EXCERPTS FROM THE LEGEND OF THE MICK (PART V) The Hazing of Rizzuto

 

            Among the most popular figures in Yankee history, Phil Rizzuto was the starting shortstop on seven World Series-winning squads, including the teams that won five in a row from 1949 through 1953. Nicknamed “Scooter” for the way he ran the bases, his skills went into decline in the mid-1950s. He called it quits as a player in 1956 then spent 40 years as a radio and TV broadcaster. He became famous for his trademark expression, “Holy cow!” Rizzuto—who stood just 5-foot-6—was a hypochondriac with a number of phobias, including a fear of lightning, snakes, spiders and assorted insects. This made him a prime target for practical jokes. Good-natured almost to a fault, he never held any grudges and rarely if ever lost his temper.

             Though many players in Rizzuto’s day left their gloves on the field between innings, Rizzuto started carrying his back to the dugout and guarding it closely when teammates—particularly Johnny Lindell—began stuffing worms inside of it. Whitey Ford once hung a dead mouse over Rizzuto’s steering wheel and Mantle allegedly stuck a firecracker under the hood. Even when Charlie Keller stuffed “Scooter” in his locker one day and shut the door, the unflappable infielder was able to laugh it off. “That [was] Phil,” Mantle said. “A beautiful guy—not a bad bone in his body. Always trusting and so gullible it made him a pushover for all the pranks we used to play on him.” 

            During a 1952 road trip, Mantle sat next to Rizzuto on a train bound for Cleveland and initiated an in-depth discussion about snakes. As Rizzuto literally began to squirm in his seat, Mantle laid it on thick, knowing that his teammate had grown up in New York City and knew very little about country life. “I owned one,” he said. “...pulled out his fangs with my fingers and trained him as a house pet. Cute little bugger.”

            Rizzuto had heard enough at that point. “Please, Mickey,” he pleaded. “What are you trying to do, make me blow the pennant?” 

            Mantle continued to play jokes on “Scooter” long after his retirement. On July 11, 1992, the Yankees held their 46th annual Old Timers’ Day celebration. In addition to Mantle, the event included appearances from Joe DiMaggio, Whitey Ford, Hank Bauer, and Allie Reynolds. Rizzuto, who had retired from his broadcasting job by then, was working as a special correspondent. He was wandering the dugout talking to senior Yankee alumni when Mantle called him over. Rizzuto notified Tom Seaver in the broadcast booth that he was going to engage with his former teammate. 

            “How you doing, Mick?” Rizzuto said.

            “...That thing on?” Mantle asked, tapping Scooter’s mic.

            “Sure is,” Rizzuto confirmed.

            Mantle issued a prolific stream of profanity, leaving Rizzuto absolutely flabbergasted. 

            “Mary Mother of God!” the Hall of Fame shortstop stammered, covering the mic with his hand and beating a hasty retreat.  “Holy Cow, Mick!” 

            Players within earshot burst into fits of laughter.

If you enjoyed this excerpt, you might consider picking up a copy of The Legend of the Mick, which is set for release on March 1 through The Lyons Press.

EXCERPTS FROM THE LEGEND OF THE MICK (PART IV) Mantle Clashes with Stengel

 

THE BUBBLE GUM INCIDENT

 

            On September 10, 1953, the Yankees were closing out their season series against the White Sox in New York. With a 9-game lead in the standings and 15 games left to play, another pennant seemed to be a foregone conclusion. Lefty junk-baller Eddie Lopat was in command for the Yankees that day, allowing just 4 hits. In the late innings of the game—which was played on a Thursday afternoon in front of a relatively small crowd—Mantle began blowing bubbles from a clump of gum that was bulging from his cheek. An Associated Press photographer captured the moment on film, creating a major stir. 

            Despite his remarkable skills, Mantle had still not emerged as the eminent power threat he was made out to be. Though many of his home runs traveled considerable distances, he went deep just 21 times in 127 games while finishing second in the American League in strikeouts. A handful of sportswriters questioned his commitment to the team and accused him of not playing hard enough. The bubble gum photo, which was printed in local newspapers across the country, made Mantle appear as if he was slacking off.    

            Casey Stengel was livid. An article published in The Sporting News described the subsequent confrontation between the two men as such: “[Stengel] hauled Mantle on the carpet and asked him what he thought he was doing out there. Casey uttered about fifty dozen choice words, and Bubbles, of course, had nothing to say except, ‘It will never happen again.’” 

            After admonishing Mantle for his actions, Stengel vented his frustration to an army of reporters, using phrases such as “juvenile silliness” and “kid stuff.” Mantle pouted a bit, but kept quiet about the incident, which ended on a positive note. During the early-1950s, the Bazooka and Bowman companies supplied major league dugouts with free gum hoping to win the loyalty of players and gain exclusive rights. Frank Scott—the agent handling Mantle’s commercial affairs—called up Bowman and cut an endorsement deal. Ironically, it was Bazooka gum that Mantle had been chewing in the controversial photo.  

If you enjoyed this excerpt, consider picking up a copy of The Legend of the Mick, which is being released on March 1 through The Lyon Press. 

EXCERPTS FROM THE LEGEND OF THE MICK (Part III) Mantle and Sign Stealing

 

A Little Help from His Friends 

    Humble about his own abilities, Mantle once told a writer, “I was never known for being a smart baseball player . . . I could run and throw and hit. But I didn’t know the game.” Pitcher Bob Turley was among several teammates Mantle turned to for help over the years. A Cy Young Award winner and World Series MVP in 1958, Turley was adept at stealing signs from opposing teams. He acquired the skill while pitching for the lowly St. Louis Browns during the early 1950s. 

    “That’s always been a part of the game and it will be part of the game forever,” said Hall of Famer Whitey Ford. “[Turley] was the best at it on our team. Some guys liked to know what was coming. Mickey did, especially batting left-handed.” 

    Utilizing his sharp observational skills, Turley was able to reliably predict the arrival of curves and fastballs. Though players like Yogi Berra and Moose Skowron preferred not to know what pitches were on the way, Mantle (a dead fastball hitter) used Turley’s advance notifications to a distinct advantage. If Mantle heard Turley whistle, he knew a heater was coming. If the Yankee hurler remained quiet, it meant that a breaking pitch would follow. 

    In addition to stealing signs directly from catchers, Turley learned to interpret the idiosyncrasies of pitchers. Some were more obvious than others. For instance, Connie Johnson of the Orioles had a habit of moving his right foot to the left side of the mound when he delivered his signature screwball. Early Wynn positioned his hands at different levels depending on what he was going to throw, and Jim Bunning had slight variations in his windup. “All pitchers are trying to be perfect and if you observe them, you can pick it all up,” Turley told a writer from the New York Daily News. 

    Mantle estimated that Turley’s predictions were accurate about 70 percent of the time. He gave the hurler credit for a quarter of his home runs between 1955 and 1962. “Mickey exaggerated a little bit,” Turley joked. “It was good for my ego.”

If you enjoyed this excerpt, you might consider picking up a copy of The Legend of the Mick, which is set for release on March 1 through The Lyons Press.