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For a time, the battery of pitcher Dizzy Dean and catcher Spud Davis formed a dynamic duo for the Cardinals. Dizzy and Spud. Comic strip names. Gashouse Gang characters.

On Nov. 15, 1933, the Cardinals got Davis and infielder Eddie Delker from the Phillies for catcher Jimmie Wilson. The trade was a reverse of one made five years earlier when the Cardinals sent Davis to the Phillies for Wilson.

A right-handed batter, Davis was a consistent .300 hitter. His return to the Cardinals helped them become World Series champions in 1934, a year when Dean became the last National League pitcher to achieve 30 wins in a season.

The hard-throwing Dean and the hard-hitting Davis seemed right for one another, but then their relationship splintered.

Tater time

Virgil Lawrence Davis was born and raised in Birmingham, Ala. He got the nickname Spud at an early age from a cousin who noted his fondness for potatoes, according to the Birmingham Post-Herald.

Sent to a military academy in Mississippi, Davis was a standout in baseball and football. According to the Post-Herald, he was offered college football scholarships, but opted for professional baseball, joining the Gulfport (Miss.) Tarpons of the Class D Cotton States League in 1926.

On the recommendation of their scout, Bob Gilks, the Yankees signed Davis in September 1926. The Brooklyn Daily Eagle rated him “the best-looking catcher in the minors.”

Placed on the big-league spring training roster, Davis was given a chance to make the leap from Class D to the 1927 Yankees. In a March 8 intrasquad game, he was the catcher on a team managed by Babe Ruth. The New York Daily News described Davis as “garrulous, a bundle of energy.”

Three weeks later, the Yankees sent Davis to a farm club, the Reading (Pa.) Keystones, managed by Fred Merkle, whose baserunning blunder prevented the 1908 Giants from winning the National League pennant.

Davis hit .308 for Reading in 1927. A rival manager, Burt Shotton of the Cardinals’ Syracuse club, was impressed. Afterward, when baseball commissioner Kenesaw Mountain Landis declared Davis eligible for the minor-league draft, the Cardinals chose him on Shotton’s recommendation, the Post-Herald reported.

Contact hitter

Davis, 23, made the Opening Day roster of the 1928 Cardinals and played in two April games for them. In May, he was dealt as part of a package to the Phillies, who had hired Burt Shotton as their manager. The key player the Cardinals got in return was a shrewd, experienced catcher, Jimmie Wilson.

With Wilson as their catcher, the Cardinals won three National League pennants (1928, 1930, 1931) and a World Series title (1931).

Davis, meanwhile, developed into a fearsome hitter with the Phillies. He hit better than .300 for them in each of five consecutive seasons (1929-33). The Sporting News declared Davis “the best-hitting catcher in the National League.”

Davis ranked second in the league in both batting (.349) and on-base percentage (.395) in 1933. The league leader in both categories was his Phillies teammate Chuck Klein, who hit .368 and had a .422 on-base percentage.

Against the Cardinals in 1933, Davis hit .425 (31-for-73).

The Cardinals wanted to get Davis back because of his bat and because Jimmie Wilson was not getting along with Frankie Frisch, who had replaced Gabby Street as manager during the 1933 season, the St. Louis Star-Times reported.

So, the Wilson-for-Davis deal was made. Frisch got the catcher he wanted. The Phillies got both a catcher and a leader. Wilson became their player-manager, replacing Burt Shotton.

Time share

Davis began the 1934 season with a bang. He hit .395 in April. In consecutive games against the Reds in July, Davis totaled eight hits, seven RBI. Boxscore and Boxscore

The Cardinals’ pitching was led by the Dean brothers, Dizzy and Paul. Davis told the Post-Herald, “Paul was the fastest pitcher I ever caught. The difference between him and Diz was Dizzy had everything else _ a good curve, control, change of pace and lots of heart.”

(Davis also told the Birmingham newspaper that the Cardinals’ Bill Hallahan “was the best money pitcher I ever saw. If there was one game you needed, I’d take Hallahan.”)

As the 1934 season unfolded, backup catcher Bill DeLancey impressed when given chances to start. The Cardinals, in third place in the National League at the end of July, surged in August (19-11) and September (21-7) and won the pennant. DeLancey contributed, hitting .345 in August and .311 in September.

In the meantime, friction developed between Davis and Dizzy Dean. According to Dean biographer Robert Gregory in his book “Diz,” Dizzy was complaining in the clubhouse late in the season about how hard it was to keep winning without enough support from his teammates. “I ought to whip the whole bunch of you _ at the same time,” Dean ranted. Davis looked up and said, “Shut the fuck up.”

Davis hit .300 (.375 with runners in scoring position) and had an on-base percentage of .366 for the 1934 Cardinals, but Frankie Frisch decided to start DeLancey (.316 batting mark, .414 on-base percentage) at catcher in the World Series against the Tigers. According to the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, when Frisch, who was fond of Davis, told him about the decision, Davis replied, “The hell with how I or anybody else may feel. Bill (DeLancey) has been hot. He’s winning for us. Keep him in there. The pitchers have confidence in him.”

DeLancey started all seven World Series games and the Cardinals prevailed. Davis made two pinch-hit appearances and singled both times, driving in a run. After his first hit, Davis was replaced by a pinch-runner, Dizzy Dean. On attempting to move from first to second on a grounder, Dean got conked in the right temple by a throw from shortstop Billy Rogell. “The first thing I knew, a thousand little stars and big stars was jumping around before my eyes, but I never did see no tigers,” Dean told the Post-Dispatch. Boxscore

Dissed by Dizzy

Davis and DeLancey split catching duties with the 1935 Cardinals. Davis hit .317 (.398 with runners in scoring position) and had a .386 on-base percentage. DeLancey hit .279 with an on-base mark of .369.

To Dizzy Dean, though, the choice was clear: He wanted DeLancey to be his catcher. With Dizzy on the mound, Davis dropped a pop fly in Cincinnati and called for a pitch in Brooklyn that was drilled for a home run. Dean told the Cardinals he lost faith in Davis after that. “Having confidence in a catcher, no matter how good a pitcher a fellow is, means an awful lot,” Dean wrote in a letter to Cardinals executive Branch Rickey.

(In defending Davis, Frisch told the Post-Dispatch, “Diz didn’t know Spud wasn’t calling the pitches. I was.”

Dean went public with his criticism of Davis after the 1935 season.  According to his biographer, Dean said, “I ain’t pitching no more with him back there.”

Rickey wrote to Dean, “I was utterly amazed that you would think about Davis as you do about him.”

Frisch and the team captain, shortstop Leo Durocher, rallied around Davis. Frisch called Dean’s criticism of Davis “unfair and uncalled for” and described Davis as “a great catcher,” the Star-Times reported.

Durocher told the newspaper, “Spud Davis is probably the most popular man on our ballclub. He’s the smartest catcher in the big leagues today and Dizzy overlooks all those games that Spud won for him with his hitting. Davis can catch for my money every day in the week.”

J. Roy Stockton of the Post-Dispatch noted, “The men in the dugout know that Davis is valuable. They know his stout heart.”

When Dean got to spring training, he and Davis shook hands, and, in a statement prepared for him by Rickey, Dizzy said, “Give me a ball and glove and put Davis behind the plate.”

Davis hit .273 for the 1936 Cardinals, ending a streak of seven straight seasons of .300 or better. He was sent to the Reds after the season.

Davis caught more of Dean’s games (68) than any other catcher, according to baseball-reference.com. Dean’s ERA in games with Davis as catcher was 2.87 _ better than his overall career mark of 3.02.

Hitting the best

Frankie Frisch and Spud Davis stuck together. When Frisch managed the Pirates in the 1940s, Davis was his catcher and then a coach. Davis also was a coach on Frisch’s staff when he later managed the Cubs.

In his 16 seasons as a big-league player, Davis batted .308 and produced 1,312 hits. His on-base percentage was .369. In 459 career at-bats versus the Cardinals, Davis hit .305. He batted .333 (11-for-33) against Dizzy Dean and .406 (13-for-22) against another future Hall of Famer from the Cardinals, Jesse Haines.

Asked by the Post-Herald to name the best right-handed pitcher he played with or against, Davis chose Dizzy Dean. His pick for best left-hander was Carl Hubbell of the Giants.

Davis hit .301 (41-for-133) versus Hubbell, who told the Newspaper Enterprise Association, “He’s hard to outguess. I try to make each pitch something unexpected but somehow Spud anticipates a fair number of my offerings.”

Davis explained to the Post-Herald, “I could hit a low ball well and Hubbell’s best pitch (a screwball) was low.”

An encounter with Bob Knight at an NCAA Tournament showed me a side of him I hadn’t expected.

Knight’s death at 83 on Nov. 1, 2023, prompted me to reflect on my experiences with him. We didn’t know one another, but as a sports reporter in Indiana in the late 1970s and early 1980s, I got to see him up close when I covered basketball games he coached for Indiana University and attended his press conferences. He was idolized in Indiana, but I detested how he bullied and belittled others.

In March 1983, the Evansville Press sent me to Knoxville, Tenn., to cover the NCAA Mideast Regional. The Indiana Hoosiers had a third-round game there against the Kentucky Wildcats.

On the day before the game, the Hoosiers conducted a public shooting practice at Stokely Athletics Center on the University of Tennessee campus. About 300 onlookers attended.

After the light workout, about eight spectators approached Knight near the court, seeking autographs. As Knight signed, the crowd around him swelled to about 25 people. Knight kept signing and more people came out of the stands. He signed for at least 75 people and chatted with them, too.

As the group finally thinned, a man approached with his 11-year-old son and asked Knight to pose for a photo with the boy. Knight obliged.

After signing his autograph for a few more stragglers, Knight remained on the court, talking with his former assistant, Tennessee head coach Don DeVoe, and others he knew.

As Knight reached for the sports coat and tie he had draped on a chair, I approached and introduced myself. Knight was 6-foot-4 and large, and up close he seemed even bigger. I am 6-foot-3, but he seemed imposing even to me.

I asked him why he had been so accommodating to all those people.

Knight extended his right arm, wrapped it tight around my shoulder and started walking down the court, taking me along with him. I struggled to get a grip on my pen and notepad as he kept a firm lock on my shoulder.

“I remember when I was a kid trying to do that,” he said, referring to the autograph seekers. “I wanted autographs from baseball players.”

Knight was born and raised in Ohio and he was a devoted Cleveland Indians fan.

“I’d go to Cleveland and wait for the players to come out of the stadium,” he said. “One of my favorites was Cleveland second baseman Bobby Avila. One day, I saw him and asked for an autograph. He blew me off. I never forgot the feeling, and I told myself that if I ever was in a position where anyone would want my autograph someday, I wouldn’t do that to them.”

I started to ask another question, but we had reached the end of the court. Knight removed his arm from my shoulder, turned and strode toward the tunnel to the locker room.

I stood there, scribbling in my notepad, trying to make sure I had a record of what he said.

I had my exclusive and, most important of all, some insights about Bob Knight that made me understand better about everyone having different sides to them.

In his nine seasons with the Dallas Cowboys, running back Walt Garrison scored three touchdowns in a game just once. He did it against the St. Louis Cardinals.

Though used as the No. 2 running back behind the likes of Calvin Hill, Don Perkins and Duane Thomas during his NFL playing days, Garrison was an important member of the Cowboys’ offense.

As Los Angeles Times columnist Jim Murray noted, “He wasn’t fast. He wasn’t big. He was just dangerous.”

An effective receiver and rugged runner, Garrison played in two Super Bowls and helped the Cowboys win their first NFL championship. He also competed in rodeos, roping and wrestling steers. 

College cowboy

Garrison was born in Denton, Texas, and went to high school in Lewisville, a town 10 miles north of the Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport. He started playing football in seventh grade and first competed in rodeos a year later, according to United Press International.

Though a standout high school fullback, Garrison got no interest from the Texas schools in the Southwest Conference, the Denton Record-Chronicle reported. “He was considered too slow for offense and too small for defense in the Lone Star State,” Jim Murray wrote.

Garrison accepted a scholarship offer to play football for the Oklahoma State Cowboys of the Big Eight Conference and major in veterinary medicine.

A linebacker for the freshman team, Garrison was moved to running back when he joined the varsity as a sophomore in 1963 and had a 48-yard touchdown run against Texas.

Garrison was the Big Eight rushing leader (730 yards) as a junior in 1964, finishing ahead of Oklahoma’s Jim Grisham (725) and Kansas’ Gale Sayers (633).

After Garrison rushed for 121 yards versus Nebraska his senior season, Cornhuskers head coach Bob Devaney called him “the best fullback I’ve ever seen in the Big Eight,” according to the Associated Press.

Garrison finished the 1965 season with 924 yards rushing and was second in the conference to Missouri’s Charlie Brown (937).

Big decisions

In 1966, Garrison was drafted in the fifth round by the Dallas Cowboys of the National Football League and in the 17th round by the Kansas City Chiefs of the American Football League. (The Cardinals bypassed Garrison in the fifth round and took Michigan receiver Jack Clancy, who signed with the AFL Miami Dolphins.)

Regarding the Chiefs, “They made me a real good offer and I gave a lot of thought to signing with them, but figured the NFL was the best place to play,” he told the Denton Record-Chronicle. “Its pension plan and other benefits give it the edge.”

The Cowboys sealed the deal with him when they included a horse trailer as part of his bonus, according to the Denton newspaper.

Garrison spent his first three NFL seasons (1966-68) as a backup to Don Perkins, a six-time Pro Bowl selection in his eight years with Dallas. Don Meredith was the Cowboys’ quarterback. Garrison told the Dallas Morning News, “Don used to say, ‘If you need three yards, give the ball to Walt and he’ll get you three yards. If you need 12 yards, give the ball to Walt and he’ll get you three.’ “

Garrison’s main contribution his first two seasons with Dallas was as a kick returner. As a rookie in 1966, he averaged 22.3 yards on 20 kick returns. He was the Cowboys’ leading kick returner (18.3-yard average) in 1967.

On June 30, 1967, after his rookie season, Garrison signed a two-year contract with the Cowboys in the morning and married Pamela Kay Phillips that night at Lovers Lane Methodist Church in Dallas, the Denton Record-Chronicle reported.

Pamela was the daughter of B.F. Phillips, an independent oilman and “one of the nation’s most prominent quarter horse breeders,” according to the Los Angeles Times. Jim Murray called him “one of Texas’ richest men.”

According to the Corpus Christi Caller-Times, Walt and Pamela “met at a horse sale at the Phillips Ranch in Frisco, Texas” and started dating in November 1966. “Pam has ridden in barrel races in rodeo,” the newspaper noted.

Put me in, coach

After Don Perkins retired, rookie Calvin Hill of Yale and Garrison became the Cowboys’ top rushers in 1969.

When the Cowboys played the San Francisco 49ers for the 1970 NFC championship, Garrison came out of the game because of a severely sprained ankle. He also had back spasms, a twisted right knee and a chipped collarbone, according to the Fort Worth Star-Telegram.

Garrison talked head coach Tom Landry into letting him back in and caught a pass from Craig Morton for the winning touchdown. Landry told the Associated Press, “He came up to me and said he was OK, but I knew he was lying. No other player in football would have gone back into the game.” Game stats

Bob Broeg of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch described Garrison as “tough as a worn saddle.” Jim Murray wrote, “He looks like 190 pounds of trouble just sitting there. He’s coiled.”

Two weeks later, before the Cowboys played in the Super Bowl for the first time, team trainer Larry Gardner told the Associated Press how he got Garrison prepared. “That guy has so much tape on him he’s almost a mummy,” Gardner said. “I wrap him with 36 yards of tape and sometimes I have to get out more during the game.”

With Calvin Hill sidelined because of a knee injury, Garrison was the Cowboys’ leading rusher (65 yards on 12 carries), but the Baltimore Colts prevailed in the Super Bowl, 16-13. Game stats

The next season, Garrison led the 1971 Cowboys in receptions (40), finishing ahead of the likes of Bob Hayes (35), Lance Alworth (34) and Mike Ditka (30). The Cowboys returned to the Super Bowl and won their first NFL title with a 24-3 triumph versus the Dolphins. The rushing leaders were Duane Thomas (95 yards) and Garrison (74). Game stats

Real deal

Garrison competed in professional rodeos after each NFL season. He rode broncos and bulls before the Cowboys asked him to stop, but he continued to rope steer and wrestle steer, United Press International reported.

“Ranching and rodeoing are the great life for me,” Garrison told the Denton Record-Chronicle.

Jim Murray wrote, “He was the genuine spurs-on-the-boots, chaps-on-the-Levis, hammered copper-on-the-belt buckle article, the cowboy on the Dallas Cowboys.”

Asked about his Super Bowl ring, Garrison told John Hall of the Los Angeles Times, “I only wear it when I’m traveling. People want to see it, but I take it off around the rodeo guys. They’re not too impressed.”

Garrison also became a promoter of moist snuff, cut tobacco placed in the mouth. The Los Angeles Times described him as “a tidy chewer. No big lump in the cheek, and he swallows the juice. No spitting.”

Big scorer

On Dec. 3, 1972, the Cowboys faced the Cardinals in a cold drizzle at Busch Memorial Stadium in St. Louis.

In the second quarter, with Dallas ahead, 3-0, Craig Morton passed to Garrison on the right flat. Garrison got past strong safety Larry Wilson and then free safety Roger Werhli and went into the end zone for an 18-yard touchdown reception. “A great individual effort,” the Fort Worth Star-Telegram declared.

Garrison had a three-yard touchdown run in the third quarter. Then, with Dallas on the Cardinals’ 26-yard line and ahead, 17-6, in the fourth quarter, Morton again tossed to Garrison in the right flat. He ran untouched into the end zone for his third touchdown. Larry Wilson “just took a chance, went for the down-and-in and Walt outraced him to the goal,” Tom Landry told the Star-Telegram.

Garrison said to the Associated Press, “They were checking our tight end (Mike Ditka) and that left me open. They weren’t paying attention to me.”

The Cardinals fumbled seven times. Dallas recovered four of those, leading to scores each time, and won, 27-6. Game stats

Time to go

In June 1975, Garrison tore knee ligaments in a steer wrestling exhibition at Bozeman, Mont., and underwent surgery. Two months later, Garrison, 31, told the Cowboys he was done playing football.

“Nine years in the NFL. Just about six too many,” Garrison told John Hall of the Los Angeles Times.

Garrison scored 39 regular-season touchdowns _ 30 rushing and nine receiving _ for the Cowboys. He also had two more receiving touchdowns in playoff games. Video

Joe Christopher was from St. Croix, largest of the U.S. Virgin Islands. Once a port of call for pirates, it is known for its exquisite beaches and excellent rum.

Christopher Columbus visited the island in 1493 and named it Santa Cruz (Holy Cross), and over the years, through multiple translations, it derived into St. Croix.

Almost 500 years later, Christopher _ Joe, that is _ played in Columbus, for a baseball team affiliated, naturally, with the Pirates.

An outfielder trained in a Branch Rickey farm system, Joe Christopher played for both a World Series champion (1960 Pirates) and a team with 120 losses (1962 Mets). After making a fielding blunder, Christopher got a letter of encouragement from Jackie Robinson and went on to have the best season of his career.

A .260 hitter in the majors with the Pirates (1959-61), Mets (1962-65) and Red Sox (1966), Christopher was a terror against the Cardinals. He batted .418 against them in 1964, a season when he led the Mets in nearly every hitting category. Three years later, he was playing in the Cardinals farm system.

Path to the pros

A right-handed batter with speed, Christopher, 18, was playing shortstop with a team from St. Croix at the National Baseball Congress amateur tournament in Wichita, Kansas, in 1954 when he drew the attention of Howie Haak, the same Pirates scout who signed second baseman Julian Javier. According to The Pittsburgh Press, Haak convinced Christopher to accept a Pirates offer of $200.

Branch Rickey was Pirates general manager and he made a lasting impression on Christopher. “Branch Rickey enhanced my spirit,” Christopher told author Edward Kiersh in the book “Where Have You Gone, Vince DiMaggio?” “What a courageous man. He knew all about the hidden order and the way to higher realms.”

In 1959, Christopher, 23, was in his fifth year in the minors, playing for the Columbus (Ohio) Jets, when he got called up to the Pirates in May to replace Roberto Clemente, who went on the disabled list.

“It was tough for me when I joined the Pirates,” Christopher recalled to The Pittsburgh Press. “I knew what the fans thought of Clemente and I knew what they expected of me. I was too tense and I just wasn’t ready.”

Christopher went hitless in 12 at-bats, sprained his right hand making a diving catch, jammed an ankle on the base path and was sent back to Columbus in July.

An energizer

At spring training in 1960, Christopher played so well, hitting better than .400, that the Pirates had to put him on the Opening Day roster as a reserve outfielder.

“The only candidate in the last few years to challenge Roberto Clemente as the most exciting player in Pirates camp is Joe Christopher,” The Sporting News declared. “He has speed to burn and has captured the fancy of the fans and his teammates with his head-first slides. He goes from first to third on singles and scores on short sacrifice flies.”

In the 10th inning of a game against the Dodgers on July 1, 1960, Christopher energized the Pirates and the crowd at Forbes Field in Pittsburgh when he scored from second on Clemente’s infield single. The fans “were up screaming at this burst of speed,” The Sporting News reported. Boxscore

Christopher appeared in three games of the 1960 World Series against the Yankees, reached base in his lone plate appearance and scored twice.

After another season with the Pirates as a reserve in 1961, Christopher was chosen by the Mets in the National League expansion draft. “I thought this was the break I was looking for,” Christopher told the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette.

Mets miseries

The 1962 Mets, who would finish the season 40-120, needed talent, and Christopher seemed to be a plus for them, but near the end of spring training he was sent to Class AAA Syracuse to make room on the Opening Day roster for a utility player, rookie Rod Kanehl.

Christopher, 26, resented the demotion. When Syracuse manager Frank Verdi saw him play, he told the Syracuse Post-Standard, “I think he’s the best outfielder the Mets own.”

(According to Dick Young of the New York Daily News, when the Syracuse team went to Atlanta, a Cardinals affiliate in 1962, and checked into the Henry Grady Hotel downtown, Christopher and three black teammates “were told they had to go across town, to the Negro section, where reservations had been made for them. They went, and it was such a fleabag that Christopher refused to check in.”)

Christopher hit .336 with six home runs for Syracuse and was called up to the Mets on May 21 to replace outfielder Gus Bell, who got shipped to the Braves. A week later, in a doubleheader versus the Dodgers, Christopher got three hits against Sandy Koufax in the opener, then tripled and scored versus Johnny Podres in the second game. Boxscore and Boxscore

Another 1962 highlight for Christopher came on Sept. 2 when his two-run single with two outs in the ninth knocked in the winning run against Cardinals reliever Bobby Shantz, a former teammate with the 1961 Pirates. Boxscore

Christopher hit .244 for the 1962 Mets but .346 versus the Cardinals that season. With nine hits and four walks in 30 plate appearances, his on-base percentage against the 1962 Cardinals was .433.

The Mets again sent Christopher to the minors at the end of spring training in 1963. He ended up with more at-bats (295) for Buffalo that year than he did for the Mets (149).

Breakout season

Based on his first two years with the Mets, it’s hard to imagine anyone could have predicted how productive Christopher would become for them in 1964.

He made the team in spring training, hit a home run on Opening Day against the Phillies’ Dennis Bennett and kept on delivering. Christopher batted .375 in April and .321 in May.

On May 8, 1964, he beat the Cardinals’ Bobby Shantz again with a RBI-single in the ninth. Boxscore

In July, Christopher was 7-for-13 at the plate in a three-game series against the Cardinals at New York. A week later, in four games at St. Louis, he was 8-for-18.

Even then, not all went smoothly for Christopher. On July 14, 1964, Billy Cowan of the Cubs lofted a soft fly ball to right at Chicago’s Wrigley Field. It looked to be an easy catch to end the inning, but Christopher struggled to get under the ball. “So crookedly did he run toward the line, any cop worth his badge would have demanded that Christopher take a sobriety test,” Newsday reported.

The ball plopped to the ground, enabling a runner on second to score the winning run and putting Cowan on third with a triple. To Newsday, Mets pitcher Tracy Stallard said of Christopher, “He’s the only .300 hitter I ever saw in my life who hurts a ballclub.” Boxscore

Soon after, Christopher told The Sporting News, “I received a letter from Jackie Robinson in which he wrote that things like that happen in baseball. He told me not to let it bother me but go out and play my game as if nothing had happened. His advice couldn’t have come at a better time. It gave me confidence just when I needed it most.”

On the next-to-last day of the 1964 season, with the Cardinals needing a win to help their bid for a National League pennant, Christopher had three hits, including a home run versus Mike Cuellar, and scored twice in a Mets rout. Boxscore

For the season, Christopher batted .300 and led the Mets in total bases (253), runs scored (78), hits (163), doubles (26), triples (eight), RBI (76), walks (48) on-base percentage (.360) and slugging (.466).

His on-base percentage against the 1964 Cardinals was .431 in 58 plate appearances.

When former Cardinals general manager Bing Devine joined the Mets as assistant to team president George Weiss in October 1964, he told The Sporting News, “Joe Christopher has progressed as a hitter. There’s an example of a fellow who showed what he could do when he got the chance.”

If the spirit’s willing...

Christopher, paid $10,000 in 1964, was offered $12,500 for 1965. He instead wanted a 100 percent raise to $20,000. When he settled for $17,750 on March 9, he was the last Mets player to sign for 1965, the New York Times reported.

His 1965 season was a bust _ he hit .249 and, according to The Sporting News, was “having a fretful time in the field.” _ and when it ended he was traded to the Red Sox for Eddie Bressoud.

After 13 at-bats for the 1966 Red Sox, Christopher was sent in June to the Tigers, who placed him in the minors. He never returned to the big leagues.

In 1967, Christopher, 31, began the season back in the Pirates’ system at Columbus, but on June 10 he was traded to the Cardinals for pitcher Fritz Ackley. The Cardinals assigned Christopher to the Class AAA Tulsa Oilers, whose manager was Warren Spahn. Three years earlier, Christopher hit a home run against Spahn, who was pitching for the 1964 Braves. Boxscore

Christopher joined a Tulsa outfield with another ex-Met, Danny Napoleon. Among the Tulsa pitchers was Christopher’s former teammate and critic, Tracy Stallard.

Christopher hit .273 in 68 games for Tulsa in 1967. He was put on the roster of the Cardinals’ Class AA Arkansas club in 1968. Cardinals farm director George Silvey told the Tulsa World in March 1968 that Christopher would be given a chance to make the Tulsa club, but it didn’t work out. He spent the 1968 season, his last, with a Class AA Phillies farm team at Reading, Pa.

For his 1983 book about former ballplayers, author Edward Kiersh visited Christopher at his Queens, N.Y., apartment. Kiersh described Christopher as a spiritualist involved in astral geometry.

“Through my mathematical system, I can give you the spiritual characterization of any man, or coordinate him to nature,” Christopher said to Kiersh. “Numerology is sacred. You just have to gain entrance into the hidden order, learn the equations, and the potential for any person becomes visible.”

When Kiersh naturally wondered whether Christopher was touting science or hocus-pocus, Christopher told him, “Most people think I’m into some kind of black magic, but baseball spends millions of dollars on a player’s physical attributes while they should be spending it on his spiritual attributes … This isn’t voodoo. This is truth.”

Even as a NFL rookie, Dick Butkus wreaked havoc on the St. Louis Cardinals. In his first regular-season appearance against them, the Chicago Bears middle linebacker intercepted a pass and got into a fight.

An eight-time Pro Bowl selection in nine seasons (1965-73) with the Bears, Butkus prowled the football field “like a hungry grizzly,” the Dallas Morning News noted. “His vicious hits and ferocious demeanor made the middle linebacker position synonymous with pain.”

The Associated Press called him “the most devastating middle linebacker in pro football” during his time in the NFL.

Butkus played in five regular-season games versus the Cardinals, though in one of those he left early because of an injury. He was elected to the Pro Football Hall of Fame in his first year of eligibility.

Humble beginning

Richard Marvin Butkus “was 13 pounds, 6 ounces at birth, the eighth Butkus kid but the first born in a hospital,” according to the Chicago Tribune. He needed to be incubated for a week because his skin turned blue from low oxygen in the blood.

His father, John, an electrician, was a Lithuanian immigrant, according to the Tribune. Mother Emma worked 50 hours a week in a laundry. 

At their four-room home on Chicago’s South Side, Butkus slept in an 8-by-10 room with four brothers, according to the Tribune.

Playing football at Chicago’s Vocational High School, Butkus was a 230-pound fullback and linebacker. He chose the University of Illinois for his college career.

(“Northwestern was … well, they ain’t my kind of people,” Butkus told Sports Illustrated in 1964. “Notre Dame looked too hard.”)

Illini head coach Pete Elliott used him as a linebacker and center. In his junior season, when the Illini were Big Ten Conference champions, Butkus made 145 tackles in 10 games, including 23 versus Ohio State.

The St. Louis Post-Dispatch described him as “a savage tackler whose body slams led to six fumble recoveries for Illinois” in 1963.

On offense, Butkus was an outstanding center, “with his blocks gouging holes in the enemy line for key short yardage plays.”

Staying home

By the end of his senior season in 1964, Butkus was regarded the top defensive player eligible to turn pro. At that time, the National Football League and American Football League were rivals and held separate drafts.

With the first pick in the 1965 NFL draft, the New York Giants said they considered taking Butkus but went instead for Auburn’s Tucker Frederickson “because he is the best all-around fullback in the country,” team executive Wellington Mara told the Chicago Tribune.

The San Francisco 49ers, picking second, selected North Carolina running back Ken Willard.

Counting their lucky stars, the Bears, who had the third and fourth picks in the first round, went with Butkus and Kansas running back Gale Sayers. “We’ve been after Butkus ever since he led Illinois to the Big Ten title,” Bears head coach George Halas told the Tribune. “We’ve got to have him. He’s a great one.”

(With the 12th pick in the first round, the Cardinals took Alabama quarterback Joe Namath. Opting for Broadway rather than Lindbergh Boulevard, Namath signed with the AFL’s New York Jets.)

The Jets had visions of signing both Namath and Butkus. After the Denver Broncos took Butkus in the AFL draft, they gave their rights to him to the Jets.

“Most people think that I am already sewed up for the Bears,” Butkus said to the Tribune. “They can think it if they want to, but it isn’t so. As far as I’m concerned, it’s still wide open.”

Chicago attorney Arthur Morse, who represented Butkus in negotiations, told the Tribune that the Jets made an offer which “I would have to consider more substantial than that of the Bears.”

Butkus signed with the Bears anyway. “I had a big offer from the New York Jets to go to the AFL,” Butkus told the New York Times, “but I accepted less money to play with the Bears just because they were in Chicago where I grew up.”

Seeing Big Red

In the ninth game of his rookie season in 1965, Butkus faced the Cardinals at Wrigley Field in Chicago. He contributed to a defense that harassed quarterback Charley Johnson, who was sacked four times.

In the fourth quarter, Butkus intercepted a Johnson pass and returned the ball 38 yards to the St. Louis 6-yard line. “Butkus was barging over one Cardinal after another until he finally came crashing down in a heap with guard Ken Gray,” the Tribune reported. “Gray and Butkus had been tiffing, mostly with censored language, all afternoon, but on this occasion it went beyond words.”

Butkus and Gray squared off in a fight, the Post-Dispatch reported. The Bears won, 34-13. Game stats

The next year, with the Bears at St. Louis on Halloween night, Butkus got in for only a few plays before he was injured, according to the Post-Dispatch. An understudy, Mike Reilly, replaced him, but, as the Tribune noted, “Nobody backs up the line with Butkus’ violence.” Johnny Roland rushed for two touchdowns and the Cardinals won, 24-17. Game stats

Butkus and the Bears defense were at their best on Nov. 19, 1967, against the Cardinals at Wrigley Field. The Bears intercepted seven passes (five from Jim Hart and one each from Charley Johnson and running back Johnny Roland) and recovered two fumbles in a 30-3 victory.

“Hart, pressured by the Bears blitz and often hit hard after he got off his passes, was off target,” the Post-Dispatch reported. “Several times he threw directly to Bears defenders, who could have had a few more interceptions if they had held the ball.”

Years later, recalling the game for Sports Illustrated, Roland said, “I have a bruise under my lip to this day where he (Butkus) shattered my mask.” Game stats

Making of a legend

Stories about Butkus’ bruising antics became part of NFL lore.

A Bears teammate, Doug Buffone, told Dan Pompei of the Tribune, “I used to line up at the outside linebacker position and look inside. I’d see him hulking over the center. He always had a little blood trickling down his face. I don’t know if he would cut himself or what, but I’d always say to myself, ‘Thank you, Lord, he’s on my side.’ “

With about a minute to go in a game the Bears were losing big, the Detroit Lions had first down and were intending to run out the clock. After the first play, Butkus called a timeout.

“We line up,” Buffone recalled. “He is over the top of the center, Ed Flanagan, then takes five steps back. The center snaps it and Dick comes running 100 mph and just smashes the center. Then he jumped up and called timeout again. He just wanted three more cracks at the center before the game ended.”

In a 1969 exhibition game against the Miami Dolphins, Butkus got into a brawl and was ejected by referee Red Morcroft, who accused Butkus of biting his finger during the melee, causing it to bleed. “If I bit his finger,” Butkus said to United Press International, “he wouldn’t have it on his hand now.”

According to the Tribune, during a game versus the Bears, Lions running back Altie Taylor saw Butkus closing in on him and stepped out of bounds to avoid being walloped. Enraged, Butkus kept chasing him around the perimeter of the field. “That man’s crazy,” Taylor told teammate Charlie Sanders.

The image Butkus created helped make him famous, but it wasn’t the full picture. He read Shakespeare after being introduced to the playwright’s work by Robert Billings, a Chicago Daily News reporter. He also got into acting (he spent half his life residing in Malibu, Calif.) and enjoyed watching classic movies. He married his high school sweetheart in 1963 and they remained together.

“Butkus has been caricatured as a monosyllabic creature who communicates only by grunts and groans and savage growls, a half man, half beast,” the Tribune noted.

Asked about his persona as a brute, Butkus told the newspaper, “I was just saying shit to go along with what everybody wanted. It actually was playing a role.”

On the ball

On Sept. 28, 1969, at St. Louis, Butkus blocked a Jim Bakken extra-point attempt (ending the kicker’s streak of converting 97 in a row). Bakken’s left shoulder got battered when Butkus crashed into him. “Sometimes you get mad at that Butkus, but you’ve got to respect him,” Cardinals head coach Charley Winner told the Post-Dispatch. “He makes the big play all the time.”

The Cardinals won the game, 20-17. Game stats

(In an exhibition game between the Bears and Cardinals on Aug. 29, 1970, four 15-yard personal foul penalties were called on Butkus, the Post-Dispatch reported.)

Butkus opposed the Cardinals for the final time on Oct. 29, 1972, at St. Louis. He led a defense that rattled quarterback Tim Van Galder (intercepted three times, sacked twice) in a 27-10 Bears triumph. Game stats

Restricted by a damaged right knee, Butkus, 30, called it quits after the ninth game of the 1973 season.

Butkus had four years remaining on a five-year contract. When he and the Bears were unable to come to terms on a payout, he sued them for breach of contract. In the lawsuit, Butkus said extensive injections of cortisone and other drugs caused irreparable damage to his right knee and that he had not been advised what the long-term effects of the drugs might be, the Associated Press reported.

In 1976, the Bears agreed to pay Butkus $600,000 to settle the suit.

Because of the conflict, Butkus and George Halas didn’t speak for several years. Then, in 1979, Butkus asked Halas, 84, to autograph a copy of the retired coach’s autobiography. According to the Tribune, Halas wrote, “To Dick Butkus, the greatest player in the history of the Bears. You had that old zipperoo.” Video highlights

A right-handed knuckleball specialist, Tim Wakefield had 200 wins in the majors. The first came against the Cardinals. It was the only time he beat them.

The Cardinals and St. Louis were involved in two other prominent games in Wakefield’s career:

_ His only World Series appearance, for the Red Sox in 2004, was a start against the Cardinals in Game 1.

_ His only selection to an All-Star Game was in 2009 at St. Louis.

Wakefield pitched 19 seasons in the majors _ two with the Pirates; 17 with the Red Sox _ and supported many charities, including those helping children with cancer.

Change in course

Born and raised on the Space Coast in Melbourne, Fla., 25 miles from Cape Canaveral, Wakefield learned how to throw a knuckleball during backyard tosses with his father, Stephen, according to Florida Today.

Attending a hometown college, Florida Tech, Wakefield was a first baseman for the baseball team. His 22 home runs and .798 slugging percentage as a sophomore in 1987 remain single-season school records.

Picked by the Pirates in the eighth round of the 1988 draft, Wakefield went to their farm club in Waterford, N.Y., and hit .189 as a first baseman. The adjustment from metal bats in college to wood ones in the pros was one reason Wakefield struggled. Another was the loss of a grandfather, Lester Wakefield, who died of cancer at 71 in June 1988 soon after Wakefield was drafted. “After that, I had a problem dealing with baseball and life in general,” Wakefield recalled to The Sporting News. “After a while, I thought about quitting the game.”

Assigned to Augusta, Ga., in 1989, Wakefield hit .235 in 11 games and was demoted to Welland, Canada, a club managed by former Royals shortstop U.L. Washington. Wakefield was tried at second base and third base, but it didn’t help his hitting.

Playing catch on the sidelines, Wakefield fooled around with the knuckleball taught by his father. Wanting to know whether he could throw the pitch for strikes, the Pirates made him a pitcher. “It was a hard thing to do at first because you feel like you failed as a hitter,” Wakefield told the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, “but it’s not often you get a second chance to redeem yourself.”

Wakefield pitched in 18 games for Welland and the Pirates liked what they saw. He worked his way up the farm system. In 1992, Pirates minor league pitching instructor Pete Vuckovich, the former Cardinal, tabbed Wakefield as a potential big-league prospect, The Sporting News reported.

During spring training in March 1992, White Sox knuckleballer Charlie Hough, 44, was asked by a Pirates staffer to meet with Wakefield and offer advice. Hough and Wakefield chatted for 20 minutes and played catch in jeans and T-shirts behind a fence at the White Sox training camp in Sarasota, Fla. “He showed Wakefield a few things from his own grip,” the Boston Globe reported.

Assigned to the Class AAA Buffalo Bisons in 1992, Wakefield was 10-3 in 20 starts. When Pirates pitcher Zane Smith went on the disabled list in late July, Wakefield got promoted to Pittsburgh to replace him.

Prime time

Wakefield’s big-league debut against the Cardinals at Pittsburgh’s Three Rivers Stadium came on a Friday night, July 31, 1992, two days before he turned 26.

With St. Louis starting right-hander Jose DeLeon, former Cardinal Mike LaValliere (who batted left-handed) normally would be the Pirates catcher, but Pittsburgh manager Jim Leyland opted instead for Don Slaught, who had experience catching Charlie Hough’s knuckleball when both played with the Rangers.

It was a windy night in Pittsburgh and that made Wakefield’s knuckleball especially elusive. “I was actually diving for balls that were (called) strikes,” Slaught said to the Post-Dispatch.

Pirates center fielder and ex-Cardinal Andy Van Slyke told the St. Louis newspaper that he had trouble anticipating where a batter would hit Wakefield’s knuckler. “His pitch was moving so much I sometimes had to break twice,” Van Slyke said. “I’d break to left-center and then I’d break to right-center.”

In the second inning, the Cardinals had runners on first and third, none out, but Wakefield struck out Luis Alicea and Tom Pagnozzi, and then Slaught threw out Todd Zeile attempting to swipe second.

The Cardinals had two on with one out in the third, but the threat fizzled when Ray Lankford and Felix Jose were retired.

With the help of an error, the Cardinals scored twice in the fifth and had the bases loaded with two outs, but Wakefield struck out Zeile looking on a 3-and-2 knuckler. “When they got guys in scoring position, he stuck with his knuckleball and threw it for strikes,” Slaught told the Post-Dispatch.

Backed by home runs from Barry Bonds and Jay Bell, Wakefield went the distance and the Pirates won, 3-2. Wakefield issued five walks and threw three wild pitches, but he also struck out 10, including Zeile and Ozzie Smith twice each. “You can be embarrassed by a knuckleballer,” Zeile told the Post-Dispatch. Boxscore

The Cardinals were not alone in being baffled by the rookie. Wakefield was 8-1 with a 2.15 ERA for the 1992 Pirates, who won a division title. Asked to name his club’s pitching rotation for the playoffs, Pirates general manager Ted Simmons told the Associated Press, “(Doug) Drabek, (Danny) Jackson and The Miracle.”

In the National League Championship Series versus the Braves, Wakefield worked his wonders. Matched against future Hall of Famer Tom Glavine in Games 3 and 6, Wakefield won both. Boxscore and Boxscore

Former Braves knuckleballer Phil Niekro told The Sporting News, “You don’t hit a good knuckleball. If you do, it’s by luck.”

Feeling lost

Wakefield threw a lot of bad knuckleballs in 1993. He was winless in May and his ERA for June was 7.62. In July, the Pirates sent him to the minors.

“The magic of Wakefield’s knuckleball deserted him,” the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette observed. “When he had his good knuckleball, he couldn’t seem to throw it for strikes. When his pitch wasn’t moving, it was hit hard.”

Wakefield was assigned to the Class AA Carolina Mudcats because their pitching coach was the aptly named Spin Williams, “who helped him most when he developed his knuckleball in the minor leagues,” the Post-Gazette reported.

The Pirates brought Wakefield back in September 1993 and he lost three consecutive starts, including one against the Cardinals, Boxscore but then he closed with shutouts of the Cubs and Phillies. For the season, Wakefield was 6-11 with a 5.61 ERA with Pittsburgh.

Afterward, Wakefield had surgery to remove bone chips from his right elbow. He was ineffective at spring training in 1994. “After the surgery, I just lost a feel for the knuckleball,” he told the Post-Gazette. “When you cut somebody open, a lot of muscle memory is lost.”

He spent the 1994 season in the minors, with Buffalo, and was 5-15 with a 5.84 ERA. Wakefield was 28 when the Pirates released him in April 1995.

Striking it rich

Red Sox general manager Dan Duquette was the only one to put in a claim for Wakefield. The Red Sox hired Phil Niekro and his brother, fellow knuckleball master Joe Niekro, to work with Wakefield. They noticed Wakefield was aiming instead of throwing the knuckler. “You’ve got to be a gorilla when you throw the knuckleball,” Phil Niekro told Florida Today. “Mentally, inside, you’ve got to have that edge.”

Wakefield went to the minors, pitched well and was called up to the Red Sox in May 1995.

Then the magic, like a miracle, came back. In his first 17 starts for the 1995 Red Sox, Wakefield was 14-1 with a 1.65 ERA.

“No one, not Hoyt Wilhelm, not Phil Niekro, not anyone, was ever as unhittable while throwing a knuckleball as Wakefield was from late May to mid August of 1995,” columnist Bob Ryan exclaimed in the Boston Globe.

(Note: Knuckleball reliever Barney Schultz had a 1.64 ERA in 30 appearances after being called up from the minors in August, helping the 1964 Cardinals become World Series champions.)

When Florida Today reporter David Jones went to Boston in August 1995 to report on Wakefield’s phenomenal comeback, he noted that the knuckleballer “is more like a rock star than a major league baseball player … Wakefield is a hotter dish than lobster and clam chowder this summer.”

Marveling at the club’s good fortune in acquiring Wakefield, Red Sox left fielder Mike Greenwell told Florida Today, “There was a pile of rocks and we found gold.”

Highlight reel

Wakefield had double-digit win seasons 11 times in his 17 seasons with the Red Sox. (His career record: 200-180.) Video

He started Game 1 of the 2004 World Series against the Cardinals at Boston and was ineffective, allowing five runs in 3.2 innings. The Red Sox broke a 9-9 tie in the eighth and won, 11-9. Boxscore

In 2007, when Wakefield was a 17-game winner, a shoulder injury prevented him from pitching in the World Series that fall against the Rockies.

Wakefield was named an all-star for the only time in 2009, but was not one of the eight pitchers used by manager Joe Maddon in the American League’s 4-3 triumph at St. Louis. Boxscore

Helping others

Wakefield’s popularity in New England had as much to do with his persona _ humble, accessible, generous _ as it did with his success on the mound.

In 2003, Florida Today’s Peter Kerasotis wrote, “Wakefield has donated six figure sums to the Space Coast Early Intervention Center. (Later renamed the Space Coast Discovery Academy for Promising Futures.) He also has donated six figures to Florida Tech, basically keeping baseball a sport there. Up in Boston, he stays active, too, not only helping children with cancer, but also donating money to the Make-A-Wish Foundation every time he strikes someone out or gets a victory.”

In a fitting tribute, Florida Tech’s Web site described Wakefield as “a gifted athlete and compassionate soul whose magic with the baseball was surpassed only by his generosity, kindness and selfless service to his native Space Coast and adopted New England home.”