Header - Baseball by the Letters

Month: July 2010

Taming The Temper of Ted Williams

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Broadcaster Bob Wolff excelled as a journalist, maintaining objectivity while enjoying friendships with players. That tightrope walk worked even with Ted Williams. Without Wolff’s intervention, Williams may have become the first silent star, a 1950s predecessor to Steve Carlton.

Wolff wrote:

“Ted Williams was an individualist — and such a great hitter that, when he took batting practice before a game — players on both sides would pause what they were doing to watch him in action. If he didn’t do well, being anxious to perform well, I let him cool off before making a connection with him. When Ted got into a problem in Boston and was booed there for criticizing some press members and fans, he vowed never to do another interview. He had promised me that he would go on with me in his next trip to Washington and I mentioned his promise to him when he came to town.

‘Ted,’ I said, ‘you promised to do an interview with me, but as a friend, I’ll forget that if you want to back out. You see, my job, if you go on, is to ask you about the incident in Boston. That’s my responsibility as a reporter. If I don’t do that, my management will get on me for not doing what I should do. But as a friend, I’m giving you the choice to back out — so it’s up to you.’

Ted said, ‘I’ll be there with you and ask anything you want.’

Ted did the show, said he felt remorse about his actions and said he had exploded because some of his critics had given untrue versions of his good relationship with his team. he concluded his interview with me by saying, ‘and Bob, I’m delighted to go on with you because you’ve always been so fair to me.’

I think today’s journalists, if they took the time to understand him, would have received the same treatment. He was a likable guy who loved speaking baseball, not controversy.”


I can’t wait for Wolff’s new book: Bob Wolff’s Complete Guide to Sportscasting: How to Make It in Sportscasting (With or Without Talent)

Bob Wolff on the Birth of Minnesota Twins

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Broadcaster Bob Wolff saw Senators become Twins overnight. He broadcast Minnesota’s first season from Metropolitan Stadium.

I asked him to compare the ballpark to Washington’s home. I confessed that I had limited adjectives for my trips to “the Met,” with the words “cold” and “windy” appearing most frequently. Wolff replied:

“My memories of Metropolitan Stadium were very positive. I loved the large crowds, and their response to the team. the team was on the rise. Sitting in the TV or radio booth there, I was pretty well-shielded from ‘cold’ and ‘windy.’ In Washington, it was ‘hot’ and ‘hotter.'”

Wolff inspired me to give Metropolitan Stadium one more chance (in my imagination, at least). I scoured the ‘net for a nice ballpark bio. Too many read like obituaries. Then, I discovered that “The Met” has its own Facebook page. Want to see a ballpark come alive again? Check this out!

Broadcaster Bob Wolff, Senators BP Pitcher!

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Imagine Vin Scully shagging flies or Harry Caray fielding grounders. Broadcasters working out with their teams?

Mind you, we’re not talking about a player-turned-announcer. Just consider seeing someone go from the pressbox to the practice field.

Bob Wolff did it regularly for the Washington Senators, from 1947-60. Yes, he’s the colorful announcer who named his memoir It’s Not Who Won or Lost the Game – It’s How You Sold the Beer. (Out of print, but available from used booksellers.) Wolff rose to fame in the 1960s, graduating from the inaugural Minnesota Twins broadcasters to NBC Game of the Week. He won the Hall of Fame’s Ford Frick Award for career achievements in baseball broadcasting in 1995.

Who knew that this athletic play-by-play man may have been wearing a baseball uniform, if not for two crucial breaks. Here’s how the one-and-only Bob Wolff described it on paper to me:

“Breaking my ankle playing baseball at duke University proved to be a big break in my career. Considered a top prospect in high school, I went to Duke because, at that time, they sent more collegians into pro baseball than any other school. When injured, the local CBS radio station asked me to sit in on their game broadcasts. I soon had my own shows on the station and helped to work my way through college as a broadcaster.

After World War II, at age 27, when I was hired as Washington D.C.’s first television sportscaster, broadcasting the Washington Senators, I wanted to keep in shape by playing ball and the team – and the players – were pleased that I had the ability to pitch batting practice to them. They also let me do some hitting for the fun of it before going up to the TV booth. I became ball-playing friends with the players, we talked baseball together, ate together and they were delighted to be on TV and radio pre-and post-game shows as my friends. The same was true with visiting players and eventually I formed my own company doing interviews with all – the pre-game shows before Yankees games, Red Sox games, Kansas City and elsewhere as well as Washington, of course. My playing helped my relationships. All the stars and non-stars seemed to enjoy chatting with me – and this helped my career tremendously.

As a player, I was fast, had great defensive ability, threw well, had a .583 batting average my last season in high school, was a line-drive hitter, but lacked the power to be a center fielder, didn’t have enough home runs. My Duke coach wanted to shift me to shortstop but a broken finger on a bad hop sidelined me again – so I went back to the radio and eventually TV booth and since then watched my children – my wife Jane and I have three – excel as ballplayers.

I don’t know of any other broadcaster who worked out with the team. It wasn’t a publicity stunt – I contributed to them an d enjoyed doing it. Most of the writers then and other broadcasters were older men – some had been players – and I was through with my workouts before they arrived at the ballpark. they,  too, were good friends and seemed to enjoy my proving that it’s possible to have athletic as well as journalistic skills. I’m fortunate to have both and I never sensed any concern about my dual role.”

Tomorrow: Wolff, as the voice of the first-year Twins, compares Minnesota to Washington, D.C.

Coming Soon: A HOFer (?) + Stan Williams!

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Do you mean a REAL Hall of Famer?!?

I heard from a Ford Frick winner, tireless broadcaster Bob Wolff. The writers and announcers have brought such baseball joy to me, I struggle to put an asterisk by their name. Technically, their name gets added to one huge award in Cooperstown. They aren’t enshrined with their own plaque.

Once I read Wolff’s DETAILED memories, I was sure he deserved some kind of HOF recognition. His revelations were jewels I had never found in any published history.

The same goes for pitcher Stan Williams. He returned a two-page letter full of amazing stories. The gritty pitcher is scouting for the Washington Nationals this year, he wrote. Quick, someone write him for an account of Stephen Strasburg. Does he seem glimpses of himself?

What Williams lacks in career stats, he makes up for with jaw-dropping insights. I think book publishers would race to get a memoir out of the former relief ace.

Additionally, I’ll have a great account of two “cups of coffee” from 1950s abbreviated careers, one from the Cincinnati Reds and the other with the Detroit Tigers. There’s no July vacation here. Superb baseball memories are sizzling on the grill.

Exploring Autograph Collecting Graveyards

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All you need is a search engine.

There are many abandoned autograph collecting websites on the ‘net. At least, these are sites that have not been updated in 2010. I’d guess they may never see another addition. If the sites aren’t dead, they’re in critical condition.

What’s happening?

Of course, I know that keeping up a site takes time. Personal problems may ensue.

However, my hunch is that some of these webmasters have dropped the hobby. The cost of stamps, frustrating return rates for current players or players who scribble their names: many possibilities could convince a collector to surrender.

My advice? If you have a hobby website you love, thank the webmaster now. Encourage them to keep sharing their autograph discoveries. Your praise might save the life of the website you love.

Readers: do you know autograph collectors who’ve quit? What drove them out? How can we help others stay?