0 Days Until Spring Training: Here Comes The Sun

Good morning Fackers. This is Oddibe McDowell. McDowell was drafted an astounding six times, including once by the Yankees, before finally signing with the Texas Rangers in 1984. A once promising prospect and member of the loaded 1984 U.S. Olympic team, McDowell became a middling outfielder for the Rangers, Indians, and Braves. He spent parts of just seven seasons in the Majors, finishing his professional career with fourteen games for the Columbus Clippers, the Yankees' AAA affiliate, in 1995.

So why does Oddibe appear here? Because no Yankee has ever worn zero on his back. One time Yankee Cliff Johnson wore 00 during his time with the Blue Jays in the 1980s, but I can't find any pictures of it. So Oddibe, the one time Yankee draft pick and minor leaguer, who wore 0 during his time at Arizona State and with the Rangers as a numerical representation of the first letter of his first name, brings our countdown to Spring Training to the magic number of zero.

And with that, here we are. My area in Connecticut got walloped with about ten inches of snow yesterday. My commute home took twice as long as usual. My driveway was a sheet of ice this morning. And I don't care. Because as of today, it's baseball season.

At some point today, thirty five Yankee pitchers and seven Yankee catchers will report to the team's complex in Tampa. Lockers will be filled. Physicals will be taken. And tomorrow, official workouts will begin, and I will never be so enthused about pitchers' fielding practice.

Welcome back baseball. It's been a long, cold, lonely winter.

Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,
And I say it's alright,

Little darling, it's been a long, cold, lonely winter,
Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here,
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,
And I say it's all right.

Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces,
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here,
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,
And I say it's all right.

Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting,
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear,
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,
And I say it's all right.

1 Day Until Spring Training: Billy Martin

There are 741 billion different ways to arrange a 25 man roster into a 9 slot line-up. Once you select the 9 best players that number drops to 362,880. Surprisingly, at least according to countless computer simulations, the way a manager chooses to arrange those 9 players from there doesn't have that much of an impact on the amount of runs the line up produces.

There are only so many ways a manager can impact the outcome of a game. Most of the decisions a manager has to make, like removing a starting pitcher, pinch hitting, or intentionally walking a hitter are technically possible at all times. However, no reasonable observer would advocate going to the bullpen in the first inning unless there was an injury or a complete melt down by the pitcher. No one would suggest intentionally walking a batter to lead off the 7th in a tie game. Like batting order, once you narrow the moves a manager can make down to a fairly reasonable set of options, the decision amongst them isn't statistically likely to make much of a difference.

So how is it that Billy Martin is universally remembered as "a genius who could turn almost any kind of team into a winner"? How could he have been so influential when even the best decisions could only have a limited impact on the field?

Martin spent 11 seasons as a player in the major leagues, six and a half with the Yankees. A second baseman by trade, Billy put in some time at third and short, allowing Casey Stengel some of the flexibility that he so cherished. In his playing days, Martin was scrappy and gritty and all of those terms that people use to describe players that appeared to be trying hard but weren't particularly good. He could play defense but couldn't really hit for average. Or power. Or get on-base. Or steal bases once he got on. But Stengel was Martin's most fervent advocate, so the Yanks kept him around.

During his time with the Bombers, he was part of four World Series winning teams (1951, 1952, 1953 & 1956). It was more a matter of great timing than his production. He played alongside Mickey Mantle, Phil Rizzuto, Yogi Berra, Gil McDougald, Moose Skowron, and Elston Howard and behind Whitey Ford, Allie Reynolds, Vic Raschi and Eddie Lopat.

In 1953 - one of his finer seasons with the Yanks - he was the only person on the team to appear in more than 60 games and have an OPS+ of less than 100. However, over the 28 World Series games in which he appeared, he hit .333, well above his career mark of .257.

It might have been this success in the World Series that endeared him to superstar teammates Mickey Mantle and Whitey Ford. The trio were legendary for their after hours gallivanting throughout New York City and on the road. The fact that he involved Mantle and Ford in his partying was what got him traded in the middle of the 1957 season following the legendary brawl at the Copacabana.

Yankees General Manager George Weiss viewed Martin as a bad influence on the team's stars and dealt him to the Kansas City Athletics in a seven player deal shortly after the fight. After the '57 season, he was traded from KC to Detroit, then to Cleveland, Cincinnati, Milwaukee, and Minnesota, never spending more than a season with any organization as a player. He did stay with Minnesota after his hung up his cleats, however.

After Billy retired, he worked as a scout in the Twins' organization for three years, then was asked to serve as third base coach under his former manager, Sam Mele. Martin enjoyed his time as a scout and had no real aspirations to ascend the coaching ladder but agreed to come on board because he respected Mele. During that time, he mentored a left handed Rod Carew and was one of the few voices that insisted Carew was ready for the Major Leagues in 1967 when he took home Rookie of the Year honors.

It was during the 1967 that Sam Mele was fired by the Twins. The club had got off to a sluggish 25-25 start and rumors abounded that Martin would be Mele's successor. However, Billy had yet to actually manage a team and Twins' owner Calvin Griffith chose veteran skipper Cal Ermer instead. The following May, Martin took over as manager for Minnesota's AAA affiliate in Denver, an assignment he was afraid would be his "one way ticket to oblivion". In hindsight, it was just the opposite.

In his first season as manager of the Denver Bears, Martin took over a team that started 7-22 and led them to a winning season. Graig Nettles was one of the players on the Bears that year and although he didn't much care for Martin at first, he eventually came around:

When I saw the results, I stopped hating Billy Martin and began to see him for what he was: an extraordinary leader.

The two would later win a World Series together with the Yankees.

Twins ownership eventually saw Martin for what he was as well. After one more year in Denver, Martin was promoted to Major League Skipper, replacing Ermer. In his first season at the helm, he guided the team to 97 wins and a Division Championship. Griffith was no doubt impressed with the 14 win improvement from the previous year, but fired Martin in part because he beat up pitcher Dave Boswell and left him unconscious in an alleyway behind a bar called A.C. Lindell's in Detroit.

Martin had always been combative. He grew up in one the poorer areas near Berkley, California - East Bay City and was surrounded by gangs and street violence for much of his early life. His mother sent his philandering father packing before he was even born. Martin didn't lay eyes on him until he was 15, at which point Billy told him he never wanted to see him again.

Despite Martin's violent episode with the Twins, he landed another managerial gig in Detroit just a year later (where the fight with Boswell occurred, of all places). In his first season in Motown, the Tigers won 91 games, an 11 game increase from the year before, but finished second to Baltimore in the AL East. The following year they won only 86 games but edged the Red Sox by one game to win the division and went on to lose to the A's in the ALCS.

Martin was fired 134 games into the '73 season, this time for ordering his pitchers to retaliate for the spitballs Gaylord Perry was throwing on August 30th.

Despite his building reputation as a loose cannon, he landed on his feet in Texas before the season was over. In 1974, Martin presided over a 23 game advance, taking a Rangers team that had won just 57 games the year before up to 84 victories and a second place finish in the AL West. Martin was fired once again by Texas in 1975, after the team started to fade midway through the season. Within a week, he was hired by the Yankees and finished out the last 56 games of the season with them.

Amazingly, in his first full year in the Bronx, Martin again steered a team to a double digit rise in wins, from 84 to 97. The Yankees won the AL East that season and advanced to the World Series but were swept by the Reds.

During the subsequent offseason, despite the fact the team just won their first pennant in 12 years, George Steinbrenner, fresh off his suspension for illegal campaign contributions, started making moves. Chief among those was the acquisition of Reggie Jackson. Martin wasn't in favor of acquiring the Orioles' slugger. With the team in need of shortstop, Martin instead lobbied for signing the Orioles' Bobby Grich, one of the best second basemen in the game, who had experience at shortstop as well. Per usual, Steinbrenner got his way. Reggie came to the Bronx, the Yankees used their other free agent spot to sign pitcher Don Gullett, and Grich went to the Angels. Jackson made Oscar Gamble expendable, and he was flipped to the White Sox for shortstop Bucky Dent.

Martin wasn't fond of Jackson, and when Reggie's infamous "straw that stirs the drink" story published in Sport Magazine in May, it only increased divisions in an already fractured clubhouse. Tensions came to a head during the '77 season when Billy pulled Jackson from a nationally televised game at Fenway Park on June 18th for failing to hustle out a fly ball in right field in the bottom of the 6th. When Reggie got back to the dugout, tempers flared and they both had to be restrained. Despite the drama swirling around in the clubhouse (the Bronx Zoo), the Yankees won 100 games that year, topped the Royals in the ALCS, and beat the Dodgers in 6 games in the World Series. It was the only World Series victory of Martin's managing career.

The madness didn't subside in 1978. Midway through the season Jackson ignored signs from Martin and bunted when it wasn't called for. This sent Martin over the edge. He told the press later that day about Jackson and Steinbrenner, respectively, "The two of them deserve each other - one's a born liar, the other's convicted."

It would prove to be his undoing as Yankee Manager (for the time being) and he resigned a few days later. Less than a week after resigning, Martin was the final player introduced at Old Timers Day. There, it was announced that Martin would return as manager for the 1980 season, with his replacement, Bob Lemon, moving to the front office. Steinbrenner couldn't wait that long, firing Lemon less than halfway through the 1979 season, with Martin taking over for the final 95 games. The team had a winning record under his guidance, but finished 4th. That tenure ended after Martin bloodied a marshmallow salesman by the name of Joseph Cooper in a barroom fight in a Minnesota hotel.

But back to the original question. What made Billy Martin so good as a manager?

He once explained:

Out of 25 guys, there should be fifteen who would run through a wall for you, two or three who don't like you at all, five who are indifferent and maybe three undecided. My job is to keep the last two groups from going the wrong way.

He also employed daring tactics that may not have agreed with conventional wisdom, but seemed to work out for him. One of the things he taught Rod Carew was how to steal home, and as a result 7 of Carew's 20 stolen bases in 1969 were of home plate.

He also used some odd tactics, like asking pitchers to hit and play other defensive positions. He had pitcher Fergie Jenkins DH in the 6th inning in a game in 1974, breaking up a no-hitter with a single to center, and later tried the same tactic with pitcher Rick Rhoden in 1988. He had Ron Guidry in center field and Don Mattingly at second when the Pine Tar Game was resumed in 1983. He had lefty swinging Mike Pagliarulo bat right handed in 1985. He literally drew the Yankees line-up out of a hat on April 21st, 1977 against the Blue Jays, a game which they won 8-6. In Oakland from 1980-1982 he employed "Billy Ball" - a combination of hit and runs, squeeze plays and stolen bases - despite the fact that his teams lead the AL in HRs.

Could his strategies alone possibly be the only reason that every team he managed got significantly better as soom as he got there? Some of those things, like DH'ing Rhoden or Jenkins, while creative, couldn't have possibly created a positive win expectancy. But sometimes you can make a low percentage play and have it still work out. He seemed to go all-in with a straight draw and hit it on the turn more than his fair share of times.

It's probably difficult to accept for the most statistically-inclined, but the historical consensus is that Martin's true genius was in his personality. He was intense, cantankerous and blunt but also had an incredibly thorough knowledge of the game. Mike Pagliarulo said:

He was the kind of guy who wasn’t afraid to tell you what he thought of you. If I got one hit in a game and hit a couple other balls well, but they were caught, what he’d say to me was, “You dumb-ass dago, you can’t get more than one hit.” Billy was very honest.

But then added:

Billy could see the field so completely; he knew what everybody was doing.

Martin also had a penchant for riding his players, especially pitchers. He once sat down and explained his managing philosophy to Leonard Koppett:

A lot of the time, you have to make a player do something he doesn't want to do, for the good of the team, or to push him harder that he thinks he should be pushed. You can't do it if the player thinks "Why should I listen to him? He's not the boss. He may be gone next year. I'll do it my way" When that attitude takes hold, teams don't win.

Managing is teaching, first of all. That's even more important than winning itself. When you get a player whose potenital you can see, and show him things that can make him better, and show him the things that can make him win, and then you can see him later realizing those things - it's like a graduation. It makes you feel satisfied even if he's no longer your player.

For a team to win, a manager has to find ways to motivate different individuals. He has to judge correctly each man's abilities and weaknesses, and find the right ways and the right times to use them.

But the enjoyment comes from the things I put in.... The victory at the end is only proof that you succeded, and nobody can take that away from you once you've won. But the fun and the rewards are in what you do getting there.

This also lends some insight as to why Martin never lasted as manager for more than three full, consecutive seasons with any team. After managing near his hometown in Oakland from 1980-82, twice winning Manager of the Year and making the playoffs in '81, he returned to the Yankees in 1983 and won 91 games.

He was fired that offseason and re-hired in 1985 when he won 91 games again, except this time he replaced Yogi Berra after 16 games and accomplished the feat in only 145. That September, Martin got in a fight with Ed Whitson in a hotel bar. Having lost his legendary brawling skills, Billy suffered a broken arm and two fractured ribs in the fight. As they often do of drunken brawls, accounts of the night vary, but the New York Times cited an unnamed source that said an official investigation by the Yankees indicated Martin was the instigator.

The team retired his number and gave him a plaque in Monument Park in 1986. He spent the '86 and '87 doing occasional TV work on WPIX Yankee telecasts.

During his final stint with the Yankees in 1988, Billy was more unorthodox than ever. Dave Righetti was deployed for two and three innings at a time, resulting in five blown saves, four of which came in a row. He used a seven man rotation at one point, and had Rick Rhoden DH despite his ailing back. Billy started out 40-28 and had the team in the thick of the division race. But there was a three game suspension for throwing dirt at an umpire and yet another brawl, this one at a Dallas area strip club. It left Martin with bruises, forty stitches in his up ear, and for the fifth and final time, as the former manager of the New York Yankees. He was replaced by Lou Piniella.

All told, Martin only won two pennants and one World Series. His 1253 wins as a manager is good for 32nd on the all-time list, and his .553 winning percentage and 240 wins over .500 place him at 21st and 20th, respectively. But many see him as one of the greatest managers - at least over the short term - of all time. For what it's worth, if I had to pick a manager to win one game for me, it would be Martin.

In 1989, Billy was brought back to the Yankees as a special consultant. It was rumored he had been asked to manage the team in 1990 and had already assembled a coaching staff to come with him.

On Christmas day, he was riding in his longtime friend William Reedy's pick-up truck and both had been drinking but neither was wearing a seatbelt. They were approaching Billy's house in Fenton, NY, just outside of Binghamton, when the truck skidded off the icy road and down a 300 foot embankment, ending up at the foot of Martin's driveway. Reedy was left in serious condition, but Martin was not so lucky. He was taken to Wilson Memorial Hospital in Johnson City. Attempts at reviving him were unsuccessful. He was 61.

Billy Martin was notoriously hard on his players but he was probably harder on himself. He was a heavy drinker throughout almost all of his adult life. He was a fixture in hotel bars when the Yankees were on the road - as evidenced by his many fights that took place in them - and would often be seated on a barstool soon after he left Yankee Stadium as well. Martin forged a lot of friendships because of his fondness for the drink, but also made a lot of enemies that way too. In the end it was directly responsible for his demise.

"I may not have been the greatest Yankee to put on the uniform,

but I was the proudest"

3 & 4 Days Until Spring Training: Babe Ruth & Lou Gehrig

Before the Babe came to the Bronx, the New York Yankees didn't have much of a history as a franchise. After he and Lou Gehirg had finished their playing days, the Yankees had become one of the finest organizations in baseball and would go on to become the best in all of American sports.

The franchise which would eventually become the Yankees spent their first two years in Baltimore known as the Orioles before moving to Washington Heights in 1903. The New York Baseball Giants were none too thrilled with the move, which was understandable because the incoming franchise built their new home, Hilltop Park, about 10 blocks from the Polo Grounds, where the Giants played. Before the move came to fruition, it was put to a vote and the 15 of the 16 Major League owners approved, the lone dissenter being none other than John T. Bush, owner of the Giants. That lone vote wasn't enough to keep the Orioles in Baltimore, so the club packed up it's things and relocated to Hilltop Park before the 1903 season begun, becoming the Highlanders.

The franchise wasn't any more successful at Hilltop than it was at Oriole Park. In the 12 seasons split between those two locations, the pre-Yankees failed to make the World Series in an 8 team American League even once and had a won-lost record 70 games below .500. During that same stretch, the Giants appeared in the World Series 4 times, winning one. The original New York club was content to ignore their neighboring franchise until the Polo Grounds were destroyed by a fire on April 14th, 1911. At that point, the Giants were forced to lease from and cohabitate Hilltop Field with the Yankees, neutralizing previous tensions between the two teams.

In 1913, the Polo Grounds were rebuilt and both teams moved into the new structure. Given that the Yankees were no longer playing in Hilltop Park, the nickname "the Highlanders" no longer applied. They jettisioned the moniker and officially became the Yankees. Unlike the old name and park, however, they couldn't leave their futility behind. The Yanks finished in the bottom half of the AL in each of the next six seasons.

Although he has become something of a historical footnote, Wally Pipp actually passed for one of the better Yankees of that era, putting up a 114 OPS+ from 1915-1919. Ray Fisher was probably their best hurler, but even he was no better than league average during his time with the team. Roger Peckinpaugh, who was the shortstop and briefly served a stint as player-manager in 1914, was one of the few constants over that time. But he wasn't much of a hitter.

In sum, the Yankees were a dismal franchise with middling talent who played their games in a ballpark that wasn't theirs. But all that began to change when the team was purchased by Colonel Jacob Ruppert and Captain Tillinghast L'Hommedieu Huston for $1.25M in 1915.

Ruppert was a former Congressman and had just finished serving a term as the President of the United States Brewers Association. He was a businessman at heart and brought his willingness to wheel and deal to his manage to the Yankees, not to mention the substantial fortune he and his father had accrued in the brewing business. Both of those were essential in bringing the Yankees their first legitimate star.

When Babe Ruth came up with Boston, he was primarily a pitcher, and quite a good one at that. In 1916 and 1917 Ruth threw 323 2/3 and 326 1/3 innings to 1.75 and 2.01 ERAs, respectively. In his limited plate appearances, however, his hitting prowess was already evident, posting numbers well above league average in each of those years.

In 1918, the Red Sox began to transition Ruth into a hitter. That year he appeared in 75 games exclusively to hit and led the league in home runs with 11, despite relatively few opportunities. The following year he pitched in only 17 games, throwing 133 1/3 innings, the last time he would throw over 9 in a season. The Babe's ERA was just about league average in 1919, but he coupled that with pounding a then unheard of 29 home runs and driving in 114.

In the proceeding offseason, Ruth demanded a 200% raise, and rather than retain the slugger or trade him to the White Sox for Shoeless Joe Jackson and $60,000 cash, Harry Frazee famously sold him to Ruppert and the Yankees for $125,000.

It's easy to view this transaction in revisionist history and wonder what would have become of the Red Sox if they had held onto Ruth. The fact of the matter is at the time, he was still transitioning into a hitter and there was widespread doubt from respected people like Tris Speaker, who thought becoming a hitter would shorten Ruth's career.

To the Sox dismay, Ruth arrived in the Bronx and promptly launched 54 home runs, many over the short right field fence at the Polo Grounds, obliterating his own record of 29. He also worked 150 walks and sported a .533 on-base percentage. In fact, Ruth reached base in over half of his plate appearances in 5 of his first 7 seasons as a Yankee.

As the Bambino was taking the baseball world by storm, Ludwig Heinrich Gehrig was studying at and playing fullback for nearby Columbia University. He was born (at 14lbs!) on 94th and 2nd Ave and grew up first in Yorkville and later in Washington Heights. Gehrig, like Ruth, spent time as a pitcher early in his career. While on the mound for Columbia, Gehrig struck out a record 17 Williams College batters, but was noticed by Yankee scout Paul Krichell more for his left-handed power. He was signed by the Yankees two months later for a $1,500 bonus.

In 1923 & '24, the Iron Horse was used mostly in pinch hitting duty. He raked well above average in his 38 at-bats over the course of those two years and earned himself a more permanent place in the line up in 1926.

The '26 season was the 7th of Ruth's torrid stretch mentioned above. As would have been the case with anyone coming up through the ranks of the Yanks at the time, Gehrig stood squarely in the Babe's vast shadow:

"I'm not a headline guy. I know that as long as I was following Ruth to the plate I could have stood on my head and no one would have known the difference."

The two lefty sluggers had always been quite different. Gehrig was college educated and smoked a pipe while Ruth was street-wise and puffed on stogies. Ruth was an ostentatious extrovert, Gehrig was a bit of an understated loner.

At first, Gehrig was "admittedly in awe" of Ruth. However, the initial reverence wore off as Ruth mentored Gehrig and taught him many of the tricks to lofting the massive home runs that separated the Bambino from the rest of the league by leaps and bounds. Babe actually took a liking to Gehrig and considered him "like a younger brother who was bashful and backwards".

Despite the humility, Gehrig was a hell of a hitter himself. After replacing Wally Pipp on June 2nd 1925, he batted over .300 with a .400+ on-base percentage for twelve consecutive years. He hit 40 or more home runs 5 times and drove in at least 100 runs in 13 straight seasons, including an AL Record 184 in 1931 (due in no small part to Babe Ruth's .495 OBP that year). He won the 1927 League Award (before the MVP came to be) over Ruth who hit 60 HRs and slugged .772. Lou finished his career with a .340 batting average.

Gehrig was invited to go barnstorming with Ruth in the offseason and the veteran also took him fishing on occasion. Appreciative of this, Gehrig invited Ruth to his mother's house in New Rochelle, who was more than happy to cook him huge dinners, something that the Sultan of Swat never enjoyed in the orphanage he grew up in.

Unfortunately, Lou's mother caused their friendship to come to an abrupt halt. Ruth had made one of his visits to New Rochelle and brought both of his daughters, Dorothy, a 12 year old tomboy, and Julia, an 18 year old proper young lady. Gehrig's mother made an off-hand remark about Dorothy being poorly dressed as opposed to Julia, causing Ruth to implore Lou that his mother "mind her own business". Neither man would budge and they refused to speak to each other, forming a rift between the two.

When the cameras rolled, they pretended to be chummy, but the mutual distaste was palpable to those with knowledge of the situation. It wasn't until Ruth left the team in 1935 that Gehrig was named Captain, but the unofficial crown was passed after the two went blast for blast and tied with 46 HRs in the 1931 season. Gehrig's career was still trending upwards, while the Babe's was on the decline.

At the age of 40, Ruth was sold to the Boston Braves where he played only 28 games. He batted .181, but had a .359 OBP and hit 6 HRs.

About halfway though the 1938 season, Gehrig began to feel weak and his performance declined. His statistics were respectable over the course of the season, (29HR, 132 OPS+) but well off his career norms. When he showed up for Spring Training the following year, he was visibly diminished and actually collapsed on the Al Lang Field while running the bases. He made an attempt to play out the season, but it was soon clear he wasn't physically up to the task and his 2,130 consecutive games played streak ended on April 30th. On his birthday, June 19th that year, he was diagnosed with ALS.

On July 4th, 1939, the Yankees held Lou Gehrig Appreciation Day. It wasn't until then that he and Babe Ruth finally ended their grudge against each other. He delivered his famous speech and became the first player in MLB history to have their number retired.

Gehirg's retirement marked the end of an era which saw the Yankees rise from the doldrums of the league and become one of it's preeminent powers. The Yankees won 8 World Series titles, losing just once in the fall Classic. They failed to finished in the top 2 of the AL just twice in 19 years.

Although there was a great supporting cast of players like Tony Lazzeri, Billy Dickey and Earle Combs, the Yankees engine was powered primarily by Ruth and Gehrig. Comfortably two of the top five players in the league for eight consecutive seasons, the Iron Horse and the Bambino were the cornerstones of the Yankee franchise. They had an interesting relationship, ranging from cordial to cold and back again, and both unfortunately found their way to an early grave. Gehrig passed away in his sleep at the age of 37 on June 2nd, 1941. Ruth lived until August 16th, 1948 when he succumbed to pneumonia. He was 53.

7 Days Until Spring Training: Mickey Mantle

There's a reason Rodney Dangerfield changed his name from Jackie Roy, Kirk Douglas wasn't satisfied with Issur Danielovich, John Wayne didn't go by Marrion Marrison, and Cary Grant's real name wasn't Cary Grant; it was Archie Leach. Studies have shown that students are excellent at predicting which college professors they will enjoy having before they even hear them speak. But that probably says more about how much first impressions shape our interactions with other people than our powers to judge them based solely on their looks.

Of course, baseball is far more of a meritocracy than Hollywood and its players aren't judged based on the first time they play in front of someone, but there is a certain subjectivity involved in selecting those who are fit for higher levels of the game. There's even more bias involved in determining who becomes a superstar. A prospect must be noticed, scouted, signed and promoted through the ranks. To become a star, a player must be talked about and popularized through the media and by fans. Having a catchy name certainly doesn't hurt in either of those pursuits.

All of this is a long way of saying that Tom Greenwade, the scout who first saw him in Baxter Springs, Kansas in 1948, was probably more intrigued by the name "Mickey Mantle" more than his teammate Billy Johnson, the first time he saw the two listen in a game program.

Greenwade said he was the best Yankee prospect he could remember. Mantle was offered $400 for the rest of the season and a $1,100 signing bonus. Eventually, Joe DiMaggio agreed with Greenwade's assessment and Casey Stengel added, "He's got more natural power from both sides than anybody I ever saw".

Of course, they were right; Mantle's talent was undeniable. He tore through the minor leagues and made his Yankee debut on April 17th, 1951 as a lanky 19 year old, with just 20 games experience above C-ball. After a brief slump punctuated by a four strikeout effort against the Red Sox, Mantle was sent back down to Kansas City. He stayed in AAA for 5 weeks and hit .361 in 40 games before getting called back up to the Bigs.

Mantle spent the rest of the season with the team and was included on the roster when they faced the New York Giants in the Fall Classic. He and Willie Mays actually made their World Series debuts in the same game. Mays went 0-5 and Mantle 0-3. It would be 11 years before those two met in another World Series game and the Yankees would prevail in the 1962 Fall Classic as well.

In his first full season with the Yankees in 1952, Mantle replaced Joe DiMaggio in center field, hit .331/.394/.530, made the All-Star Team and finished 3rd in the AL MVP voting. It was his first of 14 straight All-Star berths and the first of 6 times he'd finish in the top 5 of the MVP voting without winning. He did, however, win three MVPs. They came in 1956, in 1957 when he hit .365/.512/.665 and barely edged Ted Williams in the voting, and in 1962 when he took home the only Gold Glove of his career (the first year they were awarded was '57).

The Mick was also a part of 7 World Series winners during his playing days. The Yanks were still obviously lucky to have him, but his postseason batting line of .257/.374/.535 was not nearly as good as his regular season line of .298/.421/.557.

Mantle had unprecedented power as a center fielder. He was legendary for not only the number, but the length of his home runs, as the term "tape measure home run" was coined for his one of his prodigious blasts.

That shot, perhaps his most famous, came at Griffiths Stadium in Washington D.C. on April 17th, 1953. It was said to have traveled 565 feet, a claim originally made Yankees PR man Arthur "Red" Patterson. There was a breeze blowing out to left field that day and Mantle crushed a pitch off of a middle reliever named Chuck Stobbs off the Natty Boh beer sign and out of the Stadium. Patterson set out to retrieve the ball.

He claimed to have found a ten year old boy at 434 Oakdale Lane by the name of Donald Dunaway in posession of the ball. He offered young Donny $1 and two signed balls in exchange for Mantle's souvenir and claimed to have take a tape measure from the stadium to the ball's landing spot. Peterson admitted later in life that his claim of measuring the home run was less than accurate but insisted the part about Donald Dunaway was true. However, numerous baseball historians have set out to find someone with that combination of age, name and address but come up empty. Still, the term "tape measure home run" was born.

The famous graphic to the right triangulates another legendary home run, with slightly more concrete mathematical calculations. Mantle drilled one off the facade of Yankee Stadium which was still 118 ft high 370 feet from home plate.

For all his swiftness and brawn, Mantle struggled mightily with injuries but usually played through them. He had both acute and chronic ailments in the bones and cartilage in both of his legs. In his World Series debut mentioned above, he and DiMaggio both sprinted towards a fly ball, but Joe called him off, causing Mickey to stop short. Mantle tore the cartilage in his right knee as his cleat got caught on a drainage cover hidden in the outfield grass. To mitigate the damage he might cause after that, he applied thick tape wraps around each knee before games.

In addition to injury, Mickey battled alcoholism. His father died when Mantle was 20 years old and he was nagged by the dread of his own mortality. As a result, he lived hard. He gave incredible effort on the field, but also partied recklessly away from the Stadium. Mick, Whitey Ford and Billy Martin frequented Toots Shor's and the Copacabana.

One infamous night at the Copa, a bunch of the Yankees were there with their wives and an especially unruly group of people fresh off of a bowling league victory came in and sat down. Sammy Davis Jr. was performing that night and the bowlers started heckling him. A few of the Yankees took umbrage to that and asked them to quiet down. Words were exchanged and led by Billy Martin and Hank Bauer the group of Yanks were soon involved in a full scale brawl out near the coat room.

While they walked away unscathed, Billy Martin was traded as a direct result of that incident for being a bad influence on Mantle as well as Whitey Ford and Yogi Berra - players who normally stayed out of trouble and meant far more to the team on the field than Martin. They had to go in from of a grand jury, but none of the Yanks were ever brought up on charges.

Eventually, all the partying and all the injuries caught up with Mantle. He was only 36 years old but could barely run when the 1968 season came to a close. His power had finally started to leave him and in his final two years his failing legs kept him exclusively at first base. His career batting average dipped below .300 in his final season and the Yankees finished 5th in the American League.

Years later his wife Merlyn recalled: "When Mick retired, a big chunk of his self-esteem went out the window. I question whether he ever had much to begin with".

Baseball followed, even haunted Mantle after he hung up his cleats:

For years after he stopped playing, Mickey Mantle said, he would dream he was in a taxi, in uniform, late. ''I could hear them saying, 'Now batting, No. 7, Mickey Mantle,' and I'd try to crawl through a hole into Yankee Stadium and I'd always get stuck. Looking through the hole, I could see Casey Stengel and Whitey Ford and all them out there and I couldn't get in. And I'd wake up and I'd be sweating like hell. I had that dream a long time.''

Alcoholism followed Mickey long after his playing career too, right up until he died at age 63 in 1995. He had checked into the Betty Ford Center in 1994, but by then, the damage had been done. Upon his examination, a doctor from the BFC told his that his liver was so damaged that "his next drink could be his last". Before he died, Mantle acknowledged his alcoholism and was able to reflect on the harm it had caused him and more importantly those around him.

While he was the hero of an entire generation of Yankees fans, Mantle certainly wasn't without his flaws. A character plucked from the cornfields and brought to the big city, the story of Mickey Mantle was something Hollywood might have dreamed up had it not actually happened. His self-perpetuating fight with his inner demons that led to his own demise seemed plucked from a Greek tragedy. Mantle may have appeared to be more of a legend than a man during his playing days. However, as the years wore on, his humanity and mortality became increasingly obvious.

Mantle's tale is both inspirational and cautionary. He got a lot out of his 63 years on this earth, but it' clear that if he had taken better care of himself, he would have got a whole lot more. Even still, he was one of the greatest Yankees of all time.

9 Days Until Spring Training: Roger Maris

In a perfect world, Mantle would have been the one to break Babe Ruth's single season home run record. Instead it was an aloof North Dakota native named Roger Maris who didn't come up with the Yankees, wasn't comfortable in New York, didn't get along with the media, and was never fully embraced by the fans.

Maris was signed by the Indians in 1953 for $5,000 and chose the path of professional baseball over a standing offer for a scholarship to Oklahoma State. In his first full season as a minor leaguer, Maris was assigned to the B-level Keokuk Kernels of the Illinois-Indiana-Iowa league. It was there that manager Jo Jo White taught him how to pull the ball and transformed from a solid hitter for average to a bona fide home run threat. That year, Maris hit 32 round trippers in 134 games and made his first significant strides towards becoming a Big Leaguer.

He made his debut on Opening Day 1957 for the Indians and hit the ground running with a 3 for 5 effort against the White Sox. The following day, he hit his first Major League home run, a go-ahead grand slam in the top of the 11th inning.

Maris was the starting center fielder for Indians in '57 but played all three OF positions, appearing in 116 games in total. He left his high batting averages in the minor leagues, hitting only .235 but his 14 home runs helped him to be a better than league average hitter (105 OPS+).

During the 1958 season, Maris was dealt to the A's for, among others, the immortal Woodie Held. Maris doubled his home run output from the previous year to 28 but hit only 19 doubles, saw his on base percentage dip below .300 and his OPS+ drop to 97. In 1959 he was transitioned to right field and began to put it all together at the plate, hitting .273/.359/.464 (123 OPS+) and was rewarded with a selection to the All-Star team.

The Yankees were tantalized by Maris' left handed power and were looking to give their team a boost after a third place finish in '59. They sent World Series hero Don Larsen, their two starting corner outfielders from the previous season, Hank Bauer and Norm Siebern along with 25 year old first baseman Marv Thornberry to Kansas City in exchange for Maris, Joe DeMaestri and Ken Hadley.

As he did in his first game in Cleveland, Maris made a great first impression as a Yankee, smacking two homers and a double in his debut against the Red Sox. He went on to win the AL MVP that season, nudging out Mickey Mantle by a scant 3 points in the voting. They had similar years at the plate but Maris, batting behind Mantle, drove in 18 more runs in 66 fewer plate appearances.

While the writers were willing to recognize Maris' accomplishments, many fans refused to embrace him as a True Yankee®. The Bombers were still very much Mickey Mantle's team and Maris' icy relationship with the New York media only served to further extend that perception.

While some still hold Maris' single season record up as the all-time mark, 1961 was far from a normal year in baseball and comes with it's own share of caveats.

Before 'the 61 season began, the AL expanded from eight to ten teams, adding the Los Angeles Angels and the Washington Senators by way of an expansion draft. Both teams selected Yankees with their first picks; the Angels took Eli Grba and the Senators claimed Bobby Shantz. The Yanks also lost Duke Maas, Dale Long, Bob Cerv, Ken Hunt, Bud Zipfel. The expansion draft weakened the overall talent pool in the league fairly significantly, but despite the pillaging, the Yankees were among the teams least affected.

That same season, the schedule was lengthened from 154 to 162 games. Commissioner Ford C. Frick, initially announced that in order to break Babe Ruth's record, it would have to be done in 154 games. He said:

Any player who hit more than sixty home runs during his club’s first 154 games would be recognized as having established a new record. However, if the player does not hit more than sixty until after his club has played 154 games, there would have to be some distinctive mark in the record books to show that Babe Ruth’s record was set under a 154 game schedule and the total of more than sixty was compiled while a 162 game schedule was in effect.

This was met with strong media backlash. The Sporting News placed it at #15 of the "most shameful acts in baseball history" and columnist Leonard Koppett called the decision "a remarkably foolish thing".

The prevailing wisdom at the time said the decision was prompted by Frick's loyalty to Ruth which could be traced back to Frick's days as a newspaper man. Frick had ghostwritten for Ruth in the past, allowing Ruth to "cover" every world series from 1921-1936 and wrote glowing columns about Ruth during his time with the New York Evening Journal.

Regardless of his perceived bias, Frick was making a logical choice. The tag of single season is rather arbitrary and it was clearly easier to reach 60 home runs given 8 extra games to say nothing of the substantially thinner pitching that resulted from expansion. Frick was stuck with two difficult choices: keep two separate rule books for each season length or give all players who came after 1961 an unfair advantage in breaking counting stat records. It was popular at the time, but his choice of the latter allowed one of the most hallowed records in sports to fall under dubious circumstances.

Maris' pursuit of the record wasn't especially popular with some living legends of the game either. Legendary second baseman Rogers Hornsby said at the time, "It would be a disappointment if Ruth's home run record were bested by a .270 hitter."

Partially because of the controversy surrounding his quest for 61, Maris was heckled and even had objects thrown at him on the field. He received hate mail, death threats and claimed his hair fell out "in clumps" as the season progressed. He had 59 HR after 154 games and hit his 61st on the last day of the season in the home half of the fourth inning against the Red Sox.

Maris spent five more seasons with the Yankees but his peak had decidedly past. While he was an above average hitter each of those five years, Maris never hit more than 33 home runs in a season and missed large chunks of 1963 and 1965 with injuries. He was ultimately traded after the 1966 season to the Cardinals in exchange for Charley Smith.

Despite breaking one of the most hallowed sports records of all time, Maris remained sour about the experience. During an interview at the 1980 All-Star game, he said:

They acted as though I was doing something wrong, poisoning the record books or something. Do you know what I have to show for 61 home runs? Nothing. Exactly nothing.

He passed away 5 years later from Hodgkin's Lymphoma at the age of 51.

Maris was a victim of our casting. Despite the fact that sports are unscripted, we still expect the right characters to come out on top. Mickey Mantle was the former farmhand, Yankee legend, the Hall of Famer, the rags to riches story from Oklahoma. He partied with the rat pack, Joe D. and Marylin Monroe, and had the key to the city. He was supposed to be the one to break Babe Ruth's record. Maris was the ostracized Kansas City transplant, who should have came up short. But that's not the way life works and while Maris' peak was far too short to earn him a spot in Cooperstown, he has a place in Monument Park.

11 Days Until Spring Training: Buck Showalter

When Buck Showalter was growing up in the 1960's in small town called Century on the panhandle of Florida, Little League games drew a crowd. The town had a beautiful, well-lit baseball field, so on countless summer nights hundreds of townspeople would gather to watch the kids play. Considering Buck's childhood home bordered on the field, perhaps it isn't much of a surprise that he took a liking to the game at a very young age. It also helped that, in addition to being the principal of the local high school, his father was also coach of its baseball team.

Buck took his smooth and level left handed swing to college at Mississippi State and was named an All-American in 1977. He batted .459 that year, splitting his time on defense between first base and the outfield. Despite having little to no power, he was drafted by the Yankees in the 5th round that year and assigned to A-ball in Fort Lauderdale.

As his college pedigree predicted, Showalter had the ability to hit for average and that skill carried him steadily through the Yankees' minor league ranks. Buck slapped his way to a .324 average at AA Nashville and led the Southern League in hits during the 1980 season which earned him a call up to AAA in 1981.

Unfortunately, Buck hit the wall in Columbus. He spent all of '82 back in Nashville, led the Southern League in hits for the second time and earned himself one final shot at AAA in 1983 where he struggled against superior pitching once again. Even if he had figured out International League pitching, Showalter's path to the Bronx would have been blocked by Don Mattingly.

He was briefly converted to a pitcher himself in an effort to salvage his playing career but it seemed as though Buck's life in baseball wasn't meant to take place on the field.

Having always displayed a natural baseball acumen, Showalter moving right into coaching after his playing career was over. He started off with the Yankees' New York Penn League team in Oneonta in 1985 and led the squad to a 106-41 record in his two years at the helm. That earned him a promotion to Fort Lauderdale where he presided over two consecutive winning squads.

His continuted success earned him a promotion to the Albany Colonie Yankees (AA) in 1989. It was that season in Albany that really jump-started his managerial career. His team went 97-46, he won Baseball America's Minor League Manager of the Year and was given the position of third base coach for the Yanks in 1990. Showalter replaced Stump Merrill as manager of the Big League club in 1992.

After going 76-86 in '92, Showalter guided the Yankees to a second place finish in 1993 with 88 wins. When the strike stopped the 1994 season, their winning percentage was even better (.619) and they were on pace to win over 100 games. Showalter was named AL Manager of the Year but they would have to wait a bit longer to break the Yanks' long playoff drought.

In the strike-shorted 1995 season, Showalter led the Yankees to their first postseason in 13 years. Although they lost to the Mariners in 5 games, it was clear that the organization was healthier that it had ever been. They had plenty of young talent on the team with much more waiting in the wings in the minors. However, this wasn't enough for George Steinbrenner. The Boss demanded that he fire two of his coaches after losing to the Mariners, but Showalter refused. Instead, he got the axe himself.

It didn't take long for Buck to land on his feet. He was quickly snatched up by the expansion Arizona Diamondbacks two years before they were scheduled to play a game. He was active in the construction of their roster and eventually served as their first manager. He led them to a 100 win season in 1999 and left after an 85 win campaign in 2000, just before the D-Backs unseated the Yanks in the 2001 World Series.

His last managerial tenure came in Texas from 2003-2006. He was 10 games under .500 during that stretch and was eventually replaced by Ron Washington. Since then, he has served as a senior advisor for the Indians and an analyst for ESPN.

Much of Showalter's success was attributable to a strong work ethic which, along with he stern demeanor, he was said to have inherited from his father. He worked so much that according to legend, he found himself inside a grocery store for the first time in 5 years during the 1994 strike.

Due to some unfortunate timing, Showalter never really got the credit he deserved for the role he played in turning the Yankees around. Had Steinbrenner not demanded that he unload two coaches after leading the team to the playoffs for the first time in over a decade, Buck could very easily have been at the helm of the late 90's dynasty. He ducked out of Arizona just a bit too early as well.

Showalter has begun to make appearances at Old Timer's Day and was included in the video montage during the last game at the Old Yankee Stadium. Perhaps Buck will never receive the adulation that many contributors to the Yankees dynasty do, but fans who watched the team closely during the early 90's or understand the club's history know how much he meant to the franchise.

15 Days Until Spring Training: Thurman Munson

Aside from the natural ability to hit and play the position, Thurman Munson had plenty of characteristics that perfectly suited him to be the Yankees' catcher. He was pugnacious, rugged and passionate, willing to sacrifice his body on any given play. He was simultaneously proud and humble, holding the game of baseball in the highest regard. Furthermore, he had a mean-ass mustache and hated the Red Sox. Boy, did he hate the Red Sox. I'd like to think that if he was alive today, old Squatty Body would have rather liked the name of this blog.

The above sequence is from a game at Fenway, on August 1st, 1973. Stick Michael was up to bat in the top of the 9th with the score tied, and failed to make contact on a suicide squeeze, unleashing Munson down the third baseline towards Sox catcher Carlton Fisk. Munson led with a left forearm and Pudge went low, sending the two tumbling over home plate. Fisk held onto the ball, Munson was out, and they quickly got to their feet and began exchanging blows.

Munson and Pudge had a contentious rivalry which extended beyond your typical rival hatred. Although some elements of the feud may have been exaggerated in Munson's biography written by Christopher Devine, there was a legitimate dislike between the two that was exacerbated by the teams they played for.

Perhaps the seeds of Munson's hatred of Boston were planted, like mine, in the time he spent there as a young man. In the summer of 1967, Joe "Skippy" Lewis, manager of the Chatham A's of the Cape Cod Baseball League offered Munson a spot as their starting catcher, along with a side job with the Chatham Parks Department for $75 a week. In 39 games that summer, Munson hit .420 as a catcher, .65 higher than any other other player in the league and was named MVP of the league. Now, the winner of the CCBL batting title receives the Thurman Munson Award.

It was during his time on the Cape that he was discovered by the Yankees. They selected him with the fourth overall pick in the 1968 Amateur Draft, gave him a $75,000 signing bonus and a $500 per week salary.

Munson made his debut in 1969 but appeared in only 26 games. In 1970, he won Rookie of the Year, netting 96% of the vote after batting .302/.386/.415. While remaining solid behind the plate, Munson had two years in 1971 & '72 where he was above league average, but unspectacular offensively.

Although it was not recognized as such by the MVP voting, 1973 was Munson's finest year as a hitter. He raked 29 doubles, 20 homers and hit .301/.362/.487, good for a 141 OPS+. That season was also the beginning of Thurm's three year Gold Glove and six year All-Star appearance streaks. In each of those six years, Munson placed in the MVP voting and played 144 games or more behind the plate.

He was named Yankee captain in 1975, claiming a post that Lou Gehrig vacated with his farewell speech in 1939. In 1976, Munson clocked 17 homers, 27 doubles, drove in 105 runs and was rewarded with the AL MVP, receiving 18 out of a possible 24 first place votes. A testament to his hard-headed, competitive nature, that year he stole 14 bases but was caught 11 times. In fact, over his career, he was actually caught more than he was successful, stealing only 48 bases in 98 tries.

Munson was behind the plate for Ron Guidry's legendary 1978 season, where he went 25-3 with a 1.74ERA. Guidry later said about Munson, "I went through the whole year never shaking him off one time. He always knew when to say something, and when to shut up."

Munson had three children who lived with his wife in Canton, Ohio, where he grew up. He often grew homesick and decided to take flying lessons to make it easier to commute back and forth to see his family. On August 2nd, 1979, he was practicing take-offs and landings at Akron-Canton Regional Airport when he met his untimely end.

On the approach to the runway, Munson dropped the flaps on the wings of his Cessna Citation I/SP, but waited too long before giving the plane more power. As a result, the aircraft came up well short of the intended target. Munson had failed to fasten his shoulder strap, was paralyzed during the initial impact and trapped inside the cockpit when the plane finally came to a rest after rolling and sliding for over 500 feet. His flight instructor, David Hall and his friend Kenny Anderson attempted to free Munson, but the plane caught on fire and they were forced to retreat. His last words were "Get me out of here! Please get me out!" A tragic and powerless cry for help that in no way reflected the way he lived. He was 32 years old.

Munson's funeral was held four days later on August 6th in Canton, Ohio. Lou Pinella and other Yankees spoke while Bobby Murcer delivered the eulogy that morning. That same day, the team took the field back in the Bronx to face the Orioles. Ron Guidry started but through the top of the 7th, the Yanks were down 4-0. Then with two outs in the bottom half of the frame, Bucky Dent worked a walk. Willie Randolph followed with a double, bringing up Murcer. Facing Dennis Martinez, Murcer blasted a three run shot, bringing the Yanks within one.

Guidry remained in the game, holding the O's at 4 through the tops of the 8th and 9th. Just as it was in the 7th, Bucky Dent reached base on a walk in the 9th, putting the tying run on base. Next up, Willie Randolph laid down a bunt in an attempt to move Dent over but Tippy Martinez made a throwing error that allowed the runners to advance to second and third. This brought up Murcer once again and he poked a single to left which drove in the tying and winning runs. Guidry got a complete game win and Murcer drove in all five runs for the Yankees.

Despite it's brevity, Thurm's career was one of constant success. In each of his nine full seasons as a player, he captured either the Rookie of the Year, Gold Glove, MVP, or a World Series Championship.

When someone dies young, they are enshrined in our minds in their youth. There is a different legacy left than when we watch a person decline with age, grow frail and forget people's names. We see the sad portrayal of modern day Muhammad Ali, but only remember the dynamic vibrance of a prime Jimi Hendrix.

Munson's number was retired immediately after his death and an empty locker with the number 15 was kept in the Yankees Clubhouse through the closing of the Old Stadium. Written by George Steinbrenner, his plaque in Monument Park reads:

Our captain and leader has not left us, today, tomorrow, this year, next ... Our endeavors will reflect our love and admiration for him.

The 30th annual Thurman Munson Awards dinner will be held tonight at the Grand Hyatt in Manhattan and will honor Joba Chamberlain, Darryl Strawberry and Lou Pinella, among others. The foundation has raised over $10M for children and adults with intellectual and developmental disabilities since its inception.