Pandemic Baseball, Sign stealing

Feller Frazzled By Tigers' Tendencies

It’s well known that Bob Feller brought home a military-grade gun scope from World War II, which his team used to pinch signs. Less known is why he was so passionate about the topic.

Feller was certain that he’d been beaten before by teams with similar schemes, specifically the Tigers. These feelings were spurred in part by a 1940 game in which Detroit torched him.

As it turned out there was a scope in the Tigers’ clubhouse that August, belonging to pitcher Tommy Bridges, a recently bought hunting tool he was eager to show off to his teammates. As soon as the lens was displayed, however, it didn’t take long for a secondary use to surface. “Someone suggested that we equip one of our bullpen pitchers … to zero in on the catcher’s signs,” said Hank Greenberg, the Hall of Fame first baseman, in The Complete History of the Home Run. “Then, by a hand signal, the catcher’s sign could be relayed directly to the batter.”

The spotter, stationed in the Tigers’ center-field bullpen, relayed his information to a team member leaning against the wall. For fastballs, the player rested his hand rested on the fence; for curveballs he did not.

That September, the Tigers offense sprung to life like never before, surging into the league lead in batting average and on-base percentage, finishing second in slugging and third in home runs. When Yankees manager Joe McCarthy became suspicious of uniformed Tigers personnel bearing binoculars, the team shifted its spy—usually a starting pitcher whose turn in the rotation had just passed—to the bleachers, where he sat in street clothes and signaled from the crowd.

In third place, four games behind Cleveland on Sept. 3, the Tigers—losers of 15 of their previous 23—went on an 18-7 run to close the season and take the pennant by a single game over the Indians. All but three of their final 25 games were at home. Said Greenberg, who won that season’s AL MVP Award, “I never had a more enjoyable month.”

Pandemic Baseball, Sign stealing

'If The Light Was On, It Was A Fastball'

In lieu of actual baseball, I’ll be posting snippets that were cut from The Baseball Codes as a way of amusing myself and, hopefully, you. The theme this week: Sign stealing from beyond stadium boundaries, pre-Astros era.

Emil Bossard, the Indians’ head groundskeeper from 1932-68, regularly picked up the opposition’s signs with binoculars, according to his grandson, Roger, a third-generation expert who plied his trade with the Chicago White Sox.

“There was a yellow light in the far corner of the scoreboard,” he said in the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel. “If the light was on, it was a fastball.”

The following season, Cleveland enlisted newly-acquired catcher Birdie Tebbetts—at that point 38 years old and rarely used—to sit in an alcove behind the dugout, where he spent games listening to a “mysterious voice at the other end” of a telephone receiver call each pitch.

Tebbetts didn’t like the scheme, and later came out publicly against such tactics, but he played along, relaying the information to someone on the dugout steps, who would, in turn, move his hand from one side of his knee to the other to indicate fastball or curve.

Pandemic Baseball, Sign stealing

Ty Cobb Was A Fan Of The Best Newspaper In The West

In lieu of actual baseball, I’ll be posting snippets that were cut from The Baseball Codes as a way of amusing myself and, hopefully, you. The theme this week: Sign stealing from beyond stadium boundaries, pre-Astros era.

In a 1952 article in Life Magazine, Ty Cobb admitted that the upper and lower halves of the “B” in a Tiger Stadium advertisement reading, “THE DETROIT NEWS: BEST NEWSPAPER IN THE WEST,” would alternately open and close, depending on what showed up in the binoculars of an scoreboard spy, whose lenses were strong enough, he said, “to bring out the fillings in the catcher’s teeth.”

“I don’t know whether the ad sold any newspapers,” Cobb added, “but it was a great thing for the Detroit batting averages.”

Pandemic Baseball, Sign stealing

Always Pay Attention To The Highlanders Sign

In lieu of actual baseball, I’ll be posting snippets that were cut from The Baseball Codes as a way of amusing myself and, hopefully, you. The theme this week: Sign stealing from beyond stadium boundaries, pre-Astros era.

The Astros scandal is only the latest (and, of course, most egregious) among a long history of stealing signs from beyond ballpark walls. Let’s look first at the New York Highlanders, who in 1913 would adopt the name “Yankees.”

In 1905 the Highlanders rigged a hat-store advertisement on their outfield wall so that the crossbar in the “H” could be manipulated in accordance with the upcoming pitch.

In 1909, Highlanders manager George Stallings rented an apartment behind the right-field fence of the team’s Hilltop Park, from which he had someone relay signs by flashing a mirror at the batter. Though the scheme worked well when the sun was shining, it was useless on cloudy days, so Stallings placed a man behind the outfield fence, where he spied through a gap in a whiskey advertisement and manipulated a nearby slat (the crossbar in the “H” of a “Higlanders” sign) to signal pitches.

Using this system, New York (which finished the season 74-77) beat the powerhouse Philadelphia Athletics three out of four games in early September to virtually hand the pennant to Detroit, with the Tigers needing only to win a series of their own against the Highlanders in New York two weeks later to wrap things up.

Detroit manager Hughie Jennings, having heard of the Highlanders’ system, took steps to insure that his ballclub would not fall victim to similar tactics: He and some “friends” showed up to the ballpark early and tore down the scoreboard in which the New York spy had been hiding.

Don't Play Aggressively with a Big Lead, Pandemic Baseball

The Minor Leagues Are For Learning Lessons

In lieu of actual baseball, I’ll be posting snippets that were cut from The Baseball Codes as a way of amusing myself and, hopefully, you. Today’s theme: Part 2 of what and what not to do when your team holds a big lead late in the game.

With Tri-Cities in the Northwest League in 1967, future big leaguer Von Joshua was 19 years old and fresh out of college, and in a game that his team led, 14-2, he beat out a bunt for his fifth hit of the game.

Two batters later he advanced to third, at which point Tri-Cities third-base coach Don LeJohn asked him what the hell he’d been thinking. Joshua had no idea what the problem might be; the only thing running through his mind was his five-hit day.

LeJohn offered a quick summary of the things a player does not do while his team is sitting on such a lead, bunting included. When Joshua came back to the dugout, veteran teammates suggested that it would be a good idea to avoid getting too comfortable during his next at-bat.

When Joshua next came up, he didn’t need his teammates’ warnings, as the other team made its intentions unmistakably clear. Abandoning all pretense of accidentally hitting Joshua, the opposing manager called one of his outfielders to the mound, simply because he was the hardest thrower on the team. The next three pitches were all aimed at Joshua’s head, at which point he charged the mound and, in his own words, “all heck broke loose.”

“I learned the hard way,” he said. “You don’t do that kind of stuff.”

Don't Play Aggressively with a Big Lead, Pandemic Baseball

'I Looked Up At The Board And Thought, Oh Shit'

In lieu of actual baseball, I’ll be posting snippets that were cut from The Baseball Codes as a way of amusing myself and, hopefully, you. Today’s theme: Part 2 of what and what not to do when your team holds a big lead late in the game.

On Aug. 13, 1997, Cleveland took a 4-1 lead over the Tigers into the eighth inning, when three singles and an error over the span of the inning’s first four batters extended the lead to 6-1. The problem, as pertained to the Indians, was that both runs had scored on one play, during which their manager, Mike Hargrove, had been paying attention to something else and thought that only one had scored.

Thinking his team’s lead was still only four, he had the next batter, Omar Vizquel, squeeze in another run. The Tigers just about lost their minds, left fielder Phil Nevin screaming into the dugout about being disrespected.

“I thought, wait a minute, what is he so upset about?” said Hargrove, looking back. Then he noticed Tigers manager Buddy Bell, a good friend, staring daggers at him. “So I looked up at the board and thought, oh shit,” said Hargrove. “I was just intent on scoring as many runs as we could to put the game away, and I missed a run.”

Hargrove felt fine about playing hard for a five-run lead, even late in the game, which put him beyond the reach of a grand slam. Once that lead was achieved, he backed off of aggressive tactics.

Except that he’d called for a squeeze while his team led, 6-1.

“I went to talk to Buddy after the game, and then I talked to Phil Nevin,” Hargrove said. “I told Phil, ‘I’m not that way. I don’t have the reputation of being somebody like that. And I’m certainly not going to take one of my very best friends and rub his face in it. Buddy understood, and Phil did, as well.”

Don't Play Aggressively with a Big Lead, Pandemic Baseball

'If They Want To Hit Me, Hit Me, But I'm Going To Play To Win The Ballgame'

In lieu of actual baseball, I’ll be posting snippets that were cut from The Baseball Codes as a way of amusing myself and, hopefully, you. Today’s theme: Part 2 of what and what not to do when your team holds a big lead late in the game.

Phil Garner: “I came up with the Oakland A’s, a great team. I was just a rookie, and we had a four- or five-run lead, a pretty good lead, in the sixth or seventh inning, and I bunted for a base hit.

“Sal Bando comes down the bench to me and says, ‘You better be ready, you’re going to get drilled next time.’

“I said, ‘What are you talking about?’

“He said, ‘You shouldn’t bunt with a lead like that.’

“I said, ‘Aren’t we still trying to win the ballgame?’

“He said, ‘Yeah, we are. But there’s the code. You don’t do that.’

“So I said, ‘What’s the difference between me trying to bunt for a hit and swinging?’

“He said, ‘Don’t argue. That’s just what it is.’

“Well, I got drilled. I got nailed. And you know what? The next time in the same situation, I’ll bunt the fucker again. If they want to hit me, hit me, but I’m going to play to win the ballgame. I did it as a player and I do it as a manager. I’m not trying to play to embarrass people, but I like winning ballgames.”

Pandemic Baseball

'I Looked Up At The Board And Thought, Oh Shit'

In lieu of actual baseball, I’ll be posting snippets that were cut from The Baseball Codes as a way of amusing myself and, hopefully, you. Today’s theme: Part 2 of what and what not to do when your team holds a big lead late in the game.

On Aug. 13, 1997, Cleveland took a 4-1 lead over the Tigers into the eighth inning, when three singles and an error over the span of the inning’s first four batters extended the lead to 6-1. The problem, as pertained to the Indians, was that both runs had scored on one play, during which their manager, Mike Hargrove, had been paying attention to something else and thought that only one had scored.

Thinking his team’s lead was still only four, he had the next batter, Omar Vizquel, squeeze in another run. The Tigers just about lost their minds, left fielder Phil Nevin screaming into the dugout about being disrespected.

“I thought, wait a minute, what is he so upset about?” said Hargrove, looking back. Then he noticed Tigers manager Buddy Bell, a good friend, staring daggers at him. “So I look up at the board and thought, oh shit,” said Hargrove. “I was just intent on scoring as many runs as we could to put the game away, and I missed a run.”

Hargrove felt fine about playing hard for a five-run lead, even late in the game, which put him beyond the reach of a grand slam. Once that lead was achieved, he backed off of aggressive tactics.

Except that he’d called for a squeeze while his team led, 6-1.

“I went to talk to Buddy after the game, and then I talked to Phil Nevin,” Hargrove said. “I told Phil, ‘I’m not that way. I don’t have the reputation of being somebody like that. And I’m certainly not going to take one of my very best friends and rub his face in it. Buddy understood, and Phil did, as well.”

Don't Play Aggressively with a Big Lead, Pandemic Baseball

Ron Gardenhire Found It Quite Entertaining

In lieu of actual baseball, I’ll be posting snippets that were cut from The Baseball Codes as a way of amusing myself and, hopefully, you. Today’s theme: Part 2 of what and what not to do when your team holds a big lead late in the game.

Ron Gardenhire: “I remember we were in Triple-A, the Tidewater Tides, playing against the Columbus Clippers for the International League championship. We were leading about 11-2 in the third or fourth inning. Davey Johnson was our manager. Columbus had one of those ball parks where runs are just scored, like Wrigley Field with the wind blowing out.

“I’m up to the plate. Gil Flores is on first, and Davey gives him the steal sign. We wanted to keep playing, because it’s not like the eighth inning in a blowout. We know runs are going to be scored.

“So Gil steals, and on the very next pitch I get drilled right in the head. They felt we should not be running up by more than six. He steals, I get drilled. They thought they were getting killed early on and we should not be running, and Davey Johnson thought it had a long way to go. I took a whack on the head because of it. It was Mets-Yankees—Triple-A, not the big leagues—but the organizational stuff might apply a little.

“There were fights everywhere on the field. Davey was fighting with Johnny Oates—even the managers were hooking. I got knocked out, and when I woke up there were brawls going on everywhere. It was quite entertaining.”

Don't Play Aggressively with a Big Lead, Pandemic Baseball

Dick Williams Didn't Just Want To Beat The Red Sox, He Wanted To Destroy Them

In lieu of actual baseball, I’ll be posting snippets that were cut from The Baseball Codes as a way of amusing myself and, hopefully, you. Today’s theme: Part 2 of what and what not to do when your team holds a big lead late in the game.

Dick Williams took over the Red Sox in 1967 as a 38-year-old rookie manager, and guided a club that was coming off of back-to-back ninth-place finishes to the World Series. Still, amid acrimony and injuries to two key starting pitchers, Williams was fired before he could complete his third season—something about which he harbored resentment for years. Once Williams assumed managerial duties for other teams, he didn’t just want to beat the Red Sox, he wanted to destroy them.

Williams bunted whenever he could to advance runners into scoring position, even when games were well in hand. His baserunners tagged up from second on fly balls, even when leads made such tactics unnecessary. And he squeezed.

If stealing second base with a big lead is enough to make an opponent’s head spin, squeezing is enough to blow it clean off his neck. There is no surer we’re-going-to-pull-out-every-last-calculated-measure-in-our-playbook-to-push-another-run-across statement in the game.

Williams took over the Angels in 1974. During a game against Boston the following season, his club used a hit, a walk and an error to extend its lead to 6-2 in the eighth inning. The manager knew just what to do. With runners on second and third and second baseman Jerry Remy at the plate, Williams called for a squeeze that extended the Angels’ lead even further. “You do what the manager says,” said Remy, “but I knew it was the wrong thing to do.”

The next day, Boston pitcher Roger Moret threw at Remy with the first pitch of every at-bat, a subtle message that the squeeze had not been appreciated. Fortunately for Remy, all four pitches missed. “After the game, [Williams] said to me, ‘I guess I got you thrown at,’ ” said Remy. “I said, ‘I guess you did.’ ”