FanPost

Local Heroes

Local heroes - You know them; hell, you root for them. In Philly, they are often cheered louder and harder than the superstars. A local hero won't make the Hall of Fame. Rich Ashburn was a poster child for local heroes - a legend in Philly with phanatics, but little respected beyond the Delaware and Susquehanna until the Hall corrected its blunder. When you heard someone say "Clemente's arm gets all the press, but for my money, nobody runs on Johnny Callison and lives to tell," you can hear the reverence for a local hero.

Every club has them. Ron Santo from the 60s Cubs was one until Cooperstown reached out and let him also join Billy Williams, Ernie Banks, and Fergie Jenkins, but digging a little deeper you could find northsiders who talked about Don Kessinger. I knew a Giants fan who - when I talked of the legendary 3M's, responded "Did you ever see Jim Ray Hart hit a ball?" I'm talking Mays, McCovey, and Marichal, and he's explaining what injuries did to Jim Ray Hart who should have been a great one. Local hero. Staying in the 60's: "Hey, bravest guy I ever saw was Mickey Stanley. There is no wing in Cooperstown for Mickey Stanley. But in the reverence of a long-time Tigers fan was the telltale sign of a legend in his own park. We'll come back to him later.

20 years ago, if you bought a guide to baseball card prices, you could clue in who these guys are. Common commons might be a nickel a piece, star prices came written in scientific notation. But some players were worth a dime; they were better than your Woody Woodward, but certainly not worth the price of a Tony Perez. I kind of think of these dime players in a few distinct categories: the almost was, the one year wonder, and the career nice guy.

The Almost Was

You have to know a player who almost was. He had all the tools. The Spaulding Guide swing. The speed. The Cannon. And with these, the Almost Was puts together two or three tremendous years. Those years are good enough to merit HOF consideration if extended to a career of 12 to 15 years. The great year may be the lynchpin in a post season victory. This is probably the most voluminous category of our survey. Baseballpastandpresent.com runs a ballot of HOF near misses littered with these guys. It's not hard to think of these players...Curt Schilling, Tommy John, Maury Wills, Joe Torre. Before Johnny Bench reinvented catching, Joe Torre was the best in the game. They carried good teams to the series. They dominated a mini-era.

My favorite example on this category got 1 write-in vote on the 2014 near miss list; to that voter a hearty God Bless You for voting for John Wesley Callison. To this day, his picture and his bat adorn my study. The All-Star MVP in 1964, Callison's walk-off home run off Dick Radatz still get airplay in the runup to mid-summer classics. But he contributed far more than one exhibition homer; his performance from 1962 to 1966 helped resurrect the death-march Phillies of the early 60's. Not a famous speedster, he had double digit triples from 61-65. A staggering number of runners learned that his right arm was deadly - throwing out 20+ runners a year from 62 - 65. He finished second to Kenny Boyer in the 1964 MVP race, but this one season of 654 AB, .316, 31 HR, 104 RBI, and 20 assists would have made him a Philly legend. Callison was a quiet man. In later years, I met him as a bartender in Doylestown. If you didn't know who he was, he wouldn't tell you. But he appreciated someone who loved and talked baseball. He was self-deprecating, too. When came to Philly from the Chisox, reporters asked if he was angry that he was traded. He responded that hitting .179 will get you traded or worse. He was glad to be playing. Unfortunately, his gaudy numbers ended after 1965. After a few more years, the Phillies traded him to Chicago. I last saw him play for the Yankees in 1972 as a platoon rightfielder. My lasting memory was his beautiful swing arcing a ball into the short porch at Yankee Stadium. Johnny Callison passed away in 2006. He'll not make the Hall of Fame, but I'll tell Johnny Callison stories until I'm done speaking of baseball. He's my local legend.

For a pitcher of the same era, I think of "Sudden Sam" McDowell in Cleveland. If you never saw Sam McDowell, think a 1960s Randy Johnson on worse teams with a career that didn't last as long. He stood 6' 5" and a lean 190. He broke into the majors at 18 years of age before retiring in 1975 of the power pitcher's malady - age and loss of control. Felix Hernandez won Cy Young with a 13-12 and record with a bad team. Which kind of makes you appreciate Sam McDowell's 1968 when he went 15-14 with a 1.81 ERA and league leading 283 strikeouts with a bad Indians side that was blessed with 3 fine starters in McDowell, 20 game winner Luis Tiant, and Sonny Siebert. A 6 time All-Star, he led the AL in strikeouts 5 times in 6 years, twice eclipsing 300 Ks. In typical Indians fortune, a disgruntled McDowell demanded a trade 2 years after being the '70 AL Pitcher of the Year. Unfortunately, he was never the same pitcher in San Fransciso - whereas Gaylord Perry for whom he was traded won the Cy Young and continued his junkballing all the way into the Hall of Fame. Unlike the eminently loveable Callison, McDowell struggled with contract squabbles, chronic injuries, and alcoholism. He did eventually rehab, kick the alcohol and even became a counselor. There are reports that he was the the womanizing and ex-drinking role model for Cheer's Sam Malone. But in an era that featured Koufax, Marichal, Jenkins, Seaver, Bunning, Stottlemeyer, and McLain at their peak, McDowell was in the conversation as being the best in the game.

The One Year Wonder

We all know this player. One five year period in the American League offered us two of the classic one-year wonders: Mark "The Bird" Fidrych and "Super Joe" Charboneau. While the Phils were building towards their first World Championship, The pre-Albert Bell, pre- Manny Ramirez Cleveland Indians had little to cheer about in the "Mistake by the Lake." Cleveland had build a pretty capable attack around Mike Hargrove, Ron Hassey, speedster Miguel Dilone, and the human anagram - Toby Harrah. But they lacked power, save slugging first baseman Andre Thorton. Thornton missed the entire 1980 and much of 1981 with serious knee injuries. Given the dearth of power, it's not that surprising that Tribe fans fell for a brash rookie with dyed hair, a massive chunk of chewing tobacco, and an propensity for beer drinking. Of course, 20+ homers, and high 80s RBIs didn't hurt. He was your 1980 AL Rookie of the Year. On a local note, Charboneau was drafted by the Phils in the early 70s. He had a short-lived career in the Phils farm system. A fight with management - he was neither the first nor last to do so with Philly - led to early retirement and a couple years on the softball circuit. He rejoined the minors in the late 70s, and got his chance after a freak accident knocked Thornton out of the lineup. His star burned fast, and burned out quicker. By mid '81 as the strike that broke the Phils fell upon the world of baseball, Charboneau was in Mendoza land, and headed back to AAA. Then AA. His career was capped by the playing the role of 'Additional Knight' in The Natural. No Oscar was awarded

Mark Fidrych was rational and professional only if compared to Anthony Perkins portrayal of Jimmy Piersall in Fear Strikes Out. The Bird was so popular that in 1976 the Tigers would sell out his starts. Fans would demand curtain calls at the end of his games. He finished second in Cy Young voting, but won 19 games, led the league in ERA, and completed an amazing by today's standards 24 games. But his fame exceeded his numerical contribution to either the Tigers bottom line or the record book. The Bird was a capital F flake. He talked to the ball on the mound. He accused Minnesota of releasing messenger pigeons to break his concentration. He said "bullshit " on national TV, and then nearly broke down because he'd let everyone down by doing so. He groomed the mound 'just so' throughout the game. And he did it all on a major league minimum salary. His face adorned the cover of Sports Illustrated and perhaps that was a bad thing. The jinx hit Fidrych in spades. Before the 1977 season he busted up his knee. He was never the same. Multiple comebacks later, the Bird never managed more than 81 innings. 19-9 in '76, he finished his career in '80 with a 29-19 record and 3.10 ERA. It's rumored that he threw some of those years with a torn rotator cuff. Tragically, Mark Fidrych died in 2009 in an accident while repair his car. Despite the bad luck, his one great season was: One. Great. Season.

The Career Nice Guy

The career nice guy is a local hero, but he may not have had all that memorable career. His fame comes from being great in the locker room, the community, but also punched above his weight on the field. One local example with a short body of work with the Phils might be Jim Eisenreich. Surprisinreich. He stood in complete contrast with the Macho Row image of the 1993 Phils. There's a great baseball card with four local legends - Hammers and Nails with Daulton, Hollins, Incaviglia, and Dykstra. And that rep was earned; the '92 Fightin' Phils finished last in the NL East, but Bobby Cox noted in the preseason they'd be dangerous if they could pitch and catch the ball; they were 2nd in the National League with 686 runs scored. So who turns out to be the perfect compliment to this wrecking crew of tobacco stained ruffians? Mild mannered, Tourettes-suffering, .318 hitting Jim Eisenreich. In his first day in the clubhouse, Eisenreich went about his business quietly. As he finished and walked out, Dave Hollins reportedly yelled "Hey, nice talking to you!" from the row. The Inquirer's Frank Fitzpatrick called him "A lone raisin in this bowl of flakes." Eisenreich grew on both his teammates and fans. He caught most of what was hit to him, played all 3 outfield positions and some emergency first base, committed only 1 error, and was solid at the plate. He didn't have a great World Series, but can still be remembered for a decisive blast in Game 2. Despite missing 2.5 years in the prime of his career, Eisenriech played 15, and only 3.5 of them in Philly pinstripes. But I frequently see his name mentioned as a favorite from that 1993 team. Eisy won the first Tony Coligniaro award for overcoming a significant obstacle - Tourette Syndrome - and play at a high level. He runs a charity for kids afflicted with the illness in Kansas City. You want Jim Eisenreich on your team.

In his book, "The Umpire Strikes Back," the quotable Ron Luciano talks at length about how he tried to talk the Tigers Mickey Stanley out of retirement. Luciano was legendary for his grudges, ask Earl Weaver. Luciano tells the story of how he worked an entire game from center field to talk Stanley out of retirement in 1978. He played parts of 15 years for Detroit, including the 1968 championship team. Stanley was an outstanding defensive ballplayer, winning 4 Gold Gloves in an era with some fine defensive outfielders - despite the lack of an everyday position. He played center, right, first base, shortstop, and some second base. As mentioned before, Stanley moved to shortstop both to avoid exposing the weak hitting Ray Oyler to Gibson, Briles, Carlton, Hughes, and Washburn and to allow young Jim Northrup to play. Stanley contributed, but Northrup homered twice. The fact a Tigers fan would spend time talking about Stanley is remarkable enough because that 1968 team featured many of the most storied players in Detroit history: Mickey Lolich, Denny McLain of the 31 wins, Al Kaline, Willie Horton, Bill Freehan. Stanley wasn't even the best story on that team. Gates Brown hit .370 and flirted with .500 as a pinch hitter, after being encouraged to play baseball while serving time in an Ohio prison. Stanley's career line score doesn't bowl one over: .248, 117, 500. But by definition local heroes are not the best players on the team (that was probably Kaline), they're a player that gets talked about in the same breath for unlikely reasons.

Over the years, I've had my fair share of Phillie local heroes. I need to confess that I also loved the superstars. I can't begin to say how glad I am to have seen Mike Schmidt in his prime, Carlton's incredible 1972, Pete Rose, Curt Schilling, the tail end of Jim Bunning's career. Roy Halladay. Cole Hamels. I'm glad to have met a rookie Ryan Howard in the visitors clubhouse at Minute Maid Park in 2004. I have to classify Jimmy Rollins and Chase Utley too as stars. A few years from now we can see if they are merely local ones. I wish we could have kept Jim Thome longer - he was class. I'll always be angry at Scott Rolen, but I loved him as a Phillie. But this isn't about stars, it's about local heroes, and as much as I may grumble he was a star.

I can't tell you why I loved some Phillie players over the years. Some were stars of their day, others role players. Some of them get a little kick on the value of their baseball card. Many don't. The following list is nowhere near exhaustive. Many are not even semi-stars. But Johnny Callison, Antonio Taylor, Chris Short, Cookie Rojas, Larry Bowa, Rick Wise, Bob Boone, Greg Luzinski, Jay Johnstone, Garrr--EE--Mad-dox, The 75-78 bullpens of Gene Garber, Ron Reed, Warren Brusstar, and Frank Edwin McGraw, Bake McBride, Keith Moreland, Dickie Noles, Bo Diaz, Roger McDowell, Milt Thompson, Tommy Greene, Jim Eisenreich, Doug Glanville, Aaron Rowand, Shane Victorino, Jayson Werth, and Ryan Madson -- you are all players for whom I've rationally or irrationally cheered just a little louder.

Phillie or not Phillie... sidle up to the warm stove and tell us - who do you think is a baseball local hero?