Even the Braves

[petrel]

November 1965
Free Agency and Awards
Part I

There were three major events in 1965 worth reporting. First, negotiations with free agents had to begin. Second, I want to write about an event that influenced just about everyone in New England. Third, the fate of the Brewers and the Athletics. But most importantly, it was time to elect a new commissioner of baseball to replace Ford Frick.

We'll start with free agent signings, which I had worried about since July. Joe Christopher and Joe Torre would most likely "flee the tepee" as the papers put it and the only question was if I could get anyone to sign at a reasonable price.

First...our great catcher, Joe Torre. He asked for $9 million in arbitration, and we couldn't afford losing an arbitration battle. Joe Torre will become a free agent.

Wayne Causey asked for $3.4 million dollars -- a raise from $590 thousand -- in a year when he couldn't even hit .200. I almost laughed in his agent's face.

Eddie Kasko wanted his salary to be doubled after another poor year. We decided that we'd let Kasko go.

Our .214 hitting Free Agent shortstop Ken Hamlin wanted a $2.4 million raise. Maybe the Yankees can pay it, but not us.

Joe Christopher and his agent made it clear that they were moving on. They told us his offer -- $13 million for six years -- and we wished him well.

Backup right fielder Floyd Robinson, in arbitration, asked for $2 million -- a decrease from his $2.15 million salary. We offered $1.8 million -- but Robinson won arbitration. That's quite all right.

Manny Mota, a .348 lifetime OBP outfielder, asked for $3.9 million, up from $1.4 million. But he had a .361 OBP last year, and he's only 27. We finally agreed on 4 years at $3.35 million dollars.

Tommy Davis wants $3 million for another year. We tendered $2.85 million in arbitration. This time, we'd win the arbitration.

Hank Aguirre wanted a raise to $4.4 million dollars. We decided to go with $3.7 million, determined not to sign him above his old salary. Finally, we agreed to basically his old salary again for two years.

I pick Steve Ridzik off the discard pile, he wins 21 games for us in 1965, and then he decides to hit us for $8.45 million. "You need to pay Steve what he's worth," said his agent. "The problem," I answered, "is that we have different opinions on what he's worth." Not agreeing with Ridzik or his agent, we let him go.

We let the $1.7 million Eduardo Camacho go. Dean Stone offered to go from $3.4 million to $2.6 million -- but he's showing his age. We'll let him take his chances on the free agent market.

Ralph Beard, a 36-year old who went 7-3 with a 2.99 ERA in 1965, came down by nearly half his price. He's knows he's getting older, and we know it. We signed him, figuring we could always use him for mop-up.

Jerry Stephenson will move from A to AA next year most likely, but wanted a $650K salary. We figure he's worth it, and sign him.

(* * *)

Before talking about the Free Agent market, here are the league leaders and the major award winners.

American League 1965

Home Run Leader: 43, Eli Winters, Red Sox. He was a first round draft pick for the Athletics in 1956, but they couldn't pay him. Now he wins the AL home run crown as a catcher.
Batting Title: .349, Frank Bolling, Tigers: Lifetime .327 batting average. Only 32 years old. Eight-time All-Star.
Runs Batted In Leader: 143, Mickey Mantle, Red Sox: 9th on the All-Time RBI list. Will move up a few places by the end of 1966.
Stolen Base Leader: 27, Stu Locklin, White Sox. The second year in a row this 36-year old has led the American League in stolen bases.

Earned Run Average Leader: 1.86, Jim Proctor, Yankees. His 1.86 season ERA is the lowest in a long time. But you'd need a 1.42 to make the top twenty. This guy can do it.
Strikeout Leader: 259, Brian O'Kelley, Indians. The best year of this 23 year old, and he's a free agent now. Someone will snap him up. Could you imagine Cataldo and O'Kelley on the same team?
Wins Leader: 27, Jim Proctor, Yankees. Before you think of a pitching Triple Crown, he wasn't even on the map in strikeouts.
Saves Leader: 36, Hal Woodeshick, Angels. The high octane Angels gave Woodeshick a little help.

Cy Young Winner: Jim Proctor, Yankees: It's his 3rd Cy Young Award, and first with the Yankees. He finished 27-5 in his first year for the pinstripes which led to 131 wins and a seventh straight pennant.
Most Valuable Player: Gene Oliver, Yankees: With the Yankees dominating the AL, it had to go to someone, and why not to catcher Gene Oliver, a real fan favorite and a great successor to Yogi.
Rookie of the Year: Art Lopez, White Sox: 27 year old. .303 OBP? Are these voters drunk or something?

Gold Gloves:

P: Marshall Renfroe, Yankees
C: Tom Haller, White Sox
1B: Ron Fairly, Blues
2B: John Woodwoe, Twins
3B: Andy Carey, Yankees (his second)
SS: Jose Pagan, Yankees (his second)
OF: Bob Skinner, Yankees (#3)
OF: Johnny Callison, Tigers (his second straight)
OF: Roberto Clemente, Yankees

National League 1965

Home Run Leader: 52, Don Mincher, Braves. Hit more home runs in 1965 than the rest of his career combined. And we have him until the end of 1966.
Batting Title: .367, Eddie Haas, Pirates: Definitely an atypical year for the up-and-down Haas, which made Casey Stengel's first-year tenure in Pittsburgh more bearable.
Runs Batted In Leader: 167, Don Mincher, Braves. Hitting .255, he had absolutely no chance at a Triple Crown.
Stolen Base Leader: 79, Lou Brock, Stars. His 79 is the highest total in baseball in a long time -- he fell just two stolen bases short of Bob Bescher's 81 steals for the Reds in 1910. And he's just 25! He'll probably own the record next year!

Earned Run Average Leader: 1.86, Claude Osteen, Giants. One of the reasons the Giants were so frightening to face. Could have won 30 games if not injured.
Strikeout Leader: 310, Joel Cataldo, Orioles. Fell just one K short of tying his own National League record.
Wins Leader: 29, Bill Kirk, Giants. Tried for a 30 game win season on short rest on the last day of the season, but couldn't cross the finish line. He'll have to settle for another World Championship.
Saves Leader: 29, Jeff Traill, Cardinals. Saved almost 40 percent of the Cardinals games in his first season.

Cy Young Award: Claude Osteen, Giants: Second straight. He's the mainstay of the Giants.
Most Valuable Player: Carl Yastrzemski, Giants: Winning the World Series on an extra-winning triple will win you some fans. His third MVP award.
Rookie of the Year: Rich Beck, Brewers: 10-9 with a 3.64 for a truly awful team. Very deserving of the honor.

Gold Gloves:

P: Carl Duser, Stars
C: Joe Torre, Braves (second straight)
1B: Pete Rose, Reds
2B: Alex Jenks, Stars
3B: Don Wert, Astros
SS: Bob Johnson, Giants (second straight)
OF: Howie Goss, Reds (his second)
OF: Ken Walters, Phillies
OF: Dave Nicholson, Braves

[petrel]

November 1965
Free Agents and Awards
Part II

And now, a look at the top free agents in baseball:

Position Players

1. Mickey Mantle, CF: 33 years old and still great. The Red Sox couldn't keep him because he wants another shot at a championship. The new Los Angeles Stars are trying to sing sweet music to him.
2. Joe Christopher, CF: The Yankees have decided they need more punch. If they sign him, it means The Rich Get Richer.
3. Joe Torre, C: The Astros are very much interested in Joe Torre to push them over the top in the NL West.
4. Johnny Callison, RF: Hit 35 home runs for the Phillies. Will he link up with Joe Torre in Houston?
5. Clay Dalrymple, C: Leaving the seals. Still has four months to heal from a back injury -- how effective will he be? The Peaches want to give him a try.
6. Joe Durham, LF: 33 years old and an OK outfielder. The Astros want Durham on their launch pad.
7. Eddie Haas, LF: Another OK outfielder, might be signed by the Peaches.
8. Jimmie Hall, CF: The Giants back-up outfielder is free to seek work elsewhere -- but he hasn't impressed in his tenure with the Giants.
9. Cory Parks, CF: The Peaches want him and if they get him it will be a steal -- for the Kansas City Blues, who wisely let him go.
10. Charlie James, RF: Only had his first decent year this year. Overpriced, in my opinion.

Pitchers:

1. Tom Parsons, SP: This 25-year old is the hot property this year, having his first breakout season with the Angels. The Giants might add him to their fearful pitching roster if they can't sign Bill Kirk.
2. Kelly Osbourne, SP: A lifetime Senator, very close to signing with the Yankees -- but he's really an ordinary pitcher.
3. Bill Kirk, SP: Able to break free and seek his market value. The Giants will probably sign either him or Parsons.
4. John Fitzgerald, SP: Giants starter is looking to nearly double his salary by signing with Houston.
5. Steve Ridzik, SP: Won 21 games with the Braves in 1965, but not attracting much interest due to his age.
6. Whammy Douglas, SP: Question if he can come back from a hip injury. He's in negotiation with the Atlanta Peaches.
7. Jim Bunning, SP: I'm interested in Bunning, but the Stars are more interested.
8. Brian O'Kelley, SP: AL strikeout king will get a chance to show his stuff outside of Cleveland.
9. Bob Heffner, RP: 23-9 as a reliever for the Red Sox. The Stars want to bolster their roster.
10. Bob Hendley, SP: Two good years with Baltimore might lead Hendley to take the plunge and become a Yankee. But can he break on to their roster?

(* * *)

I had asked Ron Stark Jr. if he could afford to open his pocketbook this year. Unfortunately, he was just as stingy as he's been all the years before. $5.3 is his "hard cap", after that, I have to try to negotiate with Stark personally to get higher prices.

When the gates were opened, the players went flying. John Fitzgerald, the #3 starter for the Giants, found a new home with the Astros. As a result, the Giants signed Tom Parsons and re-signed Bill Kirk to nice fat contracts.

Kelly Osborne and Bob Hendley joined the New York Yankees and will have to figure out how to break into the lineup. The Stars picked up relief pitcher Bob Heffner and the Peaches took Whammy Douglas, as expected.

With all of the good relief talent signed -- Heffner, Phil Regan, John Boozer, and Julio Navarre -- we were left scrambling and picked up Lindy McDaniel, formerly of the Pirates, who pitched a 2.69 ERA with 75 K in 120 2/3 innings. He'll become one of our short relievers. It cost us $4 million, though.

The oddest part of the story? None of the position players were sought. The Stars were just putting out feelers for Mantle, the Yankees were having second thoughts about Joe Christopher, and Joe Torre's talks with the Astros were going nowhere. At no time was I suffering from the delusion that I could get any of these players, but the fact that position players had a weak marketing position meant that I could snap up talent for lower prices that usual. The pitching market was hot, but the position market was ice cold.

[petrel]

November 1965
Life in and Out of Baseball

It was Tuesday, November 9th at the offices on Commonwealth Avenue. I was sitting at my desk -- the desk formerly owned by Judge Emil Fuchs -- when the power went out in the building at about 5:20 pm.

"****," I thought. There wouldn't be a teletype machine, and I needed that to make deals. I fumed over the thought that teams might be wheeling and dealing while Braves Field was (temporarily) out of power. They could do it over the phone of course -- phone service was still available -- but it reminded me of how dependent we were on the telephone.

Phyllis came in and we chatted about the lack of power, and prepared to wait until the power came on again. The secretarial staff was already gone for the day but Phyllis would usually stay until 6 pm. (We might have canoodled if not for the fact that the baseball staff stayed all hours of the night.)

There was a portable radio Phyllis had, and we switched in on, looking for a radio station. Oddly enough, the Boston radio stations were off the air. We finally picked up a station in Philadelphia which stated that power was out all over New York, Massachusetts, Vermont, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Main and a large part of Canada.

We waited and waited. It was already dark outside, and I didn't want Phyllis driving home in the dark. Gallantly, I decided to head home. It wouldn't matter, no General Manager would be able to reach me anyway. All the phones were dead.

Getting home was a nightmare. There were no traffic lights anywhere, no store lights, only the beady little lights of headlights. Very much stop and go until I reached my townhouse. I could normally get to the stadium in about 30 minutes; it took me an hour and a half to get home!

The lights at home? Dead. The refrigerator? Dead. TV? Dead. The housekeeper was there. "Mr. Bowman, how am I going to get home? Are the buses going to come?" Finally, she called her family and decided to go home on her own. I offered to drive her home, no matter how long it took, but she absolutely insisted on leaving! ":My family will be worried sick!"

It was just as well. The government of Boston had asked that all phone calls be limited to emergency calls. We probably wouldn't get any calls tonight.


New York City, blacked out.

That night, we decided to cook whatever we had in the fridge. I had a grill that I didn't use much, and Phyllis insisted on frying up some burgers, so we fried up about eight hamburgers while Phyllis made a pseudo-salad out of what vegetables I had. While Phyllis was cooking, I found some candles and lit them. The house had enough light, thank God, enough so that we could lend some candles to our neighbors who were fresh out. Phyllis had purchased some wedding candles and said, "let's break 'em out!" and we had a lovely dinner by fine candlelight. (We didn't use any of the fancy silver candlesticks, though.)

Over thirty million people had been hit by a blackout. As it started to get later and later in the evening, an odd hush settled over the house. No television in the background. No hum of the electronic appliance. It was as silent as a mouse's slippers. You would hear a police car or a siren every now and then, but after that, silence.

I looked outside and Phyllis and I sat on the landing. We could actually see the stars! They usually can't be seen because the lights are so bright. So we snuggled together for warmth under a blanket, and looked to find blankets for the house. It wouldn't be freezing, but Boston in November is fairly chilly and we'd be shivering if we didn't find some cover.

The worst incident probably anywhere in the blackout happened at a maximum-security prison in Walpole, Massachusetts, where a riot started and and over 100 law enforcement officers were called in to quell the riot, which costed $75,000.

So Phyllis washed off her makeup -- "How I am going to get it on for tomorrow morning, Ron?"

"Don't you keep an arsenal in your purse?"

"Not everything I need to keep you married to me."

"I'm not married to you, yet."

"No. You're one month away. It's a good thing you can't see me without my makeup, anyway." It was too dark.

Sometime that night, the power came back on. It had been off for a good nine hours at least. I woke up, turned off the lights in the house, and went back to sleep without really looking at the clock.

(* * *)

While the lights were going off all across New England, baseball's press wanted to know if the lights would remain on in Milwaukee and Philadelphia.

The Philadelphia case was the most complicated. The Athletics had been an original American League franchise, which had won several World Series, but attendance had plummeted and the team, run by the penny-pinching Bing Crosby, was still drawing 800,000. The city of Philadelphia had promised to build a stadium for both the Athletics and the more successful Phillies, but for now the teams would have to play at Connie Mack Stadium. Furthermore, the team had been in debt for some time.

Bing Crosby was not sounding too reassuring. "We'll see what happens in 1968. I want to provide a team for Philadelphia, but it's a two way street. The team isn't drawing fans. Maybe the fans will start supporting the team again, but if they don't, we might not have very many options." Despite every attempt to pin him down to a moving date, Bing evaded the questions. Clearly, it was a business tactic. If he decided to move or sell the team, he did not want to be tied to either his statements or anyone else's.

Meanwhile, John McHale, who had served as GM for the Milwaukee Brewers at one time and was the front man for its unpopular (in Milwaukee) group of owners, was more optimistic. "Right now, we're willing to hold off on any talk of relocation. Granted, the numbers aren't good, and we think we could make a strong case for moving the team. However, we want the team to stay in Milwaukee as long as we can and we're hoping that the arrival of a new commissioner in November can give us hope that the club can get some financial help." He wisely used the words "financial help" instead of the dreaded "revenue sharing".

Therefore, A's fans would have to remain in limbo, dependent on the decisions of owner Bing Crosby. They could move, but would they move? As for Brewers fans, they hoped that a new commissioner would bring in a new breath of fresh air...by, perhaps, getting rid of the owners.

[CatKnight]

That was an ugly load into BM2008. I hope they can fix it.

It might be just as well your salaries etc. didn't scale back to 1965 levels. In money's KC dynasty he doesn't seem to think it's working right.

Other than the loading problems, how do you find 2008? An improvement? Kinda the same?

And I'm looking forward to hearing about your new commissioner!

[moneyp]

CatKnight,

1) Salaries are at 2007 levels but expenses have fallen to 1965 levels. I'm trying not to take advantage of this.

Check your revenues. They may have fallen as well.

[petrel]

Right now, revenue seems to be the same.

I'm going to progress and see what happens, and hope that the financial engine of the game can somehow catch up.

--Pet

[petrel]

November 1965
A New Commissioner
Part I

With the end of the World Series, the very next day a select list was sent to all team representatives. It was the short list of names that would be considered to replace Ford Frick as commissioner.

There were twelve names on this list.

One was very surprising.

1. Stephen Ailes, former Secretary of the Army
2. Ron "Petrel" Bowman, General Manager of the Boston Braves
3. Robert C. Cannon, legal advisor to the Major League Players Association
4. Lou Carroll, National League Attorney
5. Joe Cronin, President of the American League
6. Bing Devine, Executive Assistant to the New York Giants
7. William "Spike" Eckert, Lieutenant General, United States Air Force
8. Curtis LeMay, Air Force Chief of Staff
9. Richard Nixon, former Vice President of the United States
10. Gabe Paul, Cleveland Indians president
11. Pete Rozelle, Executive Assistant to the Los Angeles Angels
12. Eugene Zuckert, former Secretary of the Air Force

To say that I was flabbergasted when I saw my name was on the list. My first thought was "this has to be a joke!" My second thought was "my God, what an honor!" My third thought was, "okay, how do I win?"

I shared the list with the evil coterie of the Boston Braves, the "Big Chiefs". This turned out to be Grey Bird, Chuck Sullivan, Mike Singer, my fiancee Phyllis (who was being called "the Big Squaw") and myself. At a dinner, I mentioned the nomination.

"Jesus, Pet," said Chuck. "So tell me...if they elect you commissioner, will you take it?"

"I don't know," I said. "I love the Braves, but think of how much good you can do as commissioner. The problem is that you're elected for a seven year term, it has to be a 3/4 vote to renew and you're a slave to ownership."

"Pet," said Grey Bird. "Let me disappoint you. You will never be commissioner. You might make the Hall of Fame someday as an executive if the press likes you and you keep your nose clean, but you'll never be allowed to run the whole game."

"You think that Walter O'Malley and Harold Stoneham will put a stop to it?" I answered.

"Well...that's part of it. The big problem is that you can split that list into two groups: a bunch of baseball men who know the game and a bunch of nobodies with pull. You can eliminate the first group right off. Everyone who's a baseball man -- who has put his heart and sweat into the game -- has fellows that hate his guts. So you're out because of the Big Moo, and everyone on the baseball list is out because someone's got it in for him."

"So if not Ron, then who?" asked Phyllis.

"My raven-haired beauty, I wouldn't choose Nixon or LeMay. Those bastards might know a thing or two. They're the kind of guys who'd tell a fellow "NO!" I suspect it will be someone we've never heard of."

"I hate to say it," said Sullivan, "but I agree with Grey Bird. Guys like Walter O'Malley want someone who's strong, has experience in business, an authority figure -- but someone who knows absolutely nothing about the business of baseball. The perfect commissioner would be a mannequin of Kennesaw Mountain Landis, with a mechanical mouth whenever Walter O'Malley needed his lips to move."

I must admit, my hopes were looking mighty dashed. Not that I wouldn't give it my best shot, if the opportunity came -- but they had a point.

(* * *)

So baseball went through the ringer of choosing a commissioner. We all met during the weekend in New York. God, what a meeting.

They would start putting candidates to a vote, eliminating anyone who didn't make an imaginary cut. I was one of the first ones to go. (If the Big Oom orchestrated it, he did it with a poker face -- I was out of the room at the time.)

I went to get a soda from a few floors down. On the elevator, some guy said, "Did you know they're choosing the new baseball commissioner in this very hotel?"

I said, "Yea. I know."

"I wonder who can tell me who it is?"

As I stepped off the elevator, I thought, well, I can tell you who it isn't.

(* * *)

Most of the baseball men went under, just like Grey Bird predicted. Joe Cronin and Bing Devine made it to the top six -- but they didn't last long. Soon, we whittled the group down. There were a lot of pretentious monologues about the importance of the new commissioner, someone who "will keep us free from labor strife" and "won't try to run the business aspects of baseball".

Finally, one name emerged clear and simple. A name written in stars, in bold ink, written in diamonds and written in history. That Sunday, we chose a man that would lead baseball into the next seven years.

Richard Milhous Nixon was selected to be the next baseball commissioner! You could have carried me out of there in a wooden box.

We were asked to stay in New York until Nixon could get accept the offer and get there. After all, who would turn down such an offer?


Nixon enjoying some Chinese art in August 1965.

Answer: Richard Milhous Nixon. Oh, he was defnitely interested in being commissioner -- even though the sport he really loved was football. The problem was that Nixon had not given up his political ambitions just yet. "This is a big job," he told Lee MacPhail over the phone, "and, if I wished to resume my political career, that job would be left half-finished. I would not want to leave baseball scrambling for a replacement if circumstances brought me to that decision. I am grateful for the consideration and for the nomination, but I must decline that signal honor. However, if I decide to permanently retire from politics, rest assured that I would help baseball in any way that I could."

Nixon was off the list, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Therefore, baseball decided to give the good news to its next runner-up.

(* * *)

General Curtis Emerson LeMay, former Air Force Chief of Staff, was given the call. I'm sure today that you might think that today's conservatives are real fire-breathers. Well, General LeMay could have outheated all of them put together. Not only was he a tough man, a man's man, he was the man who said that North Vietnam needed to be bombed "into the stone age". It was not mere hyperbole with LeMay. LeMay had no fear of using nuclear weapons, either. He had clashed with Kennedy during the Cuban Missile Crisis and had recently clashed with Defense Secretary Robert McNamara. Finally, he made too many enemies and President Johnson forced him into retirement in February of 1965.

The owners at the time admired the military, loved the Vietnam War, and were mostly conservative or archconservative, which made Curtis LeMay very popular. Furthermore, there was the bonus in that General LeMay might not know the difference between a baseball and a horse's patoot. His ignorance would be a boon to the owners, because he could be controlled.

So, Lee MacPhail went to give LeMay the good news. There was no mentioning of the fact that he was Nixon's runner up.


LeMay in dress blues.

LeMay wasn't interested. I don't know if he suspected he was being used. I don't know if he just had no interest in baseball. I don't know if he was working on his blossoming political career -- but was basically the same: "thank you, I'm honored, not really interested."

Unhappy, MacPhail ask him if he could recommend someone. LeMay, an old Air Force man, recommended William Eckert, who didn't know nothing about baseball either. But LeMay gave Eckert his blessing, and MacPhail would bring the words to baseball after he got off the phone.

When MacPhail told all of us that General LeMay had turned down the job, there were murmurs of discontent all across the table. We had just offered the most powerful position in baseball to two people in a row, and both had turned it down.

MacPhail was ready to ride to the rescue. He asked LeMay to recommend a name, he told us, and LeMay recommended General William Eckert.

Unfortunately, at that time, Bing Crosby was telling me a really funny story about MacPhail. I heard MacPhail say "blahblahBLAHblah", but I heard that the man was in the Air Force, whoever he was. There were two other names on that list with Air Force connections. And they both sounded similar. So I asked the obvious question.

"Lee, did General LeMay say ECK-ert or ZUCK-ert?"

And then, Lee MacPhail got stage fright, like a child asked to spell an unfamiliar word. "He said, "ZU--I mean, Eckert! I mean, I'm sure it's Eckert. Not Zuckert. Eckert. It's Eckert."

There was complete silence. And then Gussie Busch bawled, "G-ddamn, Lee, who the **** was it, then? Don't tell me your forgot!!"

MacPhail made it clear that he did not forget, but by that time, no one else was listening. Some owners expressed displeasure with the list of candidates, others expressed displeasure that their pet candidates had been voted down. It was clear, for the moment, that neither Zuckert nor Eckert would move forward. Myself, I excused myself as the meeting broke up yet again.

[petrel]

November 1965
A New Commissioner
Part II

While I was at the bar downstairs, nursing a bourbon, who should come up to me and set his big fat keister next to me himself but the Big Oom, Walter O'Malley himself? "Hello Pet. How are you?

Mind you, he didn't mean any of that. If I had burst into flames, he would have bought gasoline stock. He and Harold Stoneham absolutely hated me. Since 1958, the only two pennant winners (beside the Braves in '60) had been the Brooklyn Dodgers and the New York Giants.

When I engineered a deal that allowed O'Malley and Stoneham to flee to the West Coast, the deal was that the players would not be coming with them. Therefore, O'Malley saw those 1958 and 1959 pennants as his pennants, pennants that I had cruelly stolen from him. He would never forgive me.

But part of baseball is that you are forced to come to terms with people you hate, because you'd be working with them every day. ****, I even invited O'Malley to my wedding, even though I knew (or hoped) he wouldn't come. After all, there were players to trade, and that meant contact at some level. Like it or not, you have to pretend as if you were the very best friends of people who wanted you out of baseball -- after all, you might need those people someday.

As they say in corporations, in the Mafia, and in baseball -- "it's just business."

"Fine," I answered. "How about you?" And we made pleasant talk, even though I wouldn't have given him the time of day if we weren't in baseball.

"Listen, Pet...I'm thinking of a compromise between your side and mine on the commissioner thing." I didn't have a "side". I was friends with Bing Crosby and I was at least on speaking terms with Barron Hilton. I didn't running fleeing from Charlie Finley, who clung to me like a post, since I was the only owner who knew how to hide his contempt. (God, there's a man I'd like to kill if I'm ever given a free murder.) I suppose, in O'Malley's mind, that that constituted a power block of some sort. I guess in his world, all the owners hated each other.

"Well, I don't have a side, Walter, but let's hear it."

"We can't sit around and float without a commissioner after Ford retires. What do you think of Peter Rozelle? I know him well, because he works for me. Furthermore, he's been a commissioner before."

"Yes. A football commissioner."

"You should talk to him. He likes baseball, too. He knows the financial side of the business, working with the Angels. He's good with the press. And if he doesn't work out, we'll just get someone else."

"The press will laugh at us."

"Peter," said O'Malley, "will have them eating out of his hand. I've got nothing but good press in Los Angeles, and Peter's been part of that."

I sighed. "Sure, Walter. Why not? Let's just get this thing hung out to try?"

"Glad you could see it my way, Pet." He downed his drink, made the minimal amount of pleasantries, announced his departure, which I acknowledged with pleasantries of my own. It was as complex as being an oriental potentate.

(* * *)

So I kept my "part" of the bargain. I told my "side" what I had heard. Frankly, none of them had no objections. They were just concerned about Rozelle's failure as football commissioner.

"Football men are too dumb to know what they've got," said O'Malley, in Rozelle's defense. "We need to move forward."

Privately, Finley grabbed my arm. (I hated that.) "Pet, what about the Blues? We're losing money! Rozelle's gotta let me move!"

"Listen," I said. "I'm going to talk with Rozelle. Frankly, a lot of teams are suffering out there and the new commissioner, whoever he is, needs to do something about it. You think I like finishing second to the Giants every year?" Finley was mollified, and some of the smaller owners were hopeful.

With O'Malley's block and my "block", we turned the tide. The owners and GMs, exhausted with the process, offered the job of baseball commissioner to Pete Rozelle. And Rozelle, thank goodness, took the job and brought the process to its end.

(* * *)


Rozelle jokes with the press at his introductory press conference.

I would get my chance to talk to Rozelle after his press conference. We were all there to listen to what the new Commissioner-Elect had to say.

Rozelle insisted on one thing before he even opened the press conference. "It needs to be near the bar. Open the liquor bar. Furthermore, we need catering. Good catering. I want there to be desserts, pastries, upper end cuisine."

"Why?" Lee MacPhail said.

"It's for the press. Rule number one, keep the press happy. Make sure you're not having to react to them, but that they're having to react to you."

The food and bar was opened one hour before the conference. French pastry! Gourmet sandwiches!! O'Malley muttered under his breath, but he let Rozelle do it. You see, O'Malley figured he'd be the one controlling Rozelle. If a fine spread was the cost of that control, O'Malley would pay.

By the time we were ready to announce, the press was moooooing like contented cattle. They were all in a great mood on a slow new day. We announced Rozelle to the world, and the press somewhat lethargially went after him.

Wasn't Rozelle already a failure? "I pointed out the obvious," Rozelle said. "Football is having a hard go at it. I think that I could have helped that sport, brought it more to the level of respect and popularity that baseball currently possesses. We have more forward-looking owners in this sport than in any other."

What about the Giants and the Yankees? "The Giants and Yankees have fans all over the world. Good baseball is good baseball. Would you have given up that Game Seven for anything?"

What about the Brewers and Athletics? "Baseball has financial problems. We're going to bring the owners, and the communities together to solve those problems. Baseball will move forward, and if I were to have an agenda, it would be for the commissioner and the owners to put baseball at the center of everything we do. If this is a business, then let's run it like one."

What about the state of labor/management relations? "Players are paid more now that they've ever been paid. We hold the players in high esteem. That relationship will only be strengthened over time."

They asked him about his favorite TV show. What was his favorite comic strip? What was his favorite team? ("It's not the job of the commissioner...to hurt the feelings of any other team!") As we watched, Bing Crosby leaned over and said, "Pet, Rozelle's got them eating out of his hand...literally and figuratively."

(* * *)

That night, Rozelle called me to his room before I could contact him first.

The new Commissioner-Elect first thanked me for his support. "You spoke out in favor of me becoming commissioner with the other owners, and I appreciate that. I had dinner with Commissioner Frick tonight and he said that you had been very helpful. You put baseball ahead of the success of the Braves. That's exactly how I'm going to approach this commissionership."

"With all due respect, Pete" -- I could still call him "Pete"; he wasn't "Commissioner" yet -- "I don't think the owners will let that happen."

"Well, in the NFL, the owners had to be taught how to think differently. That will be the challenge -- teaching men like Walter O'Malley to look at baseball differently." Already, I could tell that Rozelle wasn't planning on staying on his leash very long. Boy, would O'Malley be surprised.

"Pete, a lot of clubs are suffering. Something has to be done."

"Right. Undoubtedly, when you found out you were on the list, you were thinking about baseball's problems. Pet, half of the clubs here I can depend on their support for a model of sharing revenue. The problem is, I need 75 percent support. I'll do it one league at a time if I have to, or I'll get that support in other ways."

He continued. "I asked the financially successful clubs to make a one-time donation to the smaller clubs. Gene Autry was very helpful, giving $2 million and even the Giants ponied up $1 million. I got nothing from O'Malley but a lecture on socialism. That money will go to the Blues and Reds, but it's a drop in the bucket. The Executive Council won't let me negotiate the TV contracts with CBS -- they want that in John Fetzer's hands." Fetzer was the owner of the Tigers.

"Fetzer is an old-time TV man," I said, "and CBS now runs the Yanks. They'll try to stop you."

"Two hurdles," Rozelle answered. He smiled, a very confident and dynamic man. "Pet...I just want you to know that change won't come as fast as you'd like it to come. But if there were more men like you in the NFL, frankly, we'd be more popular than baseball by now!"

(* * *)

The next day, Ford Frick, who had been commissioner of baseball for fourteen years, wrote a letter asking the Executive Committee to release him from the remaining month of his term as commissioner, and suggesting that Pete Rozelle fill the remainder of his contract.

The committee accepted. Within the space of a day the most powerful man in baseball was no more powerful than any of its fans.

Over the years, Ford Frick got a bum rap from a lot of people. But I knew him personally. He was a good man, and I can say I was glad to have known him. I only hoped that Pete Rozelle would be as half as good a man as Frick was.

[CatKnight]

A reformer. You're painting Rozelle as a reformer.

History tends to be very unkind to reformers.

The deck's stacked against him, but I wish Rozelle every luck. He's going to need it.

[moneyp]

Great stuff, Pet. Enjoying the heck out of it.

[petrel]

December 1965

On December 9th, 1965, Branch Rickey was giving a speech in Columbia Missouri. He was coming up on his 84th birthday, and he was being inducted into the Missouri Sports Hall of Fame.

He had had a heart attack on November 13th, 1965. He had been let out of the hospital to attend a football game and to be inducted, and was scheduled to go right back.

He opened with a few words...and then told the audience, "I don't think I'm going to be able to speak any longer." Then he slumped over and collapsed.

He went right back to the hospital that day and they put him in the intensive care unit. However, the Mahatma didn't make it. Branch Rickey had died, just a few weeks short of his 84th birthday.


Branch Rickey 1881-1965

Forever, Rickey will be known as the man who worked to break the color barrier in baseball, but he couldn't smash through that barrier until Jackie Robinson came along. "The passing of Mr. Rickey is like losing a father," he said. "Branch Rickey's death is a great loss not only to baseball, but to American."

Pete Rozelle, Ford Frick, Warren Giles, Casey Stengel all lined up in the press to pay their respects in print. From the few times I met him, for his help in handing the Aaron situation when he was harassed in the minor leagues, I knew him to be a great man, a great friend, and a great baseball executive. If I'm a tenth of the man that Branch Rickey was, I'll have no doubt that my contributions to baseball were positive ones.

(* * *)

Branch Rickey's death would hang a pall over the Winter Meetings in 1965 at Fort Lauderdale Florida. They would also be my final winter meetings...as a bachelor.

Pete Rozelle made his first major announcement -- after getting Walter O'Malley's permission, of course. Namely, that the Amateur Draft would be moved from January to June. "Young baseball players dream of baseball careers, but they forget their academic careers. Too often have young men skipped a final year of high school or left college early," said Commissioner Rozelle. "Now, future Major League players will have the chance to complete their educations before considering a career in the great sport of baseball."

Actually, the move didn't come from Rozelle as much as it came from the Players' Association. They were tired of having the Free Agent market withered away by the acquisition of young talent -- not that that didn't keep the Free Agent market from withering away on its own.

With 24 major league clubs, it was a seller's market among minor league franchise owners. And the dark days of the Braves having no AAA farm club ended, as St. Louis opened a AAA franchise in Tulsa, abandoning their one in Jacksonville. We used to have an A-ball franchise in Jacksonville, now the AAA Jacksonville Suns will serve as our farm club. However, Rookie League clubs remain most in demand, with 12 teams having to do without a Rookie League franchise.

The only uniform changes were those of the Baltimore Orioles and the San Francisco Seals. Baltimore finally got rid of its football-jersey block letters and returned to a more classic style.



And the Seals, who have been on the eternal quest to imitate the look of any successful major league franchise, ditched their drab logo and went Detroit style -- even though it's robbery, I'll admit that Olde English S looks really good.



(* * *)

The final major piece of news was what we've all been waiting for. I took the plunge, marrying my secretary, Phyllis Gardner, in a small church in Sharon, Massachusetts on December 22, 1965.

I'll spare you the major details, as Phyllis took care of those, but she finally got her man. Of course, it was a wedding full of Braves staff members, telegrams and presents from people throughout the baseball community, and even the arrival of my parents from Olde Kentucky!

Granted, getting my parents to Massachusetts wasn't easy. I didn't want to be married in Kentucky -- haven't lived there in years, I feel much more a Bostonian -- and Phyllis had suggested a wedding in Las Vegas, but both sets of parents turned that down.

Of course, I wasn't a church member -- but money in the collection plate does wonders, as they say. We could have gotten married by a Justice of the Peace, but after the donation I made, the reverend insisted on doing the occasion himself. (Later, I found out he was a big Braves fan and I got season tickets for his family.)

My father showed up wearing suspenders. "I never put on a tie except at my own wedding," the old man said, "and I ain't about to put one on again, not even for your wedding."

However, my Mom and Pop danced with the rest of the attendees. "We were afraid not to," my mother said. Phyllis's Irish Catholic relations disapproved of Phyllis not marrying Catholic, but with the words "free booze", I couldn't keep them out.

Everyone got snockered and we all had a rip roaring good time. The party lasted until 1 am. By the time we finally got back to my apartment and prepared for our honeymoon trip to Hawaii, both of us were so exhausted that an amorous honeymoon celebration was out of the question. (If this were 1953, I could have gone two rounds at least.)

(* * *)

Before I departed, I had to decide on who I would make acting GM.

As a general rule, I have always been the GM of this club and have refused to hire an assistant -- lest Ronald Stark Jr. decide that my assistant might be a better choice than me. However, with me gone from the stadium for a week (a week!!), I had no choice. Very reluctantly, I named Charles Sullivan Acting GM.

Not Assistant GM. I didn't want to formalize his title. However, from that moment on, people treated Chuck Sullivan as the Second in Command and Heir Apparent. But I'll have to admit...this was my honeymoon. And I loved Phyllis more than I loved baseball, I'm forced to admit...but it is awfully close!!

(* * *)

Around the world:

Charles de Gaulle is re-elected as French president.
Ferdinand Marcos becomes president of the Philippines.
The Second Vatican Council closes.
A Charlie Brown Christmas airs for the very first time.
Soviet scientists condemn Trofim Lysenko for pseudoscience.

[CatKnight]

He loves Phyllis more than baseball?

Pet's sick! Quick! Get a doctor!

[petrel]

January 1966

The Brooklynites had a saying "Wait 'Til Next Year!", which lasted as long as they weren't winning pennants. Well, I didn't have to wait till next year because here it was.

In New York City, the new year began with a mass transit strike, which stymied new mayor John Lindsay. The strike lasted 13 days, shutting down all trains and buses in the city.


No train service for this man about town.

They tried to put Transit Workers Union leader Mike Quill in jail and other labor leaders in jail. Said Mayor Lindsey, "The government of this city will not allow the power brokers in our city, or any special interest, to dictate the terms under which it will exist in New York. The paramount issue confronting us today is whether New York City can be intimidated. I say it cannot and will not."

Quinn was in horrible health, but the attempt to break the spirits of union leadership didn't work. "I don't care if I rot in jail. I will not call off the strike." It's just a reminder of how tough the old time union men were.

Quill had a heart attack in jail. Unperturbed, he was sent to Bellevue Hospital for medical treatment. He was released from the hospital on January 25th -- and gave a victory speech -- but died just three days later.

After the strike, it was now understood that the real power in New York City did not reside in city government -- it resided in the unions. New York City would just have to add to its growing deficit.

(* * *)

I managed to crawl back to the office on January 3rd, 1966. The movers had come to the apartment of Phyllis Bowman, nee Gardner, and packed up all of her stuff to take to my home, where she would take over the housekeeping duties.

You see, this was 1966. And I, being a real man, wasn't going to have my wife work! No, sirree! Last year was Phyllis's last year as my secretary. The desk next to my office was now empty, and the question was, "who is going to take over as the secretary for the GM"?

I taked to my wife and she recommended a blond, wisp of a girl named Carrie. Carrie was from London, England, of all places, but had managed to pick up enough knowledge of baseball to serve as my secretary.

Unfortunately, both my wife and I had underestimated the learning curve. Phyllis was a fast learner, and in about two to three years had picked up a base of knowledge about legal and contract issues that made her invaluable as my secretary. Phyllis knew the league rules and the rules for trades almost backwards and forwards.

Carrie knew none of it, and I was 13 years older and 13 years used to having things done my way. She didn't know which calls were important and which ones weren't. She didn't know who I wanted to talk to and who I never wanted to talk to. There was an endless amount of questions that frankly exasperated me. "Gee, Mr. Bowman," she'd say in her posh accent, "I don't know where the blank Standard League Contracts are kept."

So she'd call Phyllis on the phone and they'd talk for hours. Fifteen minutes of instruction and fifty of gossip. It was no way to get business done.

I was almost at the point where someone was going to get shot until I got a call from Phyllis. "Hi honey," I said, "do you want to talk to Carrie again?"

"No, I want to talk to you, dear husband."

"What's up?"

"I think I'd like to come back to the Braves to work," she said. "Part time, of course...and of course, if you'll let me."

"What's brought this on?" I asked.

"Well, Ron," she said. "After two weeks in this house, straightening up, cooking, and watching soap operas -- I get the feeling that tomorrow I might burn the place to the ground."

I told her to get over here as soon as possible.

Within the span of a few moments, Phyllis was back in charge, now named "Secretary Administrator". It was unfair to demote Carrie after promoting her, so Carrie was made Phyllis's personal assistant (even my assistant has an assistant!) who would take the more onorous chores from Phyllis as time passed.

That evening, I got a call from Ron Stark Jr., checking up on things. (He liked to talk on the phone at least as long as Carrie.) He asked how married life was treating me.

I told him I brought my wife back to work for me as my secretary.

"Give her a raise", he said, "I don't know what idiot you had answering the phone when she was gone, but she didn't even sound like she spoke English."

(* * *)

As for baseball, things progressed very slowly. Commissioner Rozelle was settling in just fine.

However, not even one of the top ten position player free agents had been signed by any club! Mickey Mantle was available for under $10 million by the end of the month, having come down a good 30 percent at least from his initial price.

We had our short list of prospects, all of whose prices were dropping. By the end of January, Joe Torre had dropped down to $6.4 million a year in asking price! If he could drop some more, we might get Torre back, which would solve a big problem at catcher! However, we'd have to wait and see.

The market warmed up -- a little -- at month's end. Tom Hughes, who won 19 games last year for the Cardinals, moved on to the Angels at $5.1 million a year. And the Braves 21-game winner Steve Ridzik also found a new home with the Angels, who look ready for another showdown against the Yankees in 1966.

(* * *)

Around the world:

Batman airs for the first time on ABC-TV.



The first "acid test" is conducted at the Fillmore in San Francisco.
The first SR-71 Blackbird spy plane goes into service.
Indira Gandhi is elected Prime Minister of India.

[petrel]

February 1966

Of course, the only thing I cared about in February was hearing those blessed words, "Pitchers and Catchers Report Today". Despite the fact that Giants had all of the big guns, I still eagerly looked forward to the beginning of the season. As they say, "In March, every team goes to the World Series." It's in April when some of them get sent back.

Which meant that Phyllis and I would go down to Florida to check out training in person, and I'd set up camp for about six weeks in West Palm Beach, Flordia. But, for the very first time ever, I could actually check in with Phyllis as husband and wife. Before, we would check in with separate rooms, because an unmarried couple checking in under the same room was just not done. How much things would change just a few years later.

There was some movement among Spring Training teams. The Peaches moved from Tuscon, AZ to Scottsdale, AZ, cutting themselves off from a potential Spring Training crowd from Georgia. The Los Angeles Stars left Florida and headed off to Arizona. However, the good news for the Braves bank account is that the Boston Red Sox gave up on the Cactus League and moved back to Florida, assuring a big take at the gate for our Braves/Red Sox Spring Training series.

(* * *)

In the Free Agent market, all of the major free position player free agents remained unsigned all throughout the month of February. That left a player like Mickey Mantle asking for only $6.7 million by the end of February!! I begged Ron Stark Jr. to let me sign The Mick. Initially, he agreed...but called me back about 10 seconds later, saying "hold off on that!" D-amn reliable phone service! I'll have to wait until the Mick comes down ito my price range.

The Stars went on a spending spree! They signed a slew of pitchers, Steve Craly, Jim Waugh, the great Jim Bunning out of Detroit, Cal Hogue, Hector Maestri, Herb Score, all for about $17 million dollars total. Clearly, the Stars will come gunning against the Cubs for the National League West title.

As for the Braves, we had our eyes on Andy Carey as our number one infield choice with Rudy Regalado as an alternate. When the Peaches snapped up Andy Carey, there was only one decent infielder left, and we snapped up Rudy Regalado at a cost of $2.3 million dollars.

With two pitchers remaining of Braves quality -- Howie Koplitz and Brian O'Kelley -- we signed Howie Koplitz to a $4.3 million dollar deal. For a while, Koplitz had played with us last year till we traded him to the Cardinals. Now, he'll come back to our starting rotation.

With the really good players all still on the market, we decided to make a few minor signings in case things turn against us. We signed a one-year deal for $1.8 million with catcher Gordon Massa, in case Joe Torre doesn't fall into our hands. We also signed outfielder Vic Davalillo for a super-cheap $890,000.

(* * *)

We were already aware of the fact that two new stadiums would make their debut. A new stadium for the Peaches, Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium, will replace the ancient Ponce De Leon Park. No one was able to hit the ball to the tree in center field during the park's only year of major league existence. The long-term future of the park -- a long time home of the historic Atlanta Crackers -- is in real doubt.

The Los Angeles Stars move to a new stadium, Anaheim Stadium, in just their second year. Undoubtedly, they got that money for free agent spending just by saving they money they no longer had to pay their former landlord, Walter O'Malley. The Big Oom was charging them for every little thing, even charging them for cleaning the windows of the Stars' ticket booths. Now that the Stars no longer have to pay out, Gene Autry might buy himself an National League East pennant.

In an attempt to steal the Stars' thunder, Chavez Ravine will formally be renamed "Angels Stadium", with all the attendant honor -- I suppose -- that comes with it.

(* * *)

On February 3rd, 1966, the first man-made object made a controlled landing on the Moon. And once again, the Soviets made the first strike in the great race to colonize space.

Objects have landed on the moon before -- but they've either been launched from earth to crash there, or like Luna's predecessor, Luna 8, accidentally crashed. This time, the Russians got it right, as the petals of Luna opened up, two spring-loaded antennas popped up and a camera recorded the very first pictures taken by a craft on the surface of the moon.


The Moon, up close and personal.

(* * *)

Around the world:

Buster Keaton, considered the greatest silent film star next to Charlie Chaplin, dies.
US astronauts Charles Bassett and Elliott See are killed in a training aircraft accident in St. Louis, Missouri.

[petrel]

March 1966

There was so much going on in the world that it is much easier to report on baseball. March 1966 was definitely a month of changes.

The first change involved the Pittsburgh Pirates. On March 7, 1966, Manager Casey Stengel was returning from the field after speaking with his fellow Pirates coaches and preparing to enter the dugout. With the morning dew still on the steps, Casey slipped and fell down the short set of stairs into the dugout. Complaining of severe leg pain, an ambulance was called and Casey was taken to a nearby hospital.

After X-rays were taken, doctors informed Casey that he had a broken hip. With Casey now 75 years old -- an old man back then -- his doctors told him that any recovery would be long and troublesome. Casey's doctor had a long discussion with him about the dangers of an overly active lifestyle for a man of his age.

That next day, a letter was sent via teletype to the owners of the Pittsburgh Pirates. After 56 years in baseball, Casey Stengel was retiring from the game.


Was The Old Perfesser ever this young?

He apologized to the Pittsburgh brass for retiring so close to the season. Coach Alex Grammas will take over in Pittsburgh until a replacement can be found. Right now, I feel the way I did when Branch Rickey died -- as if a door to the past has locked behind me now and forever.

(* * *)

The Sporting News had made its predictions for 1966:

NATIONAL LEAGUE

East

1. Giants
2. Braves
3. Phillies
4. Orioles
5. Dodgers
6. Pirates

West

1. Astros
2. Cubs
3. Stars
4. Cardinals
5. Brewers
6. Reds

AMERICAN LEAGUE

East

1. Yankees
2. Senators
3. Indians
4. Red Sox
5. Tigers
6. Athletics

West

1. Seals
2. Peaches
3. Angels
4. White Sox
5. Blues
6. Twins

National League Championship Series: Giants 3-0 over Astros
American League Championship Series: Yankees 3-1 over Seals
WORLD SERIES: Giants 4-3 over Yankees

In short, Giants and Yankees again. I chuckled reading the blurb on the current state of the Braves:

"...once again, the Braves will be the second best team in the National League. But unless they move to Petaluma, second best just means that they're the most successful losers."

Then again, these are the same guys who had us finishing fifth in the NL East. I also can't believe that the Astros are going to win the National League West, or that the Peaches will finish second in the American League West. For the Peaches, in particular, that would mean a very very big jump.

I am glad to see that the Brewers have a shot of avoiding the cellar. But the Athletics have been dumped in the bottom of the river again.

(* * *)

However, on the Free Agent market, only four of the top ten position players had been signed. There were bargains galore:

1. Mickey Mantle, CF : $6.1 million
2. Joe Christopher, CF: $6.2 million
3. Joe Torre, C: $5.7 million

Two of these three had played on the Braves in '65. The other one -- Mantle -- was probably Baseball's Greatest Active Player. Any one of these three on the Braves and I might have a shot at the pennant.

However, I'd be forced to bide my time. We wouldn't play a National League East team until April 22, and that would be against the lonely Casey-less Pirates. My goal was to play well, stay in contention, and just sign one of those names to a one-year contract. With luck, all of the pieces of the puzzle would snap into place in 1966.

(* * *)

In the meantime, the Houston Astros are pushing the limits of futurized baseball.

Last year, in April, several National League ballplayers were almost blinded trying to catch baseballs in the Astrodome. The Astrodome has massive, bright windows through which the sun could shine. Whenever the sun's rays passed through those windows, every outfielder prayed that he wouldn't go blind trying to catch the ball. Therefore, the Astros pained the panels over with white paint to soften the glare.

The problem was that the grass died. Therefore, Judge Roy Hofheinz contacted the Monsanto Corporation, makers of "synthetic turf" -- in essence, a carpet of plastic grass. The idea was that this artificial grass, called "Chemgrass", would replace the grass on the Astrodome field.


The future of baseball?

On April 1st, the Astros and Phillies will play the first ever professional baseball game played using this futuristic surface. However, the stuff has changed its name whenever it rests on the Astros playing field. They have decided to call it "Astroturf".

(* * *)

As for the performance of the Braves in Spring Training, the starting lineup is looking very good. As for the pitching -- well, Hank Aguirre, now 35 years old, stumbled through with a 5.52 ERA. Furthermore, my closer, Don Carpenter and my set-up man Ron Herbel didn't look that great either. However, in terms of hitting, we might be able to finish with 95 wins again.

Of course, the proof is in the tasting. We'll find out. We get the first three days of the season off, and then the Los Angeles Stars come for a visit as the 1966 baseball season opens!

(* * *)

Around the world:

Soviet space probe Venera 3 crashes on Venus, becoming the first spacecraft to land on another planet's surface.
In an interview with the London Evening Standard, John Lennon of the Beatles comments, "Wer'e more popular than Jesus now."
President Charles De Gaulle of France state that French troops will be taken out of Nato.
The Texas Western Miners, using five black starters, defeat the Kentucky Wildcats in the NCAA Men's Basketball Championship.