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Though the minor leagues were where Gaylen Pitts spent most of his long and accomplished baseball career, he twice reached the majors _ and both times with the help of Dal Maxvill.

Pitts was a player, manager, coach and instructor in the minors, primarily with the Cardinals.

An infielder, he played 13 years in the farm systems of the Cardinals, Athletics and Cubs. He managed in the minors for 19 years for the Cardinals, A’s and Yankees.

Pitts got to the big leagues with the A’s for the first time in 1974 as an infield replacement for Maxvill, who got injured. Then, after the 1990 season, it was Maxvill, the Cardinals’ general manager, who recommended Pitts for the role of bench coach on the staff of manager Joe Torre.

Down on the farm

Pitts moved with his family from Wichita, Kan., to Mountain Home, Ark., when he was a boy. He listened to Cardinals games on the radio, played baseball in high school and caught the attention of scout Fred Hawn, who arranged for a tryout in St. Louis. Pitts was 18 when the Cardinals signed him for $8,000 in 1964. “I bought a car; a good one,” he recalled to the Arkansas Democrat Gazette.

Early in the 1966 season, Pitts was drafted into the Army and served in Vietnam. He returned to baseball in 1968. Two years later, Pitts, a utility infielder candidate, got invited to the Cardinals’ big-league spring training camp for the only time. He didn’t make the club, but he did become pals with the Cardinals’ shortstop, Dal Maxvill, Pitts recalled to the Society for American Baseball Research.

“When I was with the Cardinals, they wanted only veteran players,” Pitts told the Wichita Beacon. “If something went wrong with the big club, they’d go out and trade or buy a veteran. When they started their youth movement, I was traded.”

During the 1971 season, his seventh in the Cardinals’ farm system, Pitts was dealt to the A’s for Dennis Higgins, and sent to Class AAA Iowa, where he took the place of another veteran infielder, Tony La Russa, who got called up to Oakland.

Pitts never hit .300 in the minors. His single-season career highs in home runs (12) and RBI (58) were not robust. His hope for reaching the majors came from his ability to play multiple infield positions (second, short and third).

In May 1974, 10 years after he started out in the minors, Pitts got the call. With A’s second baseman Dick Green and third baseman Sal Bando sidelined because of injuries, Maxvill, their reserve infielder, got hurt. Needing someone who could fill in at multiple spots, the A’s promoted Pitts.

That’s a winner

When Pitts arrived in Oakland, Maxvill’s name was marked above the locker he was given, indicating the club didn’t expect the 27-year-old rookie to be around long. Nonetheless, his teammates “treated me great, from Catfish Hunter to Reggie Jackson,” Pitts recalled to the Memphis Commercial Appeal.

A highlight came on May 14, 1974, at Oakland against the Royals when Pitts drove in both runs with doubles in a 2-1 victory for the A’s.

Facing Lindy McDaniel, the 38-year-old former Cardinal _ “I used to follow him when I was a kid,” Pitts told the Oakland Tribune _ Pitts drove in Angel Mangual from second with a double in the fifth.

With the score tied at 1-1 in the 10th, Ted Kubiak was on first, one out, when Pitts lined a McDaniel slider over the head of left fielder Jim Wohlford. Kubiak slid around catcher Fran Healy to score just ahead of the relay throw and give the A’s a walkoff win.

Ron Bergman of the Oakland Tribune wrote of Pitts’ game-winning double, “He put some cream in his major league cup of coffee.”

Pitts told the newspaper, “I’ll remember this no matter what happens.” Boxscore

A month later, Pitts was back in the minors. He returned to the A’s in September 1975 and got three at-bats, his last as a big leaguer.

Follow the leader

After playing his final season in the minors in 1977, Pitts was named manager of an A’s farm club at Modesto, Calif. On a salary of $8,000, he couldn’t afford a car, so he rode a bicycle back and forth from his residence to the ballpark.

Recalling that first season as manager, Pitts told the Modesto Bee, “They say you learn from your mistakes, and I want to tell you, I did a lot of learning.”

After two years with Modesto, Pitts rejoined the Cardinals and spent 16 seasons managing their farm clubs. In other years with them, he was special assistant for player development, minor league field coordinator and a coach on the staff of Louisville manager Jim Fregosi.

“I’ve picked up a little from every manager I’ve ever played for or worked with,” Pitts told the Louisville Courier-Journal, “but I probably learned the most with Fregosi, not just on the field, but off the field, too.”

(According to the Courier-Journal, in 1990, when Pitts was Louisville manager, the team was waiting in the Denver airport for a flight when he struck up a conversation with a woman. They hit it off and eventually married.)

Among the Cardinals prospects Pitts managed were Rick Ankiel, Allen Craig, Daniel Descalso, J.D. Drew, Bernard Gilkey, Jon Jay, Ray Lankford, Joe McEwing, Adam Ottovino, Placido Polanco and Todd Zeile. Pitts also managed Andy Van Slyke and later Andy’s son, A.J. Van Slyke.

Future big-league managers who were managed by Pitts included Terry Francona, Oliver Marmol and Jim Riggleman.

“I’m really impressed with the job that Gaylen does,” Tony La Russa, the Cardinals’ manager, said to the St. Louis Post-Dispatch in 2000.

In describing Pitts as a manager who stressed fundamentals, Don Wade of the Memphis Commercial Appeal noted, “Pitts was old school before old school was retro. He’s brick foundation old school, not prefab.”

Regarding his managing style, Pitts told the Courier-Journal, “You’ve got to know when to bark and when not to. It’s just mutual respect. There’s a fine line there.”

Pitts briefly left the Cardinals’ organization. In 2003, he was the hitting coach on the staff of manager Cecil Cooper at Indianapolis, a Brewers farm team. Noting that Cooper had 2,192 big-league hits and Pitts had 11, the Post-Dispatch suggested the roles should be reversed. Pitts said with a laugh, “Cecil told me he would help me with the hitting stuff if I would help him with the managing.”

In 2006, Pitts managed a Yankees farm club, Staten Island, to the championship of the New York-Pennsylvania League.

Cardinals candidate

After Cardinals manager Whitey Herzog quit the team in July 1990, general manager Dal Maxvill interviewed seven candidates for the job: Don Baylor, Pat Corrales, Mike Jorgensen, Hal Lanier, Gene Tenace, Joe Torre and Pitts, according to the Post-Dispatch. (Ted Simmons removed himself from consideration.)

Noting that Pitts “has done a good job developing talent for the Cardinals,” columnist Bernie Miklasz wrote that Pitts would be “in over his head” as Cardinals manager because he “doesn’t have any experience working with major league players.” Miklasz suggested Pitts “needs to become a major league coach first to receive the needed exposure.”

Maxvill hired Torre in August 1990. After the season, Torre chose Pitts for his coaching staff on the suggestion of Maxvill, Pitts told researcher Gregory H. Wolf.

Pitts was Torre’s bench coach from 1991-94 and third-base coach in 1995.

When Torre was fired in June 1995 by Maxvill’s replacement, Walt Jocketty, Pitts and fellow coach Chris Chambliss were considered for the role of interim manager, but the job went to the club’s director of player development, Mike Jorgensen.

According to the Post-Dispatch, Jocketty said Pitts and Chambliss “were very qualified to manage, but I wanted to bring in someone who could change the dynamics a little … someone familiar with the situation, yet who was not there on the front line every day.”

Though he never got the chance to manage in the majors, Pitts told the Baxter (Ark.) Bulletin in 2004, “For a country boy from Arkansas who had never been out of Mountain Home much before I got out of high school, I’ve had a great ride.”

By NFL standards, St. Louis Cardinals cornerback Pat Fischer was small. Not jockey size, but not as big as the team’s placekicker, Jim Bakken, who was two inches taller and 30 pounds heavier. Even another noted Fischer, 6-foot-1 chess grandmaster Bobby, towered over Pat.

Listed at 5 feet 9 and 170 pounds _ “Anyone who ever saw him in person knew even those measurements were somewhat exaggerated,” the Washington Post noted _ Fischer shed the blocks of Goliath-like guards and tackles, took down steamrolling fullbacks, and stymied rangy receivers during a 17-year NFL career with the Cardinals (1961-67) and Washington Redskins (1968-77). 

The signature play of Fischer’s NFL tenure came on Sept. 20, 1964, for the Cardinals against the Cleveland Browns. Jim Brown, the punishing fullback who regularly ran over defenders or carried them on his back, took a pitch, swept to the outside and roared into the clear like a bull entering the ring. Fischer, 62 pounds lighter than Brown, came up from his cornerback spot, lowered his shoulder and met the fullback head-on.

Making “a picture-book tackle,” Fischer “actually lifted the running back into the air and tossed him backward,” the St. Louis Post-Dispatch reported.

Joe Pollack of the Post-Dispatch, a longtime NFL observer, called it “the greatest individual play I’ve ever seen,” adding that Brown was “the best back I ever saw,” and Fischer was “maybe the best player, pound for pound, in NFL history.”

Noting that Fischer brought down Brown singlehandedly, the Post-Dispatch offered, “It isn’t often anybody does much singlehandedly against Brown, so the memory of that play will last a long time.”

In that same game, the feisty Fischer was involved in an incident that cost the Browns their halfback, Ernie Green, who was ejected in the second quarter for throwing a punch at Fischer, the Associated Press reported.

“Fischer had grabbed my face guard first and I was just backing up, trying to push him away,” Green told the Dayton Journal Herald, “but the official didn’t see that, just me pushing him off.”

According to the Cincinnati Enquirer, the officials ruled Green struck Fischer after the whistle, prompting the ejection. Game stats

A three-time Pro Bowl selection, Fischer intercepted 56 passes, including four for touchdowns, in his NFL career.

Big man on campus

After high school in Omaha, Fischer, like three of his brothers before him, played football at the University of Nebraska.

In his varsity debut as a sophomore in 1958, Fischer, listed as a 163-pound halfback and cornerback, returned a kickoff 92 yards for a touchdown in Nebraska’s 14-7 upset of Penn State. As a junior in 1959, Fischer ran back a punt 61 yards to the 3-yard line, setting up Nebraska’s winning touchdown against Oklahoma. The 25-21 victory snapped Oklahoma’s 74-game Big Eight Conference win streak.

Fischer became Nebraska’s starting quarterback as a senior in 1960. In the season opener, at Texas, he led the Cornhuskers to a 14-13 upset victory. Fischer returned a punt 76 yards for a touchdown and scored another on a two-yard scamper. As the holder on the extra-point try, Fischer pulled off a fake, firing a pass to Bill “Thunder” Thornton for the winning two-point conversion. (Thornton also was Fischer’s teammate on the Cardinals.) Video

Inhaling oxygen from a hissing tank in the locker room afterward, Fischer told the Lincoln (Neb.) Journal Star, “My head hurts and I’m tired, but I’d play another half if that’s what it took to beat Texas.”

(Like Fischer, two of his 1960 Nebraska teammates had long NFL playing careers. Defensive end Ron “The Dancing Bear” McDole played 18 seasons, including his rookie year with the Cardinals, and center Mick Tingelhoff played 17 years with the Minnesota Vikings and was elected to the Pro Football Hall of Fame.)

Fitting in

Drafted in the 17th round by the Cardinals, the pint-sized Fischer (listed at 166 pounds) arrived at 1961 training camp “and spent his first few practices in shorts and a T-shirt as the team tried to find equipment that would fit him,” according to the Washington Post.

In recalling his first exhibition game with the Cardinals, Fischer told the Post, “My game pants fell down below my knees. I had to tape them up. I had to tape my pads on to make sure they wouldn’t fall off.”

The Cardinals’ coaching staff wasn’t quite sure what to do with him. “Coaches all have a predetermined idea of what a cornerback is supposed to look like,” Fischer said to the Post. “I never did fit the description.”

He made the team, returning punts and kickoffs, and filling in as a backup receiver. In a December 1961 game versus Washington, Fischer returned two kickoffs, including one for 53 yards. He also lined up as a flanker. In the third quarter, with the Cardinals facing third-and-11 at their 45, Sam Etcheverry passed over the middle to Fischer. The throw was high and behind the rookie, but he leaped, twisted and made a 22-yard catch for the first down, keeping alive a drive that led to a field goal. Game stats

Fischer made four starts at cornerback in 1962 before he tore a hamstring. He came back in 1963, intercepted eight passes in 14 games and became “a big favorite with the fans” for his mighty-mite grit, the Post-Dispatch reported.

According to the Washington Post, Fischer was “one of the earliest defensive backs to employ the bump and run technique. He would initiate contact at the line of scrimmage, throwing a receiver off balance and disrupting his path toward his normal pass route.”

As for his ability to take on blockers at least 70 pounds heavier and half a foot taller, Fischer explained to United Press International, “Football really is a game of angles or leverage, and that works to my advantage. I’m usually attacking a guard or tackle at a pivotal point. If I can just get underneath him a little bit and raise up at the same moment, I can knock him off balance much easier than he can me because he doesn’t have good balance when he comes out of the line.”

Rough boys

It all came together for Fischer in 1964. Cardinals defensive coordinator Chuck Drulis told the Post-Dispatch, “Pat is the best cornerback in the league right now. He seldom has been beaten this season.”

According to Bob Broeg of the Post-Dispatch, only one receiver, Washington’s Bobby Mitchell, caught a touchdown pass against Fischer in 1964.

“Mitchell is the toughest receiver I’ve ever tried to cover,” Fischer said to Broeg. “Playing a corner, you line up about seven yards from the flanker. If you backpedal, you ordinarily can afford to let the receiver close the gap to three yards before you’re forced to turn your back and start to run. If you let Mitchell get that close, he’s gone and so are you. You’ll never match him stride for stride when he turns on the juice.”

Though often matched against gifted pass catchers such as Mitchell, Boyd Dowler, Tommy McDonald and Jimmy Orr, Fischer had 10 interceptions in 14 games for the 1964 Cardinals. He returned two of those for touchdowns (both on passes thrown by Sonny Jurgensen) and also turned a fumble recovery into a score. Video

Another top receiver, the Browns’ Gary Collins, told the Associated Press, “Pat Fischer stayed so close to me that I thought I’d wake up in the morning and find him next to me in bed.”

Though he seemed to be the underdog because of his size, Fischer was a rough and rugged player who used intimidation to his advantage. “When I get up in the morning and look in the mirror, I growl,” he said to the Post-Dispatch.

“If he hits you, he’ll knock your socks off,” Baltimore Colts quarterback Johnny Unitas told the Washington Post.

Chicago Bears head coach George Halas accused Fischer of gouging the eyes of receiver Johnny Morris on consecutive plays. “On our ballclub, we don’t mind a little punch in the puss,” Halas said to the Chicago Tribune, “but sticking your finger in somebody’s eye is another matter. That’s not the name of the game.”

Job well done

Fischer played out his option, became a free agent after the 1967 season, and signed with Washington. (NFL commissioner Pete Rozelle compensated the Cardinals, awarding them Washington’s No. 2 draft pick in 1969 and a No. 3 choice in 1970.)

During his Washington stint, Fischer played in a Super Bowl (against the undefeated Miami Dolphins) and had a series of fascinating duels covering Harold Carmichael, the 6-foot-8 Philadelphia Eagles receiver who would earn election to the Pro Football Hall of Fame.

Fischer never lost his edge. In 1976, when he was 36, Fischer found himself in a situation similar to the one with Jim Brown 12 years earlier. This time, the bruising fullback was the 237-pound Larry Csonka, then with the New York Giants.

Bracing himself and using leverage, Fischer upended Csonka, who landed upside down. According to the Washington Post, in a gesture of respect from one top pro to another, Csonka got up and patted the diminutive cornerback on the back.

Looking to strengthen a starting rotation that already included 30-game winner Dizzy Dean, Branch Rickey, the Cardinals’ teetotaling general manager, acquired the Cubs’ Pat Malone, who drank highballs as fervently as he threw high fastballs.

Three weeks after the Cardinals beat the Tigers in World Series Game 7, Rickey traded catcher Ken O’Dea for Malone and cash on Oct. 26, 1934.

A husky right-hander, Malone, 32, was a two-time 20-game winner who twice helped the Cubs earn National League pennants (1929 and 1932), dethroning the Cardinals each time.

A fierce competitor, Malone had a reputation as a baseball bad boy off the field. “Pat was a problem child,” the Minneapolis Star noted. “He loved his firewater.” According to Sec Taylor of the Des Moines Register, “He just couldn’t leave the bottle alone.”

As the St. Louis Post-Dispatch put it, Malone could be found “where the lights are bright and the glasses tinkling.”

On the urging of manager Frankie Frisch, Rickey took a chance on the hurler.

Malone “ought to win 15 games for us,” Frisch said to the Post-Dispatch.

Rickey predicted to the St. Louis Star-Times, “I believe he’ll win 20 games for us.”

As it turned out, Malone never pitched in a regular-season game for the Cardinals.

Rough and tumble

Born in Altoona, Pa., Perce Leigh Malone was named in honor of a family friend, Perce Lay, a brakeman on the Pennsylvania Railroad, but he preferred to be called Pat. As The Sporting News noted, “Nobody called him Perce from the day he was able to put his hands up, and Pat was handy with his dukes.”

Malone went to work for the railroad as a fireman when he was 16. A year later, he joined the Army as a cavalry soldier. After his military service, Malone went back to railroading and also played sandlot baseball. His first year as a professional pitcher was 1921 with Knoxville.

He spent seven seasons in the minors. When he got to the Cubs in 1928, Malone lost his first five decisions. Manager Joe McCarthy stuck with him and the grateful rookie finished the season with 18 wins. “He thought McCarthy was the greatest guy in the world and McCarthy, who liked his spirit, thought right well of him, too,” New York Sun columnist Frank Graham observed.

According to the Minneapolis Star, “McCarthy never questioned (Malone’s) conduct off the field so long as he produced on it.”

Catching Malone’s blazing fastball took a toll on Gabby Hartnett, whose hand “often was puffed to three times its normal size,” The Sporting News noted.

The Cubs became National League champions in 1929 and Malone was a major factor. He led the league in wins (22), shutouts (five) and strikeouts (166). His record that season against the defending champion Cardinals was 5-0.

Malone won 20 again in 1930, but McCarthy was fired near the end of the season and replaced by Rogers Hornsby.

In the book “The Man in the Dugout,” Cubs second baseman Billy Herman told author Donald Honig, “Hornsby tried to have discipline on the club, but he had some bad actors and couldn’t control them _ fellows like Pat Malone and (outfielder) Hack Wilson. They’d get drunk and get into fights.”

As Si Burick of the Dayton Daily News noted, Malone “was mixed up in several unpleasantries as a direct result of his convivial escapades.” In one of those incidents, Malone assaulted two Cincinnati sports reporters.

Behavior clause

Charlie Grimm took over for Hornsby during the 1932 season and guided the Cubs to a pennant, but he and Malone had a falling out in 1934. Malone won eight of his last 10 decisions, raising his 1934 season record to 14-7, but Grimm yanked him from the starting rotation after Aug. 24. Malone said the Cubs had promised to give him a $500 bonus for each win above 15 and that’s why Grimm stopped starting him, the Star-Times reported.

Malone wanted out. During the 1934 World Series, he met with Frankie Frisch, who asked Rickey to arrange a trade, the Star-Times reported.

As the Post-Dispatch noted, “Malone is not exactly the kind of player Branch Rickey would choose.” To close the deal, the Cubs gave the Cardinals “considerable cash,” according to the Star-Times.

Rickey “practically clinched the 1935 National League championship for the Cardinals” when he got Malone to join a starting rotation with Dizzy Dean, Paul Dean, Bill Walker and Bill Hallahan, the Star-Times proclaimed.

The good vibes evaporated, though, when Rickey mailed a contract to Malone offering a 1935 salary of $5,000, a 50 percent cut from his pay with the Cubs in 1934. Malone sent back the document, unsigned, with a note: “Haven’t you made a mistake and sent me the batboy’s contract?”

According to the St. Louis Globe-Democrat, Rickey said the low offer was his way of emphasizing to Malone that the Cardinals didn’t consider him of much value unless he agreed to curb his drinking. Rickey said he didn’t plan to keep Malone unless he expressed “a strong determination to be a very, very well-behaved boy,” the Post-Dispatch reported.

Malone came to St. Louis, met with Rickey for more than two hours, promised he’d behave, and emerged with a signed contract. According to the Post-Dispatch, the contract had “a provision for a bonus if he refrained from tasting liquor during the training and league seasons, and for heavy fines if he wandered from the straight and non-intoxication path.”

Both appeared satisfied. Rickey said to the Post-Dispatch, “I expected to find horns on this man, Malone, but he hasn’t any.”

Malone told the newspaper, “Rickey isn’t the big, bad wolf I expected to meet.”

Math problem

A portly Malone lumbered into Cardinals spring training headquarters at Bradenton, Fla., in 1935. “There isn’t a uniform in camp big enough to give Malone arm freedom,” the Star-Times noted.

Following a morning of workouts early in camp, Malone accepted an invitation from Dizzy Dean to play golf that afternoon. After six holes, Malone “broke down. He sent his caddy back to the clubhouse with his sticks, called for a taxicab and went to the club’s hotel,” the Post-Dispatch reported. “Straight to his room he went, without bothering about food, and he was snoring before 6 o’clock.”

The next morning he told the newspaper, “I can barely move one leg after another. I never knew what work was until I came to this Cardinals camp.”

Determined to show the Cardinals he could contribute, Malone became “one of the hardest workers on the field,” the Post-Dispatch reported. “He showed the zest of a rookie.”

According to the Globe-Democrat, “Pat has given every indication of his willingness, nay, his eagerness, to cooperate to the fullest to become a regular and reliable starting pitcher when the season opens.”

Branch Rickey saw it differently. On March 26, 1935, he sold Malone’s contract to the Yankees, who were managed by Joe McCarthy, for a reported $15,000. According to the Post-Dispatch, Malone said to Rickey, “If you had kept me, I’d have shown you something. I’d have worked my head off and won for you.”

Describing the trade as a “surprise,” the Post-Dispatch added that Malone’s conduct “on and off the field during the training season has been all that anyone could have asked.”

While offering no specific reasons for the deal, Rickey said to the Star-Times, “I feel relieved considerably now that Malone is off our ballclub … After surveying conditions here for a week, I realized Malone was not the type I desired on a world championship team or a team that is going to try to win another pennant.”

Rickey told the Post-Dispatch, “There are four phases of arithmetic: addition, multiplication, division and subtraction. Applied to baseball, subtraction is the most important … I have subtracted Malone from the Cardinals’ roster. He cannot lose any games. He cannot lead any of our little boys astray. Ergo, the Cardinals are stronger.”

End of the line

Used primarily by McCarthy as a reliever, Malone was 19-13 with 18 saves in three seasons with the Yankees, helping them to two American League pennants (1936 and 1937).

Released in 1938, Malone joined the minor-league Minneapolis Millers at spring training in Daytona Beach, Fla., and was fitted for a uniform. “He stood there, a Coca-Cola in one hand and a cigarette in the other, while two men plied his Ruthian form with tape measures,” the Minneapolis Star reported.

Trouble soon followed. Manager Donie Bush told the newspaper, “Malone began drinking while the team was at Daytona Beach and we had several arguments about it then.”

Bristling against discipline by a minor-league club, Malone rebelled and twice was suspended within a week early in the season for getting drunk. He pitched for two more minor-league teams in 1938, his final year in professional baseball, before returning home to Altoona.

In October 1939, the Yankees were headed to Cincinnati for the World Series when the train stopped in Altoona for about 10 minutes. Malone climbed onboard, spent time with Joe McCarthy and went through the cars, saying hello to the players, according to columnist Frank Graham.

When it came time for the train to depart, Malone said to McCarthy, “Well, Joe, I wish to hell I was going with you.” McCarthy replied, “I wish you were, too, Pat.”

According to Harold C. Burr of the Brooklyn Eagle, Malone “stood on the station platform and watched the lighted windows of the Pullmans go streaking past. It was Malone’s wistful farewell to baseball.”

A month into his rookie year with the 1963 Reds, Pete Rose was struggling to hold on to his job. Then he played the Cardinals for the first time and got his career back on track.

Making a leap from the Class A level of the minors to the big leagues, Rose won the starting second base spot with the Reds at 1963 spring training. Once the season began, the player who would become baseball’s all-time hits king looked feeble at the plate.

Rose was batting .158 for the season when the Reds opened a four-game series against the Cardinals on May 3, 1963, at Cincinnati. Cardinals pitching turned out to be the remedy for Rose’s slump. He produced seven hits in 14 at-bats and drew five walks in the four games. He also totaled four RBI and scored three times, helping the Reds win three of the four.

After that, Rose thrived and went on to win the 1963 National League Rookie of the Year Award. The switch-hitter eventually totaled 4,256 career hits.

The Cincinnati Kid

A Cincinnati native, Rose was 19 when scout Buzz Boyle signed him for the Reds. Boyle said most clubs overlooked Rose because he only weighed 150 pounds in high school. “Knowing his family and seeing the kid and knowing his ambition, I felt he was well worth the chance,” Boyle told the Cincinnati Enquirer. “I don’t think he can be a mediocre player.”

Though he wasn’t on the Reds’ 40-man roster, Rose was invited to their Tampa spring training camp for a look in 1963 after hitting .330 for manager Dave Bristol’s Class A Macon (Ga.) Peaches the year before.

Don Blasingame, a former Cardinal who hit .281 for Cincinnati in 1962, was the Reds’ incumbent second baseman. Blasingame had a strong connection with Reds manager Fred Hutchinson. He was the second baseman when Hutchinson managed the Cardinals (1956-58) and again when Hutchinson led the Reds to a National League pennant in 1961.

Conventional wisdom had Rose ticketed to start the 1963 season at Class AAA San Diego but he took advantage of the spring training invitation with the Reds.

“The most exciting young ballplayer in the Cincinnati camp this spring is Pete Rose,” Si Burick of the Dayton Daily News proclaimed. “He gives the club added speed, enthusiasm, drive. He wants to play. Hutchinson has become so fond of the youngster, he doesn’t want to let him out of his sight.”

Hutchinson said to the Cincinnati Enquirer, “You’ve got to like a kid like Rose. He’s the winning type of player that a manager looks for.”

Reds third baseman Gene Freese told the newspaper, “Pete is another Nellie Fox, with power.” (Fox, a future Hall of Famer, was the all-star second baseman for the White Sox.)

Before a spring training game, Hutchinson and Phillies manager Gene Mauch watched Rose take his cuts in the batting cage. According to Si Burick, Hutchinson said to Mauch, “This boy came to play. He runs to first when he draws a walk and we’ve timed him going down to first on a pass in 4.2 seconds.”

The newspaper noted Rose was “nicknamed Charlie Hustle by his teammates.”

Asked by Si Burick why he ran hard to first base when issued a walk, Rose replied, “When I was a little kid, my dad took me to (Cincinnati’s) Crosley Field to see the Reds play the Cardinals. I saw (Enos) Country Slaughter run to first on a walk and I figured if it was good enough for him it was good enough for me.”

Bumpy beginning

As spring training neared an end, Hutchinson sought the advice of his coaches on whether Rose should be the Reds’ second baseman. According to Ritter Collett of the Dayton Journal Herald, Hutchinson asked them, “Do any of you think we’d hurt our chances by giving him a trial? Is there any of you who feels he hasn’t earned it?”

The answers to both were no.

Si Burick reported that on the day before the Reds’ season opener, Blasingame shook hands with Rose and said, “Kid, good luck. You’ve got a chance to make a lot of money in this game. Don’t do anything foolish to waste your chance.”

Rose told Burick, “You have to respect him for that.”

In the Reds’ season opener at home against the Pirates, Rose, batting second, was the first Cincinnati player to reach base (on a four-pitch walk from Earl Francis) and the first to score (on Frank Robinson’s home run). He helped turn three double plays. Rose also struck out looking and booted a routine grounder. In explaining the error, Rose told the Dayton Daily News, “I was still cussing myself for looking at that (third) strike. I wasn’t thinking about my job in the field.”

Hutchinson said to the newspaper, “He’ll learn that all this is part of the game … If you brood about a mistake and it leads to another mistake, you can’t make it in this game.”

Asked whether he was nervous in his debut, Rose replied to the Dayton Journal Herald, “Sure, I was nervous, but not scared. There’s a difference.” Boxscore

Hutchinson started Rose in the first six games (he batted .130), then benched him for Blasingame. As the Reds headed on a trip to Los Angeles and San Francisco, there was speculation Rose “probably will be dropped off at San Diego” to join the farm club there, the Journal Herald reported.

Instead, after Blasingame made eight consecutive starts at second and batted .160, Hutchinson restored Rose to the starting lineup on April 27.

Power hitter

When the first-place Cardinals (15-7) arrived in Cincinnati on May 3 for a weekend series with the ninth-place Reds (7-11), Rose was in a funk. He had one hit in 15 at-bats since regaining his starting status and was “perilously close to a return to the minors,” according to the Dayton Daily News.

The task didn’t figure to get any easier against the Cardinals’ Game 1 pitcher, Ernie Broglio. He was 3-0, and two of the wins were shutouts.

In his first at-bat against Broglio, Rose grounded out, but the next two turns at the plate were spectacular. Rose drove a Broglio pitch over the head of George Altman in right for a triple. Then he slammed a Broglio fastball for a two-run home run, “a prodigious blast that soared high over the center field wall,” the Daily News reported.

The homer, RBI and multi-hit game all were firsts for Rose as a big leaguer.

(According to the Daily News, after the home run, Rose crowed, “Sixty more and I tie [Roger] Maris.” Overhearing the remark, Hutchinson barked, “Don’t let that homer give you the idea you’re a slugger.”)

Facing Diomedes Olivo, 44, in the ninth, Rose, 22, grounded to short and nearly beat the throw to first. According to the Daily News, the brash rookie turned to umpire Jocko Conlan, 63, and said, “I need those close ones, Jocko. I’m only hitting .170.” Conlan replied, “I don’t care if you’re hitting .470. You’re still out.” Boxscore

Going against Gibson

In Game 2 of the series, Rose was perfect, with two singles and three walks in five plate appearances. He had a single and two walks against starter Bob Gibson, and a single and a walk versus Ed Bauta.

Rose’s one-out walk against Gibson in the third ignited a four-run outburst from the Reds, who won, 6-0, for the second day in a row. Boxscore

In his 1994 book “Stranger to the Game,” Gibson said, “For a singles and doubles hitter, Pete Rose carried himself with a big man’s swagger and could give a pitcher a hard time just through his sheer will to make something happen.”

(Gibson versus Rose was the ultimate in competitiveness and intensity. For his career against Gibson, Rose had a .307 batting average and .385 on-base percentage, with 35 hits, 12 walks and three hit by pitches. In 1967, Gibson and Rose were involved in a brawl. Another time, Gibson said in his autobiography, “I thought for sure I was getting to Pete Rose when I knocked him down and he got up and spit at me. When he got back to the dugout, though, I saw [manager] Sparky Anderson say something to him. I heard later Sparky advised Rose never to show me up.”)

On the way

The series ended with a Sunday doubleheader. Rose had two walks (one each against Ray Sadecki and Ron Taylor) in the opener, a 5-4 Reds triumph, and three hits (two versus Curt Simmons and one against Bobby Shantz) with two RBI in the finale, a 7-4 victory for the Cardinals. Boxscore and Boxscore

Steadied by his performances against the Cardinals, Rose produced consistently the remainder of his rookie season. On May 24, Hutchinson moved him into the leadoff spot and kept him there. In July, Blasingame was dealt to the Senators.

Rose played in 157 games for the 1963 Reds, batted . 273 and led the team in runs scored (101). He also ranked second on the club in hits (170), doubles (25), triples (nine) and walks (55).

Rose remained a thorn against Cardinals pitching. In 18 games against St. Louis in 1963, Rose had a .373 batting mark and a .435 on-base percentage. He had more hits (28) and more RBI (eight) versus the Cardinals than he did against any other club that year.

In nine games at St. Louis in 1963, Rose hit .419. Before the last of those games, the season finale, Rose shook hands with Stan Musial near the batting cage. Playing the final game of his career, Musial smacked two singles, both past Rose at second and into right field. Musial’s 3,630 hits were the National League record until Rose broke the mark 18 years later in 1981. Boxscore

Rose, who went 3-for-6 with a walk in Musial’s last game, finished his career with a .299 batting mark versus the Cardinals. Following the 1978 season, after he became a free agent and left the Reds, Rose considered an offer from the Cardinals but opted to sign instead with the Phillies.

Studying a football playbook or the intricacies of a defense don’t seem so daunting compared with preparing a dissertation on chemical engineering or doing research for the space program.

Charley Johnson was a good quarterback for 15 years in the NFL, including from 1961-69 with the St. Louis Cardinals. He led the NFL in completions (223) and passing yards (3,045) in 1964. His 170 career touchdown passes are more than the likes of Troy Aikman (165), Roger Staubach (153) and Bart Starr (152).

Perhaps even more impressive is that Johnson earned master’s and doctorate degrees in chemical engineering from St. Louis’ Washington University while playing in the NFL. He used that education to go into business, forming his own natural gas compression company, and then to become head of the chemical engineering department at New Mexico State University.

Basketball boost

As a high school quarterback in his hometown of Big Spring, Texas, Johnson was on a team that rarely passed the ball. No Division I college football program offered him a scholarship, so he enrolled at Schreiner Institute, a school in Kerrville, Texas, that specialized in preparing students for military careers.

After Johnson’s first year at Schreiner, the school dropped its football program. “I’m still not sure whether it was because of me or in spite of me,” Johnson said to the St. Louis Globe-Democrat.

Johnson stayed and played basketball for the school. At a tournament in Big Spring, New Mexico State athletic trainer Brick Bickerstaff was scouting players. Later that night, at a local chili parlor, Charley’s uncle, Jack Johnson, cornered Bickerstaff and persuaded him to offer his nephew a scholarship, according to Newspaper Enterprise Association. “I was recruited to play basketball,” Johnson told the Albuquerque Journal.

He left Schreiner in mid term and joined the 1957-58 New Mexico State basketball team, playing in two games. “I was very lucky to have received a scholarship anywhere,” Johnson told the Las Cruces Sun-News.

When the basketball season ended, Johnson tried out for the football team at its spring practice. Impressed, head coach Warren Woodson not only gave him a spot on the roster, he named him the starting quarterback.

With Johnson running an offense that featured scoring threats Pervis Atkins, Bob Gaiters and Bob Jackson, New Mexico State was 8-3 in 1959 and 11-0 in 1960, capping each season with a win in the Sun Bowl.

While excelling in football, Johnson also successfully pursued a bachelor’s degree in chemical engineering. He said he chose that field after he observed engineers on the site while he was digging ditches for a summer job in Texas. “I knew right then I wanted to be an engineer,” Johnson told the Albuquerque Journal.

Scholar-athlete

While studying New Mexico State game films of Pervis Atkins and Bob Jackson, the NFL Cardinals noticed Johnson, according to Newspaper Enterprise Association. He was drafted by both the Cardinals and the American Football League’s San Diego Chargers. He also got an offer from the Canadian Football League’s Winnipeg Blue Bombers, who were coached by Bud Grant.

The Cardinals made the highest bid, $15,000. 

After spending the 1961 Cardinals season as third-string quarterback behind Sam Etcheverry and Ralph Guglielmi, Johnson enrolled in a master’s program at Washington University, taking spring semester courses in engineering analysis, statistics and chemical kinetics.

During the 1962 season, he replaced Etcheverry as starting quarterback.

According to Sports Illustrated, “Johnson didn’t have much use for sleep. His day started at 5:15 a.m. when he wrote a commentary that he delivered on a St. Louis radio station (WIL) at 8. Following the broadcast, he went to classes at Washington U., carrying his playbook with his schoolbooks. Around noon, he headed to practice, and afterward back to class (or to research projects).”

At Washington U., Johnson “can be found leaning over a laboratory table, measuring the viscosity of polymer plastics,” the Globe-Democrat reported.

His specialty was rheology. He told the newspaper, “Rheology involves the science of flow characteristics of various materials. Many plastics, if you melt them, will flow through a small tube and then will expand to be larger than the tube as they come out. I’m trying to figure out why.”

The title of Johnson’s master’s thesis on polymers was titled, “Expansion of Laminar Jets of Organic Liquids Issuing From Capillary Tubes.”

After receiving his master’s in a June 1963 ceremony, Johnson met with teammate Sonny Randle and practiced pass patterns.

At the helm

Johnson led the Cardinals to records of 9-5 in 1963 and 9-3-2 in 1964. Some of his most intense duels were with Cleveland Browns quarterback Frank Ryan, who earned a doctorate in advanced mathematics from Rice in 1965.

Describing that period as “the Charley Johnson era,” Cardinals owner Bill Bidwill said to the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, “It was a team that would innovate. It was a good football team.”

Post-Dispatch columnist Bob Broeg called Johnson “underrated” and added, “He didn’t have the strongest or even the most accurate arm, but he had a knack of getting something out of most scoring opportunities, and he was superb when competing against the two-minute clock at the end of a half or a game.”

In his biography, quarterback Jim Hart, who joined the Cardinals in 1966, said Johnson “studied the game, he knew defenses, and he knew just what he wanted to do. I marveled at the game plan he would call. He didn’t have the overpowering arm. It was more like (Fran) Tarkenton’s. He wasn’t going to break a pane of glass at 50 yards, but he really feathered the ball in there.”

Regarding Johnson’s leadership skills, Hart said, “He had a quiet confidence that I’ve tried to emulate.”

Asked by Post-Dispatch columnist Bernie Miklasz in January 1988 to name the starting quarterback on his all-St. Louis Cardinals team, Bill Bidwill chose Johnson over Hart. “If he hadn’t been hurt, Johnson would have been in the (Pro Football) Hall of Fame,” Bidwill said. “He was an outstanding player.” Video

Rocket man

Johnson suffered a shoulder separation in 1965 and tore ligaments in his right knee in 1966. He was called to active Army duty as a second lieutenant in 1967 and 1968, and assigned to do research on high temperature plastics for the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) in Hampton, Va. “The project could eventually be important in developing heat- and radiation-resistant material for spacecraft,” the Post-Dispatch reported.

Johnson commuted to Cardinals games during his Army stint but rarely played. When he completed his tour of duty, he continued his NASA research at Monsanto Chemical in St. Louis as a doctoral project for Washington U.

(To the delight of an audience at an April 1967 fundraising banquet in Las Cruces, N.M., Johnson shared the dais with actor Leonard Nimoy, who played Mr. Spock in the “Star Trek” TV series.)

Though Johnson, 30, returned full-time to the Cardinals in 1969, head coach Charley Winner was committed to Jim Hart. Johnson asked to be traded. The Cardinals obliged, sending him and cornerback Bob Atkins to the Houston Oilers for quarterback Pete Beathard and cornerback Miller Farr in January 1970.

After the first of his two seasons with the Oilers, Johnson earned his doctorate in chemical engineering from Washington U., in June 1971. Asked about his dissertation on high-performance plastic resistant to heat and radiation, Johnson told the Texas Star, “My professors and I used a new technique to determine temperatures at which plastic can be molded. It evoked a reaction because there were quite a few plastics not molded at the time of their discovery. No one knew at what temperatures to mold them. People wanted to try our technique, to find out how to mold these plastics which had been shelved.”

Distinguished faculty

In August 1972, the Oilers sent Johnson to the Denver Broncos for a high draft pick. A year later, he led the Broncos to their first winning season since the franchise began in 1960.

After his final season with Denver in 1975, Johnson told United Press International, “I always will feel I’m a Cardinal. I guess that’s because St. Louis is where I started out, and it’s just hard to forget from where you came.”

Johnson became an engineering consultant for a natural gas compressor company in Houston before starting his own firm, Johnson Compression Services, in 1981.

In 2000, he was named head of the chemical engineering department at New Mexico State and continued teaching there until 2010.

In a bid to contend with the Cardinals and others for the 1964 National League pennant, the Giants added the majors’ first Japanese import to their bullpen.

On Sept. 1, 1964, Masanori Murakami, 20, became the first Japanese native to play in the big leagues when he pitched in relief for the Giants against the Mets.

Possessing impressive command of his pitches, Murakami, a left-hander, made an impact. Though the Giants didn’t win a pennant in either of his two seasons with them, Murakami “was right at the top among relief pitchers in the National League,” Giants general manager Chub Feeney told the San Francisco Examiner in 1965. “Possibly only Ron Perranoski of the Dodgers was better.”

In two years with the Giants, Murakami was 5-1 with nine saves and struck out 100 batters in 89.1 innings.

He faced the Cardinals four times, all in 1965, and was 1-0 with a save.

Baseball rebirth

Murakami was born during World War II in Otsuki, Japan, a silk production center, on May 6, 1944.

After the war, Tsuneo “Cappy” Harada, a Japanese-American who served the Allies in military intelligence, was assigned by General Douglas MacArthur to encourage the resumption of baseball in Japan, according to the Hartford Courant.

Helping Harada in his efforts was Lefty O’Doul, two-time National League batting champion. O’Doul made multiple trips to Japan to promote baseball before the war and became a national institution, according to Red Smith of the New York Herald Tribune. In return visits there after the war, O’Doul was an influence on young Masanori Murakami, according to the Examiner.

Murakami was 19 when he joined the Nankai Hawks of the Japan Pacific League in September 1963. Cappy Harada was scouting for the San Francisco Giants then. Harada arranged with Nankai to let three of their teen prospects _ Murakami, infielder Tatsuhiko Tanaka and catcher Hiroshi Takahashi _ join the Giants’ organization in 1964. “They sent me over … to study the baseball system,” Murakami said years later to the New York Times.

New world

After getting a look at the Japanese teens in 1964 spring training, the Giants determined Murakami could pitch for the Class A Fresno farm club. The other two players were sent there with Murakami to observe before they’d join a rookie level farm team at Twins Falls, Idaho, in June.

The agricultural Fresno area then was home to 15,000 Japanese-Americans. Murakami and his two countrymen resided in the home of Keek Saiki and his wife Fumiko. “They drink milk by the gallon,” Fumiko said to the Examiner, “and go for fried chicken and westerns on TV. They are very quiet, write letters a yard long and ask where they can swim.”

Murakami’s manager at Fresno was Bill Werle. A former left-handed reliever for the Cardinals, he saw Murakami had the makeup to be a closer. “His control is incredible,” Werle told the Examiner. “That’s why I put him in tight spots in late innings … His low curve makes the batsmen tap grounders for double plays.”

Murakami was 11-7 with 11 saves and a 1.78 ERA for Fresno. He struck out 159 batters in 106 innings. Murakami made one start _ on Japanese-American Night in Fresno _ and pitched a complete game in a 3-2 win over Reno.

“He was too good for the league,” Werle told the Los Angeles Times.

The 1964 Giants entered September in third place in the National League and were a half game ahead of the Cardinals when they called up Murakami. Attempting the leap from Class A to the majors was formidable. The cultural significance of being the first Japanese-born big leaguer added to the challenge.

Big Apple

The rookie joined the Giants in New York for their series against the Mets. At Shea Stadium, he was greeted by general manager Chub Feeney and several Japanese reporters and photographers.

Murakami carried with him a Stan Musial model glove. When asked by the Examiner whether Musial was one of his favorites, Murakami shrugged. His English was limited.

Feeney “trailed him around the field, pen in hand, before the game,” trying to get Murakami to sign a major-league contract, the Times reported. Murakami didn’t want to sign until he understood what the contract meant. Feeney scrambled to find an interpreter and eventually got Murakami’s signature.

With the Mets ahead, 4-0, Giants manager Al Dark brought in Murakami to pitch the eighth. According to Newsday, “Many of the (39,379) fans stood and cheered when the pitcher came into the game.”

Mets starter Al Jackson told the newspaper, “We thought he might be a little nervous, but he wasn’t.”

Actually, Murakami told the San Francisco Chronicle, “I was afraid.” To calm his nerves, he said he hummed the tune “Sukiyaki” as he walked to the mound.

Murakami struck out the first batter, Charlie Smith. Chris Cannizzaro singled, then Ed Kranepool struck out and Roy McMillan grounded out. “As Murakami, with a spring in his gait and a wad of chewing gum in his mouth, strode toward the Giants’ dugout, Mets fans stood and cheered,” the Associated Press reported.

Stadium organist Jane Jarvis saluted Murakami’s successful debut with “The Japanese Sandman.” Boxscore

The next day, from Lefty O’Doul’s saloon near San Francisco’s Union Square, Examiner columnist Prescott Sullivan wrote that Murakami’s debut made the proprietor the happiest man in town. “Such was his joy, that for a period of six seconds, shortly before 11 a.m. when a slow bartender was on duty, all drinks served at his Geary Street tavern were on the house,” Sullivan noted.

Back in New York, Murakami was a guest on Ralph Kiner’s TV show, but, even with an interpreter, something got lost in translation, according to the Examiner.

Kiner: “What is your best pitch?”

Murakami: “Koufax.”

Kiner: “Who is your favorite pitcher?”

Murakami: “Curveball and a little bit changeup.”

Murakami asked to meet 74-year-old Mets manager Casey Stengel, who spoke his own unique style of English, Stengelese. Stengel posed with Murakami for a photo. Asked what he thought of him, Murakami said to the Examiner, “Nice old man. Very friendly.”

Sudden impact

In his first nine appearances for the 1964 Giants, covering 11 innings, Murakami didn’t allow a run. His first big-league win came against Houston at San Francisco’s Candlestick Park. Murakami pitched three scoreless innings and the game ended when Matty Alou of the Dominican Republic slugged a home run (his first in two years) against French-Canadian Claude Raymond in the 11th. Boxscore

In his next appearance, against the Cubs, Murakami faced three future Hall of Famers, Billy Williams, Ron Santo, Ernie Banks, and retired them in order. Boxscore

Described by the Examiner as “the slingin’ samurai,” he finished with a 1-0 record, one save and a 1.80 ERA for the 1964 Giants, striking out 15 and walking one in 15 innings. Batters hit .163 against him.

The Giants and Nankai Hawks both wanted Murakami to pitch for them in 1965, causing a dispute between the clubs. The matter got settled in late April 1965 when the Hawks agreed to let Murakami play for the Giants on the condition he’d be allowed to return to Japan in 1966 if he desired.

Murakami made his first appearance for the 1965 Giants on May 9, three days after he turned 21. (Murakami and teammate Willie Mays shared a birthday.)

When the Giants were at home, Murakami resided at the Benjamin Franklin Hotel in San Mateo. On the road, his roommate was fellow left-handed reliever Bill Henry, 37, a Texan, who began playing professional baseball in 1948 with the Clarksdale Planters of Mississippi.

Popular with teammates, Murakami “has an innate dignity, a quiet confidence and a sly sense of humor,” the Examiner’s George Murphy observed.

Giants manager Herman Franks was trying to find the players who were helping Murakami learn English. When Franks went to the mound to talk to Murakami during a game, the pitcher smiled and said to him, “Take a hike.” (Or words a good deal stronger than that.) Franks told the Examiner, “I don’t think he knows what he’s saying.”

Reliable reliever

Murakami beat the Cardinals the first time he faced them. With the score tied at 2-2 and Cardinals runners on first and second, one out, Murakami relieved Frank Linzy. He got Tim McCarver to pop out to second and fanned Carl Warwick. After Tom Haller’s two-run homer against Bob Gibson in the top of the 13th, Murakami retired the Cardinals in order for the win. Boxscore

A month later, with the Giants clinging to a 3-2 lead, the Cardinals had Julian Javier on second, two outs, in the ninth when Murakami relieved Linzy and struck out Bill White for the save. Boxscore

Murakami was especially effective against the Dodgers. In eight appearances covering 11 innings versus the 1965 Dodgers, he allowed one run (for an 0.82 ERA) and struck out 11. He also got his first big-league hit, a bunt single, against the Dodgers’ Sandy Koufax. Boxscore

Because of his delayed start to the season, Murakami wasn’t available when the Giants’ bullpen lost games to the Dodgers on April 30 and May 7.

“We lost the pennant to the Dodgers by only two games, and I missed one month,” Murakami said to Jim Murray of the Los Angeles Times. “If I pitched more, we would have won the pennant.”

Murakami was 4-1 with eight saves for the 1965 Giants. He struck out 85 in 74.1 innings and held batters to a .206 average.

Times have changed

Afterward, Murakami opted to play for the Nankai Hawks. “Murakami explained he wanted to stay with the Giants in 1966, but pressure from his parents, among others, forced him to return to Japan,” the Examiner reported.

Years later, asked by Jim Murray whether he wished he had stayed a Giant, Murakami replied, “Oh, yes.”

Murakami pitched in Japan for 18 years. His best season was 1968 when he was 18-4 with a 2.38 ERA for the Nankai Hawks. His teammates that season included second baseman Don Blasingame, a former Cardinal, and first baseman Marty Keough, who would become a Cardinals scout.

In 1983, when he was 38, Murakami attempted a comeback with the Giants but was released in spring training. “Fastball not so fast,” he told the Examiner.

Thirty years passed between the time Murakami last pitched for the 1965 Giants and the next Japanese player, Hideo Nomo of the 1995 Dodgers, reached the majors. A Japanese network arranged to televise Nomo’s games and hired Murakami as a broadcaster. On Aug. 5, 1995, at Candlestick Park, Murakami was honored by the Giants and threw the ceremonial first pitch. Then Nomo took the mound and hurled a one-hit shutout. Boxscore

Nomo received the 1995 National League Rookie of the Year Award. More Japanese players followed. The Cardinals signed their first, outfielder So Taguchi, in January 2002. In 2024, the most celebrated player in the game was the Dodgers’ Shohei Ohtani of Japan.