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Lou Brock used his legs to become one of baseball’s best players. He used his head when it came to business.

Brock, National League career leader in stolen bases (938), was an entrepreneur who got involved in many businesses (florist, corporate pitchman, sporting goods, television sports programmer, broadcaster) during and after his playing career.

As Kevin Horrigan, St. Louis Post-Dispatch, noted, “To Lou, business opportunities are likes bases … waiting, not to be stolen, but taken … You can’t steal a base if you don’t run, and you can’t make any money if you don’t dare greatly.”

The business that brought Brock the most attention was the umbrella hat.

Brock designed, marketed and sold the BroccaBrella.

Fashion statement

Not to be confused with the euphonious John Boccabella, the catcher who batted .219 in 12 big-league seasons, Brock’s patented BroccaBrella was worn on the head and protected users from the sun or rain.

(There are various published spellings of Brock’s umbrella hat, including BrockaBrella and Broc-a-Brella, but in all of the company’s advertisements during the 1970s it was BroccaBrella.)

As the St. Louis Post-Dispatch noted, “The BroccaBrella wasn’t merely a hat or an umbrella; it was both accessories melded into one stylistic statement. The design concept was simple enough: Take one adjustable headband, attach a lightweight frame, then cover with a colorful swatch of material.”

According to a 1978 Post-Dispatch ad, “With a jaunty BroccaBrella, you’re always ready for both sun and rain. With both hands free for work or play, and with room for air to circulate and cool your head. Adjustable headband, aluminum frame and ribs, rainproof nylon cover. Folds into pocket or beach bag.”

The BroccaBrella was offered for $5.95, or two for $10, in the 1978 Post-Dispatch ad, but Eagle supermarket in Springfield, Ill., priced it at $3.97 in 1979 and a 1980 ad in The Sporting News listed the product at $4.95.

An acquired taste

According to multiple published reports, Brock conceived the idea for the umbrella hat as a way to shield visiting players from objects heaved by bleacher fans at Chicago’s Wrigley Field. He sent his design to an Asian manufacturer. When a shipment of umbrella hats arrived, Brock and Cardinals teammate Al Hrabosky wore the gadgets, partly as a gag, during warmups before a game at Chicago.

Though the umbrella hat was mocked as goofy by some, others were intrigued. Sensing an opportunity, Brock got a patent. His business, Broc-World Products, which marketed sports novelties, began selling the BroccaBrella in 1976 while Brock still was playing for the Cardinals.

It was pitched in ads as a sun and rain protector for people fishing, golfing, gardening, doing yardwork, relaxing at the beach or spectating at sports events.

The Post-Dispatch’s Robert W. Duffy called the BroccaBrella “the weirdest-looking headdress since Carmen Miranda’s fruit hats.”

Brock told the Columbia Missourian that the umbrella hat was “for people who have a creative image of themselves” and “who are a little bit daring.”

The rainmaker

Brock was a relentless promoter of the umbrella hat, wearing it with a smile whenever news cameras were on the scene. At the 1977 baseball winter meetings, he modeled the BroccaBrella poolside at the Sheraton Waikiki. At a meeting in New York, he gave one to Mayor Abraham Beame.

Cardinals owner Gussie Busch wore the umbrella hat at a game. Comedian Steve Martin appeared on “The Tonight Show” with one on his noggin. Cincinnati Bengals linemen Bob Brown and Coy Bacon wore BroccaBrellas at a 1976 team practice.

When Pope John Paul II visited the U.S., BroccaBrellas designed with the papal coat of arms were sold to the faithful as sun protection during outdoor Mass.

According to the Post-Dispatch, the majority of customers bought the umbrella hat to ward off the sun. Brock told the Sarasota Herald-Tribune, “The people who use it are mostly fishermen and little old ladies in the garden.”

By June 1978, Brock’s company reported $500,000 in BroccaBrella sales.

In 2010, in a Cardinals ballpark promotion, 25,000 replica BroccaBrellas were given to fans attending the game. Brock, wearing one of the replica umbrella hats, threw the ceremonial first pitch.

Nearly 50 movies have been made about the adventures of Charlie Chan, the fictional Chinese-American detective created by novelist Earl Derr Biggers.

Warner Oland, a Swede, played the title role in 16 films. Sidney Toler from Warrensburg, Missouri, was the philosophical detective in 22 pictures. Other movie Charlie Chans included Ross Martin and Peter Ustinov. Peter Sellers spoofed the character in “Murder by Death.”

In “Charlie Chan at the Opera,” Boris Karloff played the main suspect. “Charlie Chan at the Olympics” included footage of the 1936 Berlin Games. There also were “Charlie Chan at the Circus” and “Charlie Chan at the Race Track,” but no movie of Charlie Chan at the baseball park.

The Cardinals provided the closest version. They had Charlie Chant in the outfield.

Name game

The fictional Charlie Chan was born in China and immigrated with his parents to Honolulu. As a young man he joined the city’s police department and worked his way up to detective, then inspector, because of his skills in solving high-profile cases. Chan’s most prominent connection to baseball came in the film “Charlie Chan in Panama” with a mention that a son, Jimmy (played by Victor Sen Yung), was a member of the University of Southern California (USC) team.

Baseball’s Charlie Chant was born and raised in the Los Angeles area to parents of English, Irish and Scottish ancestry. There is no Chinese in his lineage. His formal name is Charles Joseph Chant. He preferred to be called Chuck _ that was what he went by in high school _ but was known as Charlie during his pro career because of the surname.

“A lot of people still keep leaving the ‘t’ off my last name,” Chant said to Neal Russo of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch in 1975. (Russo added, “Charlie Chant is pretty tired of hearing all the cracks about his name.”)

Chant was a high school shortstop when the Oakland A’s drafted him in the 19th round in June 1969. Assigned to a farm club managed by Hall of Famer Billy Herman in Kennewick, Washington, Chant, 17, clouted a home run in his first professional at-bat. He played second base, shortstop and third base that first season but was shifted to the outfield the next year.

“Cannot tell where path lead until reach end of road.” _ Charlie Chan in “Charlie Chan at the Circus.”

The case of the unlucky nighthawk

In a May 1972 game at Birmingham’s Rickwood Field, Steve Gardner of the Columbus (Ga.) Astros hit a shot to the outfield. As Chant tracked the ball, a nighthawk chasing insects swooped across the sky. The ball struck the bird.

“The bird went one way, the ball the other, but that didn’t confuse Chant,” Bill Lumpkin noted in the Birmingham Post-Herald. “Chant played the ball instead of the bird and caught it for the out.”

The nighthawk fell dead near shortstop Gary Marion (nephew of Marty Marion). “The bird almost hit him in the head,” Chant recalled to the Post-Dispatch.

“In darkness, sometimes difficult to distinguish hawk from vulture.” _ Charlie Chan in “Charlie Chan’s Murder Cruise.”

The case of the mysterious dancing knuckler

Chant advanced through the Oakland system, earning a reputation as a good defensive outfielder with a strong arm. He regularly cut down runners trying to advance, totaling 24 assists with Tucson in 1974. Chant also hit 31 doubles that season. He had 27 doubles, 21 steals and 18 assists for Tucson the next year.

(According to The Sporting News, when someone asked Tucson pitcher Dave Hamilton whether Chant was Chinese, he replied, “No. He’s a right fielder.”)

It was a tough time, though, to gain a spot on the Oakland regular-season roster. The A’s were flush with talent and success, winning five division titles and three World Series championships between 1971 and 1975. Chant’s career got stalled at the Class AAA level until the A’s called him up in September 1975 and issued him uniform No. 24. (The A’s eventually retired that number to honor the player who later wore it, Rickey Henderson.)

Manager Alvin Dark didn’t do Chant any favors. The one time Chant got to start was as the designated hitter against Wilbur Wood, the knuckleballing left-hander with a 1.55 ERA versus the 1975 A’s. Chant went hitless in four at-bats. Boxscore

“Door of opportunity swing both ways.” _ Charlie Chan, “Murder Over New York.”

The case of Lou Brock’s stolen at-bat

The A’s traded Chant to the Cardinals for infielder Larry Lintz in October 1975. The 1976 Cardinals media guide suggested Chant “has a chance of making the Cardinals as a pinch-hitter and reserve outfielder.” Instead, he was sent to their Tulsa farm club managed by Ken Boyer.

When Cardinals center fielder Bake McBride underwent knee surgery in early August 1976, Jerry Mumphrey came off the bench to replace him. Seeking someone to fill Mumphrey’s previous role, the Cardinals wanted to call up Mike Easler, who hit .352 with 26 home runs at Tulsa, but he was out of options and frozen on the Class AAA roster. So Chant, batting .281, was the choice.

His two months with the 1976 Cardinals produced two highlights:

_ Chant was a pinch-hitter for a future Hall of Famer, Lou Brock.

_ Chant’s first big-league hit contributed to a winning rally.

At 37, Lou Brock still was a force and he showed it in a game against the Padres on Aug. 17, 1976, at St. Louis. Brock produced a double, two walks, three stolen bases, three runs scored and a RBI.

With the Cardinals ahead, 9-3, in the seventh and a left-hander, Dave Tomlin, on the mound for the Padres, St. Louis manager Red Schoendienst decided Brock had done enough for one night. With runners on second and third, two outs, Schoendienst sent Chant to bat for Brock. Chant flied out to left. Boxscore

On Sept. 1, 1976, in the 11th inning of a scoreless game against the Reds at St. Louis, the Cardinals had runners on first and second, none out, and Chant at the plate. He’d entered the game in the 10th as a defensive replacement in left field.

Chant was given the bunt sign, but as he later told the Post-Dispatch, “I’m not very good at bunting. With Oakland, they really didn’t work at it.”

Facing Rawly Eastwick, Chant bunted the ball hard. First baseman Tony Perez slipped as he reached for the ball. Eastwick picked it up and bounced a throw to Joe Morgan covering first. Chant was safe with a single, his first hit in the majors, and both runners advanced. The Cardinals went on to win on a bases-loaded walk to Don Kessinger. Boxscore

Chant’s only other big-league hit, a single against the Pirates’ Jim Rooker, came on the last day of the season. Boxscore

“Optimist only sees doughnut, pessimist sees hole.” _ Charlie Chan in “Charlie Chan in Paris.”

The case of the changing tides

In a 1977 spring training game on St. Patrick’s Day, Charlie Chant had Cardinals eyes smiling when he slammed a game-winning two-run homer against Silvio Martinez of the White Sox, but it wasn’t enough to earn him an Opening Day roster spot with St. Louis.

Sent to Class AAA New Orleans, Chant batted .157. Even teammate Tony La Russa (.188) hit better. Demoted to Class AA Arkansas, Chant (.209) couldn’t hit there either. At 26, his playing days were finished.

About this time, Charlie Chan was fading out of favor. Critics viewed the fictional figure as an insulting stereotype.

In 1958, James Hong, an Asian-American actor, played Charlie Chan’s son on a television show. In 1980, Hong told the Oakland Tribune he regretted that part. “Charlie Chan was a role created by the white man,” Hong said, “and for 50 years he was the only leading Asian character, complete with buck teeth and fortune cookie language.”

 

Just as a renter seeking a good apartment wants a fair chance from a landlord, a baseball prospect looking to play regularly wants a fair chance from a manager.

Bud Zipfel was a ballplayer, then a landlord.

A left-handed power hitter who had a stint in the Cardinals’ system after two years in the American League, Zipfel’s baseball career stalled, in part, because he wasn’t in the everyday lineup.

His time as a landlord was marred by allegations of discriminatory housing practices.

Zippity-do-dah

Marion Sylvester Zipfel was from Belleville, Ill., near St. Louis. He was called Bud at home and Zip on the ballfield.

In June 1956, the Yankees signed Zipfel, 17, on the recommendation of scout Lou Maguolo. Yankees assistant general manager Bill DeWitt Sr. made four trips to the Zipfel family home to seal the deal, the Belleville News-Democrat reported.

Zipfel was an outfielder his first three seasons (1956-58) in the Yankees’ system, but his throwing arm lacked zip and he was moved to first base in 1959.

Hitting was what Zipfel did best. He produced 104 RBI in 123 games with Fargo in 1959; 28 home runs and 107 RBI with Binghamton in 1960. A pull hitter, his swing was tailored to take advantage of the short (296 feet) distance from home plate along the right field line to the outfield stands at Yankee Stadium.

“If he plays his cards right, there may be no jackpot too big for Zipfel,” John W. Fox of the Binghamton Press noted.

Some pegged Zipfel as heir apparent to Yankees first baseman Moose Skowron, but Zipfel ended up with an American League expansion team, the 1961 Washington Senators. “I’m sorry we lost him,” Yankees manager Ralph Houk told the Washington Evening Star. “… We were gambling we could sneak him through the (expansion) draft. Somebody on the Washington club had good information.”

Zinging the ball

With the Senators at 1961 spring training in Pompano Beach, Zipfel, 22, “impressed camp followers with his classic batting swing, which can be described only as gorgeous,” Morris Siegel of the Washington Daily News observed.

Among those impressed was Senators manager Mickey Vernon, a two-time American League batting champion who, like Zipfel, batted left and played first base. “I like the way he swings a bat … He has a good stroke,” Vernon told the Washington Evening Star.

Another who took interest in Zipfel at 1961 spring training was White Sox scout Bucky Harris, who had managed two World Series champions (1924 Senators and 1947 Yankees). “I like his stroke … Washington was lucky to come up with Zipfel,” Harris told the Washington Evening Star.

Though Zipfel hit .391 in spring training exhibition games, he’d never played above the Class A level during the regular season, so the Senators decided he should spend 1961 with Class AAA Houston.

While Zipfel slugged for Houston (21 homers in 378 at-bats), Senators first baseman Dale Long struggled (hitting .182 with runners in scoring position).

In late July 1961, Zipfel was called up to Washington and Mickey Vernon put the rookie in the starting lineup. Zipfel zapped his first home run, against Phil Regan in the 11th inning, halfway into the upper deck in right-center at Tiger Stadium, propelling the Senators to victory. He had two hits, two walks and three RBI in a rout of the Yankees, and two triples and four RBI at Baltimore versus the Orioles. Boxscore, Boxscore, Boxscore

Senators owner Pete Quesada, a retired U.S. Air Force lieutenant general and former head of the Federal Aviation Administration, gushed to the Washington Evening Star in August 1961, “We paid $75,000 (in the expansion draft) for Bud Zipfel. People asked, ‘Who is Zipfel?’ I wouldn’t sell him now for $200,000.”

On their way to a last-place finish, the Senators sought any chance to create enthusiasm, but their zealousness for Zipfel was premature. He batted .200 for the 1961 Senators, with more strikeouts (49) than hits (34).

Ups and downs

After the 1961 season, Zipfel served six months with a U.S. Marines reserve unit and missed most of 1962 spring training. He was sent to the minors to get playing time, then brought back to Washington in late June 1962.

Zipfel slammed a Dean Stone pitch into the upper deck at Comiskey Park in Chicago for a home run and had a walkoff RBI-double to beat the Red Sox. Boxscore

His last big-league home run was a highlight. On Sept. 12, 1962, the Senators’ Tom Cheney, a former Cardinal, struck out 21 Orioles at Baltimore. Zipfel’s homer versus Dick Hall in the 16th inning broke a 1-1 tie and gave Cheney and the Senators the win. Cheney, who threw 228 pitches, told the Baltimore Sun, “When Zipfel homered, I was about ready for it.” Boxscore

Overall, though, Zipfel’s 1962 performance for the Senators was unexceptional. Platooning at first base and left field, he batted .239 with six homers. “If you’re playing in the little or big leagues, you are naturally going to play better when you play every day,” Zipfel told the Belleville News-Democrat.

The Senators assigned Zipfel to their fall Florida Instructional League team after the season but in the nine weeks there he showed “absolutely nothing,” coach George Case told the Washington Evening Star.

That prompted the Senators to sell Zipfel’s contract in December 1962 to the Reds, who put him in the minors.

In August 1965, the Reds shipped Zipfel, 26, to the Cardinals’ Jacksonville farm team, completing the December 1964 trade that sent Roger Craig and Charlie James from St. Louis to Cincinnati for Bob Purkey and a player to be named. The Reds first offered shortstop Francisco Obregon, but the Cardinals said no. Perhaps on the recommendation of Mickey Vernon, a Cardinals coach in 1965, Zipfel was the player St. Louis accepted.

The 1966 season was Zipfel’s last. He began the year with Arkansas, a Cardinals’ Class AA affiliate, and ended it with a Class A Phillies farm team.

Fair housing

Zipfel returned home to Belleville and operated an insurance agency and a real estate company that specialized in apartment rentals.

In 2001, Crystal Hill, 19, sought a Belleville apartment for her and a 5-month-old son. She contacted Zipfel, who told Hill he wouldn’t rent her a one-bedroom apartment because she had a child, the St. Louis Post-Dispatch reported.

The federal Fair Housing Act makes it illegal to consider race, color, religion, national origin, sex, disability or family status in rental sales, lending, or homeowner’s insurance decisions.

“It’s aggravating when you’re a single mom and you’re trying to get out of a certain situation, and you’re stuck, and they (landlords) don’t want to make it easier on you,” Hill told Mike Fitzgerald of the Belleville News-Democrat. “You just need to give people a chance.”

Hill sought help from the Metropolitan St. Louis Equal Housing and Opportunity Council, a private nonprofit fair housing enforcement and education organization founded to combat illegal housing discrimination.

During a three-month investigation, the housing council’s Jamie McFarland, a fair housing specialist, sent testers posing as renters to build a discrimination case against Zipfel. According to the Post-Dispatch, Zipfel gave housing council testers posing as renters different information about the availability of apartments depending on their race and whether they had children, McFarland said.

The housing council investigation “concluded that Zipfel had discriminated against (Crystal) Hill and also had unfairly denied housing to black (testers) posing as prospective renters,” the Post-Dispatch reported. McFarland said Bud Zipfel Enterprises “offered to show apartments to white people while telling black people and single parents to look elsewhere,” the Post-Dispatch reported.

“To me, it’s clear that this is race discrimination,” McFarland told William Lamb of the Post-Dispatch. “Everyone deserves equal access to all housing.”

Zipfel and the housing council reached an out-of-court settlement. He paid $5,000 to Crystal Hill and $45,000 to the housing council, the Post-Dispatch reported.

Followup test

In 2004, two years after the settlement, the housing council sent nine testers posing as renters to Zipfel’s business, housing council executive director Will Jordan told the Belleville News-Democrat. Jordan told the newspaper that white testers were shown apartments but some black testers either were not shown an apartment or “they were shown something less than desirable.”

Housing tester R.J. Tanner reported that Zipfel said he kept the number of blacks in his apartments to about 20 percent, the Belleville newspaper reported.

In his report, Tanner said Zipfel told him “lately, since the blacks were coming up from East St. Louis like a wet sieve, problems have gotten worse.”

Zipfel told George Pawlaczyk of the Belleville newspaper, “He (Tanner) said I don’t want any bad blacks. That’s right. I don’t want bad blacks, and I don’t want bad whites … We’re careful of who we rent to _ black or white.”

In his report, Tanner concluded, “I felt that he believed he was the protector of the city … by unilaterally making these decisions.”

The Cardinals went shopping for a left-handed starting pitcher at the 1971 baseball winter meetings in Phoenix. They pursued St. Louisan Ken Holtzman, but the Cubs traded him to the Athletics for Rick Monday. They tried for Tommy John, but the White Sox sent him to the Dodgers for Dick Allen.

Next on their list was Dave Roberts of the Padres. “Roberts is a very desirable pitcher,” Cardinals general manager Bing Devine told Ed Wilks of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. “We thought we had made a pretty good offer for him and thought we were close to getting him (but) San Diego wanted Ted Sizemore, and, if we trade him, who plays second base?”

So, instead, San Diego dealt Roberts to the Astros for Derrel Thomas, Bill Greif and Mark Schaeffer.

Cleveland offered its top pitcher, left-hander Sam McDowell, but Devine replied with a firm no.

“Maybe I’ve never been impressed by McDowell as much as many baseball men,” Devine said to Bob Broeg of the Post-Dispatch in December 1971. “We would like to add a starting pitcher … but I couldn’t justify giving up promising young (pitchers) such as Reggie Cleveland or Jerry Reuss for McDowell.”

Though McDowell five times led the American League in striking out the most batters, Devine noted, he also five times led the AL in walking the most batters.

There was another thing: “Sam hasn’t always taken care of himself,” Devine said diplomatically to the Post-Dispatch.

In fact, McDowell was an alcoholic.

Sudden Sam

Big (6-foot-5) and athletic, McDowell was a dominating pitcher for Pittsburgh’s Central Catholic High School (also the alma mater of future NFL quarterbacks Dan Marino of the Miami Dolphins and Marc Bulger of the St. Louis Rams).

The Cleveland Indians signed him in 1960. With their Class D farm club in Lakeland (Fla.), McDowell, 17, “displayed a sizzling fastball and a curve that literally flopped off the table,” the Lakeland Ledger reported.

Cleveland officials put McDowell on a fast track. At 18, he made a huge leap from Class D to Class AAA in 1961 and finished the season in the majors, starting against the Twins. Boxscore

McDowell got nicknamed “Sudden Sam” because of how his fastball suddenly burst upon batters at the plate. The back of his 1963 Topps bubblegum card noted, “Cleveland fans can’t help but compare Sam to Bob Feller when they watch this fire-balling youngster perform.”

In the book “We Played the Game,” Cleveland pitcher Pedro Ramos said McDowell had “a blazing fastball and so much wildness that batters were scared of him. We all thought that if he learned better control he was going to be a big winner.”

Wild thing

McDowell was an exasperating talent. He could be wonderful or wretched _ sometimes in the same game. In pitching a two-hitter against the White Sox, he struck out 11; walked nine. In a win versus Washington, he whiffed 15 but gave up 11 hits and five walks. Boxscore and Boxscore

On a night when he had both overpowering stuff and command of his pitches, striking out 16 and walking none in a three-hitter against the Athletics, McDowell told the Cleveland Plain Dealer, “You have just seen the eighth wonder of the world. I mean, I made only 119 pitches and the game was over in two hours and 11 minutes. I never thought I’d see the day.” Boxscore

The lack of control he experienced on the mound extended to his lifestyle. “I was baseball’s answer to Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” McDowell told The Pittsburgh Press.

Except for an occasional beer, McDowell said he didn’t drink alcohol until he got to the big leagues. He started guzzling the booze, he told The Pittsburgh Press, because, “I just wanted to be one of the boys … I wanted to be wanted.”

McDowell became addicted to alcohol. He had a penchant for barroom brawling when drunk. “I can’t tell you how many times I sat in a police department,” he told Jim O’Brien of The Pittsburgh Press.

(O’Brien and McDowell were high school classmates. In 1981, when McDowell decided to go public with the story of his alcoholism, he contacted O’Brien.)

During his time with Cleveland, McDowell had a 122-109 record and 2.99 ERA, but he and the club were ready for a divorce. General manager Gabe Paul put out the word at the 1971 baseball winter meetings that McDowell was available.

According to The Sporting News, Cleveland offered McDowell to every club and more than a dozen were interested. The Tigers offered Mickey Stanley, Dick McAuliffe and Mike Kilkenny. The Mets offered Jerry Koosman and an infielder, columnist Dick Young reported.

Giant gaffe

Since winning the National League pennant in 1962, the Giants had been on a perpetual (and usually futile) quest for a left-handed ace. They traded Felipe Alou to the Braves for Bob Hendley, Matty Alou to the Pirates for Joe Gibbon, Orlando Cepeda to the Cardinals for Ray Sadecki, reacquired Mike McCormick from the Senators, and signed 44-year-old Warren Spahn.

When Cleveland dangled Sam McDowell as trade bait, the Giants bit. They dealt Gaylord Perry and Frank Duffy for the left-hander. “They didn’t know about my drinking problem,” McDowell told The Pittsburgh Press.

On the day after the trade, “I flew to San Francisco (and) I got drunk on the plane,” McDowell said to Jim O’Brien. “I was arrested at a restaurant there that night for disorderly conduct.”

Departing spring training with the 1972 Giants, McDowell “didn’t get out of the Phoenix airport without assistance,” the San Francisco Examiner reported. “He bombed out at the bar and collapsed on the floor.”

Gaylord Perry won 24 for Cleveland in 1972 and received the American League Cy Young Award. McDowell was 10-8 (1-1 versus the Cardinals) for the 1972 Giants.

The next year, McDowell pitched mostly in relief. His last win for the Giants came against St. Louis before he was shipped to the Yankees in June 1973. Boxscore

“The Giants were in Pittsburgh (when) I was told that I had been sold to the Yankees,” McDowell recalled to The Pittsburgh Press. “I took a plane to Oakland to join the Yankees there. I got out there six hours before they did and I got blitzed out of my mind.”

Bronx bomber

Manager Ralph Houk put McDowell in a starting rotation with Mel Stottlemyre, Doc Medich, Fritz Peterson and Pat Dobson. McDowell won five of his first six decisions, then lost seven in a row as his drinking worsened.

In his book “The Bronx Zoo,” Yankees reliever Sparky Lyle said, “When Sam was with us he had a terrible drinking problem … Sam was notorious for getting in the sauce, getting real rowdy, picking a fight and getting beat up.”

McDowell said to The Pittsburgh Press, “Looking back, it’s hard to understand how the managers put up with me. I knew I went beyond the bounds of normal decency once I got into my addiction.”

McDowell told Jim O’Brien how he betrayed the trust of Ralph Houk: “I was out late one night in Minneapolis and I’d been drinking pretty good and I stepped off a curb and tore the hell out of my ankle. I told Houk I did it on an escalator in a department store. Houk asked me if that’s what really happened … I said, ‘Yeah, that’s how it happened.’ I lied straight to his face.”

In 1974, Bill Virdon managed the Yankees. McDowell told Jim O’Brien, “I came to Yankee Stadium one day stoned out of my mind. I was getting killed diving after balls in the outfield during the pregame warmup … Virdon sent the pitching coach out to get me off the field before I got killed out there.”

Virdon recalled to The Pittsburgh Press, “When Sam was with the Yankees, we sent him to psychiatrists. We had to get him out of jail a couple of times. We had to have a babysitter for him on the road.”

The Yankees released him in December 1974.

Last chance

McDowell’s hometown team, the Pirates, threw him a lifeline, inviting him to 1975 spring training. “I had dreamed of pitching for the Pirates when I was a kid,” McDowell said to The Pittsburgh Press.

He pitched well at training camp and the Pirates offered him a spot on the Opening Day roster, but general manager Joe Brown also told McDowell there would be zero tolerance of any drunkenness.

McDowell was on good behavior until June 21, a Saturday. He pitched four scoreless innings of relief that day against the Mets at Shea Stadium. “I went out that night in New York and celebrated,” McDowell recalled to Jim O’Brien. “I got back to my hotel room at 6 a.m., if that.” Boxscore

When he was called on to warm up in the bullpen at Shea Stadium that Sunday afternoon, McDowell couldn’t get a pitch near the plate. “Don Leppert, our bullpen coach, took me inside and told me to stay out of sight,” McDowell told The Pittsburgh Press.

A week later, when they returned from the road trip, the Pirates released him. At 33, McDowell’s pitching days were finished.

Biggest win

Deep in debt, McDowell took a job selling insurance in Pittsburgh to support a wife and children, but his addiction had a stranglehold on him.

He told Jim O’Brien, “I wanted to fight everybody and the only one I was beating up was me … Toward the end of my drinking days … I couldn’t go into a bar without getting my butt kicked seriously, or I’d remodel the bar … A sheriff would serve me with papers regularly. To me it was always someone else’s fault … In time I realized it was me, and that was my problem.”

After awakening from a two-day binge in April 1980, McDowell decided to quit drinking. He entered a rehabilitation program at a Pittsburgh hospital. The experience inspired him to become a counselor. McDowell earned an associate’s degree in sports counseling and addictions at the University of Pittsburgh, and the state of Pennsylvania certified him as a counselor in 1982.

McDowell was hired by big-league franchises such as the Blue Jays, Rangers and Reds to counsel their players.

 

It was easy to see why, for some, Fort Lauderdale in February 1963 was like paradise. Sunshine and scents of citrus blossoms carried by gentle sea breezes were abundant in the Florida coastal town.

Bolstered by the hit 1960 film “Where the Boys Are,” thousands of college students frolicked in the Atlantic Ocean surf and in hangouts like the Elbo Room.

The Yankees, reigning World Series champions, were headquartered for spring training in the oceanfront Yankee Clipper Hotel. Designed to model a luxury ocean liner, the hotel featured The Wreck Bar, where patrons could sip rum runners while seated along portholes that gave enticing views of mermaid shows being performed in the swimming pool. Mickey Mantle, Roger Maris, Whitey Ford, Yogi Berra or even the Yankee Clipper himself, Joe DiMaggio, then a spring training batting instructor, might show up to see their favorite mermaids.

A significant benefit of staying at the Yankee Clipper Hotel in 1963 was that it didn’t discriminate against people because of skin color. Before 1962, the Yankees (like the Cardinals) trained in St. Petersburg, and their hotel headquarters, The Soreno, refused to admit blacks.

Fort Lauderdale, too, was resistant to ending segregation. A 1927 ordinance restricted black residents and businesses to the northwest sector of the city. Fort Lauderdale’s beaches weren’t desegregated until 1962. Segregation wasn’t fully dissolved in the town until the federal Civil Rights Act of 1964 became law.

A prominent social spot for blacks in Fort Lauderdale was a two-story building patrons called “The Elks Rest,” formally known as the Pride of Fort Lauderdale Elks Lodge No. 652. (Newspapers referred to it as the Negro Elks Club.)

“Back in the day, especially during the 1950s, ’60s, ’70s, anybody black and of high regard and considered ‘classy’ would most likely visit the Elks during their visit to Fort Lauderdale,” James Dallas II, son of a civic leader, recalled to Fort Lauderdale Magazine. “It was not just for these out-of-town visitors but also for everyday people looking for a cozy watering hole where they could have a few drinks and some good conversation.”

One of those finding his way there one night in February 1963 was Marshall Bridges. A left-handed pitcher, Bridges reached the majors with the 1959 Cardinals and was the top reliever for the 1962 champion Yankees.

Bridges was having a drink at the bar when he tried to strike up a conversation with a woman. She wasn’t interested, but Bridges persisted. So she reached into her purse, pulled out a gun and shot him.

Building bridges

Marshall Bridges was from Jackson, Mississippi. He quit school in ninth grade and at 14 got a job as a porter, or custodian, at the state capitol building in 1945, according to the Jackson Clarion-Ledger.

(Throughout the 1950s and into the early 1960s, Bridges worked as a porter at the state capitol building during the fall and winter after baseball season. With salary and tips, he earned $50 a week, United Press International reported in 1961. “This is not a bad job as temporary jobs go,” Bridges told the wire service.)

In 1947, Jackson had a minor league team, an affiliate of the Boston Braves. Bridges, 16, became a groundskeeper’s assistant and then a clubhouse attendant. He was paid $28 a week, according to the St. Louis Post-Dispatch.

“I used to throw during my lunch hour and every other chance I got when I was the clubhouse boy and the bat boy,” Bridges recalled to reporter Neal Russo. “I used to run errands and do all kinds of things for the ballplayers. They got to like me and gave me all the bats, balls and gloves I could use _ new ones, too.”

The Jackson manager, Willis Hudlin, totaled 157 wins as a Cleveland Indians pitcher. When he noticed Bridges tossing balls, he gave the youngster advice on how to pitch. Bridges joined a local semipro team in 1948 and played on weekends. He had talent and “was one of the players developed through the Delta Baseball School,” the Memphis Commercial Appeal reported.

The school was operated by Homer “Goose” Curry, manager of the Memphis Red Sox of the Negro American League. Curry brought Bridges to Memphis in 1950 to pitch and play outfield.

After the 1952 season, Bridges was part of a Negro American League all-star squad that played against a barnstorming team of major leaguers led by Dodgers catcher Roy Campanella. “As a result of his brilliant work in that series,” Bridges’ contract was purchased for $10,000 by the New York Giants, who outbid Brooklyn and Cleveland, the Memphis Commercial Appeal reported.

Baseball odyssey

At the Giants’ 1953 minor-league spring training camp, Bridges impressed more with the bat than with his pitching. Giants officials deemed him a first baseman and assigned him to the Sioux City (Iowa) Soos. “His fielding at the start of the season was, to say the least, on the crude side,” the Sioux City Journal noted.

Bridges made errors, didn’t hit enough and was back with the Negro American League Memphis club as a pitcher in June 1954. Given the chance to start regularly, he regained his form.

Bridges pitched mostly for unaffiliated teams in the minors for the next four seasons and did well as a starter, including 15-1 with Amarillo in 1955.

Developing a curve to mix with a fastball, Bridges won 16 and struck out 205 with Sacramento of the Pacific Coast League in 1958. Scout Joe Mathes recommended Bridges to the Cardinals, who purchased his contract in October 1958.

After opening the 1959 season with Rochester, Bridges, 28, got the call he’d dreamed about. The former minor-league clubhouse attendant was going to the big leagues to pitch for the Cardinals.

Badge of honor

Bridges was assigned to room on the road with first baseman George Crowe. According to John Stamm of the Jackson Clarion-Ledger, when Bridges introduced himself by his first name, Marshall, Crowe immediately thought of a deputy marshal, like Wyatt Earp, from an old Western. Crowe nicknamed him “Sheriff” and soon all the Cardinals were calling Bridges that.

Cardinals manager Solly Hemus viewed Bridges as a reliever. “He fits into our pattern of need; that is, he can throw exceptionally hard in a jam,” Hemus told the St. Louis Globe-Democrat.

In his big-league debut, Bridges pitched 5.1 innings in relief of Larry Jackson and got the win against the Phillies. Boxscore

Two weeks later, Hemus gave Bridges a start versus the Reds at Cincinnati. In the first inning, Bridges clouted a two-run home run against Orlando Pena. Boxscore

(Though he never homered again in the majors and batted .119 overall, Bridges fancied himself a hitter. In 1965, after Bridges stroked a two-run triple against Dean Chance, the 1964 Cy Young Award winner, he told Steve Jacobson of Newsday, “Three greatest hitters _ Williams, Bridges, Musial.”)

In his second Cardinals start, the Sheriff prevailed in a duel with Sandy Koufax, striking out nine Dodgers and earning the win. With St. Louis, Bridges totaled three wins versus the Dodgers and Koufax was the starter in each game. Boxscore

Bridges was one of six pitchers who made their big-league debuts with the 1959 Cardinals and started games for them. The others: Gary Blaylock, Ernie Broglio, Bob Gibson, Tom Hughes and Dick Ricketts.

(In recalling the 1959 season in his book “Stranger to the Game,” Gibson said Solly Hemus “kept calling me Bridges, confusing me with Marshall Bridges, who was several years older than me, skinnier and pitched left-handed. But he was black. Solly got that much right.”)

Used primarily as a reliever the rest of the season, Bridges was 6-3 with a save in 27 appearances for the 1959 Cardinals, striking out 76 in 76 innings.

With the 1960 Cardinals, Bridges was 2-2 with a save and a 3.45 ERA in 20 games, but he landed in Hemus’ doghouse. “Hemus complained that Bridges’ performance was erratic,” the Globe-Democrat reported.

Bridges told Joe Trimble of the New York Daily News, “The manager (Hemus) decided I wasn’t good enough to be a starter or thought he had better men. Anyway, I was put in the bullpen. I told him I wanted to start.”

Selected off waivers by the Reds on Aug. 2, 1960, Bridges was 4-0 with two saves (including one against St. Louis) and a 1.07 ERA for Cincinnati that season.

That’s all, folks

Bridges was popular with teammates because of his infectious humor and entertaining tall tales. As catcher Elston Howard told the Jersey Journal, “He’ll try to get you to believe everything. We talk about table tennis, he says he was the national champion. Talk about fishing, you can bet he caught a 300-pounder.”

Many of his yarns were about rabbit hunting. He told Newsday he saw a rabbit run so fast that it turned blue. In the bullpen one night, Bridges said to pitcher Jim Brosnan, “One time I borrowed an old shotgun. It’s a mess. Wires held it together. So I spy a rabbit. The rabbit sees me. He stops. I shoot. Bam! The barrel goes one way. The handle goes the other way. But the rabbit drops. So I walk over, pick him up. Not a mark on him. Now believe me, that rabbit had a heart attack!”

Though Bridges’ nickname remained Sheriff, Brosnan called him Fox apparently because of Bridges’ boasts about his popularity with so-called foxy ladies. In his book “Pennant Race,” Brosnan quotes Bridges telling teammates, “So I says to this cute lil ol’ fox _ this is before I was married, you understand _ I says, ‘Honey, let’s me and you make a little happiness.’ She just smiles.”

With the 1961 Reds, Bridges entered a game against the Cardinals with Cincinnati ahead, 3-2, in the eighth. Stan Musial walked and Ray Sadecki ran for him. Daryl Spencer walked, moving Sadecki to second. Then Sadecki was picked off. Joe Cunningham lined a hanging curve to center, but Vada Pinson caught it and doubled Spencer off first to retire the side. According to Brosnan, Bridges strolled into the dugout and said, “When you’re wild, you got to use them trick plays.” Boxscore

Reds manager Fred Hutchinson wasn’t amused. He wasn’t laughing either when Bridges’ ERA ballooned to 7.84.

The Reds demoted him to Jersey City in June. After the Reds won the National League pennant, they brought Bridges back to pitch batting practice during the 1961 World Series against the Yankees.

Pride of the Yankees

Yankees scouts had seen Bridges strike out 15 for Jersey City in a game against their Richmond farm team and figured he might help them.

On Dec. 14, 1961, the Yankees traded catcher Jesse Gonder to the Reds for Bridges. It was a brilliant move. The Yankees’ closer, another former Cardinals left-hander, Luis Arroyo, developed an arm ailment in 1962 and Bridges replaced him. Bridges, 31, was 8-4 with 18 saves for the 1962 Yankees, who won the American League pennant.

Danger zone

On Feb. 13, 1963, Bridges participated in a Yankees spring training workout. That evening he went to the Elks Lodge and took a seat at the bar. Another customer, Carrie Lee Raysor, 21, arrived and sat next to Bridges.

Raysor said Bridges asked several times whether he could take her home. She said she told him no several times, United Press International reported.

According to the Fort Lauderdale News, Raysor told police Bridges “put his arm around me and pulled me over, and I didn’t like this kind of mugging.”

Bartender Cora Davis told police Bridges “was trying to kiss the woman.”

Bridges, married with three children, said to the Jackson Clarion-Ledger, “I’ve been a happily married man for 11 years and I don’t have any girlfriends. I just went into this place to eat and I started talking to this woman … Suddenly, for no reason at all, she pulled a gun and shot me.”

The bullet, fired from a .25-caliber automatic revolver, entered Bridges’ left leg just below the knee and remained lodged in his calf, the New York Times reported.

Another bar patron, Erskine Hepburn, said to the Associated Press, “I heard a shot, looked around and saw Bridges fall to the floor. I helped him to my car and drove him to the hospital.”

Examination at Broward General Hospital disclosed a fractured fibula and torn muscle. The bullet burrowed deep and it was decided to leave the slug in his leg.

Raysor, a Fort Lauderdale resident, was taken to the city jail and charged with aggravated assault.

The next day, Bridges’ wife came to Fort Lauderdale. As George Vecsey of Newsday noted, “Being shot was hardly the worst part of Bridges’ experience. The lowest time of all was having to explain the incident to his wife.”

Hard times

After recuperating at home, Bridges returned to the Yankees in late March 1963. According to Newsday, when he entered the clubhouse, Mickey Mantle burst out of a side room, carrying a toy pistol. “Bang, bang, bang,” Mantle shouted. “It scared the stuffing out of me,” Bridges told George Vecsey.

Bridges pitched in 23 games for the 1963 Yankees and was 2-0 with a save. After the season he told the Jackson Clarion-Ledger, “The leg bothered me up until about a month ago. That’s the one I push off the rubber with.”

Though Bridges had been reluctant to press charges against Carrie Lee Raysor, prosecutors were insistent she stand trial. After several delays, all charges against Raysor were dropped in May 1964 when Bridges didn’t appear in court to testify. An assistant county solicitor determined that without Bridges’ testimony the state couldn’t prosecute, the Fort Lauderdale News reported.

The Yankees sold Bridges’ contract to the Washington Senators and he pitched his last big-league game for them in 1965.

Life after baseball was difficult for Bridges. A business venture went bad. His wife left him. He tried carpentry, but a power saw sliced off the little, ring and middle fingers of his left hand. “Only three stumps remained on what had been his pitching hand,” Butch John reported in the Jackson newspaper.

He thought drinking could solve his problems. “I’d go get two or three fifths a day and lock myself in the house,” Bridges told the Clarion-Ledger.

Ralph Houk, Bridges’ manager with the Yankees, asked the club to invite Bridges to the annual Old-Timers’ Day at Yankee Stadium. According to the Jackson newspaper, when Dizzy Dean, the former Cardinals ace, heard about it, he contributed money for a suit of clothes for Bridges to wear at the event.

Willie McCovey was frustrated. What’s with these pitchers and managers, he wondered? Why don’t they throw him strikes? What’s with those defensive shifts?

It was early in the 1970 season. McCovey was perhaps the most feared hitter in the National League. He won the 1969 NL Most Valuable Player Award. Led the league in home runs and RBI. Now pitchers preferred to walk him instead of challenge him, and fielders filled the right side of the diamond when the Giants’ left-handed slugger came to the plate.

McCovey was pressing, swinging at slop and trying too hard to slam the ball past the gimmicky alignments. His batting mark sunk below .200. He’d had enough.

On May 3, 1970, McCovey settled into the batter’s box in the first inning at Candlestick Park and saw a phalanx of Phillies fielders bunched on the right side, like mussels clustered on a rock in San Francisco Bay.

He looked to the left and saw only an umpire.

McCovey chose to do something that was as abnormal to him as rooting for the Dodgers. He bunted _ and got a double.

Power supply

From the moment he came to the majors and got four hits, including two triples, in his debut game against future Hall of Famer Robin Roberts, McCovey’s swing sent shivers through the National League.

In 22 big-league seasons, McCovey totaled 521 home runs and 1,555 RBI. He belted 41 homers against the Cardinals, including a 1966 clout some consider to be the longest ever hit at Busch Memorial Stadium. Even at age 41, in 1979, he was a force, blasting a walkoff homer to beat St. Louis.

McCovey hit .301 (with three homers) against Steve Carlton, .290 (seven homers) versus Bob Gibson and tormented Don Drysdale (.336 with 12 homers). “He’d climb out of a hospital bed just to bat against me,” Drysdale said, according to the St. Louis Post-Dispatch.

Stretch, as McCovey was called, reached his peak in 1969 when he led the league in homers (45), RBI (126), on-base percentage (.453) and slugging (.656). McCovey also hit .320, scored 101 runs and struck out a mere 66 times.

That was the first of four consecutive seasons McCovey received the most intentional walks in the league. The 45 intentional passes he got in 1969 were 26 more than the runner-up, Hank Aaron, with 19.

In addition, teams tried defensive shifts in a bid to cut down his extra-base hits to the outfield and singles through the infield.

At San Francisco in June 1969, Reds manager Dave Bristol utilized a four-man outfield against McCovey. Shortstop Darrel Chaney moved to straightaway center, center fielder Pete Rose shifted to right-center and right fielder Bobby Tolan played along the line. Third baseman Tony Perez joined second baseman Tommy Helms and first baseman Lee May on the right side of the infield. Only left fielder Alex Johnson remained on the left side of the field.

(In 1954, another Reds manager, Birdie Tebbetts, also used four outfielders with Stan Musial at the plate for St. Louis.)

Double trouble

After his MVP season “most of the league’s managers rearranged their defenses for McCovey” in 1970, the San Francisco Examiner reported.

McCovey batted .192 in April 1970 but his on-base percentage for the month was .404. He had 26 walks (eight intentional) with 14 hits (eight for extra bases).

“Pitchers just refuse to give me anything much to hit,” McCovey told The Sporting News. “Then sometimes I get overanxious and swing at bad pitches.”

In the opener of a Sunday doubleheader at home on May 3, McCovey went hitless, dropping his season batting mark to .193, and then received his 1969 MVP award in an on-field ceremony between games.

The Phillies went into a shift when McCovey came to the plate in the first inning of Game 2. Willie Mays, three days away from turning 39, was the runner on first, with one out. Pitching for the Phillies was left-hander Woodie Fryman, who, shift or no shift, was tough on McCovey. (For his career, McCovey hit .190 with no homers and 14 strikeouts versus Fryman.)

Third baseman Don Money had moved to the right side of the infield. McCovey bunted a Fryman pitch down the third-base line. When the ball hit the artificial turf, which was installed at Candlestick Park that spring, it picked up speed and skimmed past the bag and down the line in left field.

Willie Mays, hurtling around the bases like a runaway trolley car, scored easily, and by the time left fielder Tony Taylor got to the ball, McCovey had a double, laughing as he cruised into second.

In 2018, recalling the play to his listeners, Giants broadcaster Jon Miller said, “To this day it was the most outstanding thing I’ve ever seen in a baseball game.”

Rattled, Woodie Fryman gave up a home run and a triple to the next two batters, Ken Henderson and Al Gallagher, and was removed from the game.

“I’m not going to do it as a regular thing,” McCovey said of his bunt to Jim McGee of the San Francisco Examiner. “If I kept bunting like that, they’d make me a leadoff man. Can you imagine me being the next Matty Alou?” Boxscore

Mac is back

Energized, McCovey returned to his MVP form. On May 10, 1970, he drove in six runs against the Mets with a two-run homer off Nolan Ryan and a grand slam, the 12th of his career, versus Tug McGraw. Boxscore

McCovey had 26 RBI in 20 games in May; 10 homers and 28 RBI in August.

In a Sept. 7 game at San Francisco, Reds manager Sparky Anderson tried a shift with six outfielders against McCovey. Shortstop Dave Concepcion and second baseman Tommy Helms were stationed in short right field. Left fielder Bernie Carbo joined Pete Rose in deep right. Tony Perez moved from third base to left field and Bobby Tolan was in center.

McCovey could have bunted for an easy hit. Instead, he clobbered a Jim Maloney pitch over the fence in right for a shift-shattering home run. As McCovey trotted around second, he waved to Perez. “I was waving for him to come in … He didn’t have any reason for being out there any more,” McCovey told the San Francisco Examiner. Boxscore

After the frustrating first month, McCovey ended up with a 1970 season that was similar to his MVP year of 1969. He had a career-high 137 walks but also produced 39 homers and 126 RBI (same as 1969). His on-base (.444) and slugging percentages (.612) were stellar, too.

“I realize I could get more hits if I’d bunt against some of those shifts,” McCovey said to The Sporting News. “You can see that a lot of them would like me to, but that’s not normally my job.”