Milestone

Today is the 40th anniversary of Ernie Banks's 500th career home run. Fans who are old enough to have seen Banks play are probably feeling even older as they contemplate this fact. Younger fans might be surprised to learn that Mr. Cub's milestone was achieved before a sea of empty seats. Prior to the mid-1980s, sparse crowds were not unusual at Wrigley Field, especially on weekday afternoons when schools were in session.

ERNIE BANKS

     Only Ernie Banks would have called the dreary Tuesday afternoon of May 12, 1970, “a beautiful day for baseball.” It had rained throughout the morning, and there were puddles all over Wrigley Field when the Cubs took on the Atlanta Braves. Most fans assumed that the game had been called off, and only 5,264 diehards turned out.
     They never regretted it. In the second inning, Banks stepped up to the plate against Pat Jarvis. On the count of 1-and-1, he swung and stroked a low line drive into the left-field bleachers for the 500th home run of his illustrious career. “I felt the ball had a real good chance,” Banks said later. “Then when I saw [left fielder] Rico Carty turn and look into the seats, I knew it was in.” The ball ricocheted out of the stands and back to Carty, who tossed it into the Cubs’ bullpen for safekeeping.
     Jack Brickhouse, of course, was calling the game on WGN television. He shouted, “On your feet everybody—this is it!”
     Banks was the ninth player in major-league history to reach 500 homers. The fateful blow also marked his 1,600th run batted in; he was the 12th man to achieve that level. A generation later, either milestone might have held up the game for half an hour, but in Banks’s day there was a minimum of fanfare. Richard Dozer described the scene in the Tribune: “[Banks] doffed his cap as he crossed the plate and shook hands with Rick Ferrari, Andy Frain usher chief who arrived conveniently at the plate with a new supply of baseballs for the umpire. Later, after he’d shaken the hand of every teammate in view, he went out to his first-base position, received another ovation, and got a congratulatory handshake from Carty on his way to the Atlanta dugout.”
     Atlanta’s Hank Aaron also shook Banks’s hand upon reaching first base later in the game. He had preceded Mr. Cub to the 500-homer and 1,600-RBI milestones, and he would eventually reach the unprecedented levels of 755 and 2,297, respectively, in the two categories.
     The Cubs won the game 4-3 in 11 innings. It was strangely fitting that barely 5,000 spectators had witnessed the culmination of Banks’s career—for the melancholy fact is that no other player ever performed as wonderfully for such listless teams and before so many empty seats. That he somehow managed to turn all this into a triumph was his greatest feat.

Reprinted from Heydays: Great Stories in Chicago Sports
(c)2009, 2010 by Christopher Tabbert

Perfect



CHARLIE ROBERTSON

     
     On April 30, 1922, White Sox pitcher Charlie Robertson took the hill in Detroit to face a formidable assemblage led by 12-time batting champion Ty Cobb. Cobb, the Tigers’ center fielder and manager, was showing no signs of slowing down at age 35. Flanking him in the outfield were Bobby Veach in left and Harry Heilmann in right. This trio comprised the three-four-five combination in the batting order and was responsible for most of Detroit’s offensive production. Cobb would hit .401 that year, Veach .327, and Heilmann .356, and the three would combine for 317 runs batted in.
     A crowd in excess of 25,000 was on hand, and officials at Navin Field (as Tiger Stadium was known in those days) found themselves with more fans than seats. As was common practice at the time, they simply roped off sections of the outfield and put the extra fans there. Any ball that rolled or bounced beyond the ropes would be called a ground-rule double.
     Robertson was still a rookie, having spent the past three years in the minors after pitching (and losing) one game for the Sox in 1919. But he pitched like a wily old veteran against the Tigers, mixing a lively fastball with an assortment of slower stuff and demonstrating pinpoint control. He retired Cobb on a grounder to third, a fly to short left, and a strikeout. He retired Veach on a deep drive to left (Johnny Mostil making the catch just inside the ropes), a high pop fly to right, and a strikeout. He retired Heilmann on a fly to right, a tap back to the mound, and a foul pop to first.
     You get the picture. Robertson faced 27 batters and retired them all for a perfect game. Six Tigers fanned, seven grounded out, six flied out, and—this was the real measure of Robertson’s effectiveness—eight hit pop-ups on the infield. The more frustrated the Tigers got, the harder they swung; and the harder they swung, the more weak pop flies they hit.
     Hoping in vain to upset the rookie, the Tigers complained ceaselessly from the fifth inning on that he was illegally doctoring the ball. First Heilmann, then Cobb, demanded that the home-plate umpire search Robertson’s cap and uniform for a foreign substance. When nothing was found, Cobb had the umpire inspect the Sox first baseman, Earl Sheely, also to no avail. (It was Sheely whose second-inning single had knocked in Harry Hooper and Mostil with what proved to be the only runs of the game).
     Late in the game, the Detroit fans took to cheering for Robertson. When pinch-hitter Johnny Bassler flied to Mostil for the final out, a group of fans carried Robertson off the field on their shoulders. He had pitched the third perfect game of the modern era, joining Cy Young and Addie Joss in a very exclusive club. There would be no new members until 1956, when Don Larsen pitched his famous perfect game in the World Series. White Sox lefty Mark Buehrle became the 16th member in 2009.
     From absolute perfection, of course, there is only one direction to go, and Charlie Robertson’s subsequent career proved the point nicely. He lost more games than he won every year, allowing better than a hit per inning and walking more batters than he struck out. He finished up with a record of 49-80 over eight seasons. Later he regretted having played major-league baseball at all. “It is ridiculous,” he said, “for any young man with qualifications to make good in another profession to waste time in professional athletics.” But where else could one be perfect, even if only for one day?

Reprinted from Heydays: Great Stories in Chicago Sports
(c)2009, 2010 by Christopher Tabbert

Record 46,572 See Dodgers Beat Cubs, 4-2

JACKIE ROBINSON

     A cursory glance at page 1 of the Tribune sports section for May 19, 1947, would have revealed the headline above, followed by a subhead reading "Brooklyn Bats Rout Schmitz in 4-Run 7th," and by a sub-subhead reading "It's Fifth Defeat in Row for Chicago."
     One would have had to read the small type to discover that the largest paid crowd in Cubs history had turned out not to root, root, root for the home team, but to witness the Chicago debut of Jackie Robinson, who was a month into his career as the first African-American player in major league baseball.
    Dodgers general manager Branch Rickey had been itching to sign African-American players for some time, and he had finally settled on Robinson as the man who best combined the playing ability and intestinal fortitude that would be required of the first one. Robinson was no kid at 28 years old, and he was both a college graduate and a former Army officer. He was also suitably sure of himself.
     In his first game in Chicago, Robinson went 0-for-4 with two strikeouts (thus ending his 14-game hitting streak), and he also made an error playing first base. The crowd cheered his every move nonetheless. The Dodgers' win and Cubs' loss left the two clubs tied at 14-12 for the young season, but they were headed in opposite directions. The Cubs were in the first of 16 consecutive seasons in which they'd finish at or below the .500 level. The Dodgers were destined to win the National League pennant in 1947 and five more times in the next nine years.
     For the season, Robinson batted .297, led the league with 29 stolen bases, scored 125 runs, and won the Rookie of the Year award (which has since been named for him). Two years later, he was elected Most Valuable Player.
     Robinson's success on the field and deportment off it paved the way for a parade of great African-American players who soon followed, including Roy Campanella, Willie Mays, Ernie Banks, Hank Aaron, Bob Gibson, Frank Robinson, and other All-Stars and Hall of Famers too numerous to list.

Splendid Seasons: Cubs MVPs, Part 3

We're remembering the 19 Chicago athletes whose splendid seasons have earned them the Most Valuable Player award for their respective leagues. Nine of these players have represented the Cubs, and three of them are remembered below.

Ryne Sandberg,
1984

     “Ryne Sandberg is the best player I have ever seen,” said St. Louis Cardinals manager Whitey Herzog on June 23, 1984. In an uncanny performance, Sandberg had homered off ace reliever Bruce Sutter with the Cubs trailing in the bottom of the ninth and repeated the feat in the tenth, tying the game both times. The Cubs had won 12-11 in eleven innings, with Sandberg going five-for-six and driving in seven runs.
     Prior to 1984, Sandberg was an opposite-field hitter who’d hit only 15 homers in his two years in the majors. Then the Cubs’ new manager Jim Frey encouraged him to pull more pitches and consequently hit more home runs. Sandberg’s breakout season resulted. He pounded out 19 homers and 19 triples, scored 114 runs, knocked in 84, and batted .314 as the Cubs achieved their first championship since 1945. The first three hitters in the lineup—Bob Dernier, Sandberg, and Gary Matthews—each scored over 90 runs; Sandberg and Matthews were among six Cubs who had 80 or more RBIs.
     Ryno had an even better year in 1985, but the Cubs lost all chance to repeat as N.L. East champs when their entire starting rotation fell victim to injuries. He got only one more shot at postseason play, in 1989, but continued for years thereafter as one of the most durable and reliable players in the league. Sandberg abruptly retired early in the 1994 season, then returned in 1996 and played two more years. By the time he retired for good, Sandberg had hit more home runs than any other second baseman in history (that record has since been broken). He was also a swift, heads-up base runner (he scored more runs than any other Cub of the 20th century) and the finest fielding second baseman of his era, and possibly of any era.
     A ten-time All-Star and nine-time Gold Glover, Sandberg was elected to the Hall of Fame in 2005.

Andre Dawson,
1987

     The strange thing about Andre Dawson was that a man so quiet and gentle off the field smoldered with such intensity on it. His knees were so bad for most of his career that he could hardly walk from the car to the clubhouse—yet once the game started he went all out all the time.
     So sure was he that he wanted to play for the Cubs, that Dawson came to their spring training camp in 1987 and offered himself for whatever salary they would condescend to pay him. A free agent after a decade in Montreal as one of the league’s best all-around players, he had received no offers that winter. (It was later revealed that he, like all free agents that year, had been a victim of collusion by the owners.) Dawson wanted to play in Wrigley Field because he loved day baseball and because the natural grass would be relatively easy on his ravaged knees. Hat in hand, he signed a blank contract and asked the Cubs to fill in a salary figure of their own choosing.
     For their $500,000, Dawson gave the Cubs a monster season: 49 homers, 137 RBIs, a .287 average, and his seventh Gold Glove for fielding excellence. He became the first player to win the National League’s MVP award while toiling for a last-place club. Dawson put an exclamation point to his storybook season on closing day at Wrigley Field. As he stepped up to the plate for his final at-bat of the year, the fans signified their respect and gratitude with a standing ovation. Dawson responded by blasting a long home run into the bleachers in left center.
     Dawson was elected to the Hall of Fame earlier this year and will be inducted this summer.

Sammy Sosa,
1998

     No one ever doubted that Sammy Sosa had tremendous physical gifts; he was a prototypical “five-tool” player who could hit for average, hit with power, and run, field, and throw with the best of them. For nine long years, however, immaturity and inconsistency tarnished his brilliance. Then, in 1998, he exceeded the wildest dreams of even his most ardent supporters.
     Sosa cracked 20 home runs in June, the most ever in a single month, and for the rest of the season he joined Mark McGwire of St. Louis in a relentless assault on Roger Maris’s 37-year-old record of 61 homers in a season. When McGwire hit No. 62 against the Cubs on September 8, Sosa offered his congratulations. “Mark is my idol,” he said. “He’s the man!”
     Although McGwire eventually outhomered him 70-66, Sosa led the league in RBIs with 158 (highest total in the majors since 1949), in runs scored with 134, and in total bases with 416. He also established career highs in batting average (.308), hits (198), and walks (77) as the Cubs rebounded from a disastrous season the year before to win 90 games and a wild-card playoff berth.
     Sosa was elected the National League's Most Valuable Player and achieved a level of celebrity that had rarely been attained by any baseball player.
     As time went on, though, the record-smashing feats of Sosa, McGwire, Barry Bonds, and others were tainted by the well-founded suspicion that they had been helped along by the use of steroids. If many of the unprecedented performances of recent years seemed too good to be true, fans concluded, they probably were. Sosa tried to laugh off questions about his own transformation from the 160-pound greyhound who joined the White Sox in 1989 to the 235-pound block of solid muscle he’d become. He credited the change to a daily regimen of Flintstones vitamins.

The Double No-Hitter

HIPPO VAUGHN

     The cold, blustery afternoon of Wednesday, May 2, 1917, was not a promising one for baseball, and only about 2,500 fans came to Wrigley Field (then known as Weeghman Park) for the privilege of seeing something unique in baseball history.
     The Cubs and Reds each sent their ace to the mound—lefty Hippo Vaughn for Chicago and righthander Fred Toney for Cincinnati. Vaughn walked Heinie Groh twice, but each time the Cubs turned a double play to end the threat. Toney, a former Cub, walked Cy Williams twice, but allowed no other baserunners. An error by the Cubs put Greasy Neale on base, but he was promptly caught stealing.
     On and on it went, inning after inning, with neither team managing a hit. It was the ultimate pitcher’s duel. When the Reds were retired in the ninth (with Toney fanning for the final out), the sparse crowd cheered lustily, both for Vaughn’s magnificent pitching and for the prospect of a Cub rally in the bottom half of the inning. But the Cubs went down easily. Both Vaughn and Toney had gone a full nine innings without yielding a hit. But only Toney would go into the record books as having pitched an official no-hitter.
     Vaughn got the first batter in the 10th to pop out. Then Larry Kopf drilled the first hit of the game, a single to left center. After Neale flied out to Williams in center, Hal Chase hit another fly to Williams for the apparent third out. But Williams muffed it. Kopf took third on the error, and Chase stole second on the next pitch. Jim Thorpe was at bat (yes, the same Jim Thorpe who'd been the hero of the 1912 Olympic Games and was regarded as the world's greatest athlete). Thorpe swung and tapped a little dribbler down the third-base line. “I knew the minute it was hit,” Vaughn said, “that I couldn’t get Thorpe at first. He was fast as a racehorse. So I went over to the line, fielded the ball, and scooped it toward the plate. Kopf, running in, was right behind me and he stopped when he saw me make the throw to the plate. I didn’t see him or I could have just turned around and tagged him out.” Catcher Art Wilson wasn’t able to handle Vaughn’s throw; it hit his chest protector and bounded away, allowing Kopf to score. When Chase rounded third and tried to score too, Wilson finally recovered the ball and tagged him out. But the damage had been done.
     Toney set the Cubs down one-two-three in the bottom half of the inning to preserve a 1-0 victory and a 10-inning no-hitter. Vaughn went on to win 23 games that year, but there again he came up just shy of Toney, who won 24.
     There have been some 150,000 major-league ballgames in the 93 years since Toney and Vaughn staged their amazing duel, but no pair of opposing pitchers has equaled their feat of tossing nine hitless innings against each other. Given the scarcity of complete games in this day and age, it is safe to say that none ever will.

Adapted from Heydays: Great Stories in Chicago Sports
(c) 2009, 2010 by Christopher Tabbert