Before World War II, trades between American and National League clubs were relatively rare, at the trade deadline, off-season, or otherwise. But then, the farm systems built by the likes of Branch Rickey and George Weiss were just taking root in the 1930s, and the independent minor league clubs – particularly those in the Pacific Coast League – provided a readily accessible market for teams looking for an extra push to the pennant tape.

One of the earlier notable late-season acquisitions occurred in August 1932, when the Chicago Cubs acquired Mark Koenig from the PCL San Francisco Missions. Koenig was the starting shortstop for the legendary 1927 Yankees, serving in the Bronx from 1925 until he was traded to the Tigers mid-season in 1930. After a couple mediocre years in Detroit, he was shipped off to the Missions to begin the 1932 season.

Koenig took full advantage of his return to the majors, hitting a robust .353 in 33 games as a stop-gap starter to help propel the Cubs to the National League pennant. By the time the World Series began, though, regular shortstop Billy Jurges was back in the lineup, in time to suffer a four-game humiliation at the hands of the same Yankees that had once employed Koenig. The 1932 World Series was acrimonious, to say the least. Before play began, it was found out that the Cubs had voted Koenig a half-share of their World Series earnings, not insignificant during the Depression, when a slice of the October pie would often exceed a player’s annual salary. Upon hearing this, the Yankees jumped all over the Cubs for their perceived parsimony in rewarding Koenig’s considerable, though brief, contributions. Babe Ruth, a friend of Koenig’s, publicly labeled the Cubs “cheapskates.” In reply, the Cubs, a rollicking crew in those days of Al Capone’s Chicago, hurled epithets at Ruth less suitable for print. This culminated in the Babe’s “called shot” in Game 3, the incidentals of which are largely apocryphal, and thus suitable for baseball lore.

The turn of events that expedited Koenig’s arrival to Chicago is a story in itself. It seems that Jurges had been dating a Chicago showgirl by the name of Violet Popovich Valli, but had decided to end the relationship. Miss Valli, not one to accept rejection passively, called on Jurges at his room in the Carlos Hotel on the morning of July 6, 1932. As the story goes, Valli paid Jurges a visit in Room 509 with a .25 caliber pistol and intentions of suicide. As Jurges tried to wrest the weapon away from her, he took one bullet to a rib and another to the palm of his right hand. A third shot ended up in Valli’s wrist, and she ran off. None of the injuries proved to be life-threatening, and ultimately no charges were filed. In the aftermath, Valli, flush with new-found notoriety, parlayed her 15 minutes of fame into a theatrical contract billing her as “Violet (I Did It For Love) Valli – The Most Talked About Girl in Chicago.” Jurges, for his part, recovered by September and went on to play for another 15 years. And Koenig? He stayed on with the Cubs through 1933, then moved on to Cincinnati Reds by way of Philadelphia for a season before finishing up with two years as a New York Giant – and ironically made his last major league appearance against his old Yankee teammates in the 1936 World Series.

4D

Well, none of that has anything to do with baseball, especially considering that my friend is one of the 929 Japanese who are not rabid baseball fans. But I did take the time to start reading David Halberstam’s October 1964, and while I haven’t finished it yet, I was immediately struck by some passages in the Prologue:

“(T)he young Chicago Cub outfielder, rejoining his team in Arizona, was determined that this season he would finally make his breakthrough . . . His employers were no longer confident of his abilities – and with good reason, for he had played well below his potential so far.

“The coaches saw him as a leadoff hitter, but like most hitters, he believed himself a power hitter when he first reached the major leagues . . . Suddenly he was supposed to hit at the top of the order, and the whole purpose of each at bat changed: he was to get on base, rather than to drive the ball. Some of the Cubs coaches were trying to mold him into becoming . . . a classic leadoff hitter who knew how to hit to the opposite field and how to take a lot of pitches and draw walks from pitchers . . . He hoped the coaches would not try to mess with him anymore, that they would just let him hit. He feared that the Cub management might send him back to the minor leagues for more seasoning.”

This refers, of course, to Lou Brock, who was traded from the Cubs on June 15, 1964 to the St. Louis Cardinals. But anyone who has been following the Cubs the past few years can easily apply this depiction to Corey Patterson in recent years. This comparison chills the blood of veteran Cub fans everywhere. Brock was packaged with non-descript pitchers Jack Spring and Paul Toth for an equally non-descript outfielder, Doug Clemens, and two pitchers who had already seen their best seasons, Bobby Shantz and Ernie Broglio. Brock and Broglio, who had won 60 games for the Redbirds the previous four years with a 3.15 ERA, were the central figures in the trade. While Brock went on to carve out a Hall of Fame career with St. Louis, the sore-armed Broglio posted a 7-19, 5.40 record for the Cubs before making his final major league appearance on July 2, 1966. It was said that after Broglio figuratively hung up his spikes that day, he gathered them, along with his uniform and all his other equipment, and literally set fire to the whole kit and kaboodle. Going down in flames, so to speak.

The Broglio-Brock trade did not seem like so lopsided at the time, however. Broglio had won 18 games in 1963, and Brock was viewed as the epitome of promise unfulfilled. Like Patterson forty-odd years later, Brock displayed a rare combination of speed and power – he is one of three players to have homered into the center field bleachers of the Polo Grounds, nearly 500 feet from home plate. His averages with the Cubs prior to the deal were quite similar to Patterson’s tenure on the team:

w/ ChC AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI BB K AVG OBP SLG OPS SB
Brock 1207 183 310 52 20 20 86 88 261 .257 .306 .383 .689 50
Patterson 2176 293 549 99 21 70 231 111 552 .252 .293 .414 .707 86

Well, you know how the Lou Brock story ends. He hit .348 through the end of 1964 after joining the Cardinals and helped them to their first World Series crown in 18 years. While it does not appear that the 2006 Orioles are on track to become a team of destiny, Patterson has enjoyed a renaissance with the Baltimore Orioles this year, after leaving the unfriendly confines of Wrigley Field. He has played in 80 of the Orioles’ 90 games this year, so let’s compare his stats with Brock’s first 80 games with the Cardinals in 1964:

80 games AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI BB K AVG OBP SLG OPS SB
Brock 325 64 114 17 6 8 33 21 68 .351 .390 .514 .904 30
Patterson 277 44 77 9 1 10 35 14 52 .278 .315 .426 .741 31

Not much of a comparison there, especially taking into account a couple factors: (1) Brock was 25 years old in 1964; Patterson will turn 27 in August, and (2) Analysis of these stats must take into account the era in which they played. Although 1964 was best hitting year of the “modern deadball era” of 1963-68, hitters did not fare nearly as well then as they are this year. Brock registered numbers far above the league average, while Patterson is actually performing below the norm:

1964 AVG OBP SLG OPS
Brock .315 .358 .464 .822
(w/ ChC) .251 .300 .390 .690
(w/ StL) .348 .387 .527 .914
NL .254 .311 .374 .685

2006 AVG OBP SLG OPS
Patterson .278 .315 .426 .741
AL .273 .337 .431 .777

It would appear that, despite apparent historical parallels, the Cubs will not remember trading Patterson in the same manner as the Brock deal. There is still time for Corey to develop, of course, and he has cut down drastically on his strikeouts, but he is not currently on course for an anointment in Cooperstown.

One last note: It's a good thing that Patterson was shipped off to the American League, if indeed he were to emulate Brock in future meetings with his old club. Brock made the Cubs his personal punching bag throughout his career, posting better numbers against them than any other team:

Brock AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI BB K AVG OBP SLG OPS SB
vs. Cubs 1024 177 342 64 12 20 103 67 174 .334 .378 .479 .857 98
vs. others 9308 1433 2681 422 129 129 797 694 1567 .285 .339 .403 .742 840

The greater portion of that damage was done the first four years after leaving Chicago:

1964-67 AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI BB K AVG OBP SLG OPS SB
Vs. Cubs 270 62 107 16 5 15 42 6 41 .396 .412 .659 1.071 26

If he bore any animosity against the Cubs organization, Lou seemed to get most of the bile out of his system after a few years. So, maybe Cubs management did learn something from the Brock trade, not only dealing Patterson out of the division but out of the National League altogether.

4D

PS: Please excuse the sloppiness of the tables. We'll have to figure out a way to drop them in here so they are more easily deciphered.

I was driving to work a couple weeks ago when I heard that Moe Drabowsky had passed away on June 10. My first thought was, of course, the 1966 World Series and 11 strikeouts. Drabowsky was one of those players whose career was pretty much defined by a single World Series game, like Howard Ehmke or Don Larsen. Or Bill Bevens and Cookie Lavagetto, who shared the same spotlight, although Bevens got the short end of that one.

Anyway, Drabowsky had a reasonably successful, if not outstanding, career. It spanned 17 years, certainly a significant tour of duty, over which he posted a mediocre 88-105 win-loss record with 55 saves. Drabowsky was also known as a clubhouse prankster, and once gave Commissioner Bowie Kuhn a hotfoot, which by itself should have gained him entry into Cooperstown. But for his first 11 years in the majors, his claim to fame was defined by dubious brushes with greatness. He tied a record by hitting four batters in one game in 1957, allowed Stan Musial’s 3000th hit a year later, and was the losing pitcher when Early Wynn finally captured his 300th career victory in 1963. Moe also claimed the first victory for the Kansas City Royals franchise in 1969, and to my knowledge is still the only MLB player to have been born in Poland (his parents immigrated to the US in 1938 when he was three).

After toiling with also-rans like the Chicago Cubs and Kansas City A’s, he had the fortune of being dealt to the Baltimore Orioles in time for their first World Series appearance in 1966. Moe, formerly a starting pitcher, had enjoyed a rebirth as part of a deep Oriole bullpen, going 6-0 with seven saves and a 2.81 ERA. His legacy would change with one appearance on October 5, 1966.

The Orioles faced the reigning champion Los Angeles Dodgers for the 1966 World Series, and in Game 1, they chased Don Drysdale for a 4-1 lead after two innings, most the damage done by back-to-back homers by the Robinsons, Frank and Brooks, in the first. But when Baltimore starter Dave McNally faltered in the third, Drabowsky came on with one out and the bases juiced, courtesy of three free passes. Moe promptly fanned Wes Parker, but then walked Junior Gilliam to force in a run and make it 4-2. It would be the last run the Dodgers would score for the balance of the Series.

Drabowsky got John Roseboro to foul out, then proceeded to close out the game with 11 strikeouts over six and two-thirds innings, including six in a row over the fourth and fifth frames. He allowed just one hit and two walks, and the 11 strikeouts still stand as a World Series record for a reliever.

That was just the beginning of the Dodgers’ frustration at the plate. The next three games featured complete game shutouts at the young hands of Jim Palmer (age 20), Wally Bunker (21) and McNally (23). The Baltimore pitchers held them to an all-time low .142 average, allowing just 17 hits and those two Game 1 runs. Another event of note: Willie Davis had a particularly bad day in Game 2, losing fly balls in the sun to consecutive batters in the fifth inning, then making a wild throw for his third error of the inning, another Series record. And in the next frame, Davis and right fielder Ron Fairly both backed off a deep drive by Frank Robinson that fell for a triple. That all led to four runs – three unearned – that broke a scoreless tie, and a defeat for Sandy Koufax, a game that proved to be the last of his Hall of Fame career. Fortunately for Willie and Sandy, this was not the defining moment of their careers.

Parting shot: My lasting image of the 1966 World Series was the celebration following the final out in Game 4:

Forty years later I’m still impressed by the height of Brooks Robinson’s celebratory leap. I mean, it’s practically Jordanesque. Koufax had gotten a basketball scholarship to the University of Cincinnati before signing with the Dodgers – I wonder if he could have beaten Robinson one-on-one back then. Was Brooksie a high school basketball star too? Anyone know?

4D

Once in a radio interview about the Diamond Legends historical simulation, I was asked, “Where does this all begin?” – meaning our obsession with baseball statistics. I can’t remember my exact answer, but in the back of my mind the immediate response was simple: baseball cards. I mean, that’s where all this fascination with numbers first springs up, right? Grasping the significance of a .300 average (later shown to be of less importance than we thought), 20 wins, 30 or 40 or 50 home runs (depending on when you started following the game), 100 RBI, 200 strikeouts etc. And much to the delight of our elementary school teachers, actually applying mathematical concepts that previously existed beyond the periphery of our interest. Unfortunately, too many of us failed to grasp the significance of the cards’ potential market worth, and retroactively bemoan the day Mom unwittingly disposed of them long before their value as collectibles skyrocketed.

If you were like me, you devoured any book relating past deeds on the diamond. The Holy Grail arrived in 1969, the day my father came home from work and handed me the first MacMillan encyclopedia, which introduced a whole new world of Baseball Past. Pete Browning! Big Sam Thompson! Dolf Luque! Pat Malone! Names I never heard of, some with superhuman numbers (165 RBI in 118 games? With a .394 batting average?). Who were these guys?

Well, the success of that first MacMillan opened the gates, in hand with groundbreaking works like Lawrence Ritter’s The Glory of Their Times and Only the Ball Was White by Robert Peterson. A cascade of publications dedicated to baseball followed. Later on, Bill James checked in with his Abstracts to tell us what all those numbers on the backs of our long-lost baseball cards really meant, and along the way, got together with STATS to create the first Classic Game in 1992. After a few short years, there followed the logical leap to the internet, and now here we are.

OK, good, intro done. So, let’s get rolling and talk baseball. Feel free to chime in with your our thoughts as I ramble on.

4D