1955 Yankee Farm Club of the Past: Newark Bears

 THEY WERE REALLY BEARS

"Perhaps the most remarkable minor league team ever assembled was the 1937 Newark Bears, every member of which, including seven pitchers, two catchers and the manager, went up to the majors.

The Bears, a Yankee farm club, had a 109-43 record and won the International League pennant by 25 1/2 games. They then won the playoffs in straight games and took the Little World Series. With eight .300 hitters, the team had a batting average of .299 and led in fielding with .970.

It had the league's leading pitcher in Joe Beggs, most of whose later major league career was with Cincinnati. Beggs won 21 and lost 4. Atley Donald, later a Yankee, had 19-2. Charles (King Kong) Keller, later a Yankee slugger, led the league in hitting with .353.

Oscar Vitt, who managed the team, went up to Cleveland the following year. Other members of the team included such men as Joe Gordon, George McQuinn and Buddy Rosar."

-Baseball Digest, November-December 1954

HAVING A HECKLE OF A TIME

"International League players heaved a sigh of relief when Newark dropped out of the circuit, for it was generally agreed among them, past and present, that no arena in the country, past or present, was a match for the Bears' stadium in producing hecklers.

Bill Skiff, one of the last managers of the Newark team, was recalling his experiences here.

'We were in second place in 1948, but that didn't stop those grandstand jockeys. They were critical if you were leading the league by ten games, and I was coming off the third base coaching line in the second inning one day when a fan behind the dugout shouted, 'Hey, you bald-headed coot!'

'I paid no attention and ducked into the dugout. In the fifth inning, the same fan bellowed, 'You bow-legged so-and-so!' I didn't look up, just kept on about my business, and that must have exasperated him, because when I came back after the eighth inning, he said, 'He's not only bald and bow-legged, but he's deaf, too.' I just about made it into the dugout before I started laughing.' "

-Hy Goldberg, Newark News (Baseball Digest, October 1955)

1955 Yankee Team of the Past: 1939 Yankees

 BATTED OUT OF THE DUGOUT

"The Yankees used to scare people. They did it deliberately. In the 1939 World Series the Yankees won the first two games in their own park and entrained for Cincinnati to resume play.

Prior to the first game there, the champs came out for batting practice. In those days they carried a special batting-practice pitcher named Paul Schreiber, now serving the Red Sox in the same role.

A lot of customers were already in their seats when the hitting started. The Redleg bench was lined with players. Schreiber pitched 16 minutes. In that time the Yankees blasted 20 home runs over the right, left and center field walls. Joe Gordon, the second baseman, took four cuts and hit four out of the park. By the time the cannonading subsided, not a Cincy player was left in the dugout."

-John P. Carmichael, Chicago Daily News (Baseball Digest, October 1955)

1955 Yankee of the Past: Paul Waner

A FIDDLER WEARS HIMSELF OUT

Paul Waner, special hitting coach for the Milwaukee Braves: "I offer this advice on batting. Be relaxed. Don't wave the bat. Don't clench it. Be ready to hit down on the ball with the barrel of the bat. Just swing the bat and let the weight drive the ball.

"Let the pitcher make his move first, then as he draws his arm back, you draw the bat back and you are ready for a level swing whether the ball is high or low. If a pitcher sees you fiddling with the bat, he'll stall along until your arms are tired before you even get a chance to hit."

-Baseball Digest, June 1955

1955 Yankee Prospect of the Past: Bill Virdon

 DIVIDEND ON THE SLAUGHTER DEAL

Virdon, Ex-Yank, Promising I.L. Bat King

"The emotional upheaval caused in St. Louis last spring by the trading of Enos (Country) Slaughter to the New York Yankees was accentuated by Cardinal fans' insistence that 'we got nothing in return for Country.'

At the moment it appeared their bleating was well founded. The trio of Yankee farmhands turned over to St. Louis offered no immediate hero to take the place of Mr. Hustle in the Cardinals' lineup.

Looking to the future, however, the deal may yet go down as one of George Weiss' few talent shuffling errors because of Outfielder Bill Virdon, who was packaged along with Infielder Emil Tellinger and Pitcher Mel Wright.

Virdon, a rifle-armed 23-year-old, carried a good-field, no-hit tag through four years in the Yankee chain.

This past season, with the Cards' Rochester farm in the International League, Virdon blossomed into a pitchers' scourge because of his consistent- and distance- clubbing.

The lad from the hamlet of West Plains, Mo. (pop. 5,000), led the Triple A circuit in batting, except for a few days in mid-August, with an average that hovered around the .350 mark most of the season and wound up at .333. His power also was evident with 22 home runs.

Just what brought about this overnight change? The square-jawed, crew-topped Virdon answered in a word.

'Glasses,' he said, pointing to the shatterproof lenses.

Virdon had been wearing glasses for reading purposes for some time when Kansas City Manager Harry Craft spotted him absorbed in a newspaper in a hotel lobby in 1953. Virdon's unhealthy .240 average had been a source of much concern for Craft for some time.

'Why don't you try wearing glasses on the field?' Craft asked. Being without a logical argument against the move, Virdon agreed to try. But before the effect of the cheaters could be felt, he was shipped to Birmingham in the Southern Association.

'The glasses did make a big difference,' Virdon asserted. 'I knew my right eye was a bit weaker but I didn't realize what a difference this weakness made in my judgment of distance until I got the specs.' His .317 average for the last half of the season with Birmingham bears out Virdon's contention.

Harry (The Hat) Walker, one-time National League batting champion and Virdon's manager at Rochester, already has reported to the St. Louis brass it has a 'can't miss' player in the quiet Missourian.

'Measuring Virdon's talents department by department you're bound to come to the conclusion that he's without any defects that might keep him from going on to great things,' he commenced.

'He has power, can pull the ball, has a good eye, and keeps a good book on pitchers who fooled him before.'

A right-handed thrower, Virdon swings from the left side of the plate in a rhythmic, effortless motion.

'As a defensive player, he's got talent, too,' Walker continued. 'He has a great arm, covers as much or more ground than any outfielder in the league and can bring down those balls hit over his head.'

Walker, who has fed Ray Jablonski, Rip Repulski, and Wally Moon to the Cards in his three years with Rochester, thinks Virdon is endowed with the best all-around equipment.

'Mind you, Jabbo, Ripper, and Wally were outstanding with us. I'd love to have all three of them on any club I ever manage ... but this Virdon is the type that comes along just every so often.

'I know that right now he could step into most any outfield in the majors ... Brooklyn, the Phillies, the Cubs ... a lot of them.'

Virdon, himself, feels that because of the Cards' present outfield strength, he may be used as trading material before the 1955 campaign. The Cards certainly would command a big return for his services.

Despite his youth and rugged appearance, Virdon has had handicaps other than faulty eyesight to overcome. He broke his right ankle in a football game following the 1952 season, and broke the kneecap of the same leg in the second to last game of the 1953 campaign at Birmingham.

'The leg hadn't healed completely when I reported to the Yankee training camp last spring and that certainly didn't help my cause with New York,' he stated.

He batted 16 times in exhibition games for the Yankees without a hit before he was shipped to Kansas City's roster. Then came the Slaughter deal- and his orders to report to Rochester.

'When I joined Rochester I still didn't have the full mobility of my right leg but it has come along nicely since,' he injected. 'If I can keep that right leg healthy, I'll be okay I guess,' a wide smile punctuating the remark.

While baseball has always has been his first love, Virdon was a four-letter man in high school. He ran the 100 and 220-yard dashes; played quarterback on the football team, and performed as a forward on the basketball quintet. His 10.2 time in the 100 and 23 seconds in the 220 attest to his speed while his football prowess brought a scholarship offer from the University of Missouri.

Like fellow Missourian Mickey Mantle, whom he resembles in build with a farm-hardened, muscular five-foot-ten, 175-pound frame, Virdon started his career as a shortstop.

'It was just while I was playing amateur ball in West Plains,' he confessed. 'I had switched to the outfield by the time the Yankees signed me for the Independence, Kansas, club in 1950.

'The Yankees didn't do the changing like they did with Mantle.'

But chances they'll soon join Slaughter in weeping over the deal that allowed William (Bill) Virdon to get away."

-Jack Horrigan (Baseball Digest, November-December 1954)

"Bespectacled Bill Virdon, whose .333 for Rochester beat Elston Howard (.330) for the International League batting crown, is an outstanding candidate for a St. Louis outfield berth. He also hit 22 homers and drove in 98 runs."

-Herbert Simons, Baseball Digest, March 1955

"In 1954 with Rochester, Bill won the International League's batting championship with a .333 mark. He had the second most total bases in the league with 284 and second most triples with 11, and tied for the runner-up spot in hits 168. He had 22 home runs, 28 doubles and he batted in 98 runs. The Cards acquired Bill from the Yankees in the Enos Slaughter deal.

Bill began in 1950. He's fast and has a great arm."

-1955 Bowman No. 296

1955 Yankee of the Past: Lefty O'Doul

 POUNDING A POINT HOME

"When Lefty O'Doul was with the New York Giants in 1934, his last year in the majors, he was getting portly and his batting eye was getting dim. A heckler in Pittsburgh informed him of these facts early in the season.

'When does the balloon go up, Lefty?' the fan wanted to know. This is baseballese for fat ball players.

O'Doul walked to the stands and picked out the fan. He pointed his bat at him.

'Would you like to meet me after the game?' Lefty inquired.

The fan stared back gravely, for he had several rows of seats between them.

'I'll fight you any time, Lefty,' he answered, 'only you've got to get your weight down to where it equals your batting average.'

'You win,' O'Doul grinned. 'I can't top that one.' "

-Frank Gibbons, Cleveland Press (Baseball Digest, June 1955)

END OF HECKLE

"Lefty O'Doul, the new man on the Oakland beat, was trudging out of the ball park one night recently after blowing the duke to Los Angeles. He had maneuvered pitchers and pinch hitters in a brainy, but abortive attempt to clip the wings of the Angels. A fan ankled up to him and hissed, 'O'Doul, you are a bum. You managed tonight as though it was the first game of baseball you'd ever seen!'

O'Doul grimaced, then looked down upon his heckler.

'Pal,' said Lefty. 'How would you have played it? What moves would you have made that I didn't?'

'Well,' and the fan grinned sheepishly, 'I guess I'd have done the same things you did.'

'Oh?' said O'Doul. 'Then you can't be too smart. You'd have lost just like I did. By the way, your name isn't Marblehead, too, is it?' "

-Bob Stevens, San Francisco Chronicle (Baseball Digest, August 1955)

SHAMELESS STRIKEOUTS

Players' Nonchalance At Fanning Amazes O'Doul

"The other night Lefty O'Doul was decrying the number of strikeouts. Pitchers were fanning half a dozen batters per game all week and, in some games, the greater part of a baker's dozen.

'What bothers me is that the man at bat feels no sense of failure when he strikes out,' O'Doul put it. 'He simply tosses his bat away and picks up his glove. I don't want to burden young players with a sense of guilt. But they should recognize that striking out is the worst thing they can do.'

O'Doul, who is now managing the Oakland Oaks, himself didn't strike out every day of the week in his active career. He topped the National League twice in batsmanship with .398 and .368, so it follows he was no soft touch for a 'k,' which is the official scorer's symbol for going down swinging.

'It used to be a disgrace to strike out when I broke in,' O'Doul recalls from more than 30 years ago. 'You'd go back to the dugout and brood over it. Nowadays, a strikeout is considered routine. What slays me is the calm way they accept strikeouts.'

O'Doul was of a generation that was taught to get a piece of the ball, even if it meant following an outside curve into the dirt. The premium was on meeting the horsehide at all costs.

'The Pacific Coast League is about the same as the majors in this respect,' O'Doul says. 'Everybody is swinging for the fences- even the .205 hitters whose ambition shouldn't be to knock the ball out of the park. The public craves a long ball. So the order of the day is to take a toehold and swing from the grass roots.'

A contolled swing designed for a single behind the runner is more useful than an occasional home run, O'Doul argues, but it's awfully difficult to sell the public and the batting order on this modest virtue.

O'Doul should know. He deliberately manned his Oaks with short fly lofters into Oakland's right field bleachers. They've won a few games for his side, but mostly they strike out. The park is tailor-made for right field pullers, but still, the Oaks are going nowhere.

For the life of him, O'Doul cannot understand why so many batsmen go down swinging.

'Not to brag, but when I was in the American and National, I didn't strike out once in two weeks and neither did the other good hitters,' O'Doul offers. 'Long before that in Butchertown, a guy who struck out in the Native Sons' League felt bad about it. Today, they laugh it off.'

It began with Babe Ruth and the lively ball. The Bambino used to miss the third strike in the grand manner. Lesser batsmen tried to emulate him to no avail. The whole pattern of modern baseball was distorted by Ruth's genius. The hangover didn't do the game any good.

'Look at the figures,' O'Doul makes recourse to the book. 'Back in 1925 and 1927 Joe Sewell of Cleveland struck out only four times in a full schedule of 150 games. In the National, Charlie Hollocher of the Cubs (1922) whiffed five times. These men were regulars, and the pitching was tough.'

More recently, Vince DiMaggio of the Boston Braves (1938) established an ignoble record of 134 strikeouts. So V. DiMaggio wasn't representative? You'll accept Larry Doby of Cleveland as a pretty fair hitter. He struck out 121 times in 1953, for the next worse.

This is a far cry from the days when Sewell, Hollocher and Luke Appling endured a full season without going down on strikes more than half a dozen times. They contrived to nick a piece of the pitch.

Team-wise, the fewest strikeouts were achieved by Cincinnati in 1921 (308) and by the Philadelphia Athletics in 1927 (326). The Athletics were loaded with sluggers then of the Jimmie Foxx and Al Simmons school.

Contrast these figures with the modern worst. That is, 767 'k's' suffered by the Chicago Cubs, season of 1950.

O'Doul is unable to understand why Coast Leaguers strike out so often.

'What puzzles me is how they miss the ball by six inches,' O'Doul grouses. 'They lunge at the pitch, hoping to knock it over the wall. Why can't they lower their sights and go for a single? The same in the majors. I've been up there. The poor choice isn't any different.'

The bats of O'Doul's primitive experience with the New York Yankees, soon after they abandoned the Highlander label, were thick and short.

'I broke in with a 38-ounce bat and reduced the weight to 32 ounces in order to bring it around against fast ball throwing,' says O'Doul.

'You should have seen the stick swung by Joe Jackson. It had a thick handle. Joe got handle hits close to his wrists that would break the 'necks' of current bats. In his day, the wood was better and the neck not so thin.

'These days, the bat is a buggy whip. You notice more bats are broken near the wrists. The pitching isn't any harder and the swinging isn't any more vigorous. It's easier to hit a fast ball than follow a curve.'

O'Doul's thought is that the old boys were better batsmen. They didn't strike out. A 'k' was a reflection on the family. Like failing to pay off a Morris Plan obligation. They'd rather be caught dead than miss a third strike.

Like Paul Waner. The number of times Waner missed a third strike in a month in the Pacific Coast and National Leagues, you could count on your figures."

-Will Connolly, San Francisco Chronicle (Baseball Digest, September 1955)

1955 Yankee of the Past: Willie Keeler

"William Henry Keeler, broadly known for his genial disposition, held firmly to the idea that folks wouldn't stand in your way if you approached them with a smile and extended a friendly hand.

It certainly worked out for him between third base and home plate at the New York Americans' ball park on an afternoon in 1903.

The New Yorkers were playing the Washington club. 'Smiling Al' Orth was pitching for Washington, but he wasn't smiling by the time the tight contest reached the late innings. He had been in one jam after another, all afternoon.

Came the spot where New York had two runners on the bases, Willie Keeler on third and John Ganzel on second. Al Davis, the next batter, hit a sharp grounder to Rabbit Robinson at short. Keeler broke for the plate and was well on his way when Rabbit made a fine stop and rifled the ball to Malachi Kittredge, the catcher.

Kittredge chased Keeler back toward third base while Ganzel, seeing his teammate was trapped, came up close to the bag. As Kittredge advanced to tag Keeler, the little base runner seemed to give up. The tense expression on his face changed to a smile and he sidled up to the catcher with his right hand extended.

'Kitt,' he said, 'I don't often get caught like this and it took a good catcher like you to pull the trick.'

Kittredge, knowing Willie for the nice fellow that he was, also relaxed. He put the ball in his glove so that he could have his hand free to grip Willie's in friendship.

At that moment, Keeler again began acting like a base runner. He jumped forward and zipped past Kittredge toward the plate, which was being covered by the pitcher.

Kittredge, flat-footed and open-mouthed, grabbed the ball out of his glove and threw it to the pitcher, or at least in that general direction. His throw hit Keeler on the shoulder and the ball bounced into the grandstand, enabling Willie to score. Ganzel followed Willie across the plate while the pitcher was chasing the ball and the catcher was vowing that he never again would have faith in a human being."

-Ira L. Smith, an excerpt from Baseball's Famous Outfielders (Baseball Digest, January-February 1955)

1955 Yankee Past: Jackie Jensen

JENSEN GETS UNDER WAY FAST

Full Flight On Second Stride Aids Steals

"A few years have brought a big change in the Boston Red Sox' style of play. Not so long ago, they were a beefy, sluggish team that in the base-running department led the league in little except falling on their faces.

By comparison, the Red Sox are now young and speedy, and feature the American League's best base-stealer in Jackie Jensen.

But Jensen says that speed is not the answer. There are faster runners, he admits, yet his 22 stolen bases this past season gave him a commanding lead over his nearest rival, Jim Rivera of Chicago (18), and made him runner-up in the majors only to Milwaukee's Bill Bruton (34).

'I can run, but Minnie Minoso is faster than I am,' says the Red Sox center fielder. 'So are Rivera and Mickey Mantle. There are faster men on my own team, like Billy Consolo.

'I don't steal on catchers. I steal on the pitchers. I study them. I learn their motions, and I get a good start.

'Pitchers can stop you, if they want to, but they have the hitters to worry about, and they forget,' adds Jensen. 'Managers have always told me to steal in the right situations- when a run is important.'

It may be a pitcher's hip, foot, or left shoulder- but most of them tip off the start of their delivery to the plate. How does Jensen know those tip-offs so well?

'Through study, that's all,' he says. 'Anybody can do it.'

Jensen's interest in stealing bases this past season has certainly refuted the idea that he is an indifferent ball player. Stealing bases is work.

'I'll steal when I think it means something,' he admits. 'Those fellows who steal 80 and 90 bases a season must have been stealing a lot for their records. There's no sense in stealing just to rub it into the other team. I won't do it.'

Jensen has the knack for being in full flight on his second stride. This was a great asset to him in football, at which he excelled for the University of California as a fullback.

He doubts if football made him a fast starter, but admits it may have helped develop this facility.

Fancy slides are not an important part of his repertoire.

'When I steal, I believe in going in straight in with my foot,' he says. 'That's the quickest way to get there. Hooking is slower. I don't slide my head first because it always skins my knees.'

During the season Casey Stengel praised Jensen as a base runner, saying, 'He knew how to get a lead when he joined us right out of college. He's a natural base runner.'

When Stengel's appraisal was repeated to Jensen, he began with some vehemence, 'Stengel is-.'

He checked himself and said, 'Stengel is a great manager, but when the Yankees sent me to Kansas City in 1951, he said it was because I had to learn how to run the bases!' "

-Harold Kaese, condensed from the Boston Globe (Baseball Digest, November-December 1954)

JENSEN TELLS HOW HE, A SPEED BOY, HIT INTO RECORD DP'S

"Ordinarily, heavy-footed horse-hiders are the ones who hit into double killings. Prior to the 1954 season, Bobby Doerr of the Boston Red Sox was the worst in American League history with 31, done in 1949. Doerr was a clever infielder with the glove but not fast on the paths. Ernie Lombardi of Cincinnati pegged the National League low point at 30 in 1938, and you know 'Botch.' Catcher Lombardi required an hourglass to check his time running to first base. He really was a plodder.

Along comes Jackie Jensen of the Red Sox with 32 in the season recently completed. How come? The young man is fast. California football zealots wish they had had him last fall. Jackie could bolt straight up the middle from fullback, and once in the clear, dart for yardage all the way. He always could scamper like a ring-tailed monkey. Only bigger and stronger.

We caught up with Jensen at the eating house he operates on the Oakland waterfront, a sort of Fisherman's Wharf, in the nautical style of Bow and Bell.

'I can't understand it, either, and I'm embarrassed at hitting into 32 double plays,' Jensen said. 'I don't relish the distinction. I hope that's not my claim to immortality in the majors.'

Cal's Golden Boy explains it this way: 'You know I can run. I led the American League with 22 stolen bases. I could have stolen more, except stealing isn't always the strategy.

'I'm a right-handed batter and pitchers throw inside to me- away from my power. This makes me fall away from the plate when I complete my swing. You don't think this is much? It means I'm off balance and I lose a fraction of a second going down to first. The split second is enough to allow the opposition infield to nip me by a stride.

'Anyhow, I'm batting behind Ted Williams. Ted is usually on first, and he's not the fastest man in the world. He doesn't get to second soon enough to break up the double play. Ted was protecting his injured shoulder. Nobody could blame him for failing to put on a football block at second.'

Jensen has the greatest admiration for Williams. Ted advised Jackie to be quicker with his hands and shorten his swing; that is, bring the bat around faster.

'For a skinny beanpole, Williams has terrific wrist action,' Jensen says. 'He taught me that sheer strength isn't everything. The wrists do it.'

The American League pitcher who gave Jensen the most trouble was Mike Garcia of Cleveland. Bob Lemon and Early Wynn had better records, but Garcia thew stuff which Jensen admittedly couldn't follow.

Just the same, Jackie-boy prospered in Red Sox flannels for an ex-fullback. He averaged .276, smacked 25 homers and knocked in 117 runs- which is the true test of usefulness. Jensen's previous high in RBI's was 84, and his high in homers 10, both with Washington."

-Will Connolly, San Francisco Chronicle (Baseball Digest, January-February 1955)

"A former All-American football star for the University of California, Jackie had his best year in 1954. Displaying the power that made him a top prospect when he signed with the Yankees in 1950, he led the Red Sox in R.B.I.'s and placed third in the American League.

As a Yankee, Jackie saw part-time service until he was traded to Washington in '52, before joining the Red Sox in '54."

-1955 Topps No. 200

"Jackie was in 152 games for the Boston Red Sox in 1954 and he hit .276. He had 160 hits, good for a total of 274 bases, and these included 25 doubles, seven triples and 25 home runs. He batted in 117 runs and scored 92.

Jackie first came to the majors with the Yankees. He also played for the Senators before coming to Boston.

He was an All-American football player at the University of California."

-1955 Red Man No. AL-19

1955 Yankee of the Past: Tommy Henrich

 SCOOP

"I met Tommy Henrich, the great star of yesterday, now a big brewery man from Cincinnati. 'Earl,' he said, 'when there was a rumor once about me managing the Dodgers, I told you I'd let you know immediately if anything happened.' I whipped out the greasy notebook. 'Well'- and his voice got low and confidential- 'nothing happened.' "

-Earl Wilson, New York Post (Baseball Digest, March 1955)