Posts Tagged ‘Don Zimmer’

The Great Brawl of ’84

Saturday, February 25th, 2017

Not since the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre had Chicago seen an eruption of violence like the one on May 27, 1984 at Wrigley Field—okay, not quite an apt comparison.

A three-run homer in the second inning of a Cubs-Reds game ignited the fury.  With Leon Durham and Mel Hall on base, Ron Cey smashed a Mario Soto pitch into the left field stands.  Umpire Steve Rippley called it fair, which prompted outrage from the Cincinnati bench.  Fred Mitchell of the Chicago Tribune cited the viewpoint of Reds third baseman Wayne Krenchicki.  “I was the first one to confront him.  I could see in his eyes he wasn’t sure.  He didn’t say one word when I protested,” said Krenchicki.

The wheels fell of the wagon.  Immediately.  While the Cubs celebrated, the Reds protested that Cey’s knock was foul.  A reversal of the ruling triggered outrage from Cubs manager Jim Frey and third base coach Don Zimmer.  Wrigley Field’s famed bleacher bums responded by throwing debris onto the field.

Cubs announcers Harry Caray and Steve Stone debated the validity of a protest.

Caray:  “I would imagine that this game is going to be continued under protest by the Cubs, though.”

Stone:  “Well, I don’t think you can protest a judgment call.”

Caray:  “Well, whose judgment call are we talking about?  The judgment of the third base umpire or the judgement of the home plate umpire?  Now whose jurisdiction is it?”

Stone:  “Well, it’s still a judgment call at any rate because it’s not an infraction of the rules and you cannot protest a judgment call.”

Caray:  “Well then why don’t you let the plate umpire call them all?  Why do you have the third base umpire who’s that close, who runs down the line because the jurisdiction of the call is his, otherwise he wouldn’t even bother to go down the line?”

Stone:  “But he can and has been on many instances overruled as is the case right here.”

Caray:  “Well, what I’m saying is if you can’t protest a judgment call, you certainly can protest the fact that one umpire’s judgment says it’s fair and the other umpire’s judgment, who is not the umpire who is empowered normally to make the call, says that it was a foul ball.  The other guy who usually is empowered to make the call says it’s a fair ball.  And he was much closer to the play than the other guy.  I would protest anyway.  I don’t care whether…how many times do you win a protest anyway?”

Stone:  “You’re never going to win the protest.”

As Caray and Stone bantered in the WGN broadcast booth and the Cubs manager, coaches, and some players argued with the umpires, Cey remained on the bench, observing the chaos.

And the rage escalated.  Soto had already bumped Rippley before his teammates held him back.  Ultimately, he got ejected, which set him off further—he sprung out of the dugout.  Further, he tried to go after fans with a bat before being restrained.  Jim Frey and Larry Bowa shouted at the umpires so loudly, passersby on Sheffield Avenue could hear them.  Cubs outfielder Mel Hall held back his manager.

Frey’s Cincinnati counterpart, Vern Rapp, then discussed the situation with the umpiring crew:

  • Home Plate:  Paul Runge
  • First Base:  Randy Marsh
  • Second Base:  Bob Engel
  • Third Base:  Steve Rippley

Things cooled down for a few minutes.  And then a bench-clearing brawl broke out with the force of February winds off Lake Michigan.  “What a rhubarb!” exclaimed Caray.

The umpires reversed Cey’s home run.  In the do-over at bat, Cey lined to Reds shortstop Tom Foley.

Soto received a five-game suspension from National League president Chub Feeney, the Cubs lost the game 4-3, and Chicago’s North Side had yet another ignominious moment in its baseball annals.

Wally Altmann, a St. Xavier College sophomore, caught Cey’s home run ball.  “From the position that he might have been standing the ball did look fair from where he was.  But where we were standing, it was foul,” explained Altmann to Caray and Stone.

A version of this article appeared on www.thesportspost.com on February 18, 2016.

The Tragedy of Roy Campanella

Tuesday, November 1st, 2016

Roy Campanella grew up in a section of Philadelphia called, appropriately, Nicetown.

“He was like a little Santa Claus.  Everybody loved Campy…This guy was just one happy, great, lovable baseball person.  And that’s about the way I can describe him,” stated Don Zimmer, a Campanella contemporary, in Neil Lanctot’s 2011 biography Campy: The Two Lives of Roy Campanella.  Zimmer played with Campanella on the Brooklyn Dodgers from 1954 to 1957.

Breaking into the major leagues with the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1948, the jovial catcher played for the emperors of Ebbets Field through 1957, tapped unparalleled knowledge to guide pitchers, and won the National League Most Valuable Player Award three times.

But Roy Campanella’s stellar career ended on an icy patch of an S-curve on Dosoris Road in Glen Cove, New York.  Just five minutes from his Glen Cove home—Salt Spray—Campanella lost control of his car, ultimately crashing into a telephone pole.  The accident paralyzed him.  In his 1959 autobiography It’s Good To Be Alive, Campanella wrote that he left his Manhattan liquor store “at about 1:30 in the morning of January 28th.”  He blamed road conditions for the accident that occurred a few minutes after 3:30 a.m.

“There were big patches on the road,” explained Campanella.  They looked like white spots.  I could see them clearly.  I wasn’t going fast, I don’t think more than 30 or 35 miles an hour, though I wasn’t looking at the speedometer.  I followed the road around the bend in the S and was headed for the right side of the road as I came out of the bend.  Then I suddenly lost control.  The car wouldn’t behave.  I tried to steer it away from the side of the road.  The brakes didn’t hold.  The surface was sandy and icy.  I fought the wheel.  The brakes were useless.”

Campanella stayed late in Manhattan on the evening of January 27th because he was scheduled to be a guest on Harry Wismer’s television show.  Wismer’s show aired on the Dumont Television Network’s New York City station—WABD—after the fights televised from St. Nicholas Arena.  The broadcast time depended on when the fights ended, but it hovered around 10:45 p.m.

Wismer made the request of Campanella during the previous night’s Baseball Writers Association of America Dinner at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel.  “He said the Harlem Branch of the YMCA had told him to call me,” wrote Campanella.  “They had a fund-raising drive on and felt I could help them by appearing on TV.  He asked me to appear the next night.”

At about 9:00 p.m. Wismer called Campanella’s liquor store to cancel the appearance.  He felt that delaying it by a week would create an opportunity to promote the show.  Campanella stayed at the store to help one of his workers, then went home.

Lanctot disputed the version of events that have Campanella leaving the store at 1:30 a.m. and heading directly for Salt Spray, described by the New York Times as “a $40,000 ten-room ranch house on Eastland Drive, East Island, Glen Cove.”  First, he credits “contemporary news accounts” of Campanella’s employees saying that their boss departed at 12:30 a.m.  Then, Lanctot theorizes that Campanella stopped at Smalls’ Paradise, a Harlem nightclub on 135th Street.  He stayed until 2:00 a.m.

“His next stop has been a well-kept secret,” stated Lanctot.  “When questioned, the ever-discreet [long-time Dodgers executive] Buzzie Bavasi admitted that Roy had told him in ‘strict confidence’ that he was doing ‘something he shouldn’t have been doing,’ and not Dodger-related promotional work that [Dodgers owner Walter] O’Malley hoped would be covered by insurance.  Bavasi would concede only that Campy ‘was visiting a friend.’  Several other interviews confirm the ‘friend’ was actually a lover or a pickup whose identity remains unknown to this day.”

Lanctot’s thesis of the accident rests on Campanella falling asleep while driving:  “It is not hard to imagine that a man without rest for close to twenty hours, drained by work and a recent roll in the hay, would succumb to exhaustion.”

Paralyzed by the accident, Campanella refused to let his physical condition prevent him from contributing to the game he loved—he mentored John Roseboro, Mike Scioscia, and Mike Piazza.  Spirit endured where body could not.

Roy Campanella got inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1969.  He died on June 26, 1993.

A version of this article appeared on www.thesportspost on August 15, 2013.