Baseball Hall of Shame™ Page 5
Meanwhile, St. Vrain’s incredulous teammates were yelling at the wayward runner to turn around. He finally did, but by then Wagner had fired the ball to first. It was probably the only time a batter was thrown out by more than 90 feet.
GATES BROWN
Pinch Hitter · Detroit, AL · June 9, 1968
Detroit Tigers slugger Gates Brown gave the most outrageous exhibition of hot-dogging on the basepaths that baseball has ever seen.
In a home game against the Cleveland Indians, Brown was sitting on the bench, watching a pitchers’ duel between Luis Tiant and Denny McLain. Late in the game, Brown, a 220-pounder whose love for baseball was exceeded only by his love for food, managed to get someone to sneak him two hot dogs. Sitting in the far corner of the dugout, Brown slapped mustard and ketchup on the dogs and planned to eat them on the sly. He knew Tigers manager Mayo Smith, who was always hounding him to lose weight, would be furious if he saw a player eating in the dugout during a game. But Brown was starving.
With Cleveland ahead 2–0 in the bottom of the eighth inning, the Tigers had two outs and nobody on base. At the time, Brown was the league’s best pinch hitter—he went 18 for 39 for the year—and usually was called on to hit when there were runners in scoring position. Figuring he wouldn’t be summoned in the current situation, he took a bite out of the first hot dog. Suddenly, from the other end of the dugout, he heard Smith say, “Gates, get your bat and hit.”
Brown was not prepared to play. His belt was unbuckled, his shoes were untied, and he was holding a hot dog in each hand. By turning his back to Smith, Brown was able to hide his dilemma from the manager. But because Smith was still staring at him, Brown couldn’t dump the hot dogs without getting into trouble. So he did the only thing he could do—stuff them in his jersey. Then he tied his shoes, buckled his belt, grabbed a bat, and headed for the batter’s box.
“I always wanted to get a hit every time I went up to the plate,” Brown recalled. “But this was one time I didn’t want to get a hit. I’ll be damned if I didn’t smack one in the gap and I had to slide into second—headfirst no less. I was safe with a double. But when I stood up, I had mustard and ketchup and smashed hotdogs and buns all over me.”
The front of Brown’s white jersey looked like a painter’s drop cloth of reds and yellows. “The fielders took one look at me, turned their backs, and damned near busted a gut laughing,” Brown said. “My teammates in the dugout went crazy. That had to be my most embarrassing moment in baseball.”
Brown was left stranded at second when the next batter, Dick McAuliffe, struck out. “I was pissed off,” recalled Brown. But it wasn’t because his double was wasted. “I messed up my hot dogs and I couldn’t eat them.”
In addition to the mustard and ketchup that stained his uniform, Brown had plenty of Mayo with his hot dogs. “When I returned to the dugout, Smith said, ‘What the hell were you doing eating on the bench in the first place?’” Brown recalled. “I decided to tell him the truth. I said, ‘I was hungry. Besides, where else can you eat a hot dog and have the best seat in the house?’”
The manager fined him $100.
COAKER TRIPLETT
Left Fielder · Philadelphia, NL · July 11, 1943
Coaker Triplett wanted to show his new team how to play like a confident winner. Instead, he looked like a baserunning fool.
He tried to steal an occupied base. But it got much worse than that. On the play, he forced his teammate off the bag for an out. Then Triplett stomped off the base in disgust over his own blunder and was tagged out too.
Triplett’s baserunning debacle occurred a few weeks after he had been traded by the speed-happy world champion St. Louis Cardinals to the lackluster, cellar-dwelling Philadelphia Phillies.
He quickly discovered that his new teammates were so used to losing—they had finished in last place five years in a row—that they played with the vigor of tired old grandpas on a hot summer day. He figured the only way to inspire the Phillies on the basepaths was to set an example for them. He set an example, all right—a shameful one.
In a game against the visiting Cincinnati Reds, the Phillies were losing 7–1 when they mounted a feeble rally. With one out, Ron Northey and Triplett walked and Jimmy Wasdell dropped a single into right field to load the bases.
To Triplett this was the perfect opportunity to make something happen, to play his old Cardinals’ way. Inching off second, Triplett set his sights on a stolen base. On the next pitch, he broke for third. He slid safely in a cloud of dust, only to find Northey standing on the bag with his mouth open in surprise. Triplett had just assumed Northey had scored on the previous play. Incredibly, Triplett never bothered to notice that third was still occupied.
“Get the hell off the bag!” Triplett screamed.
Even though Northey had possession of the base, he obediently sprinted for home. But Reds catcher Al “Moose” Lakeman was holding the ball and easily tagged him out.
Shamefaced over his own goof, Triplett stomped off the bag, kicking the dirt and cursing his fate. Here he was, wearing the goat horns in front of his new teammates and a Shibe Park crowd that would boo a baby.
As Triplett continued to berate himself, Reds third baseman Steve Mesner—keeping a straight face—quietly signaled for the ball. When he got it, he walked over to the fuming Triplett and put the tag on him for a double play that ended the inning and quashed the rally.
RONNY CEDENO
Pinch Runner · Chicago, NL · April 20, 2007
LEE LACY
Outfielder · Pittsburgh, NL · July 24, 1979
Ronny Cedeno and Lee Lacy hold a dubious dishonor. Each was a runner on first who managed to get thrown out at second—on a walk.
In a 2007 game, Cedeno was a pinch runner on first, representing the tying run for the Chicago Cubs in the bottom of the ninth inning with one out and the visiting St. Louis Cardinals ahead 2–1. The next batter, Jacque Jones, ran the count full. On the 3-2 pitch, Cedeno broke for second, drawing a throw from catcher Yadier Molina as Jones took ball four.
Because Cedeno was running hard on the pitch, he slid past second base. Cards shortstop David Eckstein took Molina’s throw and tagged the runner out (shown in photo). Cedeno claimed the ball was dead because of the walk, but St. Louis manager Tony LaRussa knew better. The umpires agreed with LaRussa.
“The call there was ball four and the runner is entitled to second base, but that’s it,” explained crew chief Larry Young after the game. “He over-slid the bag and was tagged out.”
So instead of having the potential tying and winning runs on first and second and one out, the Cubs had a runner on first and two out. The next batter, pinch hitter Matt Murton, then popped out to Eckstein to end another Cubs game that was tarnished by a crazy gaffe.
Cedeno out on a walkAssociated Press
Twenty-eight years earlier, Pittsburgh Pirate Lee Lacy committed the same mistake because he didn’t keep his eyes and ears open.
In the bottom of the fourth inning, the visiting Cincinnati Reds were leading the Pirates 4–3. But Pittsburgh was threatening with Lacy on first and Phil Garner on third, two out, and batter Omar Moreno at the plate with a 3-1 count.
When Reds pitcher Fred Norman delivered the next pitch, Lacy broke for second in an attempted steal. The pitch was called ball four by plate umpire Dave Pallone, but catcher Johnny Bench instinctively fired the ball to shortstop Dave Concepcion. Lacy was called out at second by umpire Dick Stello. In reality, Lacy was safe because Moreno, who was still in the batter’s box, had walked.
But Lacy failed to check the call of the home plate umpire. Thinking he had been thrown out, Lacy left the bag at second and began trotting toward the dugout. However, when he saw Moreno head to first, Lacy tried to scramble back to second base. But Concepcion made the tag—again. And Stello called Lacy out—again.
National League president Chub Feeney turned down the protest, saying, “Lacy left second base on his own volition and should have been aware of the possibilities of Moreno receiving a base on balls.”
WILLIE STARGELL
First Baseman · Pittsburgh, NL · September 19, 1978
Willie Stargell couldn’t believe his eyes. Pittsburgh Pirates manager Chuck Tanner had given him the steal sign.
For Pops, whose legs could hardly shift from neutral to first gear, stolen bases were about as common as an eclipse of the sun. In the previous 10 years, he had swiped a whopping six bases. But on this particular day, after teammate Dave Parker blasted a homer to break an 11–11 tie in the top of the 11th inning against the Chicago Cubs at Wrigley Field, Stargell thought, “Who am I to argue with Tanner?”
So Stargell lumbered toward second in one of the most ridiculous base-stealing attempts ever seen in the Majors.
The paunchy 38-year-old veteran ran as fast as he could, which meant his shadow was beating him to the bag. When Stargell was about two-thirds of the way to second base, he began a slide that made him look more like a beached whale than a ballplayer.
He came to a dead stop about 10 feet short of the bag. Closing in on the prone runner, Cubs second baseman Manny Trillo was about to make an easy tag. Stargell, who thought much quicker than he ran, decided there was only one possible way out of this predicament. He stood up, formed a T with his hands, and shouted, “Time out!” The only “out” the umpire called was Stargell.
Pops returned to the dugout, where his teammates were rollicking with laughter.
After they regained their composure, they asked Stargell why he slid so soon. “I was given some bad information,” he answered with a straight face. “I was told the bases were only 70 feet apart.”
He never stole a base the rest of his Hall of Fame career.
DAZZY VANCE
Pitcher
CHICK FEWSTER
Second Baseman
BABE HERMAN
First Baseman
Brooklyn, NL · August 15, 1926
August 15, 1926, was a landmark day in baseball history. Three Brooklyn runners held an impromptu meeting at third base during a game—while the ball was in play.
In a pitching duel at Ebbets Field, the visiting Boston Braves were winning 1–0 going into the bottom of the seventh inning. Otto Miller, Brooklyn’s regular third base coach, lamented to manager Wilbert Robinson, “God, I’m getting tired walking out there and back. Nothing ever happens at third base when we’re at bat.”
Hearing the coach’s complaint, catcher Mickey O’Neil jumped up and told Miller, “Sit still, Otto. I’ll handle it this inning.” O’Neil figured a change in the coaching box might bring the team some luck. Oh, it did all right—bad luck.
The Dodgers (known as the Robins back then) mounted a rally and tied the game. Then, with one out, they loaded the bases with Hank DeBerry on third, Dazzy Vance on second, and Chick Fewster on first. That brought up Babe Herman, who blasted a drive to deep right field. DeBerry scored. But Vance was worried the ball might be caught, so he waited on second until he saw the ball ricochet off the wall before he started plodding toward third. By then Fewster, who could tell from his vantage point that it was an extra base hit all the way, tore around second and was breathing down Vance’s neck. Meanwhile, Herman knew he had a sure double and decided on the fly to stretch it into a triple. So with his head down and his arms pumping, he galloped past second and sprinted for third.
O’Neil saw disaster looming and yelled at Herman, “Back! Back!” But Vance, who was headed toward home plate, thought the coach was talking to him. So he hurried back to third, arriving just in time to meet Fewster who had advanced from second. A split-second later, Herman chugged into third to make it three on a bag.
Fewster figured he was out and trotted off toward the dugout. Meanwhile, the relay throw had reached Braves third baseman Eddie Taylor, who was as confused as the rest, so he tagged everyone in the neighborhood. Then for good measure, second baseman Doc Gautreau snatched the ball, chased down Fewster near the dugout and tagged him too.
When it was finally sorted out, the umpires ruled Vance was safe at third because he got there first. Fewster was out because he had been tagged and Herman was out for passing him on the basepath.
Incredibly, Herman had doubled into a double play!
Robinson, disgusted by one of the greatest baserunning blunders in baseball history, growled, “That’s the first time those guys got together on anything all season.”
And it was the last time O’Neil coached at third.
JOSE LOPEZ
Second Baseman
ADRIAN BELTRE
Third Baseman
RAUL IBANEZ
Left Fielder
Seattle, AL · September 2, 2006
It had never been done before, but somehow the Seattle Mariners managed to run themselves into a triple play without hitting the ball.
In the first inning of an away game against the Tampa Bay Devil Rays, Mariners leadoff hitter Ichiro Suzuki beat out an infield single. Jose Lopez walked and Adrian Beltre slapped a run-scoring single. Seattle was poised for a big inning with Beltre on first and Lopez on third, no outs, and cleanup hitter Raul Ibanez at the plate.
But then the Mariners’ fortunes sank like the Titanic. Ibanez struck out looking on a full count for the first out. Seeing Beltre trying to swipe second base, Rays catcher Dioner Navarro looked Lopez back to third and then fired a perfect peg to second where speedy shortstop Ben Zobrist caught the throw. Beltre could tell he was a dead duck, so he put on the skids and tried to retreat toward first. Zobrist ran him down and tagged him for the second out. Meanwhile, Lopez, thinking that Zobrist was too distracted by Beltre to pay attention to third base, broke for the plate. Bad decision. Zobrist wheeled around and fired the ball to Navarro, who easily tagged Lopez for the third out to complete the stunning 2-6-2 triple play.
In a few seconds—and without a batted ball—Seattle went from runners at the corners and no outs to inning over. Nothing had ever taken the sails out of a potential Mariners rally like this one had.
“You have to get rid of that absolute hollow feeling in the pit of your stomach,” Seattle manager Mike Hargrove said after the game. “That takes a couple of innings. It was one of those things that everything had to be right for it to be pulled off—and it did, and we gave away an inning.”
A 2-6-2 triple play had never happened before, according to the Society for American Baseball Research. From the year 1900 to the day of the game, there had been 524 triple plays in the Majors, but this one was unique.
“Oh, man, that was the first triple play I’ve ever seen,” said Tampa Bay’s starting pitcher J. P. Howell after the game. “I was trying to throw a strike. I was wrapped up in that so badly that I just watched the ball fly around like a snowball fight. But it was fun, man. I needed that.”
It couldn’t have come as a complete shock to the Mariners. They had hit into a triple play just three months earlier—one of nine in the team’s relatively short history.
“It definitely was a weird play,” Ibanez said. “It’s embarrassing. The Rays pulled off the triple play, but we battled back and won the game. And that’s the important thing.”
Even though Tampa Bay lost 4–3, Navarro found a silver lining in the defeat. He told reporters
, “I’m looking forward to seeing myself on ESPN tonight.”
OLLIE O’MARA
Shortstop · Brooklyn, NL · September 5, 1916
Somewhere between home plate and first base, Ollie O’Mara lost his mind.
In a 5–2 win over the home team New York Giants, the Brooklyn Dodgers (then known as the Robins) had runners Hi Myers on first base and Jack Coombs on second when O’Mara stepped to the plate with orders to bunt. O’Mara dropped a slow roller down the third base line. Catcher Bill Rariden grabbed the ball, but threw wildly to third, trying to catch Coombs coming from second. Almost immediately, Rariden shouted, “Foul ball!” He hoped to wipe out his error by tricking home plate umpire Bill Klem into thinking the ball hadn’t been fair.
O’Mara, who had started for first, turned around and headed back toward the batter’s box after he heard someone shout that his bunt rolled foul.
But Klem yelled, “Fair ball!”
O’Mara, oblivious to the errant throw, bellowed back, “Foul ball!”
Klem insisted otherwise and thundered, “Fair ball!”
Meanwhile, Giants left fielder George Burns was chasing the ball, which had bounded all the way to the wall. As O’Mara continued to argue with the umpire, four Dodgers jumped out of the dugout, raced up to O’Mara, and exhorted him to start running. But the hardheaded O’Mara refused to listen to them and remained at the plate.
As the debate raged on, baserunners Coombs and Myers scored, while Burns tracked down the ball. In desperation, the Brooklyn strong-arm squad grabbed O’Mara and hustled him down the first base line as he kicked, punched, and screamed at his teammates.
It was all to no avail. The protesting O’Mara and his escorts were thrown out at first base by 10 feet.
GENE FREESE