Golden Baseball Magazine
July 3, 2018

"John McGraw eats gunpowder every morning and washes it down with warm blood."

Umpire Arlie Latham on the Giants' legendary manager

Cardinals Clubhouse

Profile: Rogers Hornsby - VI

Hornsby's first full year as manager brought the Cardinals their first NL pennant.

Read more ...

Fantastic Finishes

The 1926 NL three-team race went down to the final weekend.

Read more ...

Memorable Game

1962 National League Playoff - Game 3
Giants @ Dodgers

Walt Alston was widely criticized for his managing in the late innings of this game.

Read more ...

How Would You Rule?

Manager asks for review of call that ruled his runner safe

Baseball Quiz

Who am I?

Red Sox Memories
The Teammates: A Portrait of a Friendship, David Halberstam (2003)
Johnny Pesky, Dominic DiMaggio, and their friend Dick Flavin reminisced as they drove from Illinois to Florida to visit Ted Williams in 2001
Pesky said Spud Chandler, the Yankees pitcher, was tough. "God, he was mean. He'd hit you in the ass, just for the sheer pleasure of it. It was like it made him feel good. I had shined his shoes when he had pitched out in the Coast League [when Johnny was a bat boy in Portland OR]. It was as if he had some personal thing against me, as if he was insulted by my being in the big leagues. He was the worst tipper in the Pacific Coast League, by the way. In 1942, which was my first year in Boston, we were playing the Yankees and he was pitching. Ted used to like to get Bobby [Doerr] and me, and sometimes Dom, and take us where we could watch the opposing pitcher warm up to see what he had - in those days they warmed up right in front of the dugout. So we were standing there, watching Chandler, who had a very tough sinkerball, and Jack Malaney of the old Boston Post came up to us. And he said, 'Pesky, you don't have a hit off Chandler this season. You're 0 for 14 against him.' And Ted said, 'That's right, Needle [Nose]. You're always trying to pull the ball against him. He throws a heavy ball - you can't pull it. Needle, I can't pull him, and I'm a foot taller than you and about forty pounds heavier. You have to go with the pitch.' So we get to the bottom of the eighth inning and the score is 1-1, and our catcher gets to first, and Dom doubles, and we have men on second third, and first is open. So I come up. Bill Dickey is catching, and he goes out to the mound to talk to Chandler. And before I get to the plate Ted takes me aside and says, 'Needle, that's Spud Chandler out there, and he throws a heavy ball. And he is not going to walk you to get to me. So you're going to get a pitch to hit. Don't try and pull it.' It's almost sixty years later and I can still hear him telling me that ... And I get up, and I take a couple of pitches, and I get a sinker and slap it to left, and two runs score. I'm on first and Chandler is going crazy, it's apparently very personal to him - just screaming at me. 'I'll stick one in your ear, you little shit. I'll get you.' Ted is standing at the plate, just grinning away. Ted steps in, and Chandler is still screaming at me, 'You little shit, I'll get you!' And it's like he's forgotten Ted is the hitter. He finally pitches to Ted, and Ted hits a rocket to right field. Home run! And Ted comes in to the dugout, and he's saying where is our horn-nosed little shortstop - 'Didn't I tell you about Chandler? Didn't I tell you? Chandler was so mad at you, he forgot I was the next hitter.'"
L-R: Ted Williams, Johnny Pesky, and Dominic DiMaggio; Spud Chandler
As they neared Philly, Dominic was saying that he was rather puzzled as to why he had been invited there. ... In an unusual feat for one of the younger players, Dominic had even managed to forge a genuine friendship with the great Lefty Grove, who had started his career ... in 1925 with the Athletics and had come to Boston in 1934 when Athletics owner and manager Connie Mack was selling off his best players due to financial difficulties. Lefty was a hard man, known as much for his misanthropy as for his brilliant pitching ...
Dominic's relationship with Grove did not start well. When Dom joined the Red Sox in the spring of 1940, Johnny Orlando, the clubhouse boy, brought him around the locker room and introduced him to everyone. "The only two who weren't there were Jimmie Foxx and Lefty Grove," recalled Dominic, "but pretty soon Foxx shows up and sticks out his hand and says, 'Welcome aboard, kid." But then Grove comes by and walks right by me and doesn't say a thing. And I'd heard that he was quite temperamental and so for two weeks we didn't speak. Every day it seemed we were in the elevator together, but we didn't talk. Not a word was said. And I was thinking, I'm a rookie, and rookies don't speak unless they're spoken to. Especially to Lefty Grove. So then a friend of mine from Boston came down, and said, 'What's this, I hear you don't talk to Lefty Grove?' And I said, 'You've got it all wrong, Grove doesn't speak to me ...'" The next day when Dominic was returning to the team hotel, he had to pass two rocking chairs on the front porch. Grove was in one and Orlando in the other. Dominic got very nervous. This was going to be a great social test: "My heart is beating terribly, but I get my nerve up, and I say, 'Hello, Lefty,' and he bounds up, grabs me, hugs me, tells Johnny Orlando to sit somewhere else, tells me to sit in Orlando's chair, and we sat and talked for hours. We became fast friends after that. I caught the last ball hit on his three hundredth victory, the last game he pitched. And I think I was one of two players invited to the dinner to celebrate that win - Jimmie Foxx was the other one."