I’m glad I wrote to Earl Weaver when I had a chance.

I never asked for an autograph. I had something to give him.

The last game I ever saw at Minnesota’s Metropolitan Stadium was an Orioles-Twins affair. I don’t have the date or the final score right now.

No stat could compare to the image. I sat on the 3rd base side. I loved going to a game before the game. I loved watching players be boys. That’s when they have the most fun.

Well, manager Weaver was walking across the field, chatting up an attentive Lee May. The skipper threw back his head and laughed. May smiled and nodded, hanging on every word.

“Weaver…you son of a bitch!”

Ever hear all the wind sucked out of a place with one collective gasp? It wasn’t me shouting. Some rabid Twins fan wanted to be heard.

Weaver heard. He scanned the stands. May spread his huge arms, ready for battle. He took one purposeful stride toward my section.

I never spotted the screamer. But I swear I can hear the SQUEAK followed by the sound of running.

“The Duke of Earl” grabbed May’s elbow. He looked at his manager, who burst out laughing. They continued to the dugout, unphased by the muttering buzz from the stands.

Did the O’s like Weaver? I sent him proof. I saw one who would have committed a crime for him!

Time to create a new statistic. Jim Bouton gets the first “historical” assist. Okay…save one for Tom House in the Atlanta bullpen when Hank Aaron set homer history (but that’s another story).

Tom Shopay began his baseball life as a New York Yankee. On Sept. 23, 1967, Shopay collected his first-ever home run, off Minnesota’s Dave Boswell at Metropolitan Stadium. Meanwhile, Bouton collected the artifact, negotiating with partisan Twins rooters. I’m guessing that the famous author-to-be served as a horse-trading Santa Claus for more than one rookie in his pitching career.

As Shopay saw it:

(Thanks to www.retrosheet.org for the details!)

Shopay was a Rule 5 draft acquisition by the Orioles, ending his brief time in pinstripes. I asked him to compare the media attention he observed with each team.

Tomorrow: Words of wisdom from Baltimore manager Earl Weaver.

Eric Soderholm lived two lives. He’s known to many as a gritty Minnesota Twins third baseman. Others remember the reborn slugger who found his career comeback as one of the Chicago White Sox “South Side Hit Men” in 1977.

I saw him play in Minnesota, providing the foundation for two questions.
First, I asked what it was like to play in the company of three stars — Harmon Killebrew, Tony Oliva and Rod Carew. Soderholm replied:

“Killebrew, Carew and Oliva were world class, on and off field. Learned from their determination.”

I shivered when I thought about seeing Soderholm play at Metropolitan Stadium. In fact, every Twins game there left me with a BRRR! My folks loved the easy access to the ballpark from Iowa. Other teams played in CITIES. The Twins played…nearby.

“The Met was a nice park for right-handed hitters — but COLD!”

A knee injury shelved Soderholm for all of 1976. When The Sporting News named him American League Comeback Player of the Year, I wondered how he felt about the title.

A well-done profile of Soderholm, written by Mark Liptak, can be found at one of my favorite websites, Baseball Almanac.

Tomorrow: An inside peek at the “Baseball By The Letters” mailbox.

Am I the only fan on earth who thought it would’ve been great to have Mike Cubbage play for the Cubs? After all,. his name wasn’t Mike TWINage! Broadcasters would have feasted on that wordplay.

No, I didn’t ask the infielder that. Instead, I quizzed him on what might have been his finest moment at bat: April 27, 1978, devouring Toronto pitching before an appreciative Metropolitan Stadium gathering of 18,258. Four hits. One of everything. Cubbage hit for the cycle. (Thanks to http://www.retrosheet.org/ for preserving the moment.)

His recollections:

The humble hitter chose to ignore his four RBI, accounting for a 6-3 win.

Tomorrow: Cubbage recalls his mastery of Hall of Famer Jim Palmer.

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!

Growing up in the Midwest, it seems like Frank Quilici is a Twins tradition. Whether infielder, manager or long-time color commentator, he’s a big part of team history.

Reading about Frank, the first surprise that popped up was his nickname:

Guido.

Not being Italian, I puzzled at the accounts of teammates tagging Frank with “Guido.” Was this just a sign of more relaxed, less-politically correct times?
Try listing all ethnic nicknames for current players. Can you think of any?

I asked in a letter, along with a request for memories of Metropolitan Stadium and that 1965 A.L. Championship squad. I received a sparkling reply to my letter: