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Do
You Remember A series of articles by Jay Brady. The Boys Of Summer They were known as "The Boys Of Summer." A few old timers still refer to baseball players the same way today, but are they really? Teams today don't have the names, players don't have the nicknames, stadiums don't hold the mystique and fans can no longer afford to root, root root for the home team as was done years ago. What we thought was a marvelous innovation called television, started the decline of America's Pastime. We only visualized the advantage of seeing games every day, without leaving our living room. Even the most far sighted couldn't foresee how salaries would escalate, greed would overshadow logic and expansion would stretch the core of available talent beyond reasonable limits. Adding insult to injury was moving franchises, we had followed since childhood, to places foreign to the major leagues. Like watching a child grow and leave home, we watched the Dodgers abandon historic Ebbet's Field in Brooklyn, and head to sunny California. Soon the New York Giants packed up and headed west leaving the Polo Grounds to await the wrecking ball of a demolition crew. Over the next couple of decades, we saw the demise of Sportsman Park in St. Louis, Shibe Park in Philly, Crosley Field in Cincinnati, Forbes Field in Pittsburgh, and, Holy Cow, lights were added to Wrigley Field in Chicago. Hallowed ball parks like Yankee Stadium were renovated, and domes were put atop diamonds in Houston, Seattle and Minneapolis, changing the game forever. In recent years, when large corporations bought the right to have their names attached to new stadiums, "The Boys Of Summer" became nothing more than the rich sons of corporate America. Somehow, Three-Com-Park doesn't generate the magic once associated with Ebbet's Field or the Polo Grounds. We now have to wait until the next morning to learn the scores of games played on the West Coast, and in most cases, we really don't care anymore. How I miss rooting against "Dem Bums" in Dodger blue, the "Bronx Bombers," and just hoping that someday my beloved Chicago Cubs could find their way to the World Series. Seldom do we hear of "Murderer's Row," "The Big Red Machine" and "The Whiz Kids." Wasn't it fun to cheer for Nebraska born, Richie Ashburn, during the Phillies great 1950 season? That team also featured Robin Roberts and Willie "Puddin' Head" Jones. Baseball's memorable moments don't seem to have the impact of Don Larson's perfect game in the 1956 World Series, or Bill Mazerowski's dramatic 1960 home run to propel the Pirates over the heavily favored Yankees. The Giant's, Bobby Thomsen's, pennant winning homer against the Dodgers in 1951, and Roger Maris's 61st homer in 1961 would be second page news today behind the sordid stories of sex scandals by athletes and politicians. No longer do we have "The Gas House Gang" nor the wonderful nicknames so proudly worn by "The Boys Of Summer." "The Babe," "Joltin' Joe," "The Iron Horse," Stan "The Man" Musial or "Scooter" Rizzuto. "Yogi," "The Mick," Ted "The Splinter" Williams, Eddie "The Brat" Stanky, "Whitey" Ford, "Dutch" Leonard and Enos "Country" Slaughter are only memories to we oldsters, and completely unknown to the jewelry glad showman today. And if trivia is your game, can you name the Big Four of the 1948 Cleveland Indian's pitching staff. The answer will be at the end of this column. "Say Hey" Willie Mays and "Hammering Hank" Aaron are about the last of the monickered idols we fondly recall when the umpire yells "Play Ball." "Duke" Snyder and "Pee Wee" Reese, "Dizzy" and "Daffy" Dean, Harry "The Hat," and Harry "The Cat" Breechens join Walter "Big Train" Johnson as forgotten names somewhere in a dust covered record book. Managers, who were as much a part of the legend, also are the victims of time and change. Who today can spark the imagination of a "Sparky" Anderson, berate an umpire like Leo "The Lip" Durocher, or handle a team like "Casey" Stengel? No longer does anyone demand the respect of a Connie Mack, Judge "Mountain" Landis, "Branch" Rickey or John Magraw. Only history books bring back "Spahn, Burdette and Sain, then pray for a day of rain." Those former Boston Braves, then later of Milwaukee, also featured Bob Buhl, but the saying caught on, and stayed throughout their careers. Relief pitchers were only used when a starter had a really bad day. When the true "Boys Of Summer" took the mound, they fully intended on pitching a complete game. Jim Konstanty, "Tug" Magraw and Hoyt Wilhelm changed that complexion of the game, and the durability once associated with a big league pitcher, who prided himself on going the distance, became another chapter from the days gone by. Somehow, I can't picture "Sandy" Koufax, Don Drysdale, Don Newcombe, Christy Mathison or Nebraska born Grover Cleveland Alexander handing the ball over to a reliever after five or six innings. It would have been an insult to pinch-hit for Ewell "The Whip" Blackwell, Billy Pierce, Bob Gibson or Hal Newhauser just because they were scheduled up to bat. And, how the real "Boys Of Summer" would have scoffed at the designated hitter. They would have also scorned sun glasses and hitting gloves. They didn't go on strike over wages or pension plans because their manhood was at stake. Turning hardened, professional athletes in "softies" would have created an outcry beyond belief. You didn't substitute for these fellows unless they were critically ill or injured. They played through pain, know they could recuperate during the off season. Maury Wills didn't steal 104 bases sitting out every third or fourth game. How could we have known, when the television cameras and lights were turned on, when the diamonds went to artificial grass, and East Coast teams moved west, that baseball, as we knew it, would forever be changed? Whether we loved or hated a team, we never dreamed that loyalty would be forsaken, and players would change teams with every new season. Little did we know a family of four would no longer be able to afford to see a game in person, hustle would be replaced with goofy antics, and an ingrown toenail would result in 15 days on the disable list. It seems to me that today's millionaire pitchers must be born with sore arms in order to qualify for major league status. Youngsters today have a different outlook and set of values, and though I rebel against the aging process, I'm so grateful my memories include baseball, when it featured "The Boys Of Summer." Those of us who witnessed Jackie Robinson breaking the color line in 1947 and becoming a Hall Of Famer. The pain and suffering he endured opened the door for other fabulous players like Roy Campenella, Luke Easter and Larry Doby. What a shame it was that Satchel Paige and "Josh" Gibson were denied that opportunity when in their prime. It was the time when baseball, the flag, apple pie and Motherhood signified what America was all about. "Do You Remember?" The 1948 Cleveland Indians big four pitching staff consisted of Bob Feller, Early Wynn, Bob Lemon and Al Garcia. Return to articles. The book "Do
You Remember" which is a compilation of these articles sells
for $19.95 and each copy is signed by the author. The book is available
in about 50 independent book stores in Nebraska. You can also order
a copy
online for an additional $3 S &H.
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