Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Carl Warwick seemed an unlikely candidate to shine for the Cardinals in the 1964 World Series.

A week before the season ended, Warwick suffered a fractured cheekbone when he was struck by a line drive during pregame drills. He underwent surgery the next day.

After the Cardinals clinched the National League pennant in the season finale, manager Johnny Keane opted to put Warwick on the World Series roster as a pinch-hitter, even though he hadn’t swung a bat in a game in almost two weeks.

Warwick delivered, with three pinch-hit singles, two of which contributed to wins against the Yankees, and helped the Cardinals become World Series champions.

An outfielder who played for the Dodgers (1961), Cardinals (1961-62, 1964-65), Colt .45s (1962-63), Orioles (1965) and Cubs (1966), Warwick was 88 when he died on April 5, 2025.

Left and right

After leading Texas Christian University in hitting (.361) as a junior in 1957, Warwick got married and planned to start a family. So when Dodgers scout Hugh Alexander offered a contract in excess of $30,000, Warwick signed in December 1957, opting to skip his senior season. “I figured one year in pro ball would be worth more than a final year in college,” Warwick told the Austin American.

(Warwick earned a business administration degree from Texas Christian in 1961.)

He was the rare ballplayer who threw left and batted right. “I’m a natural southpaw,” Warwick said to the Los Angeles Mirror, “but as long as I can remember I’ve always picked up a bat with my right hand and hit right-handed.”

(Before Warwick, big-leaguers who threw left and batted right included outfielders Rube Bressler and Johnny Cooney, and first baseman Hal Chase.)

Though listed as 5-foot-10 and 170 pounds, Warwick looked shorter and lighter. As Joe Heiling of the Austin American noted, “Carl didn’t fill the popular image of a slugger. His shoulders weren’t broad as the side of a barn.”

In college, Warwick hit drives straightaway and to the gaps. To hit with power in the pros, he’d need to learn to pull the ball, said Danny Ozark, his manager at Class A Macon (Ga.). Taught by Ozark how to get out in front of pitches with his swing, Warwick walloped 22 home runs for Macon in 1958.

Moved up to Class AA Victoria (Texas) in 1959, Warwick roomed with future American League home run champion Frank Howard and tore up the Texas League, hitting .331 with 35 homers and scoring 129 runs. Victoria manager Pete Reiser, the St. Louis native and former Dodgers outfielder, rated Warwick a better all-around prospect than Howard.

“Carl can play there (in the majors) sooner than Howard,” Reiser told the Austin American. “Carl has a better knowledge of the strike zone than Howard and he’s starting to hit the curveball. To me, that’s a sign that a hitter is coming into his own. You won’t find any better than Carl. Defensively, there’s not too many better than him in the minors or big leagues. He can go get the ball.”

Climbing another notch to Class AAA in 1960, Warwick was a standout for St. Paul (Minn.), with 104 runs scored and double digits in doubles (27), triples (11) and homers (19).

Seeking a chance

Warwick, 24, opened the 1961 season with the Dodgers, who were loaded with outfielders. A couple were veterans (Wally Moon, Duke Snider); most, like Warwick, hadn’t reached their primes (Tommy Davis, Willie Davis, Don Demeter, Ron Fairly, Frank Howard). In May, the Dodgers sent Warwick and Bob Lillis to the Cardinals for Daryl Spencer. According to the St. Louis Globe-Democrat, Cardinals manager Solly Hemus called Warwick the “key man for us” in the deal and named him the center fielder, replacing Curt Flood. “Warwick fits into our future plans very well,” Hemus told the Los Angeles Mirror.

Warwick’s first hit for the Cardinals was a home run he pulled over the fence in left against Bob Buhl of the Braves at Milwaukee. Of his first 12 hits for St. Louis, seven were for extra bases _ four doubles, one triple, two homers. Boxscore

Harry Walker, the Cardinals’ hitting coach, didn’t want Warwick swinging for the fences, though, and suggested he alter his approach.

“He said I didn’t have the power to hit the ball out,” Warwick told the Austin American. “He said I wasn’t strong enough. He wanted me to punch the ball to right field. After you’ve been hitting a certain way so long, it’s hard to change. He made me go to a heavier bat with a thicker handle.”

Out of sync, Warwick said he tried hitting one way in batting practice, then another in games. On July 4, his season average for the Cardinals dropped to .217. Two days later, Solly Hemus was fired and replaced by Johnny Keane, who reinstated Flood in center. Warwick was dispatched to the minors. “We’re sending him out so that he’ll have a chance to play every day the rest of the season,” Keane told the Globe-Democrat.

Houston calling

The next year, Warwick figured to stay busy with the 1962 Cardinals subbing for their geriatric outfielders, Minnie Minoso in left and Stan Musial in right. (“Our outfield has Old Taylor and Ancient Age with a little Squirt for a chaser,” Flood quipped to the St. Louis Post-Dispatch.)

However, when an expansion club, the Houston Colt .45s, offered the Cardinals a pitcher they’d long coveted, Bobby Shantz, they couldn’t resist. On May 7, 1962, the Cardinals swapped Warwick and John Anderson for Shantz.

The trade was ill-timed for the Cardinals. Four days later, Minoso fractured his skull and right wrist when he crashed into a wall trying to snare a drive.

Warwick became Houston’s center fielder. In his first appearance in St. Louis after the trade, he produced four hits and a walk, including four RBI against Bob Gibson with a two-run double and a two-run homer. (For his career, Warwick hit .333 versus Gibson.) Boxscore

In addition to Gibson, Warwick also homered against Don Drysdale, Sandy Koufax and Juan Marichal that season.

When Cardinals general manager Bing Devine had a chance to reacquire Warwick, he swapped Jim Beauchamp and Chuck Taylor for him on Feb. 17, 1964.

Shifting roles

On Opening Day in 1964 against the Dodgers’ Sandy Koufax, Warwick was the Cardinals’ right fielder, with Flood in center and Charlie James in left. Boxscore

After two months, the club determined an outfield overhaul was needed. Flood remained, but Lou Brock was acquired from the Cubs in June to replace James and Mike Shannon was promoted from the minors in July to take over in right. Warwick primarily became a pinch-hitter.

He went to Cardinals coach Red Schoendienst and pinch-hitter deluxe Jerry Lynch of the Pirates for advice on how to perform the role. “Both of them agree you’ve got to be ready to attack the ball,” Warwick told Newsday.

On Sept. 27, 1964, before a game at Pittsburgh, Warwick was walking to the sidelines from the outfield during warmup drills when a line drive from a fungo bat swung by pitcher Ron Taylor struck him in the face, fracturing his right cheekbone. The next day, in St. Louis, Cardinals surgeon Dr. I.C. Middleman and plastic surgeon Dr. Francis Paletta performed an operation to repair the damage.

When the World Series began on Oct. 7 in St. Louis, Warwick was on the Cardinals’ roster, even though he hadn’t played in a game since Sept. 23. He also hadn’t produced a RBI since Aug. 2 or a home run since May 8.

However, as Keane explained to columnist Bob Broeg, “Pinch-hitting, Carl is extremely aggressive.”

Big hits

With the score tied at 4-4 in the sixth inning of World Series Game 1 at St. Louis, the Cardinals had Tim McCarver on second, two outs, when Warwick was sent to bat for pitcher Ray Sadecki. As Warwick stepped to the plate against the Yankees’ Al Downing, “my head was aching and my (scarred) cheek was hurting,” he later told United Press International.

Warwick whacked Downing’s first pitch past shortstop Phil Linz for a single, scoring McCarver and putting the Cardinals ahead to stay. St. Louis won, 9-5. Video, Boxscore

“I went up there with the idea of swinging at the first one if it was anywhere close,” Warwick told the Post-Dispatch. “I was looking for a fastball and I got one.”

In Game 2, Warwick, batting for second baseman Dal Maxvill in the eighth, singled and scored against Mel Stottlemyre. Batting again for Maxvill in Game 3, Warwick was walked by Jim Bouton.

The Cardinals, though, were in trouble. The Yankees won two of the first three and led, 3-0, in Game 4 at Yankee Stadium as Downing limited the Cardinals to one hit through five innings.

Needing a spark, Warwick provided one. Sent to bat for pitcher Roger Craig leading off the sixth, Warwick stroked a single on Downing’s second pitch to him.

“I seem to carry a different attitude up there coming cold off the bench,” Warwick told Joe Donnelly of Newsday. “I wouldn’t call it confidence. I come up there swinging. You’ve only got three swings. I don’t want to pass up an opportunity.”

The Cardinals loaded the bases with two outs before Ken Boyer clouted a Downing changeup for a grand slam and a 4-3 triumph. Video, Boxscore

Warwick’s three hits as a pinch-hitter tied a World Series record. The Yankees’ Bobby Brown (1947) and the Giants’ Dusty Rhodes (1954) also produced three pinch-hits in one World Series. Since then, Gonzalo Marquez of the Athletics (1972) and Ken Boswell of the Mets (1973) matched the mark.

(Allen Craig of the Cardinals had four career World Series pinch-hits _ two in 2011 and two more in 2013 _ but not three in one World Series.)

With a chance for a record fourth pinch-hit, Warwick batted for Maxvill in Game 6 but Bouton got him to pop out to third baseman Clete Boyer.

The Cardinals clinched the championship in Game 7, but for Warwick the good vibes didn’t last long. Bob Howsam, who replaced Bing Devine as Cardinals general manager, sent Warwick a contract calling for a $1,000 pay cut. “An insult,” Warwick told the Associated Press.

The magic of 1964 was gone in 1965. Warwick had one hit in April, one more in May and entered June with an .077 batting average. In July, the Cardinals shipped him to the Orioles, who traded him to the Cubs the following spring.

Bing Devine, who as Cardinals general manager twice traded for Warwick, became Mets general manager and acquired him again. Warwick, 29, was invited to try out at 1967 spring training for a reserve spot with the Mets but declined, opting to embark on a real estate career.

Looking for a good time in St. Louis when their team came to play the Cardinals, Reds fans rolled out the barrels and got busted.

One hundred years ago, in April 1925, Reds owner Garry Herrmann and seven others associated with the Reds Rooters fan club were arrested at the Hotel Statler for possessing real beer.

Home to breweries such as Anheuser-Busch and Falstaff, St. Louis was synonymous with suds, but not during the Prohibition era in the U.S.

Herrmann and the Reds Rooters found out the hard way when federal agents raided their roost before a game.

Dry land

Influenced by repressive religious groups, particularly Christian denominations, and temperance organizations, federal lawmakers approved an amendment to the Constitution that prohibited the production, importation, transportation and sale of alcoholic beverages. The Prohibition era lasted from 1920 to 1933 and prompted gangsters to fill the void with violent bootlegging businesses.

In his book “Mr. Rickey’s Redbirds,” author Mike Mitchell noted, “The battle over Prohibition pitted rural versus urban, Protestant versus Catholic, native-born Americans versus newly arrived immigrants … War gave a final push toward a national prohibition. Those who wanted to ban alcohol often made no distinction between America’s enemies in World War I and brewers in the United States with European heritage.”

St. Louis breweries Anheuser-Busch and Falstaff survived Prohibition by producing near beer, a malt beverage which typically had an alcohol content of less than 0.5 percent, and other products, such as soda pop. (The Anheuser-Busch near beer was called Bevo.) Most other St. Louis beer producers, including Lemp, a major lager brewer, went out of business.

Prohibition didn’t stop the Reds Rooters from carrying on a tradition of traveling to the city where the team played its first road series of the season. About 110 of them went by train from Cincinnati to St. Louis for the four-game set between the Reds and Cardinals April 22-25, 1925.

Beer and bratwurst

The Reds Rooters booked rooms at the elegant Hotel Statler at the corner of Washington Avenue and Ninth Street in downtown St. Louis. Built in 1917, Hotel Statler was the first air-conditioned hotel in the United States.

Another feature of the grand hotel was its 17th floor, which was designated for sample rooms used by traveling salesmen to display products. The Reds Rooters reserved the entire floor and converted it into a party clubhouse for their stay.

According to the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, the Reds Rooters brought with them “several kegs of sauerkraut, barrels of pickles and great quantities of sausages, pretzels and cheeses.”

That’s not all. To quench their thirst, the Cincinnatians also brought 25 half barrels of beer. Real beer.

An informant tipped off John Dyott, special assistant attorney general in charge of federal Prohibition cases, that the Reds Rooters were guzzling illegal brew. Dyott contacted federal law enforcement agents and ordered them to investigate.

At 1:30 p.m. on April 24, 1925, four agents arrived on the 17th floor, where they found 40 Reds Rooters about to leave for the ballpark, the Post-Dispatch reported. The Cincinnati group included Reds owner Garry Herrmann.

Down the drain

Orphaned at age 11, August Herrmann had worked as an errand boy filling salt stacks and then as a printer’s apprentice, where he got the nickname Garibaldi (shortened to Garry), according to the National Baseball Hall of Fame. He went into politics, becoming a Cincinnati city administrator, and rose to prominence with his creation of a modern waterworks system.

Herrmann was the life of any party. According to the Cincinnati Enquirer, “He was considered the greatest host in Cincinnati and he entertained his friends lavishly.”

In the raid on the Reds Rooters, agents found two half kegs of beer on tap and 11 more half kegs in an ice box waiting to be tapped, the Post-Dispatch reported. After taking samples for analysis, the agents poured all the brew down the drain.

Tests showed the beer had a 3.94 percent alcohol by volume (ABV) and qualified as illegal real beer, the St. Louis Star-Times reported. (Before Prohibition, a typical ABV for beer was 4.5 percent to 6 percent. In the early 1930s, a weaker, 3.2 percent beer gained prominence as a legal alternative in states that repealed dry laws before federal Prohibition ended.)

“We were under the impression that the stuff was near beer,” Herrmann told the Star-Times. “It was just an unfortunate mistake.”

Herrmann, five members of the Reds Rooters who were in charge of the arrangements, and two employees of the group were arrested on federal warrants charging possession of intoxicating alcohol. Herrmann posted a bond of $500 immediately after the warrant was served on him. A hearing in federal court in St. Louis was set back to the fall.

Costly pitchers

In October 1925, Herrmann led a contingent of Cincinnatians to Pittsburgh for the World Series between the Senators and Pirates. According to columnist Westbrook Pegler, when Herrmann arrived at Hotel Schenley, friends approached and asked, “Where are the kegs?” Herrmann replied, “Ever since that time they took the kegs away from the Cincinnati boys in St. Louis, I go without kegs.”

Later that month, Herrmann and the other defendants appeared for their hearing in the St. Louis courtroom of U.S. district judge Charles Breckenridge Faris, a former prosecutor who was appointed by President Woodrow Wilson in 1919.

Charges against Herrmann and the five members of the Reds Rooters were dismissed on the grounds that they were not in physical possession of beer when the agents raided the clubroom.

The two Reds Rooters employees, John Rosskopf and Leonard Schwab, who were in their shirt sleeves and wearing the aprons of bartenders when the agents came, pleaded guilty to charges of possession of alcohol. Each was fined $390.

According to testimony reported in the St. Louis newspapers, agents said they saw Rosskopf at a tapped keg with a foaming pitcher of beer in his hand and Schwab also had a pitcher filled with suds.

After the hearing, Herrmann told the Post-Dispatch, “We feel no malice toward St. Louis for our difficulties in this case. You can tell the world the Reds Rooters are still loyal. They’ll be back in the spring.”

During his time with the Cardinals, Juan Gonzalez lived up to his nickname, but not in the way he and the team hoped.

Invited to try out for a spot as an outfielder on the 2008 Cardinals, Gonzalez was Juan Gone _ as in, headed home _ before spring training ended.

In his heyday with the Rangers, Gonzalez was called Juan Gone because balls he hit frequently were sent into orbit and gone out of sight.

When he came to the Cardinals, though, Gonzalez, 38, looked different than he did in his prime. Gone was the bulk he had when he twice led the American League in home runs. Gone was a lot of the swagger, too.

Suspected in the 1990s of using banned performance-enhancing steroids to help him become one of the most powerful hitters, Gonzalez was trying to return to the majors for the first time in three years. The Cardinals, a haven for players linked to performing-enhancing drugs, welcomed him.

Great expectations

“Using a broomstick as a bat and a bottle cap as a ball on the dusty streets of Vega Baja,” Gonzalez developed into a baseball standout as a youth in Puerto Rico, according to the Los Angeles Times. His boyhood nickname was Igor because of his fascination with a professional wrestler of the same name.

At 16, when he was signed by Rangers scout Luis Rosa in May 1986, Gonzalez was “tall and gangly but with athleticism and serious bat speed,” according to MLB.com’s T.R. Sullivan.

The Rangers brought Gonzalez to Florida, where he was introduced by scouting director Sandy Johnson as the “next Babe Ruth,” and put in the outfield alongside 17-year-old Sammy Sosa on their Gulf Coast League rookie team. As Fort Worth Star-Telegram columnist Randy Galloway noted, “Babe Ruth’s bat had to have been heavier than young Juan.”

Three years later, Gonzalez, 19, made his big-league debut. He was 22 when he won his first American League home run crown. In April 1994, the Fort Worth newspaper did a story speculating whether Gonzalez would break Hank Aaron’s career record of 755. Gonzalez had 121.

Gonzalez also twice received the AL Most Valuable Player Award _ in 1996 (.314 batting mark, 47 homers, 144 RBI) and in 1998 (.318, 45 homers, 157 RBI). That 1998 season was his best. Gonzalez had 101 RBI before the all-star break and his final total of 157 were the most in the American League since 1949 Red Sox teammates Vern Stephens and Ted Williams each had 159. Gonzalez also scored 110 runs and produced 50 doubles.

“Juan in a million,” the Fort Worth Star-Telegram declared.

Success didn’t always bring happiness, however. Gonzalez was married and divorced three times before he turned 25. One of the failed marriages was to the sister of Braves catcher Javy Lopez. (A fourth marriage, to pop singer Olga Tanon, also resulted in divorce.)

“His mistakes, I think, were from a lack of education,” Luis Mayoral, the Rangers’ Latin American liaison and Gonzalez’s confidant, told Mike DiGiovanna of the Los Angeles Times. “He didn’t know what he needed to cope with fame and fortune.”

Columnist Randy Galloway noted, “No one who knows Gonzalez calls him a bad person. He’s not. He can be immature, he can pout, he can be unreasonable at times, and he can make stupid decisions.”

He also had a philanthropic side to him. In 1998, Gil LeBreton of the Fort Worth newspaper wrote, “In his old neighborhood on the rugged streets of Vega Baja, Gonzalez has opened a standing account with the local pharmacy. For those who can’t pay for their prescriptions, Juan will buy the medicine.”

Other Gonzalez projects included a $50,000 donation to build a youth ballpark in southeast Dallas; the purchase of Rangers tickets for underprivileged youngsters from 1995-99; donations for every RBI to Literacy Instruction for Texas reading and writing program from 1997-99; a $25,000 donation to help victims of Hurricane George.

Cheating with chemicals

In his book “Juiced,” Jose Canseco said he introduced Gonzalez to banned performance-enhancing drugs when they were Rangers teammates from 1992-94. Canseco said he injected Gonzalez with the steroids. Canseco was traded to the Rangers from the Athletics, where he played for manager Tony La Russa. In his book, Canseco said he injected Athletics teammate Mark McGwire with banned performance-enhancing drugs and witnessed McGwire and Jason Giambi administer needles to one another.

Rangers owner Tom Hicks told the Associated Press in June 2007 that he suspected Gonzalez used banned steroids when he was with the team. “His number of injuries and early retirement just makes me suspicious,” Hicks said.

In the December 2007 Mitchell Report, an investigation into the use of anabolic steroids and human growth hormone in big-league baseball, Gonzalez was linked to a bag of steroids discovered during a search at the Toronto airport in 2001.

The 2001 season was Gonzalez’s last big year in the majors. He hit .325 with 35 homers and 140 RBI for the Indians that season. After that, his body broke down. Injuries to his hamstrings, hands, shoulders and back cut short his seasons with the Rangers in 2002 and 2003, and with the Royals in 2004.

Gonzalez, 35, rejoined the Indians for spring training in 2005 but injured a hamstring while making a catch on the same day that manager Eric Wedge named him the starting right fielder. In his first game back with the Indians on May 31, Gonzalez injured the hamstring again while running to first base in the first inning. He never played in another big-league game.

Hear no evil, see no evil

The big-league totals for Gonzalez included 434 home runs and 1,404 RBI. In February 2007, he told USA Today he hoped to return to the majors and reach 500 homers. “That’s still my goal and I remain confident I will attain it,” he said.

To get himself into condition for a comeback, Gonzalez attended a training program in Puerto Rico operated by ex-Cardinal Eduardo Perez. “He really never stopped playing,” Perez told Derrick Goold of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. “He looks great, like he hasn’t missed a beat. His legs look strong. Once a hitter, always a hitter.”

Perez recommended Gonzalez to Cardinals manager Tony La Russa. “You’re going to see a very humble guy,” Perez told the Post-Dispatch. “It’s a lot different than before. He just wants to prove he can still play.”

Intrigued, the Cardinals signed Gonzalez to a minor-league contract in February 2008 and invited him to compete at spring training for a role on the big-league club. The deal called for him to be paid $750,000 if he made the big-league team.

“We all know what he was in his prime,” La Russa told the Post-Dispatch. “He had one of the most gorgeous swings around.”

Cardinals general manager John Mozeliak said to reporter Joe Strauss, “There’s not a great deal of risk involved, but there is the potential for significant upside.”

Actually, there was a risk _ to the Cardinals’ image _ because club management looked like enablers, or protectors, for users of performance-enhancing drugs.

In December 2006, La Russa urged the Cardinals to sign free agent Barry Bonds. Even without Bonds, the Cardinals at 2008 spring training had five players (more than any other team) who were implicated in the Mitchell Report: Rick Ankiel, Ryan Franklin, Troy Glaus, Juan Gonzalez and Ron Villone. Also, La Russa had given Mark McGwire, whose use of banned performance-enhancing drugs created a fraudulent pursuit of the single-season home record, an open invitation to join the Cardinals that spring as an instructor.

Eyes wide shut

Here are excerpts from a February 2008 interview Post-Dispatch columnist Bryan Burwell did with La Russa at spring training:

Burwell: Does it bother you that there’s a perception that you give safe harbor to steroid guys?

La Russa: “No, and I’ll tell you why not … I know there isn’t anything we’ve done in all those years that was _ with one small exception where we stole signs, a little hiccup _ there isn’t anything else that has happened on our ballclubs in Oakland or St. Louis that there’s a hint of illegality. There isn’t anything that we didn’t actively and proactively attempt to do it right.”

Burwell: Does it bother you that you and coach Dave McKay have gained the unflattering label as the so-called godfathers of baseball’s steroids era with your connections to Jose Canseco and Mark McGwire?

La Russa: “That’s one of the crosses you have to bear … Dave McKay has as much or more integrity as any man I’ve met … There’s no chance that what happened officially at Oakland was tainted. Does it mean … when our guys are not in our facilities, not in our weight rooms, that guys didn’t experiment? No.”

Burwell: Would you have cared if you did know they were experimenting?

La Russa: “Yeah, I would care, because when I saw a guy who got stronger quickly without working hard, oh yeah, that implies a lot of other things about what he’s willing to do.”

Burwell: You still don’t believe McGwire used performance-enhancing drugs?

La Russa: “Absolutely not.”

Burwell: Come on.

La Russa: “Absolutely not. If you see Mark today, he still looks like he did then.”

Burwell: No he doesn’t.

La Russa: “Yes he does.”

Asked when he got to camp whether he’d ever used performance-enhancing drugs, Gonzalez told reporter Derrick Goold, “I never used it. I’m clear.”

Assigned uniform No. 22, Gonzalez singled twice and scored a run in the Cardinals’ exhibition opener against the Mets.

In 26 spring training at-bats, Gonzalez hit .308 with one homer (against Johan Santana) and five RBI before straining an abdominal muscle.

Placed on the temporarily inactive list, Gonzalez opted to go home to Puerto Rico. The Cardinals informed him he could return for an extended spring training when he felt ready to play.

“I told him he made a real good impression,” La Russa said to the Post-Dispatch. “I’m disappointed because he could have provided something special to our club.”

The Cardinals didn’t hear back from Gonzalez.

Six years later, in 2014, La Russa was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame. In an interview he did that year with Cardinals Yearbook, La Russa said McGwire did “a limited amount” of performance-enhancing drugs. Here are excerpts from that 2014 interview:

Cardinals Yearbook: How do you respond to those who say you were an enabler of baseball’s steroids era?

La Russa: “The only way you could know about what was going on was if you ran an investigation … I know on our team you couldn’t be a policeman and get detectives involved. Nobody is going to do that. If something is happening, it’s happening away from the ballpark.”

Cardinals Yearbook: How could it have been handled differently?

La Russa: “That’s the great unknown … All I know is on a personal basis I have no regrets. I don’t feel guilty about any part of it. We did what we could do.”

When he was ready to leave the Athletics, Tony La Russa was intending to manage the 1995 Red Sox.

“At the end of nine years, the A’s had given me permission to interview with the Red Sox, and I was going to Boston,” La Russa recalled to Cardinals Yearbook in 2014. “We even had a discussion about free agents … The one free agent we wanted was Larry Walker.”

If La Russa had gone through with the move, he likely never would have joined the Cardinals, the club he managed to three National League pennants, two World Series championships and a franchise-record 1,408 wins.

A lunch conversation with Athletics owner Walter Haas prompted La Russa to change his plans.

The times they are a-changin’

From 1988-90, La Russa led the Athletics to three consecutive American League pennants and a World Series title, but they finished 68-94 in 1993 and 51-63 in strike-shortened 1994. Though the 1994 Athletics had players such as Dennis Eckersley, Rickey Henderson and Mark McGwire, the club had a dismal 19-43 record until winning 19 of its next 22.

La Russa’s two-year contract with the Athletics expired at the end of 1994 and he was thinking it might be time to leave Oakland. “I came to realize that once you start amassing time _ eight or 10 years in one place _ there becomes a very real perception that the scene needs a change, more for the people around you than for yourself,” La Russa recalled to Cardinals Yearbook. “Fans get tired of reading your same quotes. The media starts to know what you’re going to say before you even say it. Players grow tired of you.”

Also, the Athletics were for sale and the uncertainty that created gave La Russa another reason to consider departing. “If the Haas’ (family) were still in Oakland, I’d still be there,” La Russa told Cardinals Yearbook in 2014.

After the players’ strike halted the season in August 1994, La Russa took his family on an extended vacation to England a month later “amid growing speculation that he could become Boston’s next manager,” the Sacramento Bee reported. “La Russa did nothing to downplay the speculation, acknowledging there are some ‘attractive situations’ out there. He sounded absolutely unsure if he will return to the A’s or seek grander challenges elsewhere.”

The Red Sox were seeking a replacement for Butch Hobson, who never produced a winning record in three seasons as their manager.

“I don’t think that Hobson’s firing will have any impact on our negotiations (with La Russa),” Athletics general manager Sandy Alderson told the Oakland Tribune.

Alderson also said to the Sacramento Bee, “Most of the Boston speculation is just that _ speculation.”

Please come to Boston

Actually, La Russa was the first choice of Red Sox general manager Dan Duquette, who viewed him as the person to lead the franchise to its first World Series crown since Babe Ruth played there in 1918. “The Red Sox are dying to hire La Russa and are willing to pay him a record-setting salary,” Baltimore Sun columnist Tom Keegan noted.

In explaining why La Russa would consider joining the Red Sox, Sacramento Bee columnist Mark Kreidler wrote, “Win it all in Boston, and La Russa’s fame is set for eternity, perhaps even the Hall of Fame … La Russa is not a man without ego. He would go into baseball-rabid Boston and he would own it within a year; and he would be paid millions; and he would work for a franchise that has the money and is willing to spend it in service of a diamond-encrusted ring. Heady stuff.”

Though it went unreported at the time, La Russa made up his mind to accept Boston’s offer. Before sealing the deal, he accepted an invitation to lunch with Walter Haas, the club owner who hired him to manage the Athletics in 1986 after La Russa was fired by the White Sox.

“(Haas) had always treated Elaine (La Russa’s wife) and me like family,” La Russa recalled to Cardinals Yearbook. “At this point, he was having serious health problems. He said he had one more year and he wanted me to manage the team. Going home, I told Elaine what Walter had said. At the time, I didn’t really know if he was talking about his health, selling the franchise, or both.”

Regardless, La Russa decided to honor Haas’ request. “I called Boston and declined the job,” he told Cardinals Yearbook.

Haas gave La Russa a three-year contract with a protective clause that enabled the manager to depart if there was an ownership change, the San Francisco Examiner reported.

As columnist Mark Kreidler noted, “You don’t have to make Tony La Russa a prince for accepting $1.25 million (per year) to continue managing the A’s, but know this: Finances and all, La Russa still made a decision of loyalty and personal feeling not to jump to the waiting Boston Red Sox.”

On the same day the Athletics signed La Russa, the Red Sox named Kevin Kennedy, formerly of the Rangers, as their manager.

“The specter of La Russa haunts Kennedy as Kennedy takes over the fabled Boston franchise,” wrote Boston Globe columnist Dan Shaughnessy. “It is well known that the Red Sox coveted the A’s manager above all others.”

Twists and turns

About the time he decided to stay with the Athletics, La Russa, a vegetarian and animal rights activist, caused a stir when he hammed it up in a national TV commercial for Wendy’s and its new chicken, bacon and Swiss cheese sandwich. “It was stupid on my part,” he told the Associated Press. “I screwed up.”

La Russa claimed he was misled, saying he thought the commercial was for a salad bar and baked potatoes, but Wendy’s spokesman Denny Lynch said Tony was full of baloney. “He knew that it was a chicken sandwich commercial,” Lynch told the Associated Press.

During the 1995 season, the Haas family completed the sale of the Athletics to Ken Hofman and Steve Schott. On Sept. 20, Walter Haas, 79, died. After that, the Athletics lost their last nine games and finished at 67-77, La Russa’s third consecutive losing season. “It wasn’t like the guys weren’t trying; they were grieving,” La Russa recalled to Cardinals Yearbook.

Meanwhile, Kevin Kennedy’s Red Sox, with a roster that included ex-Athletics slugger Jose Canseco as the designated hitter and former Cardinals such as second baseman Luis Alicea, pitcher Rheal Cormier and outfielder Willie McGee, were 1995 East Division champions at 86-58.

La Russa left Oakland after the season and became Cardinals manager. His first World Series appearance with them was in 2004. Their opponent was the Red Sox. Managed by Terry Francona, Boston swept, becoming World Series champions for the first time in 86 years.

Eventually, La Russa worked for the Red Sox, joining them in November 2017 as special assistant to president of baseball operations Dave Dombrowski. The Red Sox then won the 2018 World Series championship.

While pitching in the Cardinals’ organization, Pete Mazar became known as much for his vocal cords as for his arm.

Dubbed the “Frank Sinatra of baseball” for his singing, Mazar, like Ol’ Blue Eyes, was from New Jersey. Sinatra’s hometown was Hoboken, site of the first organized baseball game played in 1846 between the Knickerbocker Club and New York Nine. Mazar grew up in High Bridge, a mere 50 miles from Hoboken but, otherwise, worlds apart.

An urban melting pot across the Hudson River from Manhattan, Hoboken in Sinatra’s time was known for its gritty industrial docks and was the setting for the film “On the Waterfront.” In contrast, the borough of High Bridge has a reputation as a place for parks, trails and scenic beauty. A resident, Howard Menger, wrote “The High Bridge Incident,” a book about his claim of having met space aliens in the woods near High Bridge when he was a boy. Otherworldly, indeed.

Little lefty

Pete Mazar had eight brothers (including a twin) and five sisters, according to The Sporting News. Though no more than 5-foot-9 and 150 pounds, he was a standout athlete in soccer, basketball and baseball at High Bridge High School.

After graduation in June 1940, Mazar was a machinist for the local Taylor-Wharton Iron and Steel Company, makers of railroad fittings and switches and dredging equipment. A left-handed pitcher, he played semipro baseball for the High Bridge team in the well-regarded Tri-County League.

Mazar’s success as a semipro player got him a contract in 1941 with a New York Giants farm club in Milford, Del., but he became ill, pitched briefly and got released, according to the Allentown (Pa.) Morning Call. Returning to High Bridge, Mazar went back to the iron and steel job (the company now was producing material for America’s World War II involvement) and pitched semipro baseball.

In May 1944, with the war depleting baseball team rosters, the Cardinals offered Mazar, 23, a tryout with their Allentown farm club. Allentown manager Ollie Vanek, who had a notable eye for talent (the Cardinals signed 16-year-old Stan Musial on Vanek’s recommendation), took one look at Mazar and gave him a spot on the team. Mazar rewarded him with an 11-6 record.

Promoted by the Cardinals to Columbus (Ohio) in 1945, Mazar pitched a no-hitter against manager Casey Stengel’s Kansas City Blues. Of the 27 outs Mazar recorded using a sharp-breaking curve, 20 came on grounders, the Kansas City Times reported.

American idol

Seven of Mazar’s eight seasons in the Cardinals’ system were spent either with Columbus or Houston. In 1947, he pitched for both. After going 0-4 for Columbus, he was sent to Houston and pitched better for manager Johnny Keane’s club, which was on its way to becoming Texas League champions.

On Aug. 19, 1947, an estimated 13,000 spectators packed into Houston’s Buffalo Stadium for a doubleheader on what was promoted as “appreciation night.” Looking for ways to show their appreciation to fans, club officials gave Mazar a microphone before one of the games and asked him to sing for the crowd. Mazar had “served as a vocalist in a nightclub near his home at High Bridge,” according to The Sporting News.

Crooning hit tunes, Mazar thrilled his audience and was touted as “the Sinatra of baseball,” the Associated Press reported. (Sinatra’s popular songs in 1947 included “Almost Like Being in Love,” “Autumn in New York,” and “Time After Time.”)

Word spread that the Houston club had a silky-voiced troubadour with a smooth delivery. “Now everywhere he goes to play ball, they want him to warble,” according to the Associated Press.

On Aug. 24, it was arranged for Mazar to sing a song before Houston’s game at Dallas. “The crowd of 6,000 roared its approval,” the Associated Press reported. “They called him back for another, and still another. They wanted him for a fourth except that the ballgame had to go on.”

The next night, Aug. 25, Mazar was the starting pitcher for Houston at Oklahoma City. He entertained a crowd of 4,937 with three songs, then got the win against an Oklahoma City club that featured hitters such as Ray Boone and Al Rosen.

Houston club president Allen Russell asked Mazar to spend the winter in Texas so that he could promote his singing.

Fan favorite

Back with Houston and Johnny Keane in 1948, Mazar, 27, had his best season as a pitcher. He won 12 of his first 14 decisions and finished 15-10 with a 2.53 ERA in 228 innings.

His most satisfying win came at home on July 17, 1948. When Houston fans learned Mazar and his wife were expecting their third child, they presented the couple with more than 100 gifts before that night’s game. Mazar thanked the crowd of 7,358, crooned several songs and then pitched a three-hit shutout to beat Tulsa. “I never wanted to win a game so much in my life … I didn’t want to let all of those good people down,” Mazar told The Sporting News.

Mazar’s successful 1948 season didn’t do enough to impress the Cardinals. When they didn’t put him on their 40-man winter roster, the Cubs claimed him in the November 1948 minor-league draft on the recommendation of scout Jigger Statz. Mazar reminded him of Tony Freitas, another pint-sized left-hander who pitched in the majors during the 1930s, Statz told the Los Angeles Times.

Assigned to the Cubs’ Los Angeles Angels farm team in 1949, Mazar was 2-4 for the Pacific Coast League team when he got sent back to Houston in May.

In April 1950, Mazar was struck by a line drive, breaking his left thumb. It didn’t hurt his singing, but it did his pitching. The 1951 season was Mazar’s last in the Cardinals’ system. He pitched three more years in the minors but never reached the big leagues _ either as a player or a singer.

Returning to High Bridge, Mazar and his wife operated a tavern and he also worked as a machinist for F.L. Smidth & Company, makers of equipment for mining and cement industries.

One year after they traded Steve Carlton because he wanted a $65,000 salary, the Cardinals offered a college pitcher a six-figure contract.

Michigan State’s Brad Van Pelt, a right-hander with a 100 mph fastball, was the prospect who prompted the Cardinals to consider coughing up the cash. He also was a football talent, a recipient of the Maxwell Award presented to the most outstanding college player in the sport.

Drafted in January 1973 by the baseball Cardinals and the NFL New York Giants, Van Pelt opted for pro football. He went on to play 14 seasons, helping to form one of the all-time best linebacking units.

Abundant athleticism

Van Pelt was from Owosso, Mich., a town 90 miles northwest of Detroit. Thomas Dewey, twice the Republican nominee for president, was from there, too. (Dewey lost to Franklin Delano Roosevelt in 1944 and to Harry Truman in 1948.)

An athlete who excelled in every sport he tried, including bocce, golf and soccer, Van Pelt was a high school sensation as a quarterback in football, a rebounder in basketball (he hauled down 42 in one game) and a pitcher in baseball (consecutive no-hitters as a senior).

The Tigers, his favorite team, chose Van Pelt, 18, in the 14th round of the 1969 June baseball draft but he took a football scholarship from Michigan State instead.

(It was the first of five times Van Pelt was selected in the baseball draft. He declined to sign each time. After the Tigers in June 1969, others to draft him were the Angels in June 1972, Cardinals in January 1973, Pirates in June 1973 and Indians in January 1974.)

“Rangy, fast and strong,” Van Pelt, 6-foot-5, 220 pounds, had the “defensive end’s body with the receiver’s speed,” according to the Lansing State Journal.

Michigan State guard Joe DeLamielleure (elected to the Pro Football Hall of Fame for his skill as a Buffalo Bills and Cleveland Browns lineman) told the newspaper, “Van Pelt was the modern day Jim Thorpe, and that’s no exaggeration … He could have been our starting quarterback because he could throw the ball a mile.”

Michigan State head coach Duffy Daugherty said Van Pelt could have played any position on the football team. “He is the most versatile athlete I’ve ever coached,” Daugherty told the Associated Press.

Daugherty dubbed Van Pelt his “secretary of defense” and put him at safety. Often called a rover back, Van Pelt had the size and speed to intimidate receivers, stuff rushers and pressure quarterbacks with blitzes. “I’ve never seen a safety able to come up to the line of scrimmage to make tackles as quick as Brad can,” Daugherty said to the Flint Journal.

George Perles, an assistant on Daugherty’s staff before eventually becoming head coach, told the Lansing newspaper, “During his college career, he (Van Pelt) might have been the biggest safety in the Big Ten (Conference), if not the country.”

In his three varsity seasons (1970-72), Van Pelt totaled 256 tackles and 14 interceptions. “He (Daugherty) gave me the freedom to blitz when I wanted and to go to the ball on every play,” Van Pelt said to the State Journal. “I can’t thank him enough.”

Man for all seasons

Described by Joe Rexrode of the Lansing newspaper as “the purest all-around athlete in Michigan State history,” Van Pelt played varsity basketball and baseball.

He got into 31 basketball games for head coach Gus Ganakas, who told the State Journal, “Van Pelt helped define the position of power forward.”

In baseball, Van Pelt pitched for head coach Danny Litwhiler, a former big-leaguer who played in two World Series (1943 and 1944) as the Cardinals’ left fielder.

As a sophomore, Van Pelt was on the 1971 Big Ten championship baseball team. The next season, he struck out 84 in 56.1 innings and had a 2.07 ERA. The Angels picked Van Pelt in the 13th round of the June 1972 draft and offered $100,000 _ “The first three days after they made the offer I really thought about signing,” Van Pelt told the Flint Journal _ but he chose to return to college for senior year.

Instead of spending the summer of 1972 pitching in the Angels’ system, Van Pelt went to the Netherlands with an amateur team from Grand Rapids, Mich., to compete in an international honkbal (Dutch for baseball) tournament.

Cardinals calling

After Van Pelt’s senior football season, big-league baseball held a winter draft on Jan. 10, 1973. In those days, a secondary phase was conducted for players who had been drafted in prior years but hadn’t signed.

Selecting seventh in the first round, the Cardinals chose Van Pelt. “He was one of a few premium players available,” Cardinals director of player procurement George Silvey told the St. Louis Post-Dispatch.

Cardinals general manager Bing Devine said to United Press International, “He’s an all-American boy in every sense of the word.”

(The Tigers, who had the next pick after the Cardinals, were planning to draft Van Pelt, the Post-Dispatch reported. When the Cardinals beat them to it, the Tigers went with Van Pelt’s Michigan State teammate, pitcher Larry Ike.)

Van Pelt told the Cardinals he’d wait until the NFL draft was held on Jan. 30, 1973, before making a decision.

When the Cardinals made it known they intended to sign Van Pelt, NFL teams didn’t want to risk losing a first-round pick in a bidding war with a baseball team. As the New York Times put it, Van Pelt became “a player of unquestioned ability but highly questionable availability.”

New York Jets head coach Weeb Ewbank told the Times, “We just didn’t see any sense in fighting baseball for him, but he is one hell of an athlete.”

The Giants, who had traded their first-round pick to the Browns for defensive end Jack Gregory, grabbed Van Pelt in the second round, where, as head coach Alex Webster noted to the Times, “he was worth the risk.”

Decision time

A year earlier, the Cardinals reportedly offered Steve Carlton a 1972 salary of $57,500. Carlton wanted more. As spring training got under way, Carlton said he and the club were less than $10,000 apart, The Sporting News reported, but owner Gussie Busch, angry when the pitcher didn’t sign, ordered Bing Devine to trade him. Carlton was sent to the Phillies, who gave him $65,000 in 1972, and he won 27 games for them that season.

Devine offered a lot more than that to Van Pelt in February 1973. Braving a snowstorm, Devine met with Van Pelt in Owosso and made an enticing pitch. “We went to a peak level with the offer we made him,” Devine told Milton Richman of United Press International. “By that I mean over $100,000.”

Giants owner Wellington Mara followed Devine to Owosso and presented Van Pelt with a three-year, no-cut contract worth $300,000.

Van Pelt said the money offered by the Cardinals and Giants was about the same. “The two offers were so close that I almost thought they had gotten together,” he remarked in an article published in the Post-Dispatch.

Van Pelt chose the Giants primarily because he could begin his pro career in the NFL rather than in baseball’s minor leagues.

(Danny Litwhiler told United Press International that Van Pelt would need at least two years of total concentration on baseball to become ready for the majors. Van Pelt acknowledged to the Jersey Journal, “I know I have a major-league fastball, but my curve leaves a lot to be desired.”)

As Devine said to Milton Richman, “With us, he would have had to go to the minor leagues to develop. With the football Giants, he went right to the big-league club. That was the key.”

Crunch Bunch

The Giants tried Van Pelt at tight end and strong safety during a frustrating rookie year. After Bill Arnsparger replaced Alex Webster as head coach in 1974, Van Pelt shifted to outside linebacker. His career soared when Marty Schottenheimer arrived as linebacker coach in 1975. “I’d say 85 percent of what I am now, I learned from him,” Van Pelt told the Detroit Free Press in 1979.

Van Pelt was named to the Pro Bowl five years in a row (1976-80) and was chosen as the Giants’ player of the decade for the 1970s. “If Brad Van Pelt played on a good team, he would be a household name,” Los Angeles Rams general manager Don Klosterman said to Mike Lupica of the New York Daily News.

The Giants had one winning record in Van Pelt’s 11 seasons with them. As club executive John Mara told the Daily News, “If you look at those (Van Pelt) years, our teams were as bad as could possibly be. We really had some awful teams in the 1970s. He was the one guy who was consistently a good player.”

Van Pelt played for five Giants head coaches _ Alex Webster, Bill Arnsparger, John McVay, Ray Perkins and Bill Parcells. (Bill Belichick was a Giants assistant coach from 1979-84 and Van Pelt’s linebacker coach from 1980-83.)

When Parcells joined the Giants as defensive coordinator on Perkins’ staff in 1981, he installed a 3-4 defense after the club drafted Lawrence Taylor. From 1981-83, the Giants’ four hard-hitting starting linebackers _ Harry Carson, Brian Kelley, Taylor and Van Pelt _ became known as the Crunch Bunch. (Carson and Taylor were elected to the Pro Football Hall of Fame.)

According to Newsday, Taylor called Van Pelt “one of the greatest players I ever played with.”

The arrival of linebacker Carl Banks, a first-round pick from, of all places, Michigan State in 1984 prompted the Giants to break up the Crunch Bunch. In July 1984, Van Pelt was traded to the Minnesota Vikings for fullback Tony Galbreath.

Van Pelt refused to report, telling the Vikings he preferred to be with a team either in California or Florida. He never played a game for the Vikings. They traded him to the Los Angeles Raiders for two draft choices. Van Pelt spent two seasons (1984-85) with the Raiders and one (1986) with the Browns.

In 1998, Van Pelt returned to Michigan State and completed his school work, earning a degree in health and physical education. Three years later, he was inducted into the College Football Hall of Fame. A son, Bradlee, was a quarterback for Colorado State and played in three games for the 2005 Denver Broncos.