The Phenoms of Minnesota Twins Springs Past: Part I

Luke Hughes.  Kyle Gibson.  Scott Diamond. Just a few new names we Twins fans have heard bandied about this spring of 2011. This post and the ones to follow highlight some past Twins who either performed admirably in spring training, or caught on with the club early in the season.

Some "kicked up the dust," and flourished...while some wilted like daisies in the hot summer sun, from the pressures of big league ball.

Jimmie Hall, 1963: Southern Fried Slugger 
He was the fleet center fielder with a sweet, whiplash swing from the left side. He was the first, real "tools" player (speed, power) to come up in the Twins' system in the early 1960's. He was sort of a Mickey Mantle character, Minnesota version, with his skill set and southern drawl.

1964 Topps Card

Jimmie Hall was 25 when he impressed the Twins in the '63 camp (see "3 New Faces For The Twins" - Albert Lea Trib. April 1, 1963).  He'd been in the minors for parts of 7 seasons, and had finished his stint in the reserves in '62. Lenny Green had been the veteran in center field for the club, and knew by the middle of June that the fleet Hall would be taking his spot. Check out The Sporting News feature pg. 1 and page 2 on him from July 27, 1963. He was just a country kid, really, from Mount Holly, SC. You can imagine it was a kind of a place with Sheriffs like Andy Taylor and greasy spoon restaurants, a place where you couldn't swing a Louisville Slugger without hitting an Aunt Bee or drunk Otis Campbell character. He disliked big cities, a la, Hibbing, Minnesota native Roger Maris. That he played at Metropolitan Stadium must have been O.K. with him, as it was basically located in what had been a cornfield.

When Green went down with an injury in June, Hall was inserted into the starting lineup, and began knocking the cover off the ball. He hit .322 that month with 5 jacks, then only .233 but 7 HR's in July, caught fire with 13 bombs, 27 RBI and .333 in August, and finished off the year in September with another 6 homers. Not bad stuff -31 homers, .273 batting average, with 77 ribbies, .354 OBP & slugged .556.

Here's a wonderful clip of Jimmie batting against Don Drysdale in the 1965 World Series:

While he had three more fine seasons with Minnesota, it was always claimed that his May, 1964 beaning (link: Mar. 23, 1967 Milwaukee Sentinel) made him tentative against lefty throwers.   Actually, his line against them wasn't impressive previously, having only hit 1 homer pre-injury, and four lifetime (see Jason Kubel (10, through 2010) and Jacque Jones (21) lifetime for comparison). Just as crucial, perhaps, was his collision with Bob Allison that made him less aggressive going back to the wall for deep drives. He called it a career in 1970 with the Braves.

Sergio Ferrer, 1974: not ready for primetime...

Custom Made 1974 Ferrer Topps
Twins Cards Autographs section

Sergio Ferrer was basically the clubhouse janitor who masqueraded his way onto the major league stage. That is to say, he was a sham of a major league player for most of his time in the show. He was Chico Esquala, the fictional, comedic, Latin middle infielder popularized by Garret Morris on Saturday Night Live, before anybody had ever heard the name. He impressed the Twins brass during spring training competition, where his AA background looked to be more than adequate against the usual collection of green prospects and rusty veterans.

The Twins had selected him as a Rule 5 draftee on Dec. 3, 1973, from the Dodgers farm system.  Essentially, Calvin Griffith and company had grown dissatisfied with incumbent shortstop Danny Thompson. Thompson had produced a .225/.259/.282 line (batting, on base, slugging) line in '73, and it had to give the Twins pause, especially with his leukemia woes factored in. The Twins, with Ferrar's minor league stat sheet in front of them, saw this: a .297 BA, and a .397 OBP, with 44 steals in two seasons. I remember hearing the spring training games carried by WCCO radio out of Minneapolis, feeling thrilled whenever the little Puerto Rican reached base, anticipating he'd use his speed to swipe another bag.  And when he started the season as Manager Frank Quilici's lead off man, he batted .281 in 20 games, showing that speed alright...

Problem was, the Twins had neglected to scan the defensive side of his rap sheet: 70 errors in two seasons previous in A and AA ball.  Sure enough, when he had to field the ball, Ferrer didn't disappoint: at the start of '74, he committed 9 errors in 62 chances, a span of 125 innings. That's an .855 fielding percentage in 20 games (14 where he was the starter), while the league shortstops average was .969. Things had not "been berry, berry good..."


That's just plain loco, amigo!

By May 12, the "Sergio Ferrer Era" was mercifully over, as it marked the last time that year he would start at shortstop for the Twins. By the end of May, he was at AAA Tacoma, probably sent over in a spare bat bag to save cheap Calvin Griffith some air fare. There, he continued his pattern of savage butchery (a mere 29 errors in 79 games, .924 Fld%). The Twins tried their luck afterward with a revolving door of infield candidates, including Thompson, Luis Gomez, Jerry Terrell and Eric Soderholm. Dick Nixon could only wish he was given as quiet a burial in that stormy summer of '74. Sergio resurfaced with the hapless, late '70's New York Mets, where he found a home as Ed Kranepool's designated pinch runner.

Eric Milton, 1998: Centerpiece of Yankee trade for Chuck whats-his-name?
In the six seasons since the 1991 Championship, 2B Chuck Knoblauch had gone from an image of being the finest all-American overachiever who ever had his cheeks pinched by adoring grandmothers, to being a trade-demanding megalomaniac.  The Twins found suckers takers for his services in the New York Yankees [cue evil dictator laugh here].

The ransom they had to pay for his services turned into the most celebrated trade and transaction for the Twins in the decade of the 1990's: Brian Buchanan, Cristian Guzman, Eric Milton, Danny Mota and $3M came Minnesota's way on Feb. 6, 1998.

1999 Topps Rookie card

It was with no small joy for Twins fans that Milton was given a spot on the roster after his first spring fling with the Twins - he had discernible talent, which gave the fan base instant hope- a commodity that had become non-existent in a relatively short span of time. Pitchers like Rich Robertson, Scott Klingenbeck, and players like Scott Stahoviak and David McCarty had come to symbolize the decay and general malaise of a franchise (or like that same, inebriated Otis stumbling upon and flipping off the happy birthday kids party with his coarseness and rude flatulence). They were part of the slow building steam of resurgence for the Twins of the early 2000's that would blow the lid off the sham and lie that was contraction between the seasons of 2001 and 2002.

With that in mind, it's probably not too much of an exaggeration to claim Milton and his cohorts, specifically Guzman, were part of the most important trade in franchise history. The franchise's fate may have tipped another way if not for that. Of course, we'll never know.  Milton's 15-25 won-loss record over his first two seasons then became secondary, what with the legitimacy and talent (like the young Frank Viola) he brought to the pitching staff. A point of contention: Milton's Sept.11, 1999 no-hitter against the Anaheim Angels is downgraded for the low grade lineup he faced while Johnny Vander Meer's 1938 no-hitter (the second of two consecutive gems) against a very undistinguished Brooklyn Dodger lineup is given no such scrutiny or back-handed praise. With his career seemingly over at this point we owe him - and the Knobber - a salute in gratitude (uh, not that salute - the classy, respectful one).

We'll return later with more Twins phenoms.
Until then, as Herb used to say: "...and the count rides along."
TT

Remembering Rod Carew, The Magician With A Bat

Rod Carew's "Mod Squad" 1972 Topps baseball card, my favorite!

Rodney Cline Carew...

Three favorite adjectives for him? 

Perfection, effortless, unstoppable...he was the magician with the bat.  He played 12 seasons with the Twins, from 1967 to 1978.  This ended all too abruptly when he left the Twins after 1978 to join the California Angels.  A heartbreaking situation for Twins fans that was, especially considering the team had already lost both Larry Hisle and Lyman Bostock the previous year to free agency...

Rodney was a no-brainer all-time Twin and Hall of Fame player the day he left Minnesota.  He's now immortalized in the team's "sculpture garden" (in addition to Kirby Puckett and Harmon Killebrew) on the Plaza outside brand-new Target Field in Minneapolis. He gave fans like me a reason to tune in my radio in the 1970's for late night Twins games on the west coast, when they fielded some pretty mediocre clubs. I mean, the middle infield in the '74 opener was Rod at second, and the hot, new shortstop...Sergio Ferrar?  Exactly. 

Three main memories of him?
*The casual, three-quarters-underhand flip throw to Harmon for the out, second to first...
*The curious running style, his arms held curiously out to his side as if he were holding onto the rails of an escalator...
*The smooth warmup swings before the pitch, before he assumed a bent-over crouch with his bat held parallel to the ground...

Such an idiosyncratic guy.  It seemed as if there were two games going on - the one everyone else was playing, and then his elegant, "my-own-little-universe" version.  A man among boys. He was liable to hit the ball anywhere from the lefthanded batters box - a bleeding, lineshot to the gap in right, a little dinking bloop over the shortstop, or one of his famous bunts down the third baseline. 

No one ever seemed to be in the right spot for those bunts, even if they knew he might lay one down.  No question, he was the best bunter in the second half of the 20th Century. I remember hearing how he'd tap pitches in practice with disgusting regularity in ballbags placed around the grass in the vicinty of home plate

*********

He was born at 7 o' clock in the evening on a train traveling in the Panama Canal Zone on October 1, 1945. His mother, Olga Carew, wanted the birthing to take place at the largest hospital in Panama, Gorgas.  Her reason was practical: so many children were dying at the local facilities in Gatun. The train's bumping along exacerbated matters.  Luckily, a nurse on the train enlisted the aid of a physician, Dr. Rodney Cline, a man in the right place at the right time to have his name linked with baseball history.

The Back Story

Rod and his brother Dickie were verbally and physically abused by his father Eric Carew, a temperamental, drinking man. He would eventually abandon his family. Before that, Rod could tell a whuppin was coming just observing the way his father approached his home on the sidewalk. His Mother, Olga, would jump in front of his blows as he tried to wack away at their sons. Rod used the baseball diamond as a means of escape, as well as recreation; he was initiated into the game using broomsticks for bats and paper bags for gloves in Panama.  That was better than wandering off into the nearby jungle.  Indeed, kids who ventured carelessly could encounter poisonous snakes on the prowl...

And with that depressing genesis, quiet, private Rod Carew would find his identity in playing amateur baseball as a teenager in New York city.  He relocated there in 1961 with his brother, joining their mother. Much of his tutelage took place on fields just a short distance from Yankee Stadium, where the dynastic Yankees of the early '60's reigned. He could hear the roar of the crowd wafting through the air when Mickey Mantle or Roger Maris put a charge into one. 

Legend has it that the Twins were tipped off to his talent that early summer of 1964 by local scout Herb Stein, who saw the 6 foot, 150 pound Rod playing for the New York Cavaliers in the Bronx Federation League (a sandlot outfit).  He took batting practice in the fabled Yankee stadium. The ballpark at that time featured monuments honoring Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig right out on the playing surface.  They were near the flagpole in centerfield.  And it didn't seem weird at all. 

Now, of course, we have padded fences, shin guards, elbow guards, et. al.  You'll have to go to another universe to find granite markers on a playing field.  But I digress... 

Even with his skinny frame, he began blasting balls out of the park to all fields while wearing one of Tony Oliva's #6 uniforms  It grew so conspicuous that then-Twins manager Sam Mele hustled him off the field - fearing the Yankees might beat the Twins to the punch and sign him to an amateur free agent contract. Carew remembers catcher Earl Battey coming up to him afterwards, remarking "Hey, how's it goin,' skinny kid?" He signed a free agent minor league contract with the Twins on June 24, 1964.

From Montana Standard (June 28, 1964)

Intriguing, How Things Might Have Been...

1967 Twins Issued Photo:
The Rookie, Rod Carew

Rod played in the Cocoa Rookie League (see minor league stats) that first summer, before moving up to "A" ball for the seasons of 1965 and '66.  It is not well known that the Twins, along with other teams during the Vietnam War era (see "Hardball Times article on major leaguers in 'Nam), had him designated for an early call up to the majors during the 1965 season.  The possiblity existed that players could be selected any time for active duty overseas.  Rookie catcher John Sevcik and second baseman Bernie Allen were both eligible for the draft, but the call never came. Intriguing, the thought of Rod Carew starting at second base against Sandy Koufax and the Dodgers in the 1965 World Series! Cool, actually!

Below: boxscore of first spring training game 

played by Rod Carew in Twins uniform

Sunday, March 14, 1965

[picture at left: the Twins middle infield, spring training, 1970]  As it was, he went right from A ball to the major leagues in 1967. But that was only because Twins team owner fought for him to be included onto the opening day roster, over Manager Sam Mele's objections. The skipper wanted to give Carew more seasoning, to develop his fielding prowess.  The curmudgeonly owner prevailed.

Griffith was vindicated as Carew was voted Rookie of The Year in 1967 (voting results).  That was the year the greatest pennant chase in baseball history took place, when 4 teams could have mathematically won the pennant on the last day of the season.  The Red Sox won out over the Twins, Tigers and White Sox for the chance to advance to the World Series against the St. Louis Cardinals. See my post on Rod's Major League Debut, "In The O's Nest."

The Stealer - 1969

Rod and the Twins both had what was considered a subpar year in 1968. Before the 1969 season, he and newly assigned manager Billy Martin retooled his running game and his fielding maneuvers; he also switched to a heavier bat, with a bigger barrel. It forced him to cut back his swing, discourage him from overswinging, and gain bat control.  The result was his first American League batting title, which he corralled by hitting .332.

Remember, this was against the backdrop of the Vietnam War, Woodstock, Led Zepplen, student protests, and civil unrest in many cities nationwide, Chuck Manson (ugh!). But all I remember from that season was a lovely summer, Fourth of July fireworks, my mom, dad and family, swimming outings to nearby lakes...and, of course, the inspired play of a surging baseball team with many, colorful stars - including Rod. He was also participating in National Guard drills during that season (a sure sign of the times!), which took him away from competition for many games at a time.

He also gained notoriety with his seven steals of home (one short of Ty Cobb's season record), a facet of his performance that year recalled wonderfully in the highlighted blog account.

Billy Martin suggested that Carew take a long, walking lead instead of coming to a stop. How long a lead Carew took depended on how close the third baseman was to the bag and whether the pitcher went into his windup or checked him from the stretch position.

Of his seven steals of home during the 1969 season under the approving eye of manager Martin, Rod Carew used the surprise factor five times in the first inning.

[Stealing against Angels, 1969]

''Pitchers,'' Carew has explained, ''don't expect you to take a risk so early and kill off a potential rally.'' Carew also ran in a crouch that, he believed, propelled him toward the plate faster. But he also knew when not to try to steal home. Never with two strikes or three balls on the batter. Never with none out. Even so Carew had six steals of home by June and in July he equaled Pete Reiser's 1941 record. He stole home nine more times in his career, but he was a marked man.