1958 Yankee of the Past: Joe Page

THE FISH HAD TURNED A LITTLE PAIL!

"Baseball's best fish story concerns the time Joe DiMaggio, Eddie Lopat and Snuffy Stirnweiss framed Joe Page.

Page and the other Yankees had gone ocean fishing and Page fell asleep in the angler's chair. Quietly, the others baited his line with a bucket.

Page woke suddenly, screaming, 'I got one, I got one!' For an hour he tugged furiously on the line. He never caught on that the skipper, cleverly speeding up and slowing down the engines, was giving him the business.

He finally got the bucket on the surface but still thought he had a fish and screamed at DiMaggio: 'Look at the size of this one's mouth!' "

-Pat Harmon, the Cincinnati Post (Baseball Digest, June 1958)

1958 Yankee of the Past: Billy Martin

CAN MARTIN PLAY SHORTSTOP?

Tigers May Find He Has Heart and Arm But Not Legs For Job

"It will be a surprise if Billy Martin can play a big league shortstop for the Detroit Tigers next season. If he can play it on courage, he will do it. But more than a strong heart is needed for that position, or Joe Cronin would still be playing there for the Boston Red Sox. Martin has the head, the heart and the arm for shortstop, but is doubtful if he has the legs.

After he was traded to Kansas City last June, in George Weiss' disciplinary deal, Martin was not an outstanding ball player. The Athletics did no better with him than they had done without him. Not so well, in fact.

Martin is the Stanky kind of player who is more conspicuous and valuable on a good team than a poor one. He told himself, when Weiss, trying to trade him in 1952, stressed how ordinary were Martin's playing talents.

'Maybe so,' answered Martin, 'but I'm worth what I want just to keep those deadheads you got hustling.'

He did the Yankees a lot of good, but more with his spirit than his hitting, fielding or base running. If the Tigers are a contender next season, he probably will help them, too, but not at shortstop, where they are counting on him (with Harvey Kuenn moving to the outfield).

If Martin was too slow to play second base well for Kansas City last season, how can he play shortstop for Detroit? Martin, his pride hurt by the fast moves from New York to Kansas City to Detroit, threatens to quit unless paid for his kicking around.

In his respect, at least, he resembles Babe Ruth. When sold to the Yankees by Harry Frazee in January 1920, Ruth said he would not report unless he got $5,000 of the purchase price. There is no evidence that he got the money, but plenty of evidence- including Yankee Stadium- that he reported to the Yankees.

Tris Speaker demanded $5,000 when the Red Sox sold him to Cleveland in 1916, but Owner Joe Lannin said, 'He held me up when the Federal League started, and I won't give him a penny. I don't care if he ever plays again.'

Speaker played again. So will Martin. The last player to quit when traded was Bill Cox, who would not go from Baltimore to Cleveland in the Pope-Westlake deal in 1955. But Cox was a veteran who was hurting and could quit because he had saved his money.

The Tigers seem to have given up three regulars (Bill Tuttle, Frank House, Duke Maas) for one (Martin)- unless Maurice McDermott, after nine years of big league pitching, turns into a regular first baseman through some miracle.

Tuttle and House were not particularly good regulars, but Maas (10-14) was clearly a better pitcher than Tom Morgan (9-7). When Ted Williams bats against Tom Morgan in Briggs Stadium next season, there should be an excursion of Boston fans to Detroit. He may hit five home runs in a game.

Of all these human negotiables, Frank House represents the biggest capital loss. The Tigers gave the Bessemer, Alabama, youth $75,000 worth of autos, radios, washing machines and money when they signed him in 1948. Actually, they had to throw in an extra $35 at the last moment. His parents would not sign until the club paid for the baby-sitter they had left at home.

The Tigers thought they had the new Gabby Hartnett at least, but House disappointed them from the start. His first spring in uniform, he played an exhibition game with a wind blowing 60 miles an hour in Bradenton, Florida.

When a foul fly left the bat as though it were going over the backstop, House did not turn to look at it, but the wind caught the ball, blew it back, and it landed little more than five feet behind him.

'If you didn't have $75,000 in your pocket, you'd have been able to turn around,' someone yelled from the Braves' bench."

-Harold Kaese, Boston Globe (Baseball Digest, February 1958)

"Other players may hit for higher averages, but you can't beat Billy when it comes to aggressiveness or competitive instinct. Martin's 12 hits in the six-game 1953 World Series is a record.

He has always been a winning ballplayer, playing on five pennant winners in seven seasons. He's the holler guy on any club he plays for."

-1958 Topps No. 271

1958 Yankee of the Past: Johnny Murphy

MURPHY: PRISSY GAME LACKS CROWD LURE

"Baseball is not a gentleman's game, contends Johnny Murphy, Boston farm director and former Yankee relief ace (1934-46). Why try to make it one, he asks.

'When baseball was at its peak, the crowd used to get excited about an occasional big rhubarb with the umpires, or even a fight,' Murphy says.

'Now they've given the umpires so much authority, you can hardly say, 'Hello, Mr. Umpire' and get away with it. The minute a disputed decision arises the umpire says, 'Don't come any closer.'

'The Commissioner and league presidents are always making rules, giving the umpire a bigger stick. For instance, they have rules saying a player can't argue a ball-strike decision, or a coach can't leave the coaching box, etc.

'It was an interesting, well-attended game under the old rules. Why not leave the rules alone?'

Murphy noted the excitement attached to the recent Giants-Pirates explosion. 'That picture of the mob scene looked like old times when I played with the Yankees,' John reminisced. 'I'm not advocating for fights or continuous rhubarbs, but those things will happen occasionally and why not let them challenge an umpire once in a while? They're human, so they can't be infallible.' "

-Tom Briere, Minneapolis Tribune (Baseball Digest, August 1958)

1958 Yankee of the Past: Joe Gordon

THEY'VE ALWAYS LISTENED TO GORDON

Cleveland's New Manager Proved Natural Leader Even As Player

"Larry Doby, 22 years old and the American League's only Negro, sat by himself as the Pullman carrying the Cleveland Indians rolled eastward out of Pennsylvania Station. His face was a mask- concealing all the tension, all the uncertainty, all the loneliness of his position.

His teammates moved up and down the aisle, stowing away their luggage, paying little or no attention to the newcomer. A few days earlier, they had greeted his arrival in the clubhouse with silence so deep it was painful. They still didn't know quite how to meet the situation.

Through the car came Joe Gordon, the old Yankee, the old pro, the veteran whose personality as well as his record bore the stamp: Big League. Gordon sat down beside Doby.

'Let's get to know each other better, Larry,' he invited. 'Do you have any kids at home?'

In a few moments the aisle was blocked by athletes suddenly switched from polite curiosity to friendly acceptance. They wanted to act as Gordon acted. Joe's way was always the class way.

I have no idea whether Gordon will be a success or a failure as manager of the Indians. In this most hazardous of professions, a fellow is a good one when he proves it. But Joe started with a shining asset. He's a major leaguer, through and through. He has the respect of his players, the press and the public.

As a player, Gordon was for years the best defensive second baseman in the league and a hitter whose power made him much more valuable than his .268 lifetime average might suggest.

An important extra was his mental contribution to his club. A nervous rookie in his first year with the Yankees, Joe spent days sitting next to Joe McCarthy, absorbing the baseball wisdom and attention to detail that distinguished that consistent winner.

I remember an incident of 1947, his first year with the Indians. Joe was on first base and Eddie Robinson on second in a game in Yankee Stadium. Ken Keltner lifted a Texas Leaguer to right field and Tommy Henrich charged across the turf. Robinson understandably stayed close to second.

'Get going, Eddie,' Gordon shouted to his teammate. Robbie obediently moved halfway to third and continued the trip safely when Henrich did what Gordon suspected he'd do- he trapped the ball in an effort to start a double play. Joe's guess set up a key run.

Lou Boudreau leaned heavily on Gordon. Two innings before the Indians lost the game which sent them into the American  League's only playoff, in 1948, Lou and Joe were discussing pitching plans for the all-or-nothing battle to be played in Boston.

When the spectacular hitters of 1948 couldn't get started the following season, I asked Lou for an explanation. 'Gordon isn't reaching second base as often,' said the manager. From second base- where he could see the rival catcher's signs- Joe was a master at advising his teammates what pitches to expect.

Years ago, I asked Gordon his opinion of an opposing manager.

'A manager,' he said, 'can do two things for his club. He can get the most out of his material- and I think this fellow does- and he can handle his pitchers smartly. The minute you can say he's not handling them smartly, you're second-guessing.'

In spite of his good record at the plate, Gordon to the end of his career was diffident about his hitting, sought and acted on advice from almost everyone he met.

'I think,' Boudreau once said, 'that if somebody told Joe he'd be better off standing on his head, Joe would try it.'

But for all his earnest attention to his job, Joe was- and presumably still is-  a fun-loving individual who knows how to relax. Everyone who knows him likes him.

As for Bobby Bragan, it was unfortunate that this thoroughly personable young man was so heavily handicapped by injuries. With a healthy club, he might have been a different manager. When mounting casualties forced experimentation, I'm afraid he overmanaged. At least, that was Frank Lane's opinion. And he didn't draw much criticism for his action."

-Ed McAuley, The Cleveland News (Baseball Digest, September 1958)

1958 Yankee of the Past: Lefty Gomez

A MAJOR DIFFERENCE

"Lefty Gomez was recalling his debut with the Yankees some 25 years ago. He was scared, he admits. Bill Dickey, behind the plate, called for a fast ball. Lefty continues:

'I threw him a beautiful curve that went right on past him. Bill walked out to the mound and patted me on the back. Then he said: 

' 'Look, kid, there's nothing to be nervous about. It's just the same as pitching in the minors- only up here the catcher is supposed to know what's coming.' ' "

-Leo Fischer, Chicago American (Baseball Digest, October 1958)