This current event communique is not an oblique attempt to free a book lost somewhere in the vast wastes of a computer. It feels much like Texas Ranger analyst Marc McLemore when he commented recently on one of his early plate appearances when he first joined the Rangers as a ;layer. Marc, who played for Joe Madden when the Angels had a farm club in Midland, "That Marc McLemore no longer exists, he's lost somewhere in this body."
Thios is about the injustice of it all. The top three teams in all of baseball were imprisoned in the National League Central Division, each with records that would have won any other division in the pennant races. The Cardinals, Pirates and Cubs were in a classs by themselves. It seems unfair that Chicago eliminated both the Cardinals and Pirates settle the issue of the best team in the majors, so why should they be subjected to the indignity of having to cointine against inferior opposition. You'll agree, it's not fight.
You have to remember this is someone who saw his first major league game in Wrigley Field back in late August 1940 when rookie Lefthander Vern Olsen three hit Leo Durocher's uncouth Brooklyn Dodgers on three hits. It was a day when GA was $1.25, bleachers 55 cents and very few seats outside of the boxes were reserved. Only a long suffering Cub fan could appreciate the anguish suffered over the years, the promise of 'at last' only to be dashed again.
The worst probably came in 1969 and again Leo Durocher, the Lippy One was involved, this time as manager of the Cubs, a team for the ages, with Ernie Banks, Billy Williams, Glenn Berckert, Ron Santo, Randy Hundley, Fergy Jenkins Ken Holtzman, and Al Spangler, manager of the early Midland Cubs. How could a team like this lose, heading into the final month with an eight game lead and losing the pennant by eight games. What's worse, it was to the New York Mets, -
Battle Scene
Thursday, October 15, 2015
Friday, September 18, 2015
Ron Morehouse
Ron Morehouse: Not your ordinary
minor league pitcher
May 19, 1989
Last Spring the brass
in Anaheim was drooling over the potential of
the 6-5, 195-pound hardball pitcher down in Palm Springs . That was before he hurt his
shoulder in midseason.
Now, a year later in Midland , Texas ,
Ron Morehouse is taking those first steps on the road back.
It may take all summer
and there are bound to be some rough nights, such as what amounted to his 1989
debut against Arkansas
when the Travelers tagged him for four first-inning runs.
No matter how rough it
gets, you still have to pull for Morehouse.
After all, how many
pitchers do you know who were born in Rugby ,
S.D. ? Or who attended South Dakota State University ?
What we are talking
about is someone who has been close to and a part of one of football’s great
round robin series, one that drives the nation’s most knowledgeable forecasters
bananas and anyone trying to figure out the matchups dizzy.
Where else is there a
rivalry to match it…South Dakota State vs. North Dakota, South Dakota vs. North
Dakota State, then North Dakota vs.…..uh, er , now where was I? And, by the
way, what state claims Dakota
State ? And if there is a Northern State ,
South Dakota, there has to be a Southern State, North Dakota ?
How many opportunities
do you get to look at the workings of a Swiss watch or the under-belly of a
diesel locomotive?
You can bet this was a
chance of a lifetime and this was one reporter who wasn’t going to let it get
away...
“Rich, how come the
Bison and Fighting Sioux are always better than the Coyotes and Jackrabbits?
“Riche. I know there’s
a lot of tradition involved when those old rivals square off, how come the guys
from Fargo and Grand Forks always get the best of the teams
from Brookings and Vermillion?”
Instead of bristling
with the hoped for indignation, the 24-year-old pitcher accepted reality and
the consistent success of UND and NSDU in Division, what, I, II, 1-A?... year
after year.
“They pay their
players and import them from Minnesota .
We can’t afford to pay ‘em so all of our players come from South Dakota ,” Morehouse explained.
The writer wasn’t so
impolite as to remind Rich that he was from Watertown , Minn. .
Football is one thing,
but can you imagine what it’s like playing baseball in South Dakota in the spring. Try, if you will
to image the biting bone chilling winds.
And then ground thaw and the totally essential mud room Mom or the Mrs. could
bring swift punishment if by passed.
Fact is, you couldn’t get in the house otherwise.
That’s one reason the
team heads out of state for 10 days or so. “Morehouse relates, “One year we
came down to Texas to play and I remember we stopped for gas, filled up and
presented the South Dakota State University credit card for payment.
“The attendant looked
at it and handed it back. He said they didn’t take credit cards from out of the
country.”
The writer tried to
seem sympathetic, but wondered why they just didn’t show the attendant their
passports. That would have solved everything.
Pat Culpepper's Terrror at Soumds in the Night
Pat Culpepper’s agonizing nightmare
comes to an end
Now that it’s over maybe Pat
Culpepper can get a decent night’s sleep.
Unless you were there, you can’t
imagine the agony endured during those long weeks of anguished anxiety. It was
enough to drive a church goin’ man to drink,
and if he were a drinking man, to church.
In fact, now he can look back on it
and laugh-just don’t say “boo” while
he’s laughing –maybe he’ll write a book
about the experience. And who know, it might be bought by the movies.
You’ve heard of the Amityville Horror. This was worse. It
wasn’t a figment of someone’s imagination. It was for real, It made that other business, the accusations
of UIL rules violations, seem a welcome relief. …well, maybe that’s stretching
a point, but at least the UIL wouldn’t come in the middle of the night and
clutch its victim out of his cot and whisk him off to the graveyard.
It all came to light, pardon the pun, one night when a sportswriter passed Memorial
It all came to light, pardon the pun, one night when a sportswriter passed Memorial
Stadium
Field house around 1 a.m. and noticed that it was lit up like downtown Las
Vegas. The immediate reaction was , “Geez, don’t these people know there’ an energy crisis, going off and
leaving all those light on.”
What the
writer didn’t know was that for Midland High’s new football coach, Pat
Culpepper, it was serving as a temporary home.
“The wife
and children are back in Galesburg., Ill., selling the old house and I’m living
here (in the field house) while looking for a new house,” Pat explained.
He added in
a whisper, “It’s scary. I didn’t know a place could have so many noises at night.
Pat heard so
many strange sounds in the night, he might have suspected the ghosts of Wahoo,
Johnny Branson, Bill Worley, Tom Brahaney, Aycock,
Knox Nunnally, Larry Cooper, Ross Montgomery, Mark Lyons, Phillip Ward,
James Zachary, and other long gone Bulldogs of the past….except ain’t none of
could qualify for their ghostmanships yet, since they are still among the rest
of us mortals.
“They didn’t
tell me about all the noises,” Pat related with a noticeable shiver. “”They
told me that all the fans in the building were shut off for the winter. So how
come, huh, that they all went on at once in the middle of the night?”
Luckily, the
track was handy and midnight isn’t a bad time to do your jogging, if you are
wide awake.
“And then
there’s Doc Dodson’s ice machine. Every so often , when it’s absolutely dark,
it drops a load It sounds like a body falling.”
But it’s over
now. The Culpeppers have been reunited in Midland and Pat can think about
writing that book on long winter nights. Just, one thing, it’s a good bet he’s
gonna do it in the living room …tv on and the family watching…and maybe some
company over to bury those sounds in the night; a church going man to drink and if he was a
drinking man to church.
But it’s past history now and
th tense,suspenseful wait for the other shoe to drop is over.
Pistol Pete Reiser
Pete Reiser, promise of might have been
It was always a
surprise each year when I’d see Pete Reiser at spring training in Arizona and he
remembered who I was. It was our intention to grill him intensively about the
hectic summer of 1941 when the long awaited “next year” finally came in Brooklyn
But something always
got in the way. Then last spring he wasn’t there and now he’s gone for good.
Pete died of a
respiratory illness, the story said this week, but he left a Hall of Fame
career on the concrete walls of National League parks many years before. Pete
had a penchant for running into immovable objects in pursuit of uncatchable fly
balls. You couldn’t convince the guy.
They said if it hadn’t
been for that, he would have been a cinch for the Hall of Fame... But, of
course, if he hadn’t played the game with reckless abandon, he wouldn’t have
been Pete Reiser.
They talk about the
area of great centerfielders in New
York when Mickey Mantle played for the Yankees,
Willie Mays for the Giants and Duke Snider for the Dodgers. Some contend even
today such discussions have been academic, if Pete hadn’t run into so many
walls. Those who saw him say he was Pete Rose and Mickey Mantle all in one.
Pete, who signed for a
$100 bonus after being freed from bondage with the Cardinals by Commissioner
Judge Kennesaw Mountain Landis, was carried off the field on a stretcher a
dozen times, mishaps which broke both ankles, a collarbone, and resulted in
numerous concussions.
Even with these
mishaps, he managed 10 seasons in the major leagues. But none of those years
compared to the first one, which he somehow managed to avoid without
challenging a wall. In those day barriers weren’t padded and warning tracks
were few, if any.
In 1941, Reiser broke
in with a .343 batting average and led the Dodgers to its first pennant since
1920. To Brooklyn fans, that seemed like an eternity, but they always consoled
themselves with “wait until next year.”
It was an exciting,
explosive year for Reiser who played
for the George Steinbrenner-Billy Martin love/hate relationship of the day,
Dodger General Manager Larry M cPhail and Manager Leo Durocher.
Durocher was brash and
irreverent. MacPhail was temperamental and volatile and innovative .He brought
night ball to the major leagues while at Cincinnati, but showed earlier promise
for imagination when he attempted to kidnap the Kaiser at the end of WW1.
Reiser’s style of play seemed to be a reflection of the two. One year he stole
home seven times, which a record that, I think, still stands.
Typical of the
controversy that swirled around the 1941 Dodgers came when the pennant was
clinched in Boston .
The team steamed back to New York
by train for the victory parade. It was supposed to stop at the 125th
Street station in the Bronx , pick up MacPhail for the festivities downtown.
Durocher apparently
didn’t know. At any rate, he ordered “No Stops”and a fuming MacPhail was left
on the station platform as the victory express roared by.
Of course, he fired
Leo on the spot. And hired him back the next day.
Pete’s association
should have lasted longer, but there were those walls.
Pete talked like he
played, If you didn’t know him, he was gruff and brusque, but the love and
attention he showed for his daughter, who was what they called today a gifted
child, gave him away.
Two Ton Tony Galento
This is a test.
Tony Galento
If you are old enough, you probably
remember the pictures of "Two Ton" Tony Galento, back in the 1930s,
hoisting a stein of beer from behind the bar of his Orange , N.J. ,
tavern.
The accompanying taglines usually announced
that Galento was in serious training for his next bout. The photo was
accompanied by the quote, "I'll moider the bum." More often than not,
Tony did just that.
Visiting in Midland , Tony, now 57, perhaps mellowed a
bit, looks fit enough to step back in the ring today. He weighs 220 to 225. For
his title bout with Joe Louis, he weighed 244 and for his fight with Max Baer,
he weighed 257.
"But I had been sick before both
fights and wasn't in top shape."
Galento's visit Saturday was in connection
with the Midland Aerie of the Fraternal Order
of Elks Jimmy Durante Children's Fund Benefit dance.
Galento recalls his fight against Louis
June 28, 1939. "He banged me up pretty good, but I shoulda beat him."
He explains, "I fought a stupid fight.
The New York Athletic Commission threatened to
hold my purse and bar me from fighting in New York if I used any rough tactics. I
shoulda ignored them, like I always had before."
The result was a fourth round knockout of
Tony, who was badly cut up during the fight, but not before he decked Louis
with one of his famed left hooks.
"Even then I might have beaten him, but
the ref kept shoving me to a neutral corner while keeping an eye on Louis to
make sure he was okay."
At 5-8 or 5-9, Galento was considerably
shorter than most of his opponents, but that didn't prove any handicap.
Tony demonstrated how he came in low,
hooking his left to the bread basket, looping his right to the head and finally
hooking his left behind the neck to make sure his victim was in the right place
when the top of his head came up with skin-splitting effect.
"I carried my hands at my sides
because my water soaked gloves were heavy, but when I brought them up, it was
like swinging a block of concrete.
Galento said whenever he missed a left
hook, the karate chop to the throat on my way back was even more effective.
"Sure they’d warn me and take the round away from me, but the other guy
was scared to death by the time he came out for the next round."
Against Baer, he missed a left hook as Max
ducked inside. The blow landed on the back of Baer's head and Tony broke two
knuckles.
In
one of his early fights against a fellow named Gallagher, the New Jersey fighter, sometimes referred to as
"Beer Barrel Tony", recalled how he landed a sense-robbing hook.
"When I hit them, they fell forward.
This bum's head hit my eye on his way to the canvas, opening a cut that took 14
stitches to close. The ref looked at my eye. 'You can't continue with a cut
like that.' 'I can't continue', I shouted, 'What about the guy on the floor. He
ain't moving.'"
He fought Lou Nova in Philadelphia , one of the bloodiest fights of
all time. He finally stopped the Yoga ex football player from UCLA in the
fourteenth round.
"Most of the blood was his and it
dripped all over me, so it looked like I was cut pretty good, too. I'll say one
thing about Lou, he was one guy I couldn't bamboozle. I beat a lot of guys
before I ever got in the ring by just talking loud and tough. At the weigh in
with Nova, I reached over and yanked some hair out of his chest and he wanted
to fight right there."
Since quitting the ring, Galento has made a
bundle as a wrestler and wrestling ref. He took to the stage as Big Julie in
"Guys and Dolls" starring Sam Levene and Vivian Blaine. His movies
include "On the Waterfront" with Marlon Brando, Lee J. Cobb and Eva Maria Saint. He has appeared on
the Mike Wallace and Jack Paar tv shows.
Tony
is a non-stop, cigar-chomping talker. Every few minutes, he stops long enough
to light one of his 25-cent cigars and cuss because the thing won't stay lit,
not realizing he has been talking so long that he hasn't taken a puff the last
10 minutes.
He's got quicker moves than Gale Sayers in
a broken field when it comes to switching subjects from the fight game to his
prohibition days experiences.
"The only way to beat Louis or Clay is
to keep on top of them all the time," he analyzes. "You gotta be an
offensive fighter. It's the only
way." Tony didn't specifically define his interpretation of
"offensive."
"I once knocked out a guy in two
seconds, but they called it a four-second knockout. When the bell rang, he had
his back to the ring, flexing his arms on the ropes. I got across the ring and,
as he turned around, caught him right behind the jaw with a left hook. He was
out. Now, I ask you, how long does it take a guy to turn around, two seconds or
four seconds?"
"I owe a lot to newspapermen. They've
done a lot for me in the last 30 years, although I was never champion. I drop
them cards from wherever I go. I like to do that. People remember you then.
"Say, by the way, where's that
newspaper man you said was coming over to talk to me," he asked.
Someone said, "Tony, you've been
talking to him for an hour."
The newspaperman, bewildered by the most
confusing talkathon in history, finally got in a question during the brief look
of surprise. “Did you ever meet Casey Stengel," thinking to himself,
"What a match."
"Yea, I met 'em all, Babe Ruth, Casey
Stengel," he said it nonchalantly, like he'd verbally "murder the
bum."
Apparently, Tony knew to whom he was
talking that day. Every once in a while, he'd send me a post card from Italy or some
place. I felt honored, but he didn't need to do it so I wouldn't forget him.
Tony wasn't someone you'd ever forget.
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