ANDY CAREY
1959
April 18: Four RBIs on home run and three singles in rout of Red Sox.
May 9: Down with virus, out three weeks.
May 27: Hits home run in 3-2 victory over Red Sox.
August 15: Returns to active list after layoff since June 8 with more illness.
Comment: "Plagued by injury and illness, Carey played little. A crack fielder and fair hitter, he's tempting trade bait if the Yankees can't use him."
-Joe Sheehan, Dell Sports Magazine Baseball, April 1960
"This is a critical year for Andy Carey. He started his Yankee career with a bang, slumped a little bit for a couple of years, then came back strong in 1958. Last year, Andy was hoping for that long-awaited BIG year. But the fates were against him. He was out virtually the entire season with a low-grade infection. Completely cured now, Carey is hoping to 'come back' along with the Yanks.
Five years ago, Andy married the lovely Lucy Marlowe, the TV and movie actress, and they have two handsome youngsters. So there's added incentive for that good year for Andy."
-The New York Yankees Official 1960 Yearbook
Andrew Arthur Carey (3B) #6
Born October 18, 1931 in Oakland, California, resides in Malibu, California. Height: 6-1, weight: 198. Bats right, throws right. Married and father of one boy, James Kenneth (3 1/2), and one girl, Jennifer (6 months).
-The New York Yankees Official 1960 Yearbook
"One of the most sought after players and mentioned in almost every 'trade' during the hot stove sessions, Andy Carey is back in his ninth season with the Yankees. The handsome blond third baseman was on the disabled list most of last season but is now fully recovered from his siege of glandular fever.
The 6'1" Oakland, California, native was signed by the Yankees for a bonus in 1951 after attending St. Mary's College. He played for Kansas City in the American Association, hitting .288 with 14 home runs in his first year of pro ball.
The Yanks gave him a fast look-see in 1952 when he also played for K.C. and Syracuse of the International League. In 1953, Carey made the Yankees and has been with the club ever since. As a freshman he hit a torrid .321 in 51 contests and in his second season made the select circle with a .302 mark in 122 tilts.
Now, 28, Andy has fair power as his 12 homers in 1958 attest. He led the American League in 1955 with 11 three-baggers. Andy's lifetime record shows 47 homers and a .266 batting average. He's a slick fielder at third base but lacks the versatility that Casey Stengel looks for in his ball players.
Married to actress Lucy Marlow, the Careys live in Corona Del Mar, California, with their two children."
-New York Yankees 1960 Yearbook (Jay Publishing Co.)
KENT HADLEY
L-L. A left-handed first baseman with good power from the University of Southern California. Breaking in with Syracuse (A) late last year, he had six homers, six doubles, 17 RBI's and a .289 average in 29 games.
-Baseball Digest, March 1957
L-L. In first full pro year former University of Southern Cal. star hit .279 in 130 games for Augusta (A), eighth among Sally League regulars. Broke in with .190 in 27 games for Augusta and .289 in 29 games for Syracuse (A) in '56. Secured from Detroit January 8 as part of Billy Martin deal.
German-English-French. Born and resides in Pocatello, Idaho.
Scouting Report: "Good power. Strong Arm. Fair afield. Needs experience."
-Baseball Digest, March 1958
L-L. Led Southern Association (2A) with 34 HR's and batted in 91 runs for Little Rock, but hit only .245. In other full year hit .279 for August (A).
German-English-French. Born and resides in Pocatello, Idaho.
Scouting Report: "Not ready for majors yet but is a good prospect. Has excellent power at plate. Although average otherwise, his bat will carry him."
-Baseball Digest, March 1959
1959
April 15: Three RBIs on home run, double and single against White Sox.
May 17: Hits two-run homer as A's down Yanks, 10-0.
June 11: Three RBIs on home run and single as A's beat Yanks.
June 20: Hits homer and two singles in 6-2 win over Orioles.
June 27: Beats Senators, 5-4, with single in 10th.
June 29: Leads 10-3 rout of Tigers with home run, double and single.
August 28: Two RBIs in 6-1 win over Senators.
September 5: Hits two home runs in 5-4 loss to Tigers.
Comment: "Hadley showed good potential as a rookie. He has enough power to rate a fine chance."
-Joe Sheehan, Dell Sports Magazine Baseball, April 1960
"When Bill Skowron came up with a series of injuries last season, the Yankees had to resort to moving Ellie Howard to first base. General Manager George Weiss was determined to remedy this situation and he obtained Kent Hadley, 25-year-old left-handed swinger in the deal with K.C. If spring training is any indication of Hadley's future value to the Yankees, you'll be seeing more of this hard-hitting first sacker.
A graduate of the University of Southern California, he holds a BA degree in anthropology. He captained the S.C. baseball team in his senior year (1956) and was named a first-team college All-American. In his first time at bat at Yankee Stadium (last May), he hit a home run into the right field seats."
-The New York Yankees Official 1960 Yearbook
Kent William Hadley (1B) #25
Born December 17, 1934 in Pocatello, Idaho where he resides. Height: 6-3, Weight: 190. Bats left, throws left. Married and father of one girl, Lynn Louise (2).
-The New York Yankees Official 1960 Yearbook
"Selected to the All-American college baseball team in 1955, Kent Hadley was graduated from the University of Southern California and is probably the only big leaguer to hold a degree in anthropology.
The 25-year-old first sacker played in the Detroit organization and, after three seasons in the minors, was sent to the Kansas City Athletics along with Frank House, Duke Maas and Bill Tuttle in a deal for Billy Martin, Lou Skizas and Gus Zernial among others.
In the minors, he did little to distinguish himself until 1958 when he poked out 34 home runs for Little Rock to take the Southern Association home run crown.
With the Athletics, the 6'3" lefty appeared in 113 contests and batted .253. He showed power with 10 homers and 11 doubles among his 73 hits.
One of the four-baggers was a tremendous drive into the right-center field bleachers at Yankee Stadium."
-New York Yankees 1960 Yearbook (Jay Publishing Co.)
FRANK LEJA
"The first Yankee 'bonus baby,' big Frank Leja lost two valuable years sitting on the Yankee bench in 1954 and '55. After that he had to start the climb up the minor league ladder, gaining invaluable playing experience.
A long ball hitter who produces the important RBIs, Frank still must learn to hit more consistently. Unfortunately for him each spring, he's a slow starter. In the last three seasons, he's rapped out 74 homers and driven across 301 runs. Figures like these indicate bright days ahead."
-The New York Yankees Official 1960 Yearbook
Frank John Leja (1B) #27
Born February 7, 1936 in Holyoke, Mass., resides in Nahant, Mass. Height: 6-4, weight: 210. Bats left, throws left. Married and father of one boy, Frank Carl (1).
-The New York Yankees Official 1960 Yearbook
"Signed as a bonus baby back in 1954, Frank Leja spent two seasons riding the Yankee bench when he could have been playing ball in the minors and gaining valuable experience but for the bonus rule of that time.
Now a mature 24, the 6'4" slugger from Holyoke, Mass., is back in the Bronx with an eye on first base rather than a seat on the bench.
Since leaving the parent club, Frank has played in Richmond, Binghamton, Winston-Salem and New Orleans, though not necessarily in that order. Leja's first good year in Organized Ball was in Binghamton of the Eastern League. Although only hitting .244, he poked out 22 homers and drove in 117 runs. And he also had 25 doubles and a brace of triples among his 117 hits.
In Double-A competition the following year, Frank upped his home run and batting marks. He hit .263 for New Orleans of the Southern Association and found the fence on 29 occasions.
Last year, with the International League Richmond Virginians, Leja continued to hit the long ball as his 23 homers, 17 doubles and three triples attest."
-New York Yankees 1960 Yearbook (Jay Publishing Co.)
ELMER VALO
A'S CENTER FIELD HERITAGE
Valo Tries To Follow In Footsteps Of Chapman, Et Al.
"If anyone is worried about the ability of Elmer Valo to play center field for the Philadelphia A's, it isn't Elmer Valo.
'I'll play anywhere he (Jimmie Dykes) wants me to,' said the chubby Czech, 'and I'd worry only if he didn't let me play at all. That day, I hope, will never come.'
What's center field have that right field doesn't?
'Not too much,' Valo replied. 'More territory to cover. I like that. Two guys to back up instead of one. That keeps you moving. The throw is a little different. I'll get used to that- in time.'
His confidence didn't seem too firm about throwing. He grinned sheepishly.
'The arm has gone dead on me,' he admitted. 'It happens every spring. It felt wonderful when I started spring training. But it's tightened up on me. I guess I was too frisky with it. By now, I should know better.'
Basically, the switch of Valo was caused by the transfer of Sam Chapman to Cleveland last season. After Sambo had gone away, Dave Philley and Allie Clark played the position, but neither was quite up to expectations.
From Ollie Pickering to Chapman, the A's have long been accustomed to having a top man patrol the middle territory in the outfield.
Bris Lord, Amos Strunk, Rube Oldring, Bing Miller, Tilly Walker, Roger Cramer, Mule Haas and Wally Moses are some of the others who helped make center field an invulnerable spot in Connie Mack's defensive set-up over more than fifty years.
Faster runners and showier performers than Chapman have played the position for the A's, but none with greater effect. Strunk was probably the fastest and most sure-handed. He was with the club in the years the A's were winning pennants in four of five years, starting in 1910, and his record most years (five) in leading the league fielding percentage still stands. Chapman, who knew hitters and where to play for them, was as dependable as they come. In each of four seasons, he scored 400 or more putouts, which is also an American League record.
Most of the old A's fans probably remember Miller as a right fielder because that was he was on Mack's last championship teams.
'I played a lot of center field,' said the Dykes lieutenant. 'That when Bill Lamar was in left, remember? I was after Walker and before Haas.'
Miller, who is coaching Valo, doesn't regard it as much of a task to convert the Czech into a center fielder. He shouldn't. He had a much tougher job changing Hank Greenberg over from a first baseman to an outfielder when he was with Detroit a dozen years ago.
'In some respects, it's easier to play center than right,' Miller said. 'In center, it isn't often that you have to play a hook or a slice. Most of the balls hit out there have only top spin. The ball stays up there. That's the trouble, sometimes. It stays up longer than you think it will. If it gets back of you, you're a mess.'
'In center, you have a good look at the pitch, and that you don't get if you're playing in right. If the pitch is on the hitter's fists away from him or down the middle you know how to play it- if you know your hitters.
'So, in center you can get a comfortable jump on the ball that you can't get in right. If the pitch is outside to a right-handed hitter, you're apt to get a slice and you'll have to make an explosive start to get it if you're in right field.
'I think Elmer's going to be okay in center. He has a good arm and that's important. You can get away with playing in left if you have a weak arm, but not in right or center.
'Another great thing about Valo is that he'll work. No one works harder than he does.' "
-Ed Pollack, condensed from the Philadelphia Bulletin (Baseball Digest, March 1952)
DISCRETION ...
"Jimmie Dykes' move of transforming Elmer Valo into a center fielder is at what he calls a great risk to Gus Zerinal in right field and Allie Clark who is playing in left. 'Maybe I'll give him a walkie-talkie so he can tell those two guys to keep out of his way,' said Dykes. 'That Valo would tear through a stone wall if he was chasing a baseball.' Discretion ain't the better part of Valo."
-Shirley Povich, Washington Post (Baseball Digest, March 1952)
DISCRETION ISN'T THE BETTER PART OF VALO
"Someone has said, or at least someone should have said, that when it comes to chasing a baseball, discretion is not the better part of Valo. Of Elmer Valo, that is.
'One of these days,' claims James Joseph Dykes, the eminent raconteur and youth guidance expert, 'that guy is going to ram right through a wall in pursuit of duty. I hope he doesn't get hurt. And, of course, I hope he holds the ball.'
Thus far, Valo, who works for J.J. as the right fielder of the Philadelphia Athletics, has escaped serious injury in his assault upon walls in American League parks. He has, it should be noted in the interest of accuracy, suffered broken ribs, muscle hemorrhages and assorted cuts and contusions, but insists that they were mere 'bumps.' And on very few occasions has he failed to hold on to the ball.
One of those occasions came during a game between the A's and the St. Louis Browns at Philadelphia's Shibe Park last August 23. With Don Lenhardt, a right-handed pull hitter at bat, the A's outfield veered toward left field. Valo wound up in right center, a country mile away from the foul line.
So what did Lenhardt do? He wafted a towering fly ball toward the right field corner. Zoom! Valo took out after it. Zip! Elmer churned across the lawn, legs pumping furiously, and just as the ball was about to fall a foot or so inside fair territory, he reached out and gloved it.
And then- boom! Still going full tilt, Valo crashed into the grandstand wall. The ball went one way, the glove another, and Lenhardt went around the bases for an inside homer. Elmer lay motionless in the Browns' bullpen. It looked like a clear case for the coroner.
But Valo revived quickly under the ministrations of Trainer Packy Schwartz and was able to leave the field under his own power. It wasn't until a half hour later in the clubhouse, where a physician found that he had sustained simple contusions and abrasions on the head and left arm, that Elmer got hep to what happened.
'Good thing that was a foul ball,' he said, 'or that guy would have had a home run.'
'But it wasn't a foul,' somebody told him. 'And Lenhardt got a homer out of it.'
Valo's ruggedly handsome features dropped into an expression of regret. 'I can't understand it,' he said. 'I'm used to knocking myself out on those walls, and I figured I always could hold the ball, even when I was out cold. Maybe I'm losing my grip.'
It required earnest argumentation by just about every member of the club to convince Elmer that not only wasn't he losing his grip but that only an out-and-out hustler would have laid a glove on the ball at all.
If you had to select one word to describe Elmer William Valo, it would be 'hustler.' He is one of those ball players who commands a great deal more respect within the trade than he gets from the average fan. Although he has batted over .300 in four of his nine full seasons with the A's (he hit .281 last year because of a percentage-withering slump in mid-season), even the most pyretic of A's adherents are likely to skip over him in discussing the team's good batsmen.
'Valo?' they say. 'Oh, yeah. He's a fence buster, all right. Only he doesn't bust fences with the ball. He busts 'em by running into 'em.'
But to the laboring class in the American League, who respect but don't envy him as the most daring outfielder around, Valo is a solid ball player who can do a lot more than joust with the ramparts.
'Don't try to tell me Valo is just a fellow who knocks himself out on the fences,' Early Wynn, the Cleveland right-hander, has said. 'He's handy with that bat, too- especially in the clutch.' Wynn isn't just talking. Last April 30 Valo waffled a two-run homer off him to break a tie and give Bobby Shantz a 3-1 victory over Early and the Indians.
Paul Richards, the White Sox boss, who has an abiding love for players who give out with even more than extra effort, is one of Valo's admirers from afar. 'Elmer,' Richards once remarked, 'is one of the most underrated men in baseball. He can beat you with his bat, his fielding and- above all- his hustle.'
There was the night in 1951 when the A's and the White Sox were tied up in the Philadelphia half of the twelfth inning with Gus Zernial at bat and Valo on second base. Zernial singled to left center and Valo took off for home. The throw-in plunked into the mitt of Catcher Gus Niarhos while Valo was still at least ten feet from the plate.
But Niarhos made a strategic blunder. Instead of standing aside and tagging Valo as he went by, Gus straddled the line, dug his spikes into the dirt and waited for Elmer to come on. The poor fellow would have been safer lighting a cigar in a dynamite factory.
Gus made the tag all right. But Valo plowed right into him, and up in the stands strong men turned pale. Niarhos did a flip-flop and landed prostrate on the first base side of the plate, knocked colder than a mint julep. The ball trickled away, and Valo sprawled across the plate with the winning run. Elmer came out of the affair with a black eye. Niarhos wasn't the same for months.
Then there was the 1948 afternoon at Yankee Stadium when Tommy Henrich hammered the whey out of a pitch and sent it on a line toward the right field grandstand. From out of what is referred to as nowhere came Valo to spear the ball, only to crash into the low retaining wall that is the bane of all who must play right field at the Stadium.
For a sickening moment, Elmer lay atop the wall, unconscious. Then, grotesquely, he toppled back onto the grass and lay there. When Sam Chapman, the A's center fielder, reached his stricken teammate, he found Elmer clutching the ball tightly with both hands. Chapman had difficulty prying it loose.
'Let me have it, Elmer. Let go!' he kept saying. 'Henrich's out, so let go.'
Valo has a hazy recollection of Chapman taking the ball from him. 'I thought I was still hanging on that wall,' he says, 'and that some fan was trying to grab the ball out of my hands so Henrich would have a home run. I wasn't going to let go.'
Elmer bruised his left side in making that catch and was sidelined for five days. Then, because he felt the team needed him, he asked and got Connie Mack's permission to return to the lineup, despite sharp pains in his side. His first day back, he crashed into the box-seat wall at St. Louis. Three games later, he plowed into a wall at Chicago and had to leave the field. It was then that somebody got the bright idea that maybe Valo's side should be X-rayed. It was. The picture revealed two broken ribs.
'Whether I did it in New York, St. Louis or Chicago,' says Elmer, 'I'll never know.'
Probably the best summation of Valo's philosophy of ball playing lies in the answer he himself once gave to a sports writer who asked him to account for the unusually high number of injuries he has sustained.
'You have to take chances,' he said, 'for the sake of the pitchers. If you don't help your pitchers, the team can't win. And when the team can't win, it's no good.'
If Valo has a glaring weakness as a player, it is his tendency to blame himself for his team's defeats. When the A's lose, Elmer can figure out a dozen different reasons why he was responsible.
'I suppose it's foolish,' he says, 'but I can't help it. People keep telling me to take it easy. But how can you take it easy after you've lost a ball game? I replay the game in my mind, and I get to figuring if I had done this instead of that, we might have had a big winning and won.'
Al Simmons watched the husky (five-foot-ten-and-one-half, 190 lb) Valo take his left-handed swings in batting practice. 'There,' said Al, 'is a guy who should never hit less than .340. He has the timing, the co-ordination and the strength. If he could only learn to relax a little, he'd be great.'
It may be- and this is merely a theory- that Valo's almost abnormal willingness to shoulder more than his share of the load and his inability to relax are manifestations of something Elmer has felt since early boyhood.
He was born Imrich Valo in Ribnik, Czechoslovakia, on March 5, 1921. Six years later his parents, Joseph and Katharine Valo, who were farm people in the old country, brought him to the United States. The family settled in Palmerton, Pa. (pop. 9,000), where Joseph Valo had obtained work in the zinc plant that is the community's only major industry.
From the start, the father and the mother impressed upon their son his responsibility as an American citizen. And as he grew, young Imrich came to realize what too many of the native born are prone to forget- that being an American is the greatest privilege in the world.
'I have always felt,' he will tell you now with disarming simplicity, 'that I have a sacred obligation to the country that has given me so many wonderful opportunities. It is my duty to do my best in whatever I undertake and never shirk responsibility.'
During the off-season, Valo is the Athletics' principal good-will ambassador. He speaks before church groups, boys' clubs and such throughout eastern Pennsylvania. Always his theme is the value of sports and their relation to American principles.
Does that sound corny? It doesn't if you have ever heard Valo enlarge on the theme. Proudly he speaks of the miracle of America, of how wonderful it is that a man can play baseball or open a store or do anything else he may want to do, so long as he obeys the laws of the land. 'In the country where I was born,' he adds poignantly, 'it is no longer possible to do the things free men have the right to do.'
Last summer Valo made a recorded broadcast to his native land which the Voice of America beamed through the Iron Curtain. 'I hope it helped,' he says. 'Any time anyone can speak up for freedom it is good.'
When Valo was a first-grade pupil in a Palmerton parochial school, one of the nuns decided his name should be changed from Imrich to Emery. So for one year he was Emery Valo. Then another nun renamed him James, and for the next seven years the name stuck. Finally, at 14, the boy himself decided his name should be Elmer William, and the change was made legally. Elmer's only reason for selecting the name was that he liked the sound of it.
At Palmerton High School, Elmer played basketball, caught and played the outfield for the baseball team, and was an all-around track and field performer. He ran the 100- and 220-yard dashes (best time for the 100: ten seconds flat) and competed in all the weight sports. Baseball was his favorite, and Elmer credits Bill Brocker, his high school coach, with having given him solid groundwork in fundamentals. In the summers, he played American Legion baseball in nearby Leighton under a knowledgeable baseball man named Edgar Paulsen, who put the A's on his trail.
Roy Mack, now the executive vice-president of the A's, went to Leighton for a gander at Elmer, then a high school sophomore, in 1937, and was so impressed that the following summer he arranged for the young man to come to Philadelphia to play twilight ball with Wentz-Olney, one of the city's strong semipro teams.
In 1939, after Valo's graduation from high school, the A's signed him and shipped him to their Federalsburg (Md.) farm in the now defunct Eastern Shore League. He was told to forget about being a catcher and to concentrate on learning the niceties of outfield play. This didn't include fence-crashing, but Elmer went ahead and learned that art, anyway.
He batted .374 for Federalsburg and the following season, playing for Wilmington (Del.) in the Class B Inter-State League, swung at a league-leading .364 clip. The A's called him up for a brief whirl at the end of the season, and again at the finish of the 1941 campaign, during which he had batted .324 at Wilmington. He went to training camp with the parent club in 1942 and has been around ever since.
After the 1941 season, Elmer went home to Palmerton and married his childhood sweetheart, Anna Zelienka, whose parents had also come to America from Ribnik. Elmer and Anna live in a modest home in Palmerton with their three children, Jimmy, nine, Ann, seven, and Joseph, three. Elmer is a devoted family man. For the last eight years he has been an accredited basketball official (he worked one season in the Eastern Professional League) and now could keep busy every night during the season refereeing college and high school games. But during the 1952-53 season, he limited himself to two games a week.
'I wanted to spend all the time I possibly could with my family,' he explains. 'It is my duty to teach my children to be good citizens, and the only way a father can do that is to be with them in the home.'
This past winter, Valo worked as a salesman for the Horlacher Brewing Company in Allentown, Pa., and did well. So well, in fact, that he has decided to make a full-time career of selling when his baseball career ends.
There was a time when his ambition was to become an umpire. This used to make him the object of good natured snorts of derision by his teammates who maintained that, when it came to knowledge of the rules of the game, Elmer didn't know a foul fly from a fungo.
But during spring training in 1948, Valo spent a few mornings at Bill McGowan's umpires' school in West Palm Beach, Fla., and took the graduation examination.
'He passed the tests with the highest marks,' McGowan reported, somewhat taken aback.
Valo is an omnivorous reader, particularly of magazines. During World War II, he was a lieutenant in the Army's Medical Administrative Corps (he missed the 1944 and 1945 seasons with the A's because of his military service), and men who served with him say he could recite the Army Regulations by the hour without prompting. This wasn't a case of photographic memory. Elmer simply had read them so often that he knew every comma.
At 32, Valo is hopeful that 1953 will be his best season. Although he batted .307 in 1946, .300 in 1947, .305 the following year and .302 in 1951, he considers his outstanding campaign to date to be 1949, in which he hit only .283 but batted in 85 runs.
'What good is a .300 batting average,' he asks, 'if it doesn't produce many runs for the team?'
By this time it should be apparent that, with Elmer, the team is the thing. In 1948, after his dive bomb crash into the wall at Yankee Stadium, he was hospitalized in Philadelphia with a severe bruise and muscle hemorrhage above the left hip. After three days in bed, he talked his way out of the hospital and rejoined the A's in Cleveland.
'Sure, I still have the hemorrhage,' he told his teammates, 'but I want to be with the team. What the heck- if I'm going to bleed in Philadelphia, why can't I bleed just as well out here?' "
-Edgar Williams (Baseball Digest, April 1953)
"Before I quit baseball, I have one burning ambition ... to be in that other dugout.' So said Elmer Valo on a trip to Yankee Stadium with an opposing team. At age 39, Elmer gets his wish.
He won't be seen regularly in the outfield. But when he does appear there, you'll know he's playing. Elmer always plays hard and gives his best.
His chief function, according to Manager Casey Stengel, will be as a pinch hitter. He did a competent job in this important function during spring training and should give the Yankees added bench strength in 1960.
This will be Elmer's 20th big league season, counting more than two off for military service. He has spent most of his career in the American League."
-The New York Yankees Official 1960 Yearbook
Elmer William Valo (OF) #17
Born March 5, 1921 in Ribnik, Czechoslovakia, resides in Palmerton, Pa. Height: 5-10, weight: 195. Bats left, throws right. Married and father of two boys, James (16) and Joseph (10) and two girls, Ann (14) and Mary Jane (3).
-The New York Yankees Official 1960 Yearbook
"The 39-year-old native of Ribnik, Czechoslovakia, has been on the major league scene since 1940, when he reached the big time with the Philadelphia Athletics.
Elmer, who now resides in Palmerton, Pa., with his wife and four youngsters, has a lifetime batting average of .284 in 1,639 major league contests. Not a slugger- he has 57 homers in this span- Valo is a hard competitor who hustles in the tradition of Enos Slaughter.
A lefty batter who tosses orthodox, Valo broke into Organized Ball with Federalsburg. He batted .364 for Wilmington in winning the Inter-State League batting title in 1940 and earned a promotion to the A's. He spent part of '41 with Wilmington before coming back to Philadelphia to stay.
The 5'10" Valo spent the 1944 and '45 seasons in military service. He batted .307, .300 and .305 in his first three seasons back in a baseball uniform.
Elmer was sold to Philadelphia in the National League by the Kansas City A's. He spent the 1957 and '58 seasons with the Dodgers, in Brooklyn and Los Angeles, before going to Seattle of the Pacific Coast League last season.
Valo, who also appeared in 34 contests for Cleveland in 1959, was picked up by the Yankees in December."
-New York Yankees 1960 Yearbook (Jay Publishing Co.)
FRED KIPP
L-L. Winningest lefty- and wildest hurler- in International League last year. Won 20, lost 7, walked 118 for Montreal. ERA: 3.33. Held opponents to .236 BA but also tied for most homers allowed, 22. Voted I.L.'s rookie of the year. Only second full pro year.
After getting B.S. from Kansas State Teachers in '53, became leading pitcher in Tri-State League (B) with 15 wins, 5 defeats, 2 .23 ERA for Asheville. Fanned 144 in 165 innings. After two Army years finished out '55 with Mobile (AA) with 4-2, 2.34.
Has excellent repertoire including sharp knuckler. Home: Piqua, Kansas.
Scouting Report: "Can't miss. An outstanding rookie who goes on the field determined to beat you- and usually does. Due to make headlines."
Baseball Digest, March 1957
L-L. Poor start made him International League's losingest pitcher in 1957 after being winningest lefty in same loop in '56. His 8-17, 4.09 for Montreal was sharp contrast to previous year's 20-7, 3.33, but cut walks from wildest-in-league 118 in '56 to 83.
Has had only three full pro years. Born and resides in Piqua, Kansas.
Scouting Report: "Appeared tired from winter ball during first half of '57. Sort of herky-jerky lefty, with pretty good fast ball and good assortment of curves and changes. Throws knucklers, too. Will go as far as control will permit."
Baseball Digest, March 1958
"Long an outstanding pitching prospect with the Dodgers, Fred Kipp was obtained during spring training to add a lefty to the Yankee bullpen. Possessor of a knuckleball in his varied repertoire, Fred will be new to American League hitters.
He had a 14-11 record at St. Paul last year and was 6-6 in his first full season with Los Angeles in 1958. Kipp was impressive in his early appearances and hopes to contribute to the Yankees' pennant aspirations."
-The New York Yankees Official 1960 Yearbook
Fred Leo Kipp (P) #29
Born October 1, 1931 in Piqua, Kansas, where he resides. Height: 6-3, weight: 200. Bats left, throws left.
-The New York Yankees Official 1960 Yearbook
ZACH MONROE
"Monroe was 10 and 2 in May of '58 when the Yanks brought him up from the Bears. Appearing in 21 American League tilts, he worked 58 innings and was credited with four wins in six decisions.
Last season he was sent to Richmond of the International League. His 10-11 is not indicative of his I.L. performance. With Steve Souchock's Virginians, Zach's ERA was a fine 2.45.
Now nearing his 29th birthday, Zach Monroe knows that this is the year if he's going to make it with the Yankees.
A native of Peoria, Illinois, Monroe attended and was graduated from Bradley University where he played both baseball and basketball. The six-foot right-hander broke into Organized Ball with Quincy of the Three-Eye League in 1952. After two seasons in military service he was promoted to Binghamton of the Eastern League.
In his second season with the Class A Triplets, 1956, Monroe won 16 and lost seven and posted a 2.67 earned run average. The Yankees advanced him to Triple-A ball, with Denver of the American Association, in 1957, and Zach showed a 16-10 slate in 36 games."
-New York Yankees 1960 Yearbook (Jay Publishing Co.)
GRANNY HAMNER
GRAN-D YOUNG MAN OF THE PHILLIES
He's N.L.'s Budding "Mr. Shortstop"
"In the British Army in the First World War, the grizzled veterans had a derisively affectionate saying that applied to their monocled subalterns.
Those lads who were frequently mistaken for West End and palace fops stood the defenses at Ypres. They charged at Gallipoli. They trekked the killing sands with Allenby.
Yet the veterans used to say, 'Aye, we'll go into action and a little child shall lead us.'
The younger the leader the more devoted were the 'H'alfs and 'Erberts.
In the National League of Professional Baseball Clubs there are no flying bullets nor are there any decimating deserts. But there are daily battles of brawn and courage; there are moments when a bolstered morale is as important as a base hit.
And like a battling regiment, there must be someone to keep spirits up and be the rallying soul to whom the rest of the outfit looks for guidance and spunk.
Eddie Sawyer is like a regimental commander. But he can't be everywhere on the field when the Phillies' famed Whiz Kids are in action. He plots masterful strategy and inspires confidence.
But the 'little child' who really leads these amazing Phillies and keeps them barreling along at fever pitch is Granville Hamner.
It's easy enough to argue that he's the best shortstop in the National League. St. Louis partisans, despite the antiquity of Marty Marion, will argue to their last gasp that their glorious stringbean is still the nonpareil. In Brooklyn, the 'dese, dem and dose' guys talk about nose punchers unless Pee Wee Reese is handed the palm.
There are Buddy Kerr, Alvin Dark, Stan Rojek, Roy Smalley and Virgil Stallcup to complete the roster of National League shortstops.
The American League has the heavy-hitting Vern Stephens, the graceful all-around ability of Scooter Rizzuto, the veteran savvy of Eddie Joost and the waning grace of Lou Boudreau, but it has nothing more to compare with this National League array of shortstopping talent.
And so from practically every angle, the answer is Hamner as the budding 'Mr. Shortstop' of the majors.
To the Phils, he is the field leader.
He's an outspoken kid, just twenty-three years old, lean and aggressive, a magnificent fielder, a distance hitter who is too ready to castigate himself when he doesn't deliver every time he swings, and a lad who had to fight his way to major league acceptance against the most punishing odds that probably any youngster ever faced.
Top this off with one of the best throwing arms in baseball and that's the kid practically every expert sneered at for three years.
Don't think Hamner didn't suffer from those sneers. And those boos and catcalls and castigations when he was but sixteen and seventeen years of age. He did.
Maybe some of those recriminations brought out the best in him. He's like one of those old-time fighters who, when knocked down with a numbing punch, got up off the floor so dazedly mad, that they tore into their opponents with murder in their hearts.
Off the field Ham is a delightful guy. When the team's home, he and his charming wife and their three-year-old daughter, Patti, stroll together each night, go to the movies, sip soft drinks, and live quietly.
But watch and listen to him in a ball game.
He constantly admonishes his pitcher to 'get the ball over the plate,' 'stop clowning up there,' 'don't lose your guts,' 'that's guy's a bum.' There isn't a hitter in the league who ought to be walked unless the Skipper says so.
And on a double play, a player in the league is sure to start his slide to second early. For he knows that Hamner's chain-lighting throw is going to be on a line to Eddie Waitkus, whether or not a skull is in the way.
Hamner isn't a deliberate killer. If he ever hit a runner on the head it's a 100-to-1 shot he'd kill him. But Hamner's job is to get the ball to first base.
One day in Chicago as he made the throw that completed a double play he almost hit Wayne Terwilliger. The Cubs' second baseman was a newcomer to the big wheel. He didn't know Hamner's intensity of purpose and probably didn't realize how Gran would throw. He made his slide late, thinking he'd force Gran to step inside the diamond and throw so he'd miss the double play. He was wrong.
'I almost got me a Terwilliger after the game,' said Hamner after the game.
'I don't know how you missed him,' said Waitkus.
'If you'd hit him, you'd 'a' killed him,' said Willie Jones, the third baseman.
'I wouldn't want to hurt any base runner,' said Hamner, 'but how are you gonna miss a guy who comes in standing up? It's his job to break up the double play. It's my job to make it. If he wants to take that chance, that's his business. But I'm glad I didn't hit him.'
Hamner was born in Richmond, Va., went to high school there and played sandlot baseball. It was while he was in high school that Ben Chapman, then manager of the Richmond Colts, saw him.
There were two Hamner brothers, Granville and Garvin. Garvin's a little older. As kids Garvin was the better hitter.
Chapman went back to the majors for a final fling. He went to Brooklyn, thence to the Phillies where he inspired the late Herb Pennock to sign both brothers. Granville at the time was sixteen. It was during the war. The Phillies, over the past thirty years, have had some gosh-awful teams but the one they had during the past war was probably the worst they ever fielded.
So Granville came to the majors. He made so many errors that what few fans patronized the Phils in those days seemed to come out for no other reason than to boo Hamner.
Freddie Fitzsimmons was the Phils manager. On a particularly horrendous afternoon Gran was so erratic and the fans so violent that the kid left the field in tears and was on the verge of going back home never again to look at a baseball. That's a twice-told tale. So was Fitzsimmons' fatherly reaction that kept the youngster on the club.
No one knows, however, how kindly Herb Pennock consoled the kid. Nor how Eddie Sawyer rebuilt Hamner's confidence in the minors, re-bolstered the boy's morale and made Gran believe in himself.
'I hated to think of even putting on a suit,' Ham said. 'I was only sixteen years old. I wanted to play ball more than anything I could think of. But the very thought of getting out there almost killed every bit of ambition I had.'
In training camp, after some slight minor league experience, Gran wasn't exactly impressive. He had a game ankle to boot. He injured it in the Army. Just about the time he looked as if he had a chance, the ankle would go back on him. Then, too, the Phillies had Eddie Miller, a veteran kingpin, to play shortstop.
Ham wasn't sure that Miller wouldn't give him the business, trying to stay in the big league as long as possible.
But there Ham misjudged a guy. Miller knew his days were numbered. He liked the spirit of the kid who wouldn't quit. Day in and day out at Clearwater, Miller worked with the Hamner. He showed him how to play batters. He showed him how to throw from any position. He taught him the pick-off play with pitchers. There wasn't a thing that Miller knew that he didn't explain to Hamner.
In the meantime, some bright observer from the St. Louis Browns 'discovered' W.G. Hamner. The secret of this strategic move is the fact that both brothers have the same initials. One is W. Garvin Hamner, the other is W. Granville Hamner. But in 1947 when both brothers were in the minors, Granville was recalled by the Phillies from Utica of the Eastern League while Garvin was left with Memphis.
Wily Herb Pennock, having given up on Garvin as a prospect, contrived to have his name entered on the draft list as 'W.G. Hamner.' When it came the Browns' turn to call for a player their representative merely said, 'W.G. Hamner.' Actually, the Browns wanted Granny. But when the time came to turn over the player they got Garvin. In fact, they still have Garvin, but Garvin has yet to wear a St. Louis uniform in an American League game. He's at San Antonio in the Texas League?
Where's Granville?
Where everyone knows where he his. With the Phillies getting better by the day.
From the outset of the 1950 season, Granny has been the rallying point of the Phils. Del Ennis and Dick Sisler are the powerhouses; Eddie Waitkus, the wizard at first base; Dick Whitman and Richie Ashburn, alternate dervishes in center field; Robin Roberts, Curt Simmons, Bob Miller, Ken Heintzelman, Russ Meyer, Blix Donnelly and Jim Konstanty masters of the pitching craft; Willie Jones a dangerous hitting third baseman who entrances Leo Durocher and Frank Frisch, but to the Whiz Kids, the 'little child who leads them' and keeps 'em moving is:
W. Granville Hamner, the budding 'Mr. Shortstop.' "
-Frank Yeutter, Baseball Digest, July 1950
Phils' Granny Hamner Bristles-
"I'M BETTER THAN MCMILLAN!"
"No one could conscientiously call Gran Hamner egocentric, a popoff or grandiloquent, yet the mere mention of the possible existence of a better shortstop makes him irritable.
One day last summer Manager Steve O'Neill, watching infield practice, analyzed Hamner's play. It seemed Ham's hands were properly elastic, his fielding techniques flawless and his throwing arm an ecstasy.
'That boy ought to be the best shortstop in the business,' the manager of the Philadelphia Phillies allowed. 'Maybe if he ever goes through an entire season without aches and pains, he will be.'
Steve hadn't known Hamner very long, but in more than 40 years of major league baseball he had seen some superior performers at the infield's most trying position.
The other night O'Neill's assay was mentioned to Granville, who ran a deep sea fishing enterprise in Florida during the winter. Then, for no reason at all, except maybe to start an argument, this writer suggested that perhaps Roy McMillan of Cincinnati was a more adroit fielder.
There was a reason for introducing McMillan's name. Three times last year the Reds beat the Phillies only because of the sensational fielding and double play expertness of McMillan.
'So you think McMillan can out-field me?' Hamner bridled. 'Well, I don't. Remember the day a couple of years ago when Russ Meyer started a fight against the Giants and Al Dark- I think it was- said 'I wish you were champion of the world'?
'That's how I feel about McMillan. I'm not taking anything away from him, but I wish he was the greatest shortstop who ever lived.'
One of Ham's Florida friends was listening.
'Didn't you hit 16 home runs last year?'
'Seventeen,' Hamner replied sharply, 'and the last was a grand slammer.'
Then, returning to the writer, Ham queried, 'Did McMillan hit 17 home runs?'
The argument was not about all-around ability. It was a matter of McMillan's amazing 'glove work' compared to Ham's.
'Look!' continued Hamner, 'I'm waiting for 'the boss' -(President Bob Carpenter)- to send me some balls and a couple of bats. I didn't come down here just to spend the winter and make a few bucks. I'm going to be ready to play major league ball when the rest of the team gets here.
'Baseball is my business. I got off to a rotten start. I was only a kid and even wartime fans booed me until I cried. I made up my mind I was going to be the best at my position. That's shortstop.
'If you think that a fancy Dan who just got up here is going to be better than I am, you're crazy. I'll out-field McMillan. I'll outhustle Solly Hemus and I'll outhit Pee Wee Reese.
'They told me that being a big-league ball player included a lot of things. Well, ever since I put on a big-league suit I've wanted to be better than any guy I ever saw at the best thing he could do.'
Among Ham's fondest premises is that Leo Durocher has always approved his style of play and coveted Carpenter's possession of him.
'I never heard that Durocher wanted McMillan,' Hamner argued.
Then there was the day that Ham scooped a fantastic shot that Hank Sauer hit and turned it into a game-ending double play. Leaving the field in Chicago, the Cubs manager, Phil Cavarretta, said, 'I never saw anyone but Bill Jurges who could make a play like that.'
Did all these encomiums mean that Hamner was going to hold up Carpenter for a king's ransom salary when it came contract-signing time?
'I'm not going to be unreasonable and I'm not going to be a pushover,' Ham declared. 'If anyone deserves the big dough it's Robin Roberts. And Del Ennis batted in more than 100 runs. But who else did more than I did?
'I think I'm the number three guy on our team. And I'd like to be paid that way. Do you blame me?
'I didn't want to be captain just so I could take up the batting order to the umpire. I wanted to be in a position where I could help a couple of guys when the pressure was on.
'No, I didn't resent being demoted. It made me a better ball player. You look at my average from the day I was deprived of my captaincy until the end of the season. I'm not popping off about pulled muscles or charley horses or anything else. I know I fielded as well as any shortstop in the league and I'm pretty proud of those 17 home runs.
'You take McMillan and keep him.
'Take off those fancy pants and come out and hit me some grounders. I'll even let a baseball writer try to hit one past me.' "
-Frank Yeutter, condensed from the Philadelphia Bulletin (Baseball Digest, March 1953)
No comments:
Post a Comment