together because we knew what we wanted to throw and he learned what we wanted to throw and how we wanted to throw. And it was a very nice relationship.

And Thurman was a fun guy on the team. We took him in as part of our little group of people that had fun on the team. On road trips, and stuff like that. Thurman was real special, and he was a real gamer, meaning that he would take out a second baseman on double plays, he would run over a catcher if he had to. He was just 100 per cent a team man. And all of our guys were not like that at the time. We really respected that out of Thurman–and Bobby Murcer.

Markusen: I’ve heard pitchers rave about the way that Munson would handle a game, call a game, and deal with the pitcher. Tell us about Thurman from that standpoint.

Peterson: Well, Thurman was very intelligent. He could see what was happening out there on the mound with us. If we were having trouble with a certain pitch, he knew how to stay away from it from time to time, and in crucial spots. And he gave us confidence in ourselves. He understood us, even though we were older than him and had been there longer; he had that cockiness and assurance that he was calling the right pitches. And so did we.

Markusen: You mentioned Bobby Murcer. Briefly talk about him as a teammate and what he was like.

Peterson: Same thing as Thurman. Just a good guy and teammate. He would do the same thing, take out a guy at second base and a catcher at home. He was always 100 per cent out there, diving for fly balls, throwing and giving his best. A good guy, a good man to be around. He would help out with personal situations if anybody needed it. It was a nice family feeling, especially with those two guys.

Markusen: It’s hard to believe they’re both gone now.

Peterson: It’s terrible.

Markusen: Tell us about the guys from those Yankee teams that you still keep in touch with, that you’re still friendly with today. Anybody in particular?

Peterson: Well, Mel Stottlemyre is the main one. And we don’t [actually] talk that much either. But when we do, it’s like we were NEVER apart. It was like yesterday was our last game together, and we’re right there the next day. Mel and I have kept up with each other with our illnesses, with cancer, and stuff like that. We do more keeping up with each other on that than other personal things. Again, it was like yesterday that we were together, and we feel like that’s how it will be tomorrow when we get together.

Markusen: Do you talk to any of the other pitchers: Kekich, Bahnsen, Lyle, any of those guys?

Peterson: Sparky, once in awhile. Bahnsen, once in awhile at fantasy camp. It’s not that I don’t want to talk to the other people, it’s just that we never seem to get together. Fantasy camp down in Tampa is the time that I see these guys. A lot of the guys that go [to fantasy camp] are guys that I didn’t play with. Like Mel isn’t there very often. He was there a couple of years ago and that was a lot of fun. Some of the newer guys I didn’t play with.

Markusen: Who was the most colorful guy you had as a teammate from those teams? Perhaps not a guy that wasn’t that famous or well-known, but was just really offbeat, unusual, colorful. Any one guy that comes to mind?

Peterson: Well, it would be three guys really: Jim Bouton would be one, Mike Kekich would be another, and then Sparky Lyle would be the one that fit the bill the most. Those guys were really spontaneous.

Markusen: You’ve read Bouton’s book, I imagine?

Peterson: I haven’t. I have it at home, I have a couple of copies. I didn’t read it because I didn’t want to make enemies of the guys he wrote about because I didn’t want to say it’s a great book. And I didn’t want to NOT read it because Jim’s a friend of mine.

Markusen: As I recall, he said good things about you in the book.

Peterson: Yes, he did. We were roommates–so I’m glad of that [laughing].

Markusen: You mentioned a moment ago the cancer that you’re dealing with. I believe it’s prostate cancer. How are you doing on that?

Peterson: I’m doing fine. I don’t read up on what’s coming up next because I trust my doctors on that, and I don’t want to get too far ahead of myself. I had prostate cancer in 2000 and I went through the radioactive seeds, the therapy, and it failed. And I didn’t find that out until 2006. And then at that time I got involved in a research project at the University of Iowa because [the doctors] didn’t know how to stop it once you‘ve had that original procedure. So I’m in that research program and right now I’m undergoing hormone therapy, which is something to stop it [the cancer] for awhile. And I’m waiting for another possibility in our research group that I’ll be able to get a booster shot from the Federal Drug Administration if they approve it, so that’ll increase my chances of staying around a little longer. But right now I’m not worried about it. I go back to my doctors in two weeks and they’ll decide whether to do another hormone therapy shot or not. And then I’ll wait another four months from there, and another four months from there.

With Mel, he has, or he had multiple myloma, and he has to go back every month, so that’s a little more strenuous than what I’ve got.

That’s the reason I did this book, Mickey Mantle Is Going To Heaven, because I really needed to know the answer to salvation when I got this latest scare. If people are interested in buying it, they can look on amazon.com. It’s a good read, it tells a little bit about life, and it also tells about the Yankees, the things we’re talking about now, the things inside of the clubhouse, and with Mantle.

And Ron Blomberg is standing around the corner from us. He said to say something good about him. He ended up winning my last game for me at the old, original Yankee Stadium, with a two-run home run. That’s the only good thing I can say about him. But he’s a good guy.

Markusen: Let me ask you about the book. Did you write it yourself, or did you have a professional writer work with you?

Peterson: No, I didn’t [have a writer]. I wrote it myself. I had sent Marty Appel, who authored the Munson book, a couple of chapters and I had thought about him about co-writing it with me, but when he read those chapters, he said, ‘You don’t need a co-writer.’ So I just did it myself. There’s a couple of errors in there that I’d like to change, but it was just me, and it’s interesting.

Markusen: Final topic, Fritz. I’m a big baseball card collector. I like to get players’ reaction to seeing themselves on old baseball cards. I’ve got an action card from 1972, where you’ve got a pretty good motion here, and then the finish of your motion on this 1973 card, which looks pretty good here. When you see these old cards of yourself, what comes to mind?

Peterson: You know, I didn’t pay any attention to the form or the motion until you pointed that out. It’s pretty good form! [laughing] But in writing this book, I ran across so many memories, it was like I was right back there again. And looking at these cards, paying attention to them now like you’ve pointed out, it makes me appreciate those. I’m glad I’m in one, a lot of different cards. I don’t even believe I was there sometimes. The time flies. Was that really me, during that time, or wasn‘t it? The cards, the reflections, help bring it back. And I’m very happy to have been there, especially as a Yankee.

Markusen: Do you have every one of your Topps cards?

Peterson: Yes, I have them, have one of each in a file cabinet.

Markusen: Is there a favorite one that comes to mind?

Peterson: There’s an ugly one. It’s ugly. That’s the rookie card, which is a split card, and I look like a convict on that one.

Bruce Markusen writes “Cooperstown Confidential” for The Hardball Times.

Houk’s first three seasons as a manager seemingly had him ticketed for a place in the Hall of Fame. Right off the bat, he led the Yankees to world championships in 1961 and ‘62, before falling short of a third consecutive title in the 1963 World Series against the Dodgers. If Houk had guided just one other team to a world championship, whether with the Yankees, Tigers, or Red Sox, I believe we’d be celebrating him today as a resident of Cooperstown. But that third title never came. In fact, Houk never again finished first in the regular season, either a pennant or a division title, and never made it back to the World Series. His Yankee teams from his second tenure in New York simply weren’t good enough, his Tigers teams were mired in rebuilding mode after the glory years of Kaline and Cash, and his Red Sox lacked the requisite pitching to win in the early 1980s. There simply is no guarantee, no birthright, when it comes to winning it all.

As it was, two world championships put Houk in elite territory. He is one of a handful of managers with two titles who remain on the outside looking in when it comes to Cooperstown; the others are Bill Carrigan, Tom Kelly, Danny Murtaugh, and three current managers, Terry Francona, Cito Gaston, and Tony LaRussa, who are not yet eligible for the Hall of Fame. That’s pretty good company. Murtaugh deserves to be in the Hall, LaRussa will be one day, and strong arguments can be made for Francona and Gaston. One can be made for Houk, too.

Aside from wins and losses, Houk left behind a distinct legacy. A veteran of World War II, Houk was a true war hero, having led his Ranger battalion during the Battle of the Bulge, an effort that earned him a Purple Heart and a Bronze Star. Hence, he was called “The Major,” a nickname that matched his title during the war. Not surprisingly, he brought a level of toughness and respect from the battlefield to the ballfield. On three different occasions, he engaged in physical confrontations with sportswriters (including Maury Allen of the New York Post) whom he felt had treated him or his team unfairly.

At the same time, Houk was a players’ manager who exhibited patience to the extreme. He sometimes showed too much patience, allowing players like Bobby Richardson and Horace Clarke to bat in the leadoff spot well after they had proven they could not. On the other hand, he nurtured veteran players ranging in personality from Mickey Mantle to Tony Kubek, allowed Whitey Ford to pitch every fourth day, and developed young talents like Thurman Munson, Bobby Murcer, and Roy White.

Underrated to this day, Ralph Houk was, to say the least, an accomplished manager…

***

As next week’s July 31st trading deadline draws closer, we’re hearing more and more rumors about what the Yankees might do. The bullpen still appears to be priority No. 1, with relievers in Oakland (lefty Craig Breslow and righty Michael Wuertz) and Toronto (lefty Scott Downs and righty Kevin Gregg) stirring interest in the Bronx.

The Yankees also have a desire to beef up the bench, which has resulted in talks with the Marlins, who can offer either Cody Ross or Jorge Cantu, or perhaps both.

Of all the players I’ve heard rumored, a member of the Indians makes the most sense. The Yankees like Jhonny Peralta, the converted shortstop who is now playing third base and batting cleanup for Cleveland. Peralta’s power numbers are down (seven home runs and a .400 slugging percentage), to the point that the Indians may not pick up his option for 2011. As such, the Indians probably won’t ask as much for Peralta as the Marlins would for Cantu or Ross.

I like Peralta for the Yankees. He’s not the star that the Indians once envisioned, but he’s a solid player who would fit in well as a super-utility man on a good team. He’s still only 28, can play both third and short, and would give the Yankees depth and flexibility. Derek Jeter and Alex Rodriguez need more frequent days off than they once did; Peralta could spell either one, while also serving as a right-handed hitting DH. If nothing else, he’d be a major offensive improvement over both Ramiro Pena and Kevin Russo (now back in Triple-A), who simply don’t have enough power to fill in effectively as third basemen or designated hitters.

***

As usual, former Yankees will make their presence felt in Cooperstown for Hall of Fame Weekend, which officially kicks off on Friday and culminates in Sunday’s induction ceremony. Yogi Berra won’t be able to make it after the fall he suffered last weekend, but plenty of other pinstriped alumni will be in town. In addition to the usual suspects (Wade Boggs, Paul Blair, Reggie Jackson, Dave Winfield, Whitey Ford, Phil Niekro, Ron Guidry, and Goose Gossage), two ex-Yankees will be making a rare visit to the area. They are Ron Blomberg and Fritz Peterson, both of whom played extensively for Ralph Houk.

Peterson, who is battling prostate cancer, isn’t allowing the disease to slow him down. He’s involved in the film project centered on the wife swap that he and Mike Kekich engineered in 1973. Peterson will serve as an advisor on The Trade, a film starring Ben Affleck and Matt Damon, which is currently in development.

Peterson is also continuing to promote his 2009 book, Mickey Mantle Is Going To Heaven, which has received positive reviews for its forthright revelations about the Yankees of the late sixties and early seventies, and its candid opinions on legends like Joe DiMaggio.

Fritz sounds like a man worth meeting.

Bruce Markusen, a resident of Cooperstown, writes Cooperstown Confidential for The Hardball Times.

Quite obviously, George Steinbrenner treated his employees quite differently, particularly his office secretaries, public relations directors, general managers, and field managers. If I had worked for The Boss, I would have lasted about a day and a half. I suspect that I would have reacted to his first tirade with a few choice words of my own, or at least a prompt letter of resignation. Steinbrenner’s mistreatment of his underlings was one of his worst traits, a character flaw that was mocked so skillfully by Larry David in so many of those classic Seinfeld episodes.

While I can offer no defense of the way The Boss treated people in the front office, I have long been a defender of his old habit of railing against Yankee players and performance. He made an art form of critiquing slumping Yankee teams during the 1970s and eighties. My father and I found those media sessions to be great theater, often hysterically funny. And, here’s the thing, they were usually justified. When Steinbrenner issued one of his scathing assessments, they came in response to a prolonged period of poor play, seeming lack of effort, or general underachievement. He reacted just like fans would, just like fans at Bronx Banter usually do when the team fails to win.

I never felt sympathy for the players in those situations. Steinbrenner almost always paid his players well, even the backups and the middle relievers, and generally provided first- class amenities in the clubhouse, on the team’s charter, and at Yankee functions. When you make big money and enjoy the luxury of big league life, and then you don’t perform up to expectation, you have no right to complain when The Boss gets mad about it. Imagine that, a high-paying owner expecting his players to live up to their reputations and their salaries.

On a larger scale, Steinbrenner brought vivid color and personality to the owner’s box. Unlike too many of the owners in today’s corporate front office structure, Steinbrenner was passionate about his team, engrossed fully in the game as a fan, and knowledgeable about its many subtleties. As Bill Madden emphasizes in his new biography, Steinbrenner may very well be the last owner who was larger than life, a fully bloomed character.

I suspect that Madden is right. Now that The Boss is gone for good, the game has become a little less interesting.

***

Lost amidst the massive amount of coverage given to the passing of The Boss was the recent death of one of the organization’s most loyal farmhands of the 1970s and eighties. Frank Verdi, who managed Yankee affiliates for the better part of his 21-year career as a minor league skipper, died last Friday at the age of 84. Often entrusted with the responsibility of guiding Yankee prospects, Verdi managed the Oneonta Yankees during their first year of existence in 1967, before being promoted to Triple-A Syracuse, where he led the Chiefs to back-to-back titles in 1969 and ‘70.

Verdi left the organization in the mid-seventies to become a manager in the Mets’ system, but was eventually brought back to the Yankees by Steinbrenner. In 1981, Verdi guided the Columbus Clippers to an International League title, giving him three championships at the minor league level. He accomplished this despite knowing that he was never a candidate to manage the Yankees at the highest level.

It was something of a miracle that Verdi managed at all. As a minor league player with the Rochester Red wings, Verdi somehow survived a nearly tragic accident. As the Red Wings played the Havana Sugar Kings on July 25, 1959, Verdi found himself coaching third base after manager Cot Deal was ejected from the game. As Verdi coached from his position down the third base line, a fan fired a gun from the stands in Havana, the bullet striking Verdi in the head. Verdi was wearing only a soft cap at the time, but it still had the plastic liner used during his at-bats. The bullet ricocheted off the plastic liner, embedding in his shoulder. Verdi suffered a minor shoulder wound, a far better injury than the possibly fatal head wound that could have resulted.

Not to be intimidated by a stray bullet, Verdi lived another 51 years past that day.

***

The waiver wire is becoming a crowded place, and an interesting one at that. Last weekend, the Rays released Hank Blalock after designating him for assignment. And now, former Orioles closer George Sherrill has been placed on waivers by the Dodgers, as a direct response to an ERA that is approaching seven and a half.

Both players could fit needs for the Yankees. Let’s begin with Blalock. With Nick “The Stick” Johnson’s wrist hurting again after surgery, Blalock would make sense as a left-handed DH and platoon partner for Marcus “Mister” Thames. Blalock can also play third base, giving Joe Girardi the option of resting Alex Rodriguez as a DH once or twice a week. Although Blalock hit poorly in limited duty for the Rays, I’m not convinced that his career is cooked. He’s still only 29, slugged a respectable .459 with Texas in 2009, and is only two seasons removed from a season in which he slugged .508. All in all, he has a better resume than Chad Tracy, whom the Yankees recently signed to a minor league contract and has been playing at Triple-A Scranton/Wilkes Barre.

Although Sherrill looks like he has been dining on the Wilbur Wood food plan of late, he could fill a role as a late-inning left-hander, a job in which Damaso Marte has been shaky. But Sherrill’s contract situation is a bit more problematic. In placing him on waivers, the Dodgers are banking that no other teams will claim the hefty lefty, who is due about half of his $4.5 million contract for the remainder of 2010. If Sherrill does clear waivers, the Dodgers could send him to the minors, but only if gives his permission. Perhaps the Yankees could work out a deal with the Dodgers in which the two teams split the difference on the contract, while the Yankees send the Dodgers a low-level minor leaguer as compensation. Then again, if Sherrill refuses the demotion, he would become a free agent, allowing the Yankees to sign him for the major league minimum.

Let’s remember that this is the same George Sherrill who put up an 0.65 ERA in 30 appearances for the Dodgers last season. If he can straighten out his mechanics, he could be effective again. Of course, the 33-year-old southpaw would have to shave that large goatee–not to mention do some work on that large belly and those thick thighs–before joining the Yankees for the second half. Perhaps David Wells’ uniform is still available.

Bruce Markusen writes “Cooperstown Confidential” for The Hardball Times.

It’s been nearly two years to the day that Bobby Murcer left us at the age of 62. I should have accepted this tragedy by now–it should have sunk in by this time–but his passing still stings. It still hurts that Murcer is no longer part of the Yankee broadcast booth, not to mention those wonderful Old-Timers’ Day reunions.

In looking for some consolation as we approach the second anniversary of his death, I can take some solace in his 1980 Topps card. For me, this card provided concrete evidence that Murcer had indeed returned to the organization in 1979, after a six-year layoff from the Bronx. That season became a swirl of disappointment, injuries, tragedy, and melancholy, but the return of Murcer represented at least one positive development.

The good news came on June 26, exactly 11 days after the official trading deadline of June 15. In the midst of an off season with the Cubs, Murcer slipped through waivers in both leagues, allowing the Yankees to acquire him for a minor league pitching prospect named Paul Semall. A lanky right-hander, Semall had won 17 games pitching at Double-A West Haven in 1978, but lacked a bigtime fastball. He was a decent prospect, but hardly a blue chipper. As it turned out, he never pitched in the major leagues, not for the Cubs or anyone else. Still, it wouldn’t have mattered much to me if Semall had become a 15-game winner for the Cubs; I was just thrilled that Murcer had returned to pinstripes, where he belonged.

As seen on his 1980 Topps card, Murcer brought a bit of a different look to his Yankee uniform in comparison to his earlier tenure. He now wore a helmet with a protective flap, having abandoned the old-style flapless helmet that was so common in the 1960s. He also brandished a large shin guard on his right leg, something that he had not worn in his earlier days.

Perhaps the extra equipment was a testament to his advancing age. Murcer was significantly older, at least in terms of baseball years. I didn’t much care that Murcer was now 33 and had already begun the declining stage of his career. He no longer had the power to hit 20-plus home runs a season and could no longer play center field the way that he had done for much of his first tenure in the Bronx. Yet, he still had real value as a role player. I figured that if the Yankees were smart, they would use him as a part-time left-fielder, platoon DH, and pinch-hitter extraordinaire off the bench. Those roles could all be filled in 1980, by which the time the Yankees figured to reload for another run at the American League East.

Yet, Murcer still had work to do in 1979. Some of that work involved the intangibles of leadership and grace, especially under a heavy veil of tragedy. On August 2, Murcer’s best friend in baseball, Thurman Munson, died in that horrendous plane crash in Canton, Ohio. Murcer eulogized his friend at the funeral service for the beloved catcher. Not so coincidentally, Murcer became a source of inspiration to his teammates, who were crying for leadership in the midst of a season gone mad.

Just hours after attending Munson’s funeral, the realities of the 1979 American League schedule dictated that the Yankees play a Monday night game against the Orioles. Though the season was long gone by then, a nationally televised game on ABC became a must-see event for diehard fans of the Yankees. Even if it was only to hear what Howard Cosell had to say about the Yankees, Monday Night Baseball was a necessity in the Markusen house.

Murcer was not supposed to play that night; manager Billy Martin had wanted to give him the game off because of the emotional stress of delivering one of the Munson eulogies. But Murcer told his manager that he wanted to play. As a vested veteran, he convinced Martin to change his lineup.

As with many games in 1979, the Monday night affair did not begin well for the Yankees. They trailed the Orioles, 4-0, and, understandably, seemed emotionally exhausted in the aftermath of the Munson funeral. Then, circumstances began to change in the seventh inning. Murcer initiated a comeback with a three-run homer. Still, the Yankees trailed by a run heading to the bottom of the ninth. Facing Orioles relief ace Tippy Martinez with two runners on base, Murcer laced a pitch down the left field line, bringing home both runners to win the game in melodramatic fashion.

If Hollywood had presented such a game as part of one its scripts, it would have come across as ludicrous. But in the real life setting of an actual major league game, Murcer’s five-RBI, comeback-capping performance made for wonderful theater. In a season in which so much had gone drastically wrong, Murcer had given the Yankees and their fans some reason to breathe and enjoy the game again.

Given such a performance–and his eminently productive second half bat–how could the Yankees not bring Murcer back for the 1980 season? Playing under Dick Howser’s multi-tiered platoon system, Murcer bristled at his lack of a fulltime role but again emerged as a reliable part-time player. Showing a knack for both situational hitting and timely batting, Murcer led the American League with nine sacrifice flies and also delivered 13 game-winning RBIs to place him among the league leaders.

Murcer remained useful in a lessened role in 1981. On Opening Day against the Rangers, Murcer came off the bench to hit a pinch-hit grand slam. Although he came to bat only 130 times that summer, he compiled an OPS of .801, making him one of the more effective bench players in the league. It was not until 1982 that Murcer showed major decline as a role player. A slow start to the 1983 season, coupled with the Yankees’ desire to make room for a young Don Mattingly, convinced Murcer that the time was right to announce his retirement.

Murcer’s second tenure with the Yankees added up to parts of five seasons. Though he had only a fractional amount of the talent that he had displayed for New York in the late sixties and early seventies, Murcer played more than respectably as a valued platoon and bench player. Just as importantly, that second stint gave us fans the chance to enjoy Bobby Murcer playing his final days–the right way–as a Yankee.

Bruce Markusen writes “Cooperstown Confidential” for The Hardball Times.

In working last Sunday’s game with the Dodgers, Hershiser pointedly discussed the Yankees’ needs as they approach the July 31st trading deadline. He pinned the tail correctly, as he listed the bullpen and the bench as the two areas the Yankees should target in trying to strengthen themselves for the final two months of the season. That runs counter to all of the columnist and beat writers who have suggested the Yankees make a priority of adding Cliff Lee to their rotation. But the acquisition of Lee would not address a weakness for the Yankees. Outside of alternating slumps by Javier Vazquez and A.J. Burnett, the Yankee rotation has been firm and formidable. There are also competent reinforcements at Triple-A Scranton/Wilkes Barre, where prospects Ivan Nova and Zack McAllister have pitched reasonably well and remain legitimate second-half options.

Additionally, the asking price for Lee figures to be high. The Mariners will almost certainly ask for Jesus Montero and possibly one other prospect in any deal for their left-handed ace. Given Lee’s age (31) and impending free agent status, Montero should stay off limits to Seattle and everyone else. Finding a solid reliever and/or a good platoon player figures to come at a far less substantial cost than a top-flight left-hander like Lee.

As Hershiser suggests, the bullpen and bench are more pressing needs for New York. With Joba Chamberlain mired in his enigmatic quagmire, and Chan Ho Park and Boone Logan continuing to occupy roster spots that they do not deserve, an effective late-inning reliever becomes a near necessity. Power-armed Mike MacDougal is now available after opting out of his minor league contract with the Nationals. On the trade front, Octavio Dotel, now with the Pirates, might be worth pursuing for a second stint in the Bronx. Or perhaps Arizona’s Chad Qualls, who has been good in recent years before falling off a cliff in 2010, would benefit from escaping the Diamondbacks’ bubonic bullpen plague.

In terms of bench concersn, the Yankees always seem to have someone facing a nagging day-to-day injury, with Brett “The Jet” Gardner the latest victim. So whom should the Yankees target for depth on the bench? The bargain basement shelf includes corner infielder Chad Tracy, recently released by the Cubs. On the trade market, Washington’s hard-hitting Josh Willingham could be an option at DH and a platoon partner for Curtis Granderson (with Brett Gardner moving over to center field). Baltimore’s Ty Wigginton would be an ever better fit. He could DH against lefties, spot Alex Rodriguez at third base on days when he needs to DH, and back up both Robinson Cano and Mark Teixeira on the right side of the infield.

***

It’s official. Jorge Posada is now the worst starting defensive catcher I have seen in nearly 40 years of watching major league ball.

Now let me clarify. I’ve seen poorer defensive catchers than Posada in my day. The list of undistinguished receivers has included players like former Yankee Cliff Johnson (bad hands, ragged arm), ex-Red and ex-Astro Alan Knicely (hands of stone), and former Nationals disaster Matt LeCroy (an arm that only Venus de Milo could love). But they were all part-time players who either served as backup catchers, or spent significant time at other slots, like the outfield and DH. In terms of players who were regulars or full-timers behind the plate, Posada has become catching’s version of Plan Nine From Outer Space.

Hardly a game goes by in which Posada does not allow a hittable pitch to clang off his glove and carom toward the backstop. In many cases, these miscues occur with no one on base and with less than two strikes on the batter, so the damage becomes inconsequential. In other cases, like the finale of this week’s series with Seattle, the inability to catch a routine pitch results in batters advancing, setting up run-scoring situations for the opposition.

Posada has other problems, too. Lacking in quickness and reaction time, he does not smother or block low pitches effectively. At 38 years of age, he no longer throws accurately or with power, making him vulnerable to teams with speed. On the plus side, he does handle pop-ups well. I’ll give him that much. With regard to foul pops, Jorge Posada is one of the better catchers in the game.

Unfortunately, the ability to catch pop-ups ranks low on the priority scale for major league catchers. Then again, Posada did not exactly set high standards for catching efficiency in 2009, a season in which the Yankees still managed to win the world championship. So the Yankees can overcome Posada’s fielding foibles in 2010, as long as he continues to hit and slug at acceptable levels. As long as Posada retains his current offensive prowess, and as long as Joe Girardi continues to massage the situation by giving Posada at least two to three DH appearances a week, the Yankees should be able to survive.

But it is becoming hard to watch Posada work behind the plate. Frankly, it is becoming an embarrassment, one that the Yankees may have to face more forcefully in 2011…

***

As a young fan who became addicted to The Sporting News, the contributions of Cliff Kachline as one of its longtime editors and writers took on special meaning. With conscientious, detail-oriented people like Kachline and the Spink family laying the groundwork, The Sporting News became a must-read weekly newspaper for baseball fans in the 1960s and seventies.

Yet, I knew Cliff Kachline, who passed away on Monday at the age of 88, through more than just his written and edited words. He became the historian at the Hall of Fame and National Baseball Library, remaining in Cooperstown into his retirement years before he later moved to Illinois. That’s how I came to know the man who was so knowledgeable, dignified, and gentlemanly.

When I worked in the Hall of Fame’s programming department, Cliff and his wife Evelyn used to regularly attend Thursday night movies that we offered in the Hall’s Bullpen Theater. The Kachlines always added a welcome, dignified presence to those film sessions, which produced some of my most enjoyable moments at the Hall of Fame. I miss seeing the Kachlines at such events.

I have to admit that I was a bit intimidated when I first met Cliff, largely because of his reputation as a walking baseball encyclopedia. But he managed to eradicate that feeling with his friendly, approachable nature that was helpful to younger writers and researchers like myself. He also had a way of speaking bluntly and honestly, but always with a gentle smile that diffused any potential rancor.

One of the original founders of SABR, Cliff Kachline was a supremely hard worker, a detailed researcher, and a devout fan of the game. Both the local and national SABR communities will greatly miss his knowledge and his presence.

Cooperstown will miss him just as much.

Bruce Markusen writes “Cooperstown Confidential” for The Hardball Times.

I like the journeymen. Most fans, and understandably so, gravitate toward the stars. They like the Derek Jeters, the Mark Teixeiras, and the Mariano Riveras. I like those guys, too. You don’t win world championships without star players who can carry the load for long stretches during the regular season and at critical moments in the postseason.

But I’ve always taken greater interest in the lesser players on a team, those who fill a specific role, either in a platoon or coming off the bench. That’s because those guys have to struggle, in some cases just to stay in the big leagues. Because of that, some of those players work harder than your average player. I identify with those players–whether it’s an Oscar Gamble in the 1970s and eighties, a Luis Sojo in the 1990s, or a Glenallen Hill in 2000. Just like those players, I feel I have to work hard just to keep up, whether it’s teaching, making a speech in front of strangers, or writing one of these columns. It’s a struggle for me, too. I’m no Roger Angell, but I believe I can be a solid contributor by working harder (and perhaps learning more) than the next writer.

Marcus Thames is also one of those guys. I like Marcus Thames, and not just because he sent the Red Sox home with a crushing home run in the bottom of the ninth inning on Monday night. Thames is a journeyman. He started out in the Yankee system, having to overcome the label of being a non-prospect. Somehow, he climbed to the Bronx. He hit a home run in his first major league at-bat against a tall left-hander named Randy Johnson. Still, there were people who didn’t believe in him. Still, he had to prove himself. The Yankees didn’t believe. They traded him to the Rangers for an aging Ruben Sierra. The Rangers didn’t believe either. They granted him free agency, which paved the way for Thames to travel north and sign with the Tigers.

Well, Thames made a career for himself in Detroit. He became a valuable role player, mostly in left field and as a DH, while playing primarily against left-handed pitching. He learned to play first base to make himself more valuable. Along the way, he became known as a terrorizer of left-handed pitching. He hit 26 home runs one season, and 25 in another. Never a star, and almost never an everyday player, but a solid contributor.

When the Tigers decided that age had caught up to his 33-year-old swing, the Yankees came calling again. Still, there were no guarantees. They only offered Thames a minor league contract, with no assurance that he would make the Opening Day roster. After a slow start in the spring, Thames’ hitting picked up, enough to make a successful return to the Bronx.

As of this writing, Marcus Thames is hitting .357 with a slugging percentage of .536. Oh, I know he can’t field worth a lick in the outfield, that his fielding misadventure led directly to a loss against the Red Sox. By all rights, his nickname on defense should be “The Bumbler.” But put a bat in his hand and he can do some damage, particularly when the opposition pitcher hurls from the portside.

So I’ll be rooting for Marcus Thames. Just like my favorite journeymen, he’ll have a place on my team, right next to Oscar Gamble, Luis Sojo, and Glenallen Hill…

***

While it’s clear that I like Thames, I don’t like what the Yankees have been doing with their roster in recent weeks. The 13-man pitching staff is a bad joke, one being repeated over and over by a sad comedian. Joe Girardi keeps insisting that he needs 13 pitchers because of the condition of his bullpen. Well, Brian Cashman needs to tell Girardi to either push his starters further into games, or start using his relievers more often on back-to-back days. Simply put, the 12 main pitchers on the staff have to start carrying a larger load. Perhaps they will, now that Mark Melancon has been sent back to Scranton/Wilkes Barre and replaced by infielder Kevin Russo.

The eight-man bullpen has become like a bad drug addiction in baseball. Managers keep asking for more and more pitchers, the general managers continue to feed the addiction, and the addiction only gets stronger. It’s as if managers have become deathly afraid of the next 18-inning game, which brings with it the possibility that a backup infielder or outfielder will need to pitch an inning or two. The horrors! Well, here’s the reality. Eighteen-inning games rarely happen. And if they do, how about asking one of your relief pitchers to throw more than inning or two? That’s a novel idea. Yes, relief pitchers are actually capable of pitching three or four or five innings at a time without their limbs falling off.

To quote Susan Powter from those awful infomercials of the 1990s, the Yankees (along with other teams) need to STOP THE INSANITY of piling more and more pitchers onto the 25-man roster. If you need more than 11 or 12 pitchers at a time, then you’re not managing the roster properly. So let’s stop the insanity and get back to real baseball, the kind where you actually have a backup catcher, and a couple of reserve outfielders, and some capable pinch-hitters.

Otherwise, we’ll soon be hearing about the necessities of the 14-man pitching staff.

[Photo Credit: NJ.com]

Bruce Markusen will be presenting a paper on baseball cards and popular culture June 2-4 at the annual Cooperstown Symposium on Baseball and American Culture.

The Yankees simply could not have asked for more from Andy Pettitte on Saturday afternoon. Pitching for the first time since missing a start because of minor elbow inflammation, the ageless left-hander threw six and a third scoreless innings against a Twins team that must feel like it’s in “Stepford” doing battle against The Wives. Powered by Pettitte and some late-inning long ball, the Yankees defeated the Twins for the 12th consecutive time, winning 7-1 at Yankee Stadium. In beating Twins ace Francisco Liriano, Pettitte improves to 5-0 on the season.

The Yankee offense supported Pettitte early, scoring single runs in each of the first two innings. In the first, Derek Jeter, Mark Teixeira, and Alex Rodriguez strung together singles to put the Yanks up, 1-0. In the second, the bottom of the order started another rally. After being hit by a pitch, Marcus Thames moved up to second on a Francisco Cervelli sacrifice (is there anything he cannot do?), and scored on Jeter’s second straight single.

Though he was not overpowering (giving up three walks while striking out two), Pettitte was highly effectual as he pitched for the first time in ten days. He encountered his biggest threat in the sixth inning, when he mysteriously threw 11 straight balls out of the strike zone and issued two-out walks to Denard “Not Emma” Span and Orlando Hudson, bringing the great Joe Mauer to the plate as the potential tying run. The game hanging in the balance, the reigning American League MVP catapulted a Pettitte pitch deep to left-center field, but Brett “The Jet” Gardner caught the dangerous drive in the middle of the warning track. Inning over.

Thrilled to watch Pettitte strike out Justin Morneau to start the seventh inning, Joe Girardi turned the game over to the enigmatic David Robertson in the seventh. Robertson recorded one out but allowed the next two runners to reach base, prompting Ron Gardenhire to summon Jim Thome as a pinch-hitter carrying the potential tying run. Limited to under 100 at-bats, Thome had hit five home runs to the tune of a .535 slugging percentage, making him a special threat on a warm day at the Stadium. Girardi, continuing to show faith in Damaso Marte despite his Friday night failures against messers Mauer and Morneau, again called on his veteran left-hander. This time Marte did as he is paid to do, striking out Thome to finish off the two-out threat.

With the Yankees holding a 3-0 lead, but the Twins still within striking distance, the Bombers went to work against the Minnesota bullpen in the seventh. Teixeira inflated the cushion by hitting a mammoth two-run home run to right field. The ball landed in the second deck, in the rare air of the luxury suites, territory that has rarely been penetrated during the one year-plus of the new Stadium’s existence. The resurgent Rodriguez tried to match Teixeira by driving a ball deep into right-center field. At first the ball seemed to have long ball distance, but it banged off the very top of the fence, forcing A-Rod to settle for a double.

Two batters later, Posada did not settle for anything, instead launching a bomb to nearly straightaway center field, the ball caroming off the bullpen wall into the center-field bleachers. With that two-run blast making it 7-0, the romp was on, allowing Girardi to call on his second-tier pitching (translated: Boone Logan) in the eighth and ninth innings and rest Chamberlain and Rivera for another day.

Yankee Doodles: Playing as the DH, Posada led the Yankee attack with three hits. Jeter, Teixeira, and Rodriguez each chipped in with a pair… Joe Mauer broke up a shutout bid with an RBI single against Logan in the eighth inning…The Twins continue to be hexed against the Yankees, and especially so in the Bronx. Since Gardenhire has become Minnesota manager, the Twins have gone 3-25 at the old and new Bronx ballparks… After dropping their weekday series with the Tigers, the Yankees’ win on Saturday guarantees another series victory. The Yankees will gun for the sweep on Sunday, albeit with the suspect Sergio Mitre starting against Nick Blackburn… The Yankees plan to activate Chan Ho Park from the disabled prior to Sunday’s game. To make room for Park, the Yankees will likely send right-hander Ivan Nova back to Scranton/Wilkes Barre. Finally, there is news on Nick Johnson and it isn’t encouraging, though that is hardly a surprise.

[Photo Credit: Frank Franklin II/AP]

I have to admit that I was completely stumped as to what I should write about in this week’s edition of “Card Corner.” Having already exhausted the futility and frustration of the 1990 Yankees, I found myself searching for a new theme. Yet, nothing came to mind.

Then came a barrage of Reggie Jackson-related material in Tuesday’s editions of The Banter. Well, Reggie is always ripe for interesting discussion. I then remembered that I needed to correct an item from a “Card Corner” that appeared in this space back in December of 2007. I had written that Jackson, when he showed up to work for Oakland in the spring in 1972, had become the first major leaguer to sport a mustache since Wally Schang of the old Philadelphia Athletics in 1914.

Wrong. Dead wrong. It’s just not true that Jackson was the first man since Schang to go the mustachioed route. As friend and researcher Maxwell Kates has pointed out, Richie Allen (as he was called back then) actually wore a mustache with the St. Louis Cardinals during the 1970 season. (Felipe Alou might have also worn a mustache with the A’s in 1970, but that is less certain. Another possibility is Richie Scheinblum, who might have grown a mustache with the Cleveland Indians in 1969.) In fact, Allen’s 1971 Topps card, which was photographed after he was traded to the Los Angeles Dodgers, shows a mustache in clear view. So Jackson did not set a new trend. He merely continued what Allen had done over the previous two seasons.

With that cleared up, Jackson is good fodder for conversation, especially when a new in-depth biography about his life has just hit the Internet bookshelves. I have not yet read Dayn Perry’s book, but I’m sure that he has touched upon the following subjects in far greater depth. In particular, the start of Jackson’s professional career, along with his overlooked years in Oakland, have always fascinated me. So let’s take a closer look.

By all rights, Jackson should have started his career in New York, but with the Mets, not the Yankees. In 1966, the Mets owned the No. 1 pick in the June amateur draft. They faced a choice of drafting Jackson, a young African-American outfielder out of Arizona State, or a left-handed, power-hitting catcher named Steve Chilcott. With Jackson destined to make the major leagues within two seasons, the Mets would have formulated one of the game’s best and most athletic outfields: smooth-swinging Cleon Jones, who would bat .340 during the miracle season of 1969; Gold Glover and power-hitting Tommie Agee in center; and the rifle-armed Jackson in right field. I can’t think of any outfield in that era that would have combined such speed, defensive range, and power, with the possible exception of the early 1970s Giants outfield that featured Willie Mays in center flanked by a young Ken Henderson (look up his early numbers) in left field and a budding Bobby Bonds in right field.

As we all know, the dream outfield of Jones-Agee-Jackson never materialized at Shea Stadium. Instead of taking Jackson, the Mets chose Chilcott, who would play seven minor league seasons but never play a single game in the major leagues. Rumors have always swirled that the Mets opted not to take Jackson because he liked to date white women. I tend to believe the rumors, especially given the presence of George Weiss as Mets general manager. Weiss was the same man who had decided to integrate the Yankees at a snail’s pace during the 1950s.

The perception of Jackson’s talent has also been a source of controversy, though for less incendiary reasons. I’ve long contended that the portrayal of Jackson as a one-dimensional slugger is overly simplistic–along with being just plain wrong. As a member of the A’s, Reggie was a well-rounded four-tool talent. In addition to the established power, Reggie could steal bases, range far in right field, and heave cannon shots toward the infield. With the A’s, Jackson had enough athleticism to make more than token appearances in center field. From 1967 to 1974, Jackson played 172 games in center field for the A‘s, including 92 appearances for the 1972 world champions. He wasn’t a particularly good center fielder–he was probably a bit below average, let‘s call it a ‘3‘ on a Strat-O-Matic card–but he was often the best available candidate for managers Dick Williams and Alvin Dark.

By the time that Reggie joined the Yankees in 1977, the idea of playing him in center field was unthinkable; I suspect that in addition to becoming too muscle bound, he had problems with his vision and depth perception that made outfielding a major chore. But for the first seven to eight seasons of his career, Jackson was a true triple threat as a power hitter, capable defender, and proficient base stealer.

And he was pretty good at growing a mustache, thought not exactly the trendsetter that I had originally portrayed him to be. Somehow, I think Reggie will get over it.

Bruce Markusen will present a program on baseball cards at the Cooperstown Symposium on Baseball and American Culture June 2-4.

How badly has Thames played in the outfield for the Yankees? Every time the ball is hit in his direction, diehard Yankee fans begin to clutch their chests. Thames gets bad breaks on the ball, struggles in trying to track the ball, and then, even if he reaches the ball, has trouble holding on to it. That, friends, is the Triple Crown of fielding incompetence.

Thames’ play in left field has been so historically bad that it has me thinking of the worst defensive outfielders I’ve ever seen. I’ve been watching baseball since the early 1970s, giving me a chance to observe about 40 years of horrific outfield play. All of the following players could hit, but they each managed to play the outfield with such a lack of skill that the results bordered on the comical.

(Left Field) Kevin Reimer: Remarkably, Reimer averaged an error for every ten games he played in the outfield. He was particularly bad on those rare occasions when his teams dared to put him in right field, where he posted an .875 fielding percentage. This former Rangers and Brewers outfielder tried real hard, but he had no instincts, couldn’t run, couldn’t catch, and couldn’t throw. When it comes to awful fielders, Reimer had it all.

(Left Field) Greg “The Bull” Luzinski: The Bull played like the proverbial “bull in a china shop,” in left field, combining incredibly slow feet with a weak arm and a general awkwardness. Having to play on the artificial turf of the old Veterans Stadium only underscored Luzinski’s lack of speed and coordination. It remains a mystery why the Phillies ever moved him from his original position at first base.

(Left field) Lonnie “Skates” Smith: A standout with both the Cardinals and Royals, Smith ran as fleetly as any of his outfield contemporaries, but he encountered problems in other areas. Such as staying on his feet. Like the proverbial drunken sailor, Smith fell down a lot, so much so that he earned the label of Skates. Balls hit into the gaps and down the lines posed special problems since they required more running from the fall-prone Smith. Smith also had poor hands for an outfielder, so even if he stayed on his feet, there was no assurance that he would hold onto the ball.

(Left field) Luis Polonia: Like Skates, the ex-Yankee had speed to burn, but his other deficiencies more than negated his one strength as a defender. Polonia tended to take adventurous routes to the ball, especially on drives over his head. He also featured a subpar throwing arm, a problem that was exacerbated by his tendency to lob parachutes toward the infield. The high hang time would have worked ideally if Polonia was punting footballs, but the looping throws often eluded the cutoff man and ended up in no-man’s land.

Polonia was also memorable for the size of his outfielder’s glove, which often exceeded the maximum limits of the rule book. At times, Polonia’s glove looked more like a frying pan.

(Center Field) Willie Montanez: Another former Phillie, Montanez lasted only two seasons in center field before management mercifully moved him to first base. Montanez would become a Gold Glove caliber first baseman, but he lacked the foot speed and the tracking ability needed to play in the middle of the outfield. An honorable mention goes to Ralph “The Roadrunner” Garr, who would have won the balloting at this position if only he had played more than 63 games in center field.

(Center Field) Gene Richards: Like The Roadrunner, Geno had terrific lateral speed, but it rarely brought him to the ball without misadventure. Richards ran bad routes and possessed pitchfork hands, a deadly combination for a center fielder. The Padres wisely played him in left field, but he struggled almost as badly there as he did in center field. And just for good measure, Richards couldn’t throw either.

(Right Field) Pedro Guerrero: Given the demands of the position, where both agility and a strong throwing arm are usually required, it’s hard to find someone truly awful for this spot. But Guerrero fits the bill. He didn’t care much for fielding–and it showed. Guerrero could throw, but everything else proved a challenge. He might have been better off holding a bat in right field.

(Right Field) Adam Dunn: The “Big Donkey” has played far more games in left field, but we needed a right fielder so we’ll plug him in here. Dunn is the slowest outfielder I’ve seen since Luzinski in the early 1980s, a kind of Boog Powell of the outer pasture. Combining his lack of speed with awkward movements and a bad throwing arm, Dunn achieved new lows with his outfield play. Thankfully, the Nationals moved him to first base and have no intent of returning him to the outfield.

***

As someone who has lived and worked in Cooperstown for 14 years, I’m often asked, “What are the Hall of Fame players like? Who are the nicest guys among the Hall of Famers?” In response to the latter question, my answer usually starts with Brooks Robinson and proceeds toward Fergie Jenkins, Phil Niekro, and Billy Williams. And then, it includes Robin Roberts.

Roberts, who died unexpectedly on Thursday morning at age 83, was one of those baseball greats who made you feel like you mattered, whether you were an intern at the Hall of Fame or the institution’s president. Always a welcome sight in Cooperstown, he had never missed an induction ceremony since his own enshrinement in 1976. Quietly proud of his Hall of Fame membership, Roberts loved Cooperstown like the most loyal of friends.

As a pitcher, we all know what a wonderful workhorse Roberts was for those Phillies teams of the 1950s. Yet, I’ve always been curious about his would-be days as a Yankee. Even though Roberts never actually appeared in a game with the Yankees, he spent the entire spring of 1962 with the franchise. During the winter, the Yankees acquired him from the Phillies in exchange for a small sum of cash, this after he had lost ten of 11 decisions during a dismal 1961, and had seemingly lost his fastball along the way.

Believing that he still retained some of his utility, the Yankees intended to use him toward the back end of their starting rotation. That remained the plan at the beginning of spring training. When the Yankees visited Clearwater, the Phillies’ spring training site, in March of 1962, Roberts’ former team honored him by retiring his uniform No. 36. Roberts pitched that day, giving up four runs in three innings, but was credited with the victory in a 13-10 win for the Yankees. For the spring, Roberts allowed 15 hits and eight runs in 11 innings.
In spite of those sickly numbers, Roberts made the Yankees’ Opening Day roster. But manager Ralph Houk had no role for the veteran right-hander, either as a starter or in relief. In late April, after the Yankees had played six games without Roberts making a single appearance, the team released him. That’s why Roberts is not listed as having played for the Yankees in Total Baseball or at baseball-reference.com.

As it turned out, the Yankees made a mistake in parting with Roberts. The 35-year-old right-hander soon signed with Baltimore, becoming an effective starting pitcher for Billy Hitchcock’s Orioles. He logged three solid seasons as a starter for the Birds before finishing out his career with the Astros and Cubs in 1965 and ‘66.

I’ve always felt a bit regretful that Roberts never got to pitch a game for the Yankees. It would have been nice for him, the good gentleman that he was, to have played for the hometown team. Robin Roberts would have looked mighty good wearing pinstripes on the Yankee Stadium mound.

Bruce Markusen lives in Cooperstown with his wife Sue and daughter Madeline.

Whenever I see Atlanta’s super phenom Jason Heyward, the odds-on favorite to win the National League Rookie of the Year, I think of Claudell Washington. Although Heyward is actually four inches taller and 25 pounds heavier, they have similar body types: they are both long and lean in the mold of a Darryl Strawberry, both left-handed hitters, and both right fielders. Additionally, of course, they are both African American. Heyward is more hyped–he is generally considered the top prospect among position players in today’s game–but Washington was also a highly touted prospect with the A’s in the early to mid-1970s.

Washington also possessed the perfect sporting body. He featured shoulders so broad that one sportswriter claimed he looked like someone who had stuffed a wire hanger into his jersey. From there, his torso tapered off to the slimmest of waists, making him look like a male model. Muscular enough to hit home runs, Washington remained lean enough to run the bases as if he were running track, the ideal combination of speed and power.

The A’s certainly liked what they saw, to the point that they brought him to the major leagues at the age of 19. At one time, the A’s regarded Washington as the new Reggie Jackson, only with more footspeed and better defensive ability. Well, it never quite happened that way. Disappointed in his development and his attitude, Oakland owner Charlie Finley dealt Washington to the Rangers for the paltry package of Rodney “Cool Breeze” Scott and left-hander Jim Umbarger. From there, Claudell went to Chicago as part of a package for Bobby Bonds. Washington patrolled right field for Bill Veeck’s White Sox, but Chicago fans did not take to the lackadaisical Washington. One disgusted bleacherite brought a banner to Comiskey Park, infamously displaying it in the right field stands. The banner pronounced three succinct but memorable words: “Washington Slept Here.” Given the way that Washington seemed to sleepwalk through games in Chicago, no one could reasonably argue with the sentiment.

The Mets eventually did the White Sox a favor by taking Washington off their hands, but only by giving up the measly return of minor league pitcher Jesse Anderson, who would never play in a major league game. Washington played one lackluster season in Queens before realizing the benefits of baseball’s newly created free agency. In one of the most puzzling contracts ever doled out in the free agent era, the Braves rewarded the mediocre Washington with a five-year deal worth $3 million. That might not sound like much in today’s baseball economy, but in 1980 it was the kind of money given to a superstar. While talented and still reeking of potential, Washington was several levels shy of superstar caliber. For all of his talent, he had never hit more than 13 home runs, and had never drawn more than 32 walks in a single season.

Other than his career year of 1984, Washington played no more spectacularly in Atlanta than he had in either Chicago or Texas. He also used cocaine, becoming a part of the infamous Pittsburgh drug trial of 1985. So it must have been with some trepidation that the Yankees made a trade in the middle of the 1986 season, sending the elder Ken Griffey and a damaged Andre Robertson to the Braves for Washington and a smooth fielding shortstop named Paul Zuvella. Yet, I found myself excited about the trade. I had become tired of Griffey’s frequent complaints, whether he was grousing about the manager or his latest position switch. And as a fan of Finley’s dynastic A’s of the early seventies, I remembered the pure athletic talent that Washington carried with him. I thought, perhaps wishfully, that a change of scenery would be just the spark that he needed to reach some of those elusive expectations that had come with his initial big league arrival.

Washington did not become a star with the Yankees, but he did undergo an unexpected epiphany.
After years of treating professional baseball like a slumber party, Washington became dedicated to his craft. He started to play the game hard, hustling all of the time, both on the bases and in the field. No longer a user of drugs, he became a role model to younger players on the Yankees. In perhaps the most stunning development, he actually became one of the leaders in the Yankee clubhouse, something seen as an outrageous impossibility in Texas and Chicago.

Although Washington still didn’t hit with the 30-home run power that the A’s once envisioned and didn’t draw nearly enough walks, he became a solid platoon center fielder for the Yankees. In 1988, with most of his playing time coming against right-handed pitching, he put together one of his finest all-around seasons. He batted .308, stole 15 bases, and drove in 64 runs. In addition to better-than-average offensive numbers, he played an excellent center field, especially considering the lofty demands of the renovated Yankee Stadium. With Washington playing center field, the Yankees no longer had to consider moving Rickey Henderson or Dave Winfield to the middle of the outfield, something that neither of those high-maintenance players wanted to do anyway.

Then, as it so often happens in baseball, the seeming solution hit a roadblock the size of baseball’s growing collusion scandal. In fact, the roadblock was collusion. As part of an arbitrator’s resolution to the charges of collusion among owners, recent free agents were given a second chance at the free market. The list of players included Washington. When the Yankees failed to make an aggressive move to re-sign Washington, the Angels swooped in and inked him to a three-year deal. And just that quickly, center field again became a sore point in the Bronx.

Two years later, the Yankees tried to rectify their mistake, but only ended up exacerbating their problems. In need of massive rebuilding, the Yankees traded a young, promising Luis Polonia to the Angels for the aging Washington. But by then, the Yankees had turned center field over to a young Roberto Kelly, leaving Washington in a bench role. Now 35 years of age, Washington was no longer the player he had been three years earlier. He ended up hitting a dismal .163 with no home runs, one of many failures for a wretched 1990 Yankee team. Washington played so poorly that he drew his release on October 4, bringing his major league career to a sudden and sad ending.

In many ways, Washington’s career encompassed a series of contradictions. Though considered a disappointment, he managed to last 17 seasons in the major leagues, the kind of career length that most players would kill to have. He also reversed the career paths of so many other players by struggling in his twenties, before enjoying his best seasons in his thirties.

Washington’s career embodied the old saying that my parents often repeated to me, “Youth is wasted on the young.” As a youthful player, full of power and speed, Washington lacked the dedication and work ethic he needed to achieve his potential. By the time he found maturity and wisdom and professionalism, he soon discovered that the clock had run out.

Bruce Markusen collects baseball cards in Cooperstown, NY.