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It was challenging enough for the St. Louis football Cardinals to cover receiver Lance Rentzel when quarterbacks the likes of Don Meredith and Roger Staubach threw to him. Then halfbacks started heaving passes and more bedlam ensued.

On Thanksgiving Day in 1967, when the Cardinals faced the Cowboys at the Cotton Bowl, Dallas’ big-play receiving duo of Rentzel and Bob Hayes shredded the defense. Hayes had four catches for 110 yards and two touchdowns. (He also returned a punt 69 yards for a score.) Rentzel had five catches for 145 yards and two touchdowns.

The play that broke the game open was a 74-yard touchdown pass from halfback Dan Reeves to a wide-open Rentzel in the third quarter. As Rentzel recalled to the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, “I said to myself, ‘If you drop this one, keep going.’ I would have, too. Right up the stairs, through the stands and far away.”

Dallas rolled to a 46-21 victory. Video and Stats

(St. Louis wasn’t alone in being fooled by Dallas’ halfback option play. A month later, on Dec. 31, 1967, in the NFL championship game at Green Bay, Reeves completed a 50-yard touchdown toss to Rentzel. Video and Stats)

By 1969, a knee ailment limited Reeves’ availability, but the halfback option remained prominent in the Dallas playbook. In the season opener, two rookies, quarterback Roger Staubach and halfback Calvin Hill, made their NFL debuts against the Cardinals at Dallas. Rentzel caught touchdown throws from both.

In the first quarter, Rentzel beat cornerback Lonnie Sanders and connected with Staubach on a 75-yard touchdown reception.

Clinging to a 7-3 lead late in the third quarter, the Cowboys called for Hill to throw. As a Yale senior, the former high school quarterback threw the halfback option pass for four touchdowns.

“It should have come as no surprise to the Cardinals that (Hill) could throw, but it did,” Robert Morrison of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch noted.

Rentzel got behind safety Larry Wilson and Hill found him for a 53-yard touchdown. “How’d you like that spiral?” Hill said to the San Antonio Light. “It usually doesn’t do that in practice.”

Dallas won, 24-3, prompting Cardinals head coach Charley Winner to moan to the Star-Telegram, “They caught our guys with their pants down.” Video and Stats

Unfortunately for Rentzel, getting caught with his pants down became a more serious matter.

Golden boy

Thomas Lance Rentzel was raised in Oklahoma City. His father, Delos Rentzel, served as chairman of the Civil Aeronautics Board and Undersecretary of Transportation when Harry Truman was president. In 1948, Delos Rentzel ordered an end to segregation at Washington’s National Airport, where blacks were barred from the restaurant and coffee shop, the New York Times reported.

Lance Rentzel excelled in academics, athletics and music. He was an accomplished pianist. Accepted to Ivy League schools, Rentzel instead chose the University of Oklahoma because he wanted to play football for head coach Bud Wilkinson.

The experience was eye-opening.

In his book “When All the Laughter Died in Sorrow,” Rentzel described an Oklahoma practice session: “I saw two players lose every bit of salt in their bodies and cramp up into coils of agony. They were rushed to the hospital. I saw another guy go crazy. He’d been knocked out and had been revived with smelling salts. When they stood him up on his feet, he went for Coach Wilkinson and began cursing him, then actually attacked him with his fists. The practice went on and on as though none of this were taking place … The regimen made us think we were prisoners on Devil’s Island. The pressure was tremendous.”

Rentzel found time for fun, though. As a sophomore in 1962, he wasn’t on the football travel squad. On the day before Oklahoma played Texas at the Cotton Bowl, Rentzel hitchhiked with friends to Dallas. “I didn’t want to miss the parties,” he recalled to William Gildea of the Washington Post.

At the game the next day, he was told he could suit up and watch from the sidelines. What he saw was Texas stuff Oklahoma’s running attack. Determined to spread the Texas defense, Wilkinson looked for a pass-catching threat. To Rentzel’s surprise, the coach sent him onto the field. Rentzel caught two consecutive passes _ the first for 38 yards and the next for 34 yards and Oklahoma’s only touchdown.

Troubling time

The Minnesota Vikings took Rentzel in the second round of the 1965 NFL draft. After trying Rentzel at running back early in training camp, Vikings head coach Norm Van Brocklin made him a receiver and also used him to return kickoffs. The rookie returned a kickoff 101 yards for a touchdown against the Baltimore Colts.

The Vikings had high hopes for Rentzel, but then came some disturbing behavior.

During Rentzel’s second NFL season in 1966, he was charged with having exposed himself to children on three occasions in St. Paul’s Highland Park area, the Minneapolis Star-Tribune reported. On Oct. 4, Rentzel, 22, pleaded guilty in St. Paul municipal court to a reduced charge of disorderly conduct, a misdemeanor, with no jail time. Judge James Lynch ordered psychiatric care.

Change of scene

The Vikings traded Rentzel to the Cowboys for a third-round draft choice. No one mentioned the St. Paul trouble. Instead, Rentzel cultivated an image of a glib, charming playboy. He was the Cowboys’ self-described “social chairman.” As the Post-Dispatch noted, “Disciplinary fines became so routine that Rentzel gave coaches $500 at the start of a season to apply to future fines.”

According to the Star-Telegram, a rookie receiver, Dennis Homan, said, “When I came to camp, I asked which receiver’s moves I should watch and they told me Rentzel. I watched his moves for three days and three nights. The days were OK, but the nights like to have killed me.”

Rentzel’s nightlife seemed all right with Cowboys management as long as he was catching passes and scoring touchdowns. As general manager Tex Schramm said to the Star-Telegram, “He’s young, single and good looking. What do you expect? There’s a difference between a guy going out and having fun, and one that goes out and has fights and is in trouble.”

In 1967, Rentzel was the team leader in receptions (58). The next year, ex-Colt Raymond Berry joined the Cowboys as receivers coach and sharpened Rentzel’s pass routes. Rentzel thrived, leading Dallas in receptions (54), receiving yards (1,009) and yards per catch (18.7), but his football feats took a backseat to his man-about-town persona. As Fort Worth writer Frank Luska put it, “Rentzel was stuck with the reputation that he’d rather chase a skirt than a football, that he’d rather make a pass than catch one.”

Living large

In May 1968, Rentzel met actress Joey Heatherton in Los Angeles during rehearsals for her summer TV show on NBC. Following a whirlwind courtship, they married on April 12, 1969, at St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York City. Ushers in the wedding party included three of Rentzel’s football teammates _ Don Meredith, Craig Morton and Ralph Neely.

The year was gratifying for Rentzel on the football field, too. In 1969, he led the NFL in touchdown receptions (12) and yards per catch (22.3).

Then his demons reappeared.

Repeat offender

On Nov. 30, 1970, Rentzel was arrested on a charge of having exposed himself to a 10-year-old girl in Dallas. He pleaded guilty to indecent exposure and was sentenced to five years probation and mandatory psychiatric care. Judge John Mead could have sent Rentzel to prison but took into consideration no prior felony conviction. “I plan to work with my doctor until the problem is resolved,” Rentzel said to the Associated Press. “I promise that.”

In the book “When All the Laughter Died in Sorrow,” a psychiatrist described Rentzel’s behavior as “less an affliction than it is an impairment of maturation in a rather small area of personality.”

A month after his sentencing, Rentzel was traded to the Los Angeles Rams for Billy Truax and Wendell Tucker. That same day, the Cowboys dealt Pettis Norman, Tony Liscio and Ron East to the San Diego Chargers for Rentzel’s replacement, receiver Lance Alworth.

Joey Heatherton filed for divorce in September 1971 and it became final in 1972.

Life after football

After his second season with the Rams, Rentzel was arrested in a Los Angeles police raid and charged with possession of marijuana. He pleaded guilty and was suspended “for conduct detrimental to the NFL.”

Rentzel sat out the 1973 season, got reinstated in May 1974 and played a final season with the Rams that year.

“I had to realize that you can learn by mistakes,” Rentzel said to the Minneapolis Star-Tribune. “I had to realize that no matter what happens to you or me or anyone else, the sun has a good track record for rising again tomorrow.”

Rentzel, who graduated from Oklahoma in 1965 with a degree in mathematics and an interest in computer science, relocated to the Washington, D.C. area, remarried and worked for a computer company before becoming a government contractor in technology. He was 82 when he died on June 7, 2026.

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Late in life, Lefty Grove would look back at 1931, the year he won 31 games, including 16 in a row, and two more in the World Series, and what he would remember most was a loss.

The sting of that defeat, at St. Louis against the Browns, never left Lefty. In losing 1-0 at Sportsman’s Park, the run scoring when a reserve outfielder misplayed a fly ball, Grove was deprived of setting an American League record for consecutive wins in a season.

A loss always put Grove in a foul mood and usually prompted a temper tantrum, but that one in St. Louis set off “the greatest of his towering rages,” Arthur Daley of the New York Times wrote.

Grove went berserk, smashing up the locker room.

“I wanted the record but I also wanted the victory,” Grove said to The Sporting News. “I just couldn’t stand to lose.”

Smoke signals

Robert Moses Grove was one of eight children from a miner’s family in Lonaconing, an iron and coal town in western Maryland. At 16, he worked in a mine for two weeks, filling in for a brother. Afterward, Grove told his father he never wanted to go underground again, according to the Baltimore Sun.

Grove instead worked as an apprentice glass blower and also got a job in a railroad shop. He played baseball for a town team and turned pro when he was 20. The 6-foot-3 left-hander overpowered batters for five seasons in the minors, mostly with Baltimore of the International League, before his contract was sold to the Philadelphia Athletics for $100,600.

Grove’s Baltimore roommate, pitcher Tommy Thomas, said to the Boston Globe, “He was so fast that even his low fastballs would rise.”

The nickname, “Lefty,” came naturally, but his A’s teammates usually called him “Mose,” and manager Connie Mack called him “Robert,” though he often mispronounced the last name “Groves.”

Lefty loved to smoke black cigars “the size of fungo sticks,” humorist and writer Will Rogers observed. The mail-order stogies were “made out of oolong weeds (Chinese tea leaves) and a wrapper of oak leaves dipped in tar,” Rogers said. According to Victor O. Jones of the Boston Globe, Grove “was a chain smoker, lighting one cigar from the butt of the other.”

Those dark cigars often reflected his mood. As United Press International noted, Grove had a “smoking fastball, with temper to match.” After a loss, he’d stomp off the field, kick a water bucket, snap at teammates. “Nobody hated to lose more than Lefty Grove,” Red Sox outfielder Dom DiMaggio recalled to the Globe.

A friend, journalist J. Suter Kegg of the Cumberland Evening Times in Maryland, wrote, “The man was unbearable to be around when he lost and even preferred to be alone when he won.”

Grove won a lot. His only losing season during 17 years in the majors was as a rookie in 1925. His career mark of 300-141 gave Grove a .680 winning percentage, still the highest of any of baseball’s 300-game winners.

In a six-year span (1928-33), Grove won 79 percent of his decisions (152-40).

Detroit’s Charlie Gehringer, a left-handed batter who hit .320 but 50 points less against Grove, told author Donald Honig, “It’s hard to believe anyone could throw harder than Lefty Grove … I always could pull Bob Feller but I could never pull Grove until the tail end of his career. I’d go up there telling myself I was going to swing the minute he’d let it go. I’d still hit a ground ball to the third baseman.”

Grove’s best season was 1931. After beating Chicago on Aug. 19 for his 16th consecutive win, Grove was 25-2. He tied Walter Johnson (1912 Senators) and Smoky Joe Wood (1912 Red Sox) for most American League wins in a row.

Grove aimed to break the AL mark and take another step toward the big-league record of 19 in a row (held by Rube Marquard of the 1912 National League Giants) when he faced the St. Louis Browns on Aug. 23.

Blinded by the light

As Arthur Daley noted, “It had seemed a lead-pipe cinch” for Grove to get a 17th consecutive win. The A’s were 84-32; the Browns, 49-68.

Connie Mack chose Grove to start the opener of a Sunday doubleheader at St. Louis. A crowd of 22,000, the Browns’ largest of the season at home, came out to see Grove try for the American League record.

Grove cruised through the first two innings and struck out the first two batters in the third. Then Fred Schulte singled to center and Oscar Melillo, a .300 hitter that season, came to the plate.

Melillo lined the ball to left. Jimmy Moore, filling in for regular left fielder Al Simmons, who was home in Milwaukee receiving treatment for an ankle ailment, peered into the sun as he tried to track the ball. “All the players had difficulty judging balls raised against a cloudless sky and in front of a brilliant sun,” the St. Louis Globe-Democrat noted.

Moore recalled to Harold Kaese of the Boston Globe, “If I’d have stood still, I’d have caught it. If I’d been sitting in a chair, I’d have caught it, but … I moved in two steps. The ball was hit harder than I thought.”

Moore turned around and reached for the ball _ “It just nipped off the end of my glove,” he told the Globe _ but it soared over his head. Melillo was credited with a double, though it was clear to most that Moore had misplayed the ball.

Fred Schulte raced from first to home and slid safely into the plate ahead of the relay throw from shortstop Dib Williams. “Grove slapped his leg in disgust,” the Philadelphia Inquirer reported.

“I should have tackled that St. Louis runner (Schulte) rounding third and nailed his butt to the bag,” Grove told John Flynn of the Inquirer.

That was the only run of the game. St. Louis starter Dick Coffman, who’d lost nine of his first 11 decisions that season, shut out the mighty A’s on three hits, all singles. “That made Grove as mad as anything,” Moore said to the Globe. Boxscore

Raging bull

In Grove’s view, his pitching was worthy of a 17th consecutive win. The Browns don’t score if Moore makes the catch. Even still, he wins if the A’s score twice against an ordinary pitcher. The perceived injustice of it all brought Grove’s anger to a dangerous boil.

The losing pitcher stormed into the locker room, picked up a chair “and smashed it to smithereens,” Arthur Daley reported. “Then he attempted to take the room apart, locker by locker.”

According to the Inquirer, “He shattered lockers, tried to tear doors off hinges, and tore off his uniform and jumped up and down on it.”

The Sporting News reported, “He tore out lockers and smashed benches against the wall. While his silent teammates watched, Grove proceeded to tear up his uniform and glove, rip his shoes and demolish everything in sight.”

In the book “Baseball When The Grass Was Real,” Grove told Donald Honig he “wrecked the place. Tore those steel lockers off the wall and everything else. Ripped my uniform up. Threw everything I could get my hands on _ bats, balls, shoes, gloves, water bucket; whatever was handy.”

A’s center fielder Doc Cramer told Honig that Grove tore his jersey so angrily that the buttons whizzed by him, three lockers away.

According to Arthur Daley, Grove roared, “(Al) Simmons could have caught that ball in his back pocket. What did he have to go to Milwaukee for?”

When Jimmy Moore entered the locker room, Grove “was in the showers, raising hell about (Al) Simmons,” Moore recalled to Harold Kaese. “He was mad (Simmons) wasn’t there … Grove didn’t say anything to me. I didn’t say anything to him. I was just a $7,000 player. He was getting $35,000.”

Adding insult to Grove’s ire, the A’s won Game 2 of the doubleheader, 10-0, belting 17 hits against three Browns pitchers in support of Waite Hoyt. Boxscore

Topping 30

Grove won his next six decisions. Moore scored the winning run in two of those games, including win No. 30. Boxscore and Boxscore

Grove finished the season with a 31-4 record. Only one pitcher, Denny McLain with the 1968 Tigers, has matched that win total since. Moore told Harold Kaese, “Except for me, Grove’s record would have been 32-3, not 31-4.”

The left-hander was 4-1 with an 0.92 ERA versus the 1931 Browns. His career record against the Browns was 42-17.

In the 1931 World Series, Grove was 2-1 against the Cardinals, who prevailed in seven games. Grove won Games 1 and 6. Burleigh Grimes beat George Earnshaw in Game 7.

Grove is the only pitcher with four World Series wins against the Cardinals _ two in 1930 and two in 1931.

Just win, baby

Schoolboy Rowe of the 1934 Tigers won 16 in a row, tying the American League record of Grove, Johnson and Wood.

After his pitching days, Grove operated “Lefty’s Place,” a combination bowling alley and pool room in Lonaconing. When not at work, he liked to hang out at the Republican Club next door.

According to local journalist J. Suter Kegg, “He often left orders with bartenders at the Lonaconing Republican Club to tell out-of-town writers who tried to contact him by telephone that he wasn’t there.”

Recalling the first time he was sent with a photographer to interview Grove, Kegg said, “I was shaking in my shoes and my voice may even have been quivering (but) to my delightful surprise the great portsider was extremely cordial. He broke out a bottle of Canadian whiskey and asked us to join him in a drink.”

In 1972, when Steve Carlton won 15 in a row for the last-place Phillies, Grove said to the Philadelphia Inquirer, “God, that ain’t bad. He’s the franchise.”

For Grove, nothing topped getting a win. As he told James H. Bready of the Baltimore Sun, “The best of it all was the feeling in you after the game went right and you came back in the locker room and got undressed. I used to take my shower and swallow an ounce of whiskey slow and get a rubdown and I’d go off to sleep right there on the table. It was very damn good.”

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Reggie Smith was a proud, obstinate ballplayer. Gussie Busch was a proud, obstinate team owner. The combination made for a combustible mix.

With the Cardinals in 1976, Smith opted to play without a signed contract because Busch wouldn’t agree to defer part of Smith’s salary. If Smith stayed unsigned, he could play out his option and become a free agent after the season.

Busch, an imperious meddler, would not tolerate what he perceived as defiance. “Get rid of him,” Busch barked to general manager Bing Devine, Smith told the Los Angeles Times.

On June 15, 1976, in a trade they would come to regret, the Cardinals sent Smith, their all-star switch-hitting right fielder, to the Dodgers for catcher Joe Ferguson and prospects Bob Detherage and Freddie Tisdale.

They are the egg men

Carl Reginald Smith was one of eight children raised in a family in Los Angeles County near Compton. His father had an egg delivery service and young Reggie helped him on the truck during weekends.

Smith became a high school baseball and football standout. A quarterback and defensive back, “I felt football was my best sport,” he told the Los Angeles Times.

Baseball, though, provided the best chance for him to earn money and help the family. Big-league clubs showed interest in the shortstop. In 1963, the Houston Colt .45s brought Smith to Dodger Stadium to work out before a game. “I was throwing as hard as possible on the sidelines when one throw got away from me,” Smith recalled to the Los Angeles Times. “Sandy Koufax was hitting fungoes to the outfielders and my throw missed his head by less than three inches. I still break into a cold sweat when I think about it.”

The Twins ended up being the club that signed Smith, 18, in June 1963 and assigned him to Wytheville (Va.) of the Appalachian League. The woman who ran the boarding house for blacks in the segregated town “told me to never go out alone,” Smith recalled to the Times. “I hit a white kid who called me a nigger. I yelled back to people in the stands … I’m lucky I’m not hanging from some tree.”

Smith played shortstop for Wytheville, made 41 errors in 65 games and had more strikeouts (69) than hits (65). The Twins made him available in the minor-league draft and the Red Sox took him. Four years later, Smith began the 1967 season as the Red Sox’s Opening Day second baseman and finished it as their center fielder in the World Series against the Cardinals.

Booed in Boston

Smith won a Gold Glove Award in 1968 and led the American League in doubles. He was tops in the league in total bases and extra-base hits in 1971.

He had one of the best arms in baseball, but his knees ached. The Red Sox wanted to trade Smith for pitching. They offered him to the Cubs for Ferguson Jenkins at the 1972 winter meetings, but the deal fell apart, the Boston Globe reported. Smith then was headed to the Dodgers for Bill Singer, but the Red Sox backed out at the last minute, general manager Al Campanis told the Times.

So Smith was back in Boston in 1973. He produced a .303 batting average, .398 on-base percentage and slugged at a .515 clip, but it was a miserable season for Smith. He confronted teammate Bill “Spaceman” Lee during a game in Milwaukee and called him gutless for not brushing back Brewers batters. Lee challenged him to a fight. Smith had the Spaceman seeing stars. The pitcher was knocked out cold. “He had it coming,” Smith told Frank Dolson of the Philadelphia Inquirer.

In a game at Boston, fans booed Smith when he didn’t run to first on a grounder. They booed him again when a shallow fly fell in front of him for a single. Smith mockingly doffed his cap on the way to the dugout, marched into the clubhouse, changed and went home while the game continued.

“My anger is like a balloon,” Smith told the Los Angeles Times. “Blow it up, let it go all over the place, then it lies on the floor, exhausted.”

The Red Sox put him on the trading block after the season. The Dodgers wanted him, but when the Red Sox demanded either Don Sutton or Andy Messersmith in return “that stopped that,” Al Campanis told The Sporting News.

The Cardinals won the prize, obtaining Smith and Ken Tatum for Rick Wise and Bernie Carbo on Oct. 26, 1973.

A Spike in spikes

Smith was a National League all-star in each of his first two seasons with St. Louis. He led the club in total bases in 1974, and his on-base percentage (.389) and slugging mark (.528) were tops among the regulars. Though sidelined for three weeks of the 1975 season because of back ailments, Smith was the Cardinals’ home run leader (with 19), and again produced quality on-base (.382) and slugging (.488) percentages.

Cardinals players appreciated him in those years. “He gives 100 percent all the time,” second baseman Ted Sizemore told the Los Angeles Times. “He’ll do anything to win.” In the book “The Spirit of St. Louis,” pitcher Rich Folkers said, “Reggie Smith was a good guy … When Reggie was in the lineup, he did real well.”

Bob Gibson saw Smith as a soulmate. In his book “Stranger to the Game,” Gibson said, “My affinity for Reggie Smith was a natural because we were very much alike, both of us maintaining an exterior toughness that really wasn’t what we were about. Smith was a very bright, thoughtful guy who was ready to fight if somebody looked at him wrong. I called him Spike because he reminded me of those spike-collared bulldogs on Saturday morning cartoons.”

Things go wrong

On the advice of agent Tom Reich, Smith requested the Cardinals defer a portion of his 1976 salary. When Gussie Busch said no, Smith opted to play without a signed contract. That meant the Cardinals would renew his pact basically at 1975 terms, but Smith would qualify to become a free agent after the season. “We had no quarrel with the Cardinals over gross salary,” Reich told the Los Angeles Times. “The difficulty was in working out the draft of the deferred arrangement.”

At 1976 spring training, a trade proposal was discussed: Reggie Smith and Ted Sizemore to the Dodgers for shortstop Bill Russell and outfielder Willie Crawford, Al Campanis confirmed to the Times.

When the Cardinals balked at giving up Smith, the trade became a swap of Sizemore for Crawford on March 2.

The 1976 Cardinals were a bad team. Their record entering the June 15 trade deadline was 25-34. Smith, experiencing pain in his left shoulder, struggled to hit. The injury caused him to alter his batting style. He couldn’t hold his hands as high as he wanted on the bat. Smith batted .174 in April and .219 in May. The bright spot was a three-homer game against the Phillies.

With third baseman Hector Cruz and first baseman Keith Hernandez struggling early in the season, manager Red Schoendienst had Smith fill in at third and first. In his book “I’m Keith Hernandez,” Hernandez recalled, “Reggie was a premier player … but he’d spent the last month, since being moved to the infield, sulking and brooding in the clubhouse. Everywhere he went, a dark cloud followed.”

Gussie Busch was fed up. The team was a mess and he viewed Smith as a problem. Busch assumed Smith wasn’t playing hard because of the contract disagreement. He wanted him gone _ just like he had ordered the trades of others who angered him such as Steve Carlton and Jerry Reuss.

“The Cardinals thought Reggie was jaking it,” Tom Reich said to the Los Angeles Times. “There were some words between Reggie and management. Hell, Reggie was playing in a lot of pain.”

Smith told the newspaper, “The Cardinals accused me of malingering to force a trade. I can’t understand them making that kind of statement. I have too much pride to stoop to that sort of thing.”

On June 15, Bing Devine called Al Campanis and offered him Smith. Campanis knew Devine was being forced to deal and had little leverage. Now, instead of Bill Russell, the Dodgers gave up Joe Ferguson, batting .222.

The deal was completed when the Dodgers agreed to the deferred salary arrangement and Smith agreed to sign a two-year contract for 1976-77. “Smith will receive in excess of $100,000 for each season, with a large portion of it deferred,” the Los Angeles Times reported.

Rot at the top

About a month after the trade, the Dodgers came to St. Louis for three games. Smith hit a home run in each. The pitchers were John Denny (solo shot), Pete Falcone (two-run) and Bob Forsch (three-run). “The pitch I threw to Reggie just straightened out,” Forsch told the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. “I was trying to sink it outside … The last time I saw it, it was sinking over the wall in right.” Boxscore Boxscore Boxscore

Smith batted .476 against the 1976 Cardinals. Five of his 10 hits were home runs. After the season, exploratory surgery by Dr. Frank Jobe showed Smith had been playing with a torn rotator cuff, the Los Angeles Times reported.

Smith went on to produce 41 RBI in 57 career games versus the Cardinals and had a .404 on-base percentage against them.

(Joe Ferguson batted .201 for the 1976 Cardinals and was peddled to Houston for Larry Dierker after the season.)

In a five-year stretch from 1977-81, Smith helped the Dodgers win three National League pennants and a World Series title.

Asked about the Dodgers’ success, Smith told the Post-Dispatch in 1977, “It’s something that comes down right from the top, from the man at the head of the organization to everyone on the club. It’s something every team could have if management wanted it.

“I think the Cardinals might have had it in the past, but I don’t think they have it in the organization anymore, and you have to go right to the top man for the reason it’s not there anymore. I think Mr. Busch soured on his players a few years ago in those contract disputes and it’s still having an effect. He took the hard line, and to him the answer to negotiating a contract was to trade the player if the player also took the hard line.

“As a result, it became every player for himself, and pretty soon you no longer had a team but a bunch of individuals.”

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There are more versions of the story of Grover Cleveland Alexander striking out Tony Lazzeri than there were teams in a Branch Rickey farm system.

First, the undisputed facts:

With the Cardinals ahead, 3-2, in the seventh inning of Game 7 in the 1926 World Series, the Yankees had the bases loaded and Lazzeri at the plate. Cardinals manager Rogers Hornsby called for Alexander to relieve Jesse Haines, who had developed a blister on his pitching hand. Alexander, 39, had pitched a complete game the day before in the Cardinals’ Game 6 victory.

Lazzeri, a rookie, had 18 home runs and 114 RBI that season. Alexander struck him out. Then he shut down the Yankees in the eighth and ninth, earning a save to go with two World Series wins.

Alexander retired the side in the eighth and the first two batters in the ninth. Then Babe Ruth drew a walk, but was thrown out attempting to steal. Boxscore

In winning their first World Series championship, the Cardinals transformed from a perennial also-ran into an elite franchise in the National League.

The two people most qualified to know the full story of Alexander’s Game 7 heroics were catcher Bob O’Farrell and Alexander himself. Alexander gave his account to Francis J. Powers for the book “My Greatest Day in Baseball.” O’Farrell related his version to Lawrence Ritter in “The Glory of Their Times.”

Alexander: “There are stories that I celebrated (after Game 6) and had a hangover when Rogers Hornsby called me from the bullpen to pitch to Lazzeri.  That isn’t the truth.”

O’Farrell: “When he struck out Lazzeri, he’d been out on a drunk the night before and was feeling the effects.”

Alexander: “In the clubhouse after (Game 6), Hornsby came over to me and said, ‘Alex, if you want to celebrate tonight, I wouldn’t blame you, but go easy for I may need you tomorrow.’ I said, ‘OK, Rog’ … Hell, I wanted to win that Series and get the big end of the money as much as anyone.”

O’Farrell: “After the sixth game was over, Rogers Hornsby told Alex that if Jesse Haines got in any trouble the next day he would be the relief man. So he should take care of himself. Well, Alex didn’t really intend to take a drink that night, but some of his friends got hold of him and thought they were doing him a favor by buying him a drink. Well, you weren’t doing Alex any favor by buying him a drink because he just couldn’t stop.”

Alexander: “Early in (Game 7), Hornsby said to me, ‘Alex, go down into the bullpen and keep your eye on (Bill) Sherdel and (Herman) Bell. Keep them warmed up and if I need help I’ll depend on you to tell me which one looks best.”

O’Farrell: “In the seventh inning of the seventh game, Alex is tight asleep in the bullpen, sleeping off the night before … The Yankees get the bases loaded with two outs, and the next batter up is Lazzeri. Hornsby and I gather around Haines at the pitching mound. Jesse’s fingers are a mass of blisters from throwing so many knuckleballs, and so Hornsby decides to call in old Alex, even though we know he’d just pitched the day before and had been up most of the night.”

Alexander: “The bullpen in the Yankee Stadium is under the bleachers and when you’re down there you can’t tell what’s going on out in the field … When the bench wants to get in touch with the bullpen, there’s a telephone. It’s the only real fancy modern bullpen in baseball. Well, I was sitting around down there, not doing much throwing, when the phone rang and an excited voice said, ‘Send in Alexander.’ … I take a few hurried throws and then start for the box.”

O’Farrell: “In he comes, shuffling slowly from the bullpen to the pitching mound.”

Alexander: “When I come out from under the bleachers, I see the bases filled and Lazzeri standing at the box. Tony is up there all alone, with everyone in that Sunday crowd watching him. So I just said to myself, ‘Take your time. Lazzeri isn’t feeling any too good up there and let him stew.’ ”

O’Farrell: “Hornsby asks, ‘Can you do it?’ Alex says, ‘I can try.’ We agree that Alex should pitch Lazzeri low and away, nothing up high.”

Alexander: “I get to the box and Bob O’Farrell, our catcher, comes out to meet me. ‘Let’s start where we left off yesterday,’ Bob said. Yesterday (in Game 6) Lazzeri was up four times against me without getting anything that looked like a hit. He got one off me in the second game of the Series, but with one out of seven I wasn’t much worried about him … I said OK to O’Farrell. We’ll curve him.”

O’Farrell: “The first pitch is a perfect low curve for strike one.”

Alexander: “My first pitch was a curve and Tony missed. Holding the ball in his hand, O’Farrell came out to the box again. ‘Alex,’ he began, ‘this guy will be looking for that curve next time. We curved him all the time yesterday. Let’s give him a fast one.’ I agreed.”

O’Farrell: “The second one comes in high, and Tony smacks a vicious line drive that lands in the left field stands but just foul. Oh, it’s foul by maybe 10 feet.”

Alexander: “I poured one in, right under his chin. There was a crack and I knew the ball was hit hard … I spun around … and all the Yankees on base were on their way, but the drive had a tail-end fade and landed foul by eight to 10 feet in the left field bleachers. I said to myself, ‘No more of that for you, my lad.’ ”

O’Farrell: “So I run out to Alex. ‘I thought we were going to pitch him low and outside?’ Alex says, ‘He’ll never get another one like that.’ ”

Alexander: Bob signed for another curve and I gave him one. Lazzeri swung where that curve started but not where it finished. The ball got a hunk of the corner and then finished outside.”

O’Farrell: “A low outside curve and Tony Lazzeri struck out.”

In the bottom of the ninth, with two outs, Babe Ruth took off from first base on Alexander’s first pitch to Bob Meusel.

Alexander: “I caught the blur of Ruth starting for second as I pitched, and then came the whistle of the ball as O’Farrell rifled it to second. I wheeled around and there was one of the grandest sights of my life. Hornsby, his foot anchored on the bag and his gloved hand outstretched, was waiting for Ruth to come in.”

O’Farrell: “I wondered why Ruth tried to steal. A year or two later I went on a barnstorming trip with the Babe and I asked him. Ruth said he thought Alex had forgotten he was there. Also that the way Alex was pitching they’d never get two hits in a row off him, so he better get in position to score if they got one. Maybe that was good thinking. Maybe not. In any case, I had him out a mile at second.”

 

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A right-handed sinkerball specialist, Frank Linzy pitched for and against the Cardinals. During his prime, as a Giants reliever, some of his most noteworthy achievements came versus St. Louis. He was on the backside of his career when he joined the Cardinals in 1970.

In 11 seasons with the Giants (1963, 1965-70), Cardinals (1970-71), Brewers (1972-73) and Phillies (1974), Linzy totaled 110 saves, 62 wins and a 2.85 ERA. He led the Giants in saves for five years in a row (1965-69). “The first five years were fun,” Linzy told the Tulsa World. “The next five were a struggle.”

Country boy

Linzy was born “out in the bushes” near Fort Gibson, Okla., according to the Tulsa newspaper. His father farmed cotton and soy beans. The family moved to Porter, Okla., when Frank was 5. One of his boyhood friends was Jim Brewer, who, like Linzy, would become a relief pitcher in the majors. “Jim and I played basketball under the street lights by the hour,” Linzy recalled to the Tulsa World.

While in school, Linzy helped his father chop cotton. He also played baseball and basketball, fished for crappie and hunted for quail. Linzy developed into a standout baseball and basketball player at Porter High School. As a senior, he averaged 20 points per game in basketball and posted a 12-2 pitching record.

The Reds offered him a $10,000 bonus, according to Bob Broeg of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, but Linzy instead took a basketball scholarship offer from famed coach Hank Iba at Oklahoma State. He lasted one semester. “I couldn’t make my grades,” Linzy told the Tulsa World. “I never studied before. I took recess more than anything else (in high school) and they didn’t have recess (in college).”

Linzy tried another semester at Northeastern State in Tahlequah, Okla., then returned home. He was playing baseball for a town team when offered a contract (but no signing bonus) from Giants scout Bully McLean, a former minor-league outfielder with the Chickasha Chicks and Henryetta Hens.

The Giants assigned Linzy to a farm club in Salem, Va., in July 1960. He wanted to be an outfielder because his favorite player was Duke Snider, but Salem manager Jodie Phipps, a former Cardinals prospect who totaled 275 wins in 19 seasons as a minor-league pitcher, told Linzy he’d do better on the mound.

As a starting pitcher, Linzy advanced through the Giants’ system. With Springfield (Mass.) in 1963, he was 16-6 with a 1.55 ERA. Impressed, the Giants called him to the majors in August 1963 and he joined them on the road.

“All I had were Levis and just plain old shirts, and I walked into the hotel lobby and there’s all these guys with sport coats on and dress pants,” Linzy recalled to the Tulsa World. “The only time I felt equal was when we were on the baseball field and I had the same kind of clothes on as they did.”

Super sinker

Linzy made his Giants debut in a start against the Reds. (One of just two starts in 516 big-league appearances.) He struck out the first batter he faced, Pete Rose. In his second appearance, against the Cardinals, Linzy came in with the bases loaded, one out, and fanned Bill White, then got Stan Musial to pop out. In Linzy’s third game, he struck out Hank Aaron. Boxscore  Boxscore Boxscore

After another season in the minors, Linzy stuck with the Giants in 1965, beginning his five-year run as their closer.

Linzy threw two pitches _ a heavy sinker and hard slider. “I didn’t have enough pitches,” he said to the Tulsa World. “That’s why I couldn’t have been a starter.”

The sinker was his specialty. Linzy said he gripped the slick part of the ball rather than the seams to make it spin. Catcher Ed Bailey told the San Francisco Examiner, “He’s holding an overlap grip with a back reverse and a flat flipper finger.” Or, as Linzy’s fellow pitcher, Bobby Bolin, put it, “The backspin on the ball, overlapping with the downspin, makes it sink.”

Linzy focused on getting grounders instead of strikeouts. He was durable and effective, but also “I was scared to death,” he told the Post-Dispatch. “… I could throw crooked. That’s about all I can say for what I did.”

Asked to describe the keys to being a reliever, he told the Tulsa newspaper, “You’ve got to have a strong back and a weak mind.”

Linzy earned his first big-league win on May 5, 1965, with two scoreless innings at St. Louis. Two months later, he got his first hit _ a home run into the wind at Candlestick Park versus the Cardinals’ Ray Washburn. “I’m strong enough to hit the ball out,” Linzy told the Examiner. “I just never connect.” Later in the game, he lined a single against Ray Sadecki. Boxscore  Boxscore

Linzy was 3-0 with two saves and a 1.08 ERA versus the 1965 Cardinals. Overall for the season, he won nine and converted 20 of 25 save chances.

The Cardinals were a club Linzy continued to do well against. For his career, he was 5-2 with nine saves and 1.65 ERA versus St. Louis. He never gave up a home to a Cardinals batter. In 1967, when the Cardinals were World Series champions, Linzy pitched 9.2 scoreless innings against them. When the Cardinals repeated as National League champions in 1968, Linzy faced them over 11.1 innings and posted an 0.79 ERA.

Career batting averages against Linzy among players on Cardinals championship clubs included Orlando Cepeda (.105), Ken Boyer (.167), Dick Groat (.143), Julian Javier (.167), Roger Maris (.000), Tim McCarver (.192) and Mike Shannon (.182).

Ups and downs

Linzy bought a 10-acre spread across a gravel road from his father-in-law’s cattle ranch near Coweta, Okla. The pitcher spent winters picking pecans from the trees on his property. Before heading to spring training in 1969, Linzy laid the foundation for his house. Using a blueprint he sketched on cardboard, his in-laws built Linzy and his wife their brick dream house, the Tulsa World reported.

Though he had 14 wins for the 1969 Giants, Linzy converted only 52 percent of his save chances. His sinker too often was staying up in the strike zone. Linzy noticed his right arm lacked the elasticity of his best seasons.

He looked terrible with the 1970 Giants (7.01 ERA in 25.2 innings), but the Cardinals, desperate for quality relievers, decided to take a chance. On May 19, 1970, the Giants sent Linzy to the Cardinals for pitcher Jerry Johnson.

The Cardinals hoped Linzy’s sinker would induce ground ball outs on their new artificial surface, but batters had other ideas. Linzy posted a 4.08 ERA in home games for the 1970 Cardinals. In 47 games overall for them that year, he walked more than he fanned and gave up more hits than innings pitched. Right-handed batters hit .298 against him.

Brought back by the Cardinals in 1971, Linzy rewarded them with a return to form early in the season. In April, he was 1-0 with three saves and a 1.88 ERA. He added two more saves in May, allowing no earned runs for the month.

On June 9, 1971, with his ERA for the season at 2.10, Linzy collided with first baseman Bob Burda as both pursued a ball bunted by the Braves’ Ralph Garr. Linzy suffered multiple fractures of the left cheekbone. Boxscore

The Cardinals swooned in June, with an 8-21 record for the month, and got only one save (from Don Shaw) during the nearly 30 days Linzy was sidelined.

After his return, Linzy pitched in 25 games but didn’t get many save chances. He finished the season with six saves, four wins and a 2.12 ERA. In 23 home games covering 30 innings, his ERA was 1.50. Overall, batters hit .226 against him in 1971, but he allowed 48 percent of inherited runners to score.

Dealt to the Brewers in March 1972 for pitching prospect Richard Stonum, Linzy spent two seasons with Milwaukee (totaling 25 saves) and one with the Phillies.

“I played as hard as I could as long as I could,” Linzy told the Tulsa World. “I didn’t ever quit. They just sent me home.”

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Famous for the Hollywood ending he brought to a World Series, Bill Mazeroski was a natural for a part in a movie.

Seven years after hitting a walkoff home run for the Pirates in the ninth inning of Game 7 in the 1960 World Series against the Yankees’ Ralph Terry, Mazeroski was hired to make an out in the film “The Odd Couple.” Actually, the role required he make three outs _ with one swing.

Two ex-Cardinals, Ken Boyer and Jerry Buchek, had parts, too.

An eight-time National League Gold Glove Award winner at second base during his 17 years (1956-72) with the Pirates, Mazeroski was elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame in 2001. He was 89 when he died on Feb. 20, 2026.

Casting calls

In 1967, filming began for “The Odd Couple,” a comedy about two bachelors sharing a New York apartment. Walter Matthau played a sportswriter slob, Oscar Madison, and Jack Lemmon was the persnickety roommate, Felix Unger.

One scene had Oscar covering a baseball game for his newspaper. At the crucial point of the game, with the score 1-0 and the bases loaded in the bottom of the ninth, a press box phone rings. Sports reporter Heywood Hale Broun, playing himself, answers. The caller asks for Oscar and says it’s an emergency. Oscar reluctantly leaves his seat and takes the receiver. The caller is Felix. He tells Oscar he’s planning to make frankfurters and beans for dinner, so skip the ballpark hot dogs. As Oscar’s back is turned, the batter hits into a rare game-ending triple play. Oscar screams at Felix for causing him to miss the key moment in the game for such a trifling phone message.

The filmmakers arranged for the scene to be shot at New York’s Shea Stadium before the start of a Tuesday afternoon Pirates vs. Mets game on June 27, 1967. Seeking authenticity, they opted to use major-league players for the triple play segment on the field rather than actors. Each player participating received $100, the Screen Actors Guild minimum at the time.

Pirates outfielder Roberto Clemente was offered the role of the batter who hits into the triple play, but he declined. “They will use my name in the movie and exploit me for $100,” Clemente said to The Pittsburgh Press. “Not for me.”

Clemente told the New York Daily News, “They insult me. One hundred dollars. One hundred lousy dollars. That’s what they wanted to pay me? Who do they think they are trying to fool? They think Roberto Clemente was born last week?”

Mazeroski was asked to replace Clemente. “They must have seen me run,” the slow-footed Pirate quipped to the Associated Press.

Pirates base runners for the scene were Donn Clendenon at first, Matty Alou at second and Vern Law at third. (On the advice of his agent, Maury Wills turned down an offer to be a base runner).

A director’s dream

“Director Gene Saks set up three cameras in the back of the press box to shoot down on Matthau and the field,” the New York Times reported. A 75-person crew was given only 35 minutes to complete the shot after cameras were in place.

According to Newsday, as the ballplayers took their positions, Matthau turned to a real sports reporter and said, “I’ll bet a quarter we don’t get it on the first take.” The reporter nodded. Six minutes later, he took Matthau’s money.

On the fifth pitch from Jack Fisher, Mazeroski grounded sharply to third baseman Ken Boyer, who stepped on the bag and threw to Jerry Buchek at second. Buchek whipped the ball to first baseman Ed Kranepool, completing the triple play.

The Mets “had completed in seconds what most film companies require hours, sometimes days, to accomplish: an entire scene,” Newsday noted. Video

On with the show

As soon as the filming stopped, the Mets held a pregame ceremony in which 8,000 Bronx Little Leaguers honored outfielder Ron Swoboda as their favorite player. Then, in the first inning, Swoboda slammed a three-run home run.

The Pirates added a comical touch to the game as well. Gene Alley and Jose Pagan batted out of turn. When Mets manager Wes Westrum informed the umpires of the gaffe, the Pirates defaulted two third-inning runs. The Mets won, 5-2. Boxscore

According to the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, when “The Odd Couple” had its Pittsburgh premiere at a charity benefit in 1968, the gold $5 tickets read: “The Odd Couple, starring Bill Mazeroski and Jack Lemmon.”

As a big-leaguer, Mazeroski never hit into a triple play, but he did help turn two triple plays. Both occurred in games against the Reds. Boxscore and Boxscore

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