Evening star., 1961-10-06

Big John is q true aficionado.
In front of the televiSion
set. he makes every play,
sets up every bunt, and
makes all the long heaves
from center to the plate. He
played some second base be-
fore the turn of the Gen.
tury and he saves his Bit
terneSs for the players he
likes best.
He saw the first game ever
played in Yankee Stadium
and, if he lives long enough.
he'll see the last. John has
been a Yankee fan all along
and nothing these days gives
him the emotional satisfac-
ton Of watching the New
York American League team
mop up the opposition.
HIS HAIR is WHITE, his
face is lean, and the blue
eyes never leave the TV set,
even if time has been called
because of rain. Like most
old-timers, he thinks that
the game has lost much in
recent years.
These ballplayers," he
says scornfully. must be
made of glass. Almost every
time there's a close play at
second. one player writhes
on the ground and the
trainer comes running out.
the manager. and half the
team. Time is called and,
when the kid finally gets to
his feet and lirnps around,
the crowd applauds his CUTS.
What CUTS? Maris COM
planned that the baseball
writer's were bothering him
with questions about beat
ing Babe Ruth's record of
so homers. 1t made him
nervous. Ruth was never
worried about questions. or
whether anyone would pitch
to him or not. Many a morn
ing he showed up so hung
over he could hardly see the
outfield from the plate"
Gehrig never missed a
game season after season un-
til an illness came along that
took him away. Grover Cleve-
land Alexander, on the Cards,
was too old for anything but
a saloon stool when he was
called upon to pitch to Tony
LaZzeri in the World Series.
He threw three low and away
and famed the kid.
Today, it's all home runs.
My father doesn't believe
that the ball is any livelier
than in the old days. The
deluge of homers is due to
the fact that the crowd
comes to see home runs. It's
the big payoff and every
anemic player who learns to
pull the ball down the line
800 feet is a killer.
Mantle is my fathers big
disappointment. No matter
how well Mickey does. my
father says: He can do
better. He's potentially
greater than any ballplayer
l ever saw. If he ever learns
to stop daydreaming. He has
no drive. Maris is not a good
hitter, in spite of all the
homerS he hits"
We sat all afternoon at
our private wake. What ever
became of the place hitter?"
he said, shaking his head.
"Ty Cobb-and. in recent
years. Don Mueller-used to
get up to the plate and look
for a hole in the infield and
drill a ball through it like
a pool player aiming for a
pocket.
To-day, they drag them
selves to the plate as though
nobody loves them, and then
they stand there pulling on
the cap. digging small graves
with their cleatS, rubbing
their eyes. and, if you wait
long enough, they will lift
the bat and .waggle it. Sick
ening."
What about the pitchers?"
I said. He snorted. There
are no pitchers" he said,
There are throwers. Fast
throwers and junk throwers.
A pitcher is a man with an
arm, q mind, and courage.
The last one l saw was Sal
Maglie. He had the moxie
to throw a wide curve on
a three and two count with
the bags loaded.
You know anybody who
does that today? Whitley Ford
is the top pitcher and he's
gone by the seventh inning.
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