Saturday, July 23, 2011

Box Scores from Baltimore

 
When I got hooked on baseball in the late sixties, there were precious few avenues by which a fan could access the players and the games.  Television coverage of the sport was sporadic at best.  An AM radio broadcast of a Major League game was constantly interrupted by fade-outs and fade-ins, and the commentary was often obliterated by the ever-present static.  A good in-depth interview of an every-day player was hard to find, since the major sports magazines focused only on the stars.  Following baseball during that time required work…but the industrious fan could always find ways to keep in close touch with the game.

Legendary broadcaster Chuck Thompson was
the voice of the Baltimore sports scene for
30 years, calling Orioles and Colts games
before stepping down in 1987.
The words of the radio announcers, when they did come through clearly, stirred the imagination, while the columns of the newspaper and magazine sportswriters brought unique perspective and wit to the fans throughout the season.  A plentiful selection of baseball books could be found in the town library for those fans wishing to explore the history of the grand game.  Most of all, that ingenious invention referred to as the box score kept every baseball fan up-to-date on the performance of their favorite players and teams.  The daily newspaper, particularly the evening edition with the late west-coast scores, became an invaluable asset to this budding fan.

I was exploring as many of these outlets as I could while I searched for a team that would satisfy my passion for good baseball, and perhaps inspire my permanent loyalty.  The National League team closest to the suburbs of Harrisburg was the Philadelphia Phillies, while the nearest team from the American League was the Baltimore Orioles.  For some reason, the Phillies did not spark my interest…their players didn’t seem very exciting, and outside of Richie Allen, they had no MVP-type superstars.  On the other hand, Baltimore boasted of not one, but two league MVPs in triple-crown winner Frank Robinson and gold-glove third baseman Brooks Robinson.  The Orioles also had one of the finest young pitching staffs in all of baseball, led by lefty ace Dave McNally and future Hall-of Famer Jim Palmer.

It took a midsummer outing with my Dad to seal the deal.  One Sunday afternoon in July 1968, my Dad took me and my brothers fishing near a south-central Pennsylvania dam.  Close by was another fisherman, who happened to have his radio tuned to an AM station in nearby York.  On the radio was the ballgame between the Orioles and the Detroit Tigers.  As a result of the beautiful weather and the proximity of the radio station, the game was coming in crystal clear.  I became less and less interested in fishing and more interested in the game as it extended into the late innings.  The announcers continued to make the point that Baltimore was closing in on the first-place Tigers, and that today’s doubleheader could vault the Orioles into second place should they sweep.

"Boog" was short for "Booger," which his father
called him when he was little, and it's always
fun to have a guy named Booger on the team.
The game was a close one, tied 2-2 going to the top of the sixth.  Orioles’ right-fielder Frank Robinson, who already had an RBI single in the fourth, smashed a one-out double off Tigers’ starter Earl Wilson to put the lead run in scoring position.  The O’s needed a clutch hit from the next batter to take the lead, and Orioles’ first baseman Boog Powell did not disappoint.  He slashed a single up the middle into center field to send Robinson home and push Baltimore into the lead.  I had never heard of this guy before, but after he drove in that go-ahead run, I somehow sensed that I had found a new hero.  This guy with the coolest of names would soon become one of my favorite players.

We stayed at the fishing hole long enough to hear Orioles’ second baseman Davey Johnson tag Wilson for a home run in the top of the seventh, and after thanking the gentleman with the radio, we headed back home for a fish dinner.  Thanks to the half dozen fish my Dad and my brothers caught (I proved a very unsuccessful and distracted fisherman that day), we had an excellent feast.  Later that evening, I tried in vain to pick up the second game of the doubleheader on the York station, and perhaps catch the final score of the opener, but could not reproduce the clear signal from that afternoon.  I would have to depend on tomorrow’s paper for the box scores.

I was thrilled the next day when I opened the evening sports section and read that Baltimore had indeed swept the doubleheader, and was now 5 1/2 games out of first place.  I followed the baseball box scores every day after that as the 1968 American League pennant race continued in earnest.  I tried to listen to the Orioles' games on the York AM station whenever I could, fighting through the static to hear bits and pieces of the action, and making sure that I knew the final score of each game as soon as it was finished.  Imagine my surprise when, on a Monday afternoon that August, I made a startling discovery.

VINTAGE ZENITH TABLETOP TUBE RADIO, K731
My mother had recently bought a new AM/FM console radio, and had set it on a bookshelf in our living room.  She was listening to a classical FM station that afternoon when I asked if I could try the new radio.  As I turned the dial looking for a popular music station, I heard the unmistakable voice of Orioles broadcaster Chuck Thompson flash by.  I quickly turned the dial back, half-expecting that what I had heard was just a commercial.  When I tuned in the station, I could not believe that I had stumbled upon an FM broadcast of the Orioles game with the Oakland A's!  It was like finding my own personal Holy Grail...a radio station on the high-tech FM band which carried Baltimore baseball games.  I listened intently as the starting lineups were recited, completely static-free and well beyond what I considered as crystal clear.

I ran to get a kitchen chair, and placed it right in front of the bookshelf.  I soon found out that the broadcast originated from Hagerstown, Maryland, and that it was clearly audible during the critically important early evening hours (the normal time that AM stations began to fade out).  I sat there riveted to the newly discovered station as Orioles took an immediate first-inning lead on a Brooks Robinson two-run homer and a bases loaded walk.  With two down, the bases remained loaded as Orioles pitcher Dave McNally came to the plate.  Not expecting McNally to do much as a hitter, I got ready to run into the kitchen for a soda.  Before I could get up, McNally blasted a pitch out of the park for a grand slam.  I jumped up and yelled as Thompson excitedly informed the listening audience that the Orioles now had a 7-0 lead.

This dominant duo put together some very impressive
numbers during their nine seasons together. In the five-year
period from 1969 to '73, Palmer (22) and McNally (19)
combined to go 194-97.
Because I was so overjoyed after that hit, my mind began to race.  What a team this Baltimore squad is!  Two MVP's!  A first baseman named Boog!  Pitchers who hit grand slams!  Five games behind Detroit for first place!  I realized at that moment that these Orioles were not just a passing fancy; I understood that I had unquestionably found my team.  Not only that, with my new Hagerstown FM station, I could listen to uninterrupted coverage of Orioles games, day or night.  I stayed in that kitchen chair in front of that radio for the next five hours, listening to entire broadcast of both ends of the twi-night doubleheader.  McNally, thanks to his excellent pitching and his five RBIs in the opener, won his 17th game of the season by a score of 8-2.  The nightcap featured a pitchers' duel between Oakland's Catfish Hunter and the Orioles' Gene Brabender, won by Oakland with two late runs, 2-0.  These games were the first I had ever heard over the radio from beginning to end.

As the season came down the stretch, Baltimore had only a few more opportunities to close on the Tigers.  After sweeping a doubleheader from the A's on August 27th, the team was four games back with a 78‑54 record.  The Orioles then dropped two in a row to Washington before their most critical series of the year - against the Tigers in Detroit.  The O's and Tigers split the first two games, but the Tigers took the rubber match behind Denny McLain's 27th victory of the season.  The Orioles began to fade after that series, finishing under .500 over their last 30 games and finally settling for second place, 12 games behind the pennant winners.

Both Boog Powell and Frank Robinson had excellent seasons in 1968, with Powell leading the team in the power categories (22 homers and 85 RBIs) and Robinson leading in batting (.268 average, which was actually very good in this Year of the Pitcher).  Brooks Robinson provided solid offensive support to go along with his unparalleled gold-glove defense at third.  Dave McNally finished the season with a 22-10 record, a 1.95 ERA and 202 strikeouts in 35 starts, statistics which may have led the league in any other year, but were not nearly good enough to top McLain's incredible 31 wins, Sam McDowell's 283 strikeouts and Luis Tiant's 1.60 ERA.  Baltimore finished with a respectable 91 wins, pretty good for a second-place team, but far behind the outstanding 103 wins of Detroit.  Despite their late-season fade, the Orioles had a core group of very talented players, and would only get better with the addition of Mike Cuellar to the pitching staff the following year.  With a team as good as this, I was sure that Baltimore would be back in 1969 with a vengeance.

I often look back with fondness on my first full season as a baseball fan.  The groundwork for a lifetime of sporting enjoyment was laid in those first exciting weeks when I began following that great Baltimore Orioles team.  The players became larger than life, through the numbers in the box scores and the veritable poetry of the radio broadcasts.  By today's standards, the tools I used in 1968 to stay in touch with the sport seem positively antiquated.  But on the other hand, hearing a game on the radio and perusing box scores in the paper brings back a certain nostalgic excitement not to be duplicated by instantaneous internet updates and high-definition cable television images.  The presentation of the game of baseball has changed by quantum leaps through the years with ever-improving technology, but the essence of the game remains the same, fueled by the power of imagination and locked in the simplicity of the past.


Photo Credits:  Chuck Thompson, Boog Powell, Zenith AM/FM Console Radio, Dave McNally and Jim Palmer, Frank Robinson.


Thanks to baseball-reference.com for boxscores and statistics from the 1968 season.

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