Most will remember Jim Bouton for his book Ball Four, but I remember him for the day Rick Murray didn’t show up.
Good memories linger in your heart and mind, even in old age. Now 72, every time I read or hear the name “Jim Bouton,” I am drawn back to the summer of 1971 after I graduated from high school. Here’s why.
I played baseball for Hackensack High School in northern New Jersey. I finally made it to the varsity team in my senior year, thanks to great advice from my coach, Dave Seddon, and much hard work, which you can read about here.
I played second base and was selected as the All-League second baseman. We played in the Northern New Jersey Interscholastic League (NNJIL) and won the championship by defeating Wayne Valley High on the season’s final day. We finished with a league record of 16-2, while Wayne Valley fell to 14-4. Our overall record was 26-6.
We kept much of that team together in the summer of 1971 as our Connie Mack League team. We won the North Atlantic Regional tournament and then traveled to Albuquerque, New Mexico, to play in the Connie Mack World Series against the other seven regional winners. We won our first game but were eliminated via two consecutive losses in the double-elimination tournament.
I also played in the Metropolitan Baseball League, a semi-pro organization in northern New Jersey that summer. I use the word “played” loosely. The team, coached by former major league catcher John Orsino, primarily consisted of the Fairleigh Dickinson University team he coached. So, most starters were from that college team, and they played every inning. I understood that arrangement when I was asked to join the team, but I thought it would be a good experience to mix with more accomplished players in the league.
Bouton back in the day (photo courtesy Deadspin)
One of them was Jim Bouton, known for his controversial 1970 tell-all book Ball Four and as a fireball pitcher for the New York Yankees. Bouton posted outstanding seasons in 1963 and 1964, going 21-7 in 1963 with a 2.53 ERA and pitching in the World Series both seasons, getting two wins against the Cardinals in the 1964 Fall Classic.
An arm injury in 1965 derailed his signature fastball, so he turned to a knuckleball until his first retirement midway through the 1970 season. But Bouton never lost his competitive fire, plowing his way through the minor leagues in 1975 until he was called up in September 1978 to pitch for the Atlanta Braves, for whom he went 1-3 with a 4.97 ERA in five starts in his MLB swan song.
Bouton grew up in Ridgewood, New Jersey, near my hometown of Hackensack. After retiring and writing his book, he became a local celebrity and a local sports anchor for the New York City station WABC-TV. He also joined the Ridgewood team in the Met League.
One evening that summer of 1971, we played Ridgewood on their beautifully manicured field, one I had played on in my high school and Connie Mack leagues. As game time approached, Rick Murray, our starting second basemen, an All-County selection in high school and a starter for Orsino at Fairleigh Dickinson, had not shown up. So Orsino penciled me in the starting lineup to play second base.
Guess who was pitching for Ridgewood that day? That’s right – none other than Jim Bouton.
Here, I need to commend Coach Orsino. When Murray, who had experienced car trouble, finally showed up around mid-game, Orsino left me in the lineup for the entire game. Murray was the better ballplayer, but on principle, Orsino left me in, not necessarily punishing Murray for being tardy, but sending a message to the team that players must be on time.
The first time I faced Bouton, he froze me with two off-speed pitches that may have been knuckleballs but acted like big breaking curveballs, both for strikes. So he threw it again. This time I managed to top the ball, sending a perfectly place swinging bunt in fair territory down the third base line. I was not the fastest guy in the world. Not slow, but not fast either. I ran as hard as I could, but Bouton got to the ball and threw to first to beat me by an eyelash. The ump made the right call … Out!
All I could think about was that I almost got a hit off Jim Bouton.
The next time up, I don’t remember if it was the first pitch, but it was early in the count, and Bouton threw a fastball. The funny thing was that his cap fell off as he threw, which was his trademark when he used to uncork his heater for the Yankees. At the same time he let the pitch go, he either grunted or groaned because he knew he had left his pitch high up in the strike zone.
I took advantage and lined the ball right back up the middle over his bare head. As the ball continued its flight over second base, I was beseeching it to drop, drop, drop before it could reach the centerfielder. The ball obliged, and I stood on first base with a hit against Jim Bouton!
The next time, I grounded one of his knuckle curves to the shortstop, who booted it, and I reached first base again. But on neither occasion did I score. Bouton beat us that day, I think, 2-1. I only had one play in the field, a popup that I handled.
When I got home, my parents, who were on a business/vacation trip in Europe, phoned. My dad, who had seen almost all my games since Little League, was thrilled when I described my hit against Bouton.
Bouton passed away in 2019 at age 80. Most will remember him for Ball Four, but I will remember the day Rick Murray didn’t show up.
________
Cover photo credit: “Yankee pitcher Jim Bouton loses his cap pitching against the Cardinals in Game 3 of the World Series at Yankee Stadium in New York on Oct. 10, 1964.” AP photo from the article Ball Four And The Forever Boys Of Summer by Jim Sullivan.
