Criticizing temamates, Pandemic Baseball

When You Have A Hall Of Famer In Left Field, You Want To See Him Out There

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: Criticizing teammates.

Perhaps the most noteworthy example of a pitcher blaming one of his teammates for a defeat he suffered came when A’s Hall of Famer Lefty Grove was kept from winning his 17th consecutive game in 1931. Grove took the loss when left fielder Jimmy Moore, a second-year player, charged in for a ball that ended up sailing over his head, and allowed the winning run to score for the Browns with two outs in the seventh inning of a game that would end 1-0.

When Grove stormed into the post-game clubhouse he was ready to rip someone’s head off—but his target wasn’t Moore. Instead, Grove was steamed at Al Simmons, Philadelphia’s regular left fielder, who missed the game to go to Milwaukee for medical treatment on his infected left ankle. Simmons, a future Hall of Famer, would likely have easily made the catch.

“I didn’t say anything to Jim Moore, ’cause he was just a young guy just come to the team and he never played in St. Louis before,” said Grove in Baseball When the Grass Was Real. “It was Simmons’ fault. He’s the one I blame for it.”

“The sparks were flying off Grove . . .” said A’s outfielder Doc Cramer. “He was about three lockers down from me. I saw him stand up and take hold of the top of his shirt with both hands—we had buttons on our shirts in those days—stand like that for a second, and then rrrip! He tore that shirt apart so fast and so hard that I saw the buttons go flying past me, three lockers away. Then everything went flying—bats, balls, gloves, shoes, benches. He broke up a couple of chairs. He kicked in a couple of lockers. Nobody said a word.”

Criticizing teammates, Pandemic Baseball

‘If Someone Made An Error, Gaylord Would Stare Him Down’

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: Criticizing teammates.

One guy who made no effort to hide displeasure with teammates—and got away with it because he was so good—was pitcher Gaylord Perry, who, for eight teams over 22 seasons, got demonstrably upset when his fielders made mistakes behind him.

“If someone made an error, Gaylord would stare him down,” said pitcher Dick Bosman, who played with Perry in Cleveland. “It was just his persona. I’m not sure that [his teammates] cared for it very much, frankly.”

“They did not like it,” said Larry Andersen, who played with Perry in Seattle. “I know there were guys who were not happy. It was tough to play behind him.”

When Perry’s Indians were playing in Milwaukee once, a batter hit a drive to deep right field. “Gaylord wanted you to play shallow because he had a lot of balls being dumped in front of you,” said Oscar Gamble, the Indians’ right fielder that day. “I ran about a mile—it seemed like I ran forever. I almost got to the ball, but if I’d caught it I’d have gone straight into this brick wall. I ended up pulling up because I couldn’t catch it.”

On the mound, Perry threw up his hands in frustration, an almost unheard of response for any other pitcher. For Gamble, the moment helped crystallize who Gaylord Perry was. “He just loved to win so much,” he said. “He was one of those guys who, if you slacked on a ball, he would let you know it. He was hard-nosed. He wanted every ball caught when he was pitching, and I had so much respect for that. If you don’t do right, if you miss a ball you should have caught, you expect the fans to boo you. And this fan—Gaylord—was a player. That’s the way I looked at it.”

Criticizing teammates, Pandemic Baseball

‘Sure As Hell, Mr. Umpire, We’re Going To Lose This Game’

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: Criticizing teammates.

Goose Gossage had a rough initiation with the New York Yankees in 1978, losing three games and blowing two saves in his first seven appearances after signing a rich free-agent contract to take over the closer’s duties from defending Cy Young Award-winner Sparky Lyle.

Things got so bad that as Gossage was being ferried to the mound in the Yankee Stadium bullpen cart before one of his appearances, center fielder Mickey Rivers threw himself across the hood of the vehicle, impeding its progress. Gossage screamed at the outfielder to get off the hood, to no avail. “No, don’t bring him in again, don’t bring him in!” wailed Rivers, as recounted in Bob Cairns’ Pen Men. When an umpire ordered him off the vehicle, all Rivers could say was, “We’re gonna lose. Sure as hell, Mr. Umpire, we’re going to lose this game.”

Ever the competitor, Gossage wasn’t about to take it passively. “Get your ass off of this car and get ready to chase down line drives!” he yelled, with a surprising amount of self-deprecation as possible for somebody being shown up in front of a stadium full of people.

True to form, a line drive was hit into the right-center-field gap, with the batter kept from extra bases only by a spectacular, diving catch by Rivers. When the team returned to the dugout after the inning, recalled Gossage in his book, The Goose is Loose, Rivers stopped at the top step and, loud enough for the entire bench to hear, announced, “Hey, where’s the Goose? You know, he told me to be ready to run one down. That motherfucker wasn’t kidding, was he?”
Even Gossage saw the humor, and used the moment to help turn his season around, finishing the year with 10 wins, 27 saves and a 2.01 ERA.