Now Pitching for the Yankees by Appel Marty;Berra Yogi;

Author:Appel, Marty;Berra, Yogi;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: SPORTS & RECREATION/Baseball/General
Publisher: Diversion Publishing Corp.
Published: 2013-07-03T00:00:00+00:00

You would have expected Catfish Hunter to be our Opening Day pitcher, but we opened in Cleveland, so Hunter was held back for our home opener. This was just as well, because that particular Opening Day in Cleveland was historic and would have far overshadowed anything we were doing.

It was the debut of Frank Robinson, the new player-manager of the Indians and, at long last, the first black manager in the major leagues.

Frank had been the logical candidate for this honor for some years. He had done all you had to do, even as a player, such as managing winter ball in Puerto Rico. He was testy, not the easiest guy to get along with, but he was a smart baseball man and, of course, a great player. Respect did not automatically come with that—a number of his players never accepted him—but the time for a black manager was long overdue, and, to the credit of Cleveland owner Ted Bonda, the time had finally come.

Bowie Kuhn played a big role in finally bringing this about. Jackie Robinson had pushed Kuhn hard on the issue. Jackie had sat with Kuhn in Cincinnati at the 1972 World Series, nearly blind, agreeing to participate in a 25th anniversary salute to his breaking the color line, as long as Kuhn pledged to lobby hard for blacks in management. And true to his word, Kuhn did just that.

Bonda was finally the guy who made it happen. Kuhn was present, along with Rachel Robinson, Jackie’s beautiful and gracious widow, lending her blessing and, in a way, Jackie’s. Jackie had died of diabetes just days after the ’72 Series.

There was a press conference before the game, with Frank, Rachel, Kuhn, and Bonda all present, and one writer asked Bonda if Kuhn had played any role in bringing this about. If so, this would be one of the finest hours of the Kuhn administration.

“No, not at all,” said Bonda.

Kuhn went to him later and said, “Frankly, Ted, I was a little surprised by your answer, after all the conversations we have had.”

“Oh, commissioner,” he replied, “I just didn’t want to embarrass you.”

The rain was falling hard on this day in miserable Municipal Stadium, but 56,715 fans were on hand for history. I was really glad that the Yankees were—by the luck of the draw—the opposing team, so that I could witness it.

Cleveland was the last ballpark in which photographers were allowed on the field while the game was going on, and, when Robinson came to bat in the first inning, the scene was utter madness. There were 20 photographers hovering within 20 feet of the batter’s box, like a scene from some old Babe Ruth newsreel. In most parks, this practice had ended with the advent of long camera lenses, “Big Berthas,” but they went back some 25 years!

Robinson was the designated hitter that afternoon, because he was one of the last playing managers baseball would see

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.