Lost Diamond

Posted Yesterday At 9:56am

The Astrodome sits quietly now at 8400 Kirby Drive in Houston, Texas. It has been said that Walt Disney himself stood in the center at ground level, looked up and said, “This is indeed the Eighth Wonder of the World.” The Astrodome was the first Major League ballpark to be fully air conditioned and enclosed. Who would have thought that this facility would someday become a park of the past? It costs $31.6 million to build, which would be a steal in today’s market, and seated 54,313 fans. It originally opened with real grass, a Wild West scoreboard, and dead air that had a chilling effect on home runs. People came from all over the world to see this new facility. John Wayne and Frank Sinatra are just a few. The Astrodome opened its doors to the New York Yankees for a pre-season game on April 9, 1965. Mickey Mantle hit the first home run off Astros pitcher, Turk Ferrell, but Houston went on to win the game 2-1, on an RBI single by Nellie Fox in the 12^th inning. The first regular season game occurred on April 12, 1965, against the Philadelphia Phillies. Bob Bruce was on the hill for the Astros and faced Tony Taylor of the Phillies. Dick Allen hit the first regular-season home run to help the Phillies post a 2-0 win over Houston. As the years went by, the grass died and was replaced by Astroturf; the 200-foot-high and 500-foot-long scoreboard was removed to add 10,000 seats in 1988; and the fences were lowered and moved in closer, to help the offense.

Thirty-five years does not compare to the life of most ballparks, but the Astrodome has had its moments. Here are some highlights: Willie Mays hit his 500^th home run off the Astros Don Nottebart, on September 13, 1965. Don Wilson of the Astros no-hit the Atlanta Braves 2-0 for the first no-hitter in the Astrodome, on June 18, 1967. Back-to-back no-hitters were thrown on April 30 and May 1, 1969, by Cincinnati pitcher Jim Mahoney and Houston pitcher Don Wilson, respectively. On June 10, 1974, slugger Mike Schmidt of Philadelphia hit a towering shot that hit a speaker hanging in fair territory in centerfield. Nolan Ryan threw his fifth no-hitter against the Los Angeles Dodgers on September 26, 1981. Ryan also recorded his 4000^th strikeout on July 11, 1985, against Danny Heep. Mike Scott beat the San Francisco Giants with a 2-0 no-hitter thrown on September 25, 1986, to clinch the National League West Division. It was the first time a no-hitter decided a pennant or division title. One of the most exciting games ever played at the Astrodome happened on October 15, 1986, when the New York Mets beat the Astros 7-6 in sixteen innings, to advance to the World Series. Another first occurred in 1992. The Astros were forced to go on a twenty-six day road trip, because the Dome was being used for the Republican National Convention.

The Houston Oilers called the Astrodome their home until they moved to Nashville, Tennessee, in 1998. The “House of Pain,” displayed great players like: George Blanda, Warren Moon, Earl Campbell, Dan Pastorini, Bruce Mathews, Mike Munchak, Elvin Bethea, Billy “White Shoes” Johnson, Mike Rozier, Ernest Givens, and Kenny Houston who thrilled the hometown fans every Sunday.

Of course, the Astrodome was also used for many non-sporting events. With 43,614 fans on hand, Elvis Presley turned the place out on February 27, 1970. George Strait, U2, Madonna, Pink Floyd, Selena, Bob Dylan, and the Rolling Stones, are a few of the other groups to perform at the Astrodome. Tractor pulls, wrestling, monster trucks, and live stock and rodeo shows took their place inside the Dome. “The Greatest,” Muhammad Ali, beat up Cleveland Williams in 1966 and Ernie Terrell in 1967, both at the Dome. Professional tennis stars, Billy Jean King and Bobby Riggs, played each other on September 20, 1973. Houston Cougars football and basketball were no strangers to the Astrodome. The Bluebonnet Bowl was played every year, and provided many thrills for the local fans. The University of Houston played the UCLA Bruins on January 1, 1968, in the “Game of the Century.” Cougar’s Elvin Hayes scored 39 points and got the better of Lew Alcindor, as 52,693 fans watched Houston stop UCLA’s winning streak at 47. The NBA All-Star Game was also held there in 1989.

I can’t guess how many games I attended for both baseball and football over the years at the Astrodome. I can tell you I was always amazed at the size of the building every time I parked. It gave me the feeling I was about to be a part of something special in a special place. Most folks didn’t realize that half the dome actually sat underground. To enter and then go down several flights of concourse to ground level seemed a little eerie. A study done by the city in May of 2012 estimated the cost of demolition of the Astrodome would be right at 128 million. Of course it would cost even more if they replaced the space with some other kind of building. The process reminds me of the Memorial Coliseum here in Corpus. I will miss the Astrodome and all the memories.

The Astros started the 2000 season in downtown Houston at their new retractable roof park called Enron Field, later to be named Minute Maid Park. There is no doubt that the retractable roof became the final nail in the Astrodome’s coffin. Indeed, a lost diamond.

Andy Purvis is a local author. His books "In the Company of Greatness" and "Remembered Greatness" are on the shelves at the local Barnes and Noble, at Beamer's Sports Grill 5922 S Staples, and online at many different sites including Amazon, bn.com, booksamillion, Google Books, etc. They are also available in e-reader format. Contact him atwww.purvisbooks.com, or andy.purvis@grandecom.net.

One Short At-Bat

Posted About Three Weeks Ago

This is an eyewitness account of the story of Eddie Gaedel as told by Detroit Tigers pitcher, Virgil “Fire” Trucks. “I was sitting in the Detroit dugout when a midget popped up off the St. Louis Browns bench and walked up to home plate to pinch hit for Tigers outfielder Frank Saucier, at Sportsman’s Park in St. Louis, Missouri. Twenty-six year old Eddie Gaedel was swinging four miniature bats in the on-deck circle, the kind they give away on bat day at the ballpark for kids,” said Trucks. Eddie was 3 feet 7 inches tall and he had instructions from St. Louis owner Bill Veeck to hold the bat on his shoulder. “Do not swing,” instructed Veeck.

The date was August 19, 1951, and Eddie was the first batter for the St Louis Browns against the Detroit Tigers in the second game of a doubleheader. He was wearing a jersey with the number 1/8 written on the back. “Nobody thought he was really going to get in the batter box. When he did step into the batter’s box, our manager “Red” Rolfe called timeout and went out to the home plate umpire and said, ‘They can’t put that guy in to hit,’” said Trucks. “That’s when Zack Taylor, the Browns manager ran up and handed the umpire a contract signed by Will Harridge, the President of the American League,” explained Trucks.

Sure enough, Eddie Gaedel had been signed to a Major League contract by the Browns. So Gaedel stepped back in the box and Detroit pitcher Bob Cain got ready to throw. “That’s when Eddie yelled at Cain, ‘Just get the ball over; I’m gonna murder it.’ Detroit catcher Bob Swift called timeout and went to the mound and said to Cain, ‘His strike zone is only an inch and a half; keep it low.’ Cain started laughing so hard he almost fell off the mound. After Cain collected himself, he threw four straight pitches that would have been called strikes on anybody else, but were called balls on Gaedel, because they were too high. So Gaedel went to first base where he was replaced by a pinch runner, Jim Delsing. That was the end of his professional baseball career; his one and only at-bat,” laughed Trucks.

Cain later admitted that he had feared for Gaedel’s life if he had hit him, so he took it easy on him. Eddie reaped the benefits of his 15 minutes of fame by appearing on several TV shows in the following weeks. In fact, he earned over $17,000, a large sum of money in those days. His playing contract with Veeck had only been for $100. It’s a funny story with a sad ending. Eddie Gaedel spent the next ten years boasting he had been a Major League baseball player. He was constantly in and out of scraps and drank to excess on most occasions. Eddie Gaedel died in his room of a heart attack on June 18, 1961, at the age of 36, after suffering from a terrible beating by an unknown assailant. The mugger robbed Eddie of his life and the $11 he had in his pocket. The fisticuffs left him bruised up with whelps on his face, chest, and knees. He had suffered earlier in his life from high blood pressure and an enlarged heart. It was classified as a murder, but the case was never solved.

Only one guy from Major League baseball attended Eddie’s funeral. Detroit Tigers pitcher, Bob Cain, drove 300 miles to be there. Cain was shocked that no one else from baseball attended.

To add insult to injury, Eddie’s mother was down and out and broke. She claimed she had been swindled out of Eddie’s bats and his St. Louis Browns uniform by a man claiming to be representing the Baseball Hall-of-Fame Museum. The only items that the Hall of Fame now has are the pictures of Eddie Gaedel at bat during that game.

Living in the Shadows

Posted About Three Weeks Ago

On December 29, 2012, Ruth Ann Steinhagen passed away at the age of 83, in Chicago, Illinois. Who is Ruth Steinhagen you ask? She was once the 19-year-old young, obsessed woman, who had a crush on the Chicago Cubs first baseman Eddie Waitkus. Eddie was one of the stars on the Chicago Cubs team and was currently hitting .306. On August 24, 1947, he became one of only six players since 1920, to hit an inside-the-park grand slam. He was also selected to the 1948 National League All-Star team. Ruth had become a Cubs fan at the age of 16 and attended as many games as she could. So infatuated with Waikus was Ruth that she set a place for him at her table at home for dinner every night even though she had never met him. She turned her bedroom walls into a shrine of Waitkus and even placed his photo under her pillow at night while sleeping. When she found out that Eddie Waitkus was of Lithuanian descent, she started taking classes on how to speak the language. Her actions were also the inspiration behind the creation of the 1952 book entitled The Natural, written by Bernard Malamud. A movie by the same name was later released in 1984. The star studded cast of this movie included Robert Redford, Glenn Close, Robert Duval, Wilfred Brimley, and Barbara Hershey, who played Ruth Steinhagen. Robert Redford played the real-life character of Waikus, but used the name Roy Hobbs in the movie.

In December of the 1948 season, 29-year-old Eddie Waitkus was traded by the Cubs to the Philadelphia Phillies. Ruth was so upset, she decided to kill Waitkus. On June 14, 1949, when the Phillies came to Wrigley to play the Cubs, Ruth had her chance. Steinhagen used the name Ruth Ann Burns, an alias of a former high-school classmate of Eddie’s, and checked into the Edgewater Beach Hotel, where the Phillies were staying. She then left Waitkus a note at the front desk. She invited Eddie to her room. The note said, “We’re not acquainted, but I have something of importance to speak to you about.” Eddie showed up at her room, #1297, and she answered the door. Since he did not recognize her, she stated that her friend wanted to see him, but was gone and would be back in just a minute. He took a seat as she walked to a nearby closet. Ruth then returned with a .22 caliber rifle and said, “I have a surprise for you. If I can’t have you, nobody else can,” and shot him in the chest below his heart. Steinhagen then called the front desk and reported the shooting. If she had not made that phone call, Waitkus would have bled to death. Then she kneeled by his side and held his head in her arms, until the authorities came. After she had been arrested, she told the psychiatrist that she had dreamed many times of killing Eddie Waitkus, because he had left Chicago to play for Philadelphia. Waitkus nearly died several times while on the operating table, before the bullet could be removed. It had just missed his heart. She continued to write him letters from prison and even had his picture taped on the wall of her cell. The judge determined she was legally insane and committed her to a prison with a mental hospital. She was diagnosed as being schizophrenic and received shock treatments. Interestingly, she was declared sane three years later and released.

Eddie Waitkus survived the shooting as Roy Hobbs (Robert Redford) did in the movie, but was not able to play in the 1949 All-Star Game even though he had been selected. He returned to the Philadelphia Phillies and helped propel that team (known as “The Wiz Kids”) to the 1950 National League pennant and secured a spot in the World Series against the New York Yankees. Ruth Steinhagen moved into her sister’s house in Chicago and took a job where she worked in an office for 35 years without anyone putting things together. She made every effort to conceal her identity, refusing to answer the door or her telephone. She lived in the shadows and never divulged where she had worked.

Eddie Waitkus decided not to press charges in 1952, after Ruth was released. Eddie later became withdrawn, and suspicious of others. He began to drink excessive amounts of alcohol and suffered a failed marriage. Eddie Waitkus eventually suffered a nervous breakdown because of the shooting and died at the age of 53, on September 16, 1973, eleven years before the movie was released. So, the question for me becomes as follows. Ruth Steinhagen was 55-years-old and alive when the movie The Natural was released in 1984. Did she know about the movie and did she know it was about her?

Williams or Wayne, a Memorial Day Tribute

Posted About Three Weeks Ago

Ted Williams (The Kid) is, was, and always will be, one of the greatest hitters that ever lived. Most people agreed that he had forgotten more about hitting a baseball than most players would ever learn. Ted’s temperamental, high-strung nature combined with his immense confidence in his beliefs propelled him to the top of the world of Major League Baseball. When Ted stepped into a batters box, he knew he had to be perfect. John Wayne (The Duke), on the other hand, was labeled “The Greatest Cowboy Star of All Time.” His loyalty to this country and the American West made him a legend of the big screen. The power of his raw presence screamed the words American, honor, dignity, and strength. They were both American heroes in every sense of the word: One in real life and the other in the minds of the public. The similarities were remarkable.

They were both, tall, masculine, good-looking men. They each stood over 6’4”. Both started their careers in 1939. One became famous on a movie set in Hollywood during the filming of “Stagecoach” and the other, on baseball diamonds across the country with the Boston Red Sox. One was shot down, for real, flying a plane in the Korean War, while the other was shot down on a World War II movie set in “Flying Tigers.” Both were American as baseball, apple pie, and Chevrolet. They both grew up in poverty during their early years and each received their formal education in California. They stood for justice, hard work, fair play, courage, patriotism and the American Way. One earned two Triple Crown Awards in baseball and the other, two Oscar nominations in acting. One was selected to the Baseball Hall of Fame Museum in 1966, and the other received a People’s Choice Award for the most popular motion picture actor in 1976. One became an MVP in Major League baseball, twice, and the other received his profession’s highest honor in 1970, an Oscar. Both owned boats and loved to fish. They each were outspoken, controversial, admired, and revered as one of the best in their profession. One has an airport named after him in Los Angeles and the other, a tunnel in Boston.

They were both loud, had nicknames, and preferred those over their real names. One carried a gun most days to work, the other a bat. Both have museums honoring their lifetime accomplishments. They have both written books and had many books written about them, some good, and some bad. Both were raised primarily by their mothers, but each had a male mentor (Tom Yawkey and John Ford, respectively) who helped them attain legendary status in their chosen professions. Their images appeared on many products over the years. Williams’s image could be found on soft drinks, all types of Sears sporting goods equipment, baseball cards, and national magazines. Wayne’s image was seen on lunch boxes, chocolates, cigarettes, playing cards, and comic books. One had a television show about fishing and the other, a radio show about detectives. One received the Medal of Freedom in 1991 from President George Herbert Bush, and the other received the Congressional Gold Medal in 1979 from Congress. One was elected to the All-Century Team; the other received a square on the Hollywood Walk of Stars.

Both were very active in the fight against cancer. One helped finance the “Jimmy Fund” in New England, while the other supported the John Wayne Cancer Hospital in California. Both were married three times, and all ended in divorce. One has a life-size statue in the foyer of the Baseball Hall of Fame and the other, a life-size statue, on a horse, in front of the Great Western Bank Building on Wilshire Blvd. in Los Angeles, California. One hit a home run in his last at-bat of a Major League game and the other went out with guns a blazing in his last film, “The Shootist.” Both had the support of lifelong friends. Ted Williams had teammates Bobby Doerr, Dom DiMaggio, and Johnny Pesky, while John Wayne enjoyed the company of Harry Carey, Jr., Ward Bond, and Ronald Reagan.

Theodore Samuel Williams was born August 30, 1918. He became a professional baseball player, U.S. Marine fighter pilot, and fly fisherman. Ted died at the age of 84 of cardiac arrest, July 5, 2002.

Marion Robert “Duke” Morrison was born May 26, 1907. He became an actor, artist, and patriot. John died at the age of 72 of lung cancer, June 11, 1979.

Throughout the years, as Ted grew older, he was asked by reporters, “How do you want to be remembered by baseball fans?” His answer was always the same, “When people see me walk down the street, I want them to say, ‘There goes the best damn hitter that ever lived.’” It’s a cinch that if he wasn’t considered the best, it surely didn’t take long to call roll. There is a great story of a blind man who came to every Red Sox game. When asked why, he said he came to see Ted Williams. He then went on to explain that he always knew when Ted came out to the on-deck circle, when Ted stepped into the batters box and of course when Ted hit, all by listening to the crowd.

When Wayne was also asked the same questions by reporters in his later years, he replied: “Feo, Fuerte y Formal,” a Spanish proverb which means, “He was ugly, strong and had dignity.” It appears that both men were greatly loved in the eyes of their fans. Wayne wanted very much to go to Annapolis and become an officer in the Navy; but after being denied, he chose to make movies and support the USO to fulfill his need for being a part of the American military. He even had an Army RAH-66 Helicopter named after him, “The Duke.” Ted Williams on the other hand, actually lived the character that John Wayne portrayed in the movies. Ted served as a U.S. Marine fighter pilot during both World War II and the Korean War, flying a propeller-driven F4U Corsair and a F9F Panther jet aircraft. Was one man anymore famous than the other? I doubt it. Take your pick, Williams or Wayne. Both will be remembered forever.

"I Miss Mickey"

Posted About One Month Ago

My childhood finally ended on August 13, 1995; I was 44 years old and Mickey Mantle had just died. It’s now been eighteen years since he left us, but I can still close my eyes anytime I like and see that swing of his. Even though I knew it at the time, he really was something to watch. The truth is never pure and rarely simple, but Mickey Mantle was born to be a baseball player and nothing else. He was a genius in spikes, a comet with a hat on. Even the name (Mic-key Man-tle) worked in his favor. If you were teaching a foreigner how to say baseball in English you would just say Mickey Mantle. At the end he finally realized that what he did on the field of play mattered to a lot of people. There have been so many things written about Mantle, but it still doesn’t seem to me to be enough. I am so glad I got to see him play and meet him in person. I wish my kids and grandkids could have done the same. When I see his smile in my mind, I also remember the tremendous exertion on his face when he uncoiled his bat at an oncoming pitch. It has been said that he treated each swing as if it were to be his last. You could actually hear him grunt as he swung at each pitch.

That face was handsome, like your newspaper boys, with country bumpkin written all over it. His voice was smooth and southern, like molasses. His forearms were like anvils, large and hard. His body was compact with a low center of gravity. Those legs, although injured, were solid and quick. He was explosive and it was his speed made him different from other stars. I smile when I remember how he ran around the base paths, after a home run. His head, always up and bouncing, his arms bent at a forty-five degree angle, with his elbows in by his sides, but pointed straight out behind him. I always thought he ran with respect for the pitcher and the game, after hitting a homer. In the outfield he seemed to run differently after a ball, more reckless, but always with good results. I guess he will always be the one player I think about first when speaking about the game of baseball.

I think what I’m missing is the excitement he generated in the sport on a daily basis. I miss the way people began to stand when he approached home plate. The anticipation of something incredible about to happen was tangible and filled the air. It made me feel good to watch him play, dashing, graceful and what power. Very little about today’s game moves me like that. The 2012 season had been loaded with personal records and achievements, but they seemed to pale in comparison to Mantle’s accomplishments.

So why do I feel so empty when I see or read about these special events happening this year? This reminds me of a song by Bob Dylan entitled, “I used to care, but things have changed.” Yes, they have changed in the game of baseball, and I wrestle with whether or not I care. I assume I do care, because I’m writing this piece. I have always defended baseball and the game, but things are changing and we have no control. Most all the changes in the past have centered in and round the game itself. Dimensions of the park and playing surface, expansion, the equipment used, the expanded media environment, inventions of new pitches like the slider, and new play-off formats are some examples. But now it’s different.

The players themselves have changed and I’m not talking about bigger, faster, or stronger. I’m talking about changes in the level of performance enhanced through the use of money and drugs that make a mockery out of the first 100 years of this game. It’s almost like watching robots play. The owners, players, commissioner’s office, players’ union and fans have been duped. We have all allowed this great game to become tainted by greed and drugs, and I don’t think it can ever be changed or fixed back like it used to be. As a friend of mine used to say, “It is what it is.” So, if you’re into 9 to 8 scores with five home runs, or teams making it to the World Series with a .500 record, then I guess you don’t mind paying $40.00 for a seat behind home plate. But you know what? It isn’t the same game that I fell in love with, never will be again.

It’s true that most teams set attendance records last year which means that entertainment value is high on most folks’ list, but if they could just go back with me, just for an afternoon and watch one game played during the fifties, sixties or seventies; if they could just see Mantle, Mays, Clemente, Williams, DiMaggio, Aaron or Berra hit; if they could watch Koufax, Seaver, Gibson, Ford, or Marichal pitch; if they could witness, Sparky, Stengel, Lasorda, Weaver or Durocher manage…well, then they would get it. They would understand why I’m writing this piece. The game was better then than it is now. It was pure, safe and right with the world. It was the game of the people, the American Pastime. So, as for me, more than ever, I still miss Mickey Mantle and what he stood for in the game of baseball. I’m reminded by the words of the “Bambino” himself, Babe Ruth, who once said, “The only “real” game, I think, is baseball.”