Curious career of current Pittsburgh broadcaster includes
stop in Charleston
Except for that awful summer at
Charleston's Watt Powell Park in 1974, Steve Blass' 53 years in the Pittsburgh
Pirates organization have been an absolute joy.
The Charleston Gazette
April 28, 2012
Manny Sanguillen #35 and Steve Blass #28 of the World Series Champion 1971
Pittsburgh Pirates salute the crowd after throwing out the first pitch before
the game against the Baltimore Orioles on June 21, 2011 at PNC Park in
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.
(
Jared Wickerham/Getty Images North
America)
Except for that awful summer at Charleston's Watt Powell Park in 1974, Steve
Blass' 53 years in the Pittsburgh Pirates organization have been an absolute
joy.
Beginning in 1968, he averaged 16 victories a year for five seasons and won two games in the 1971 World Series against the Orioles, including a complete-game victory in the seventh game.
Along the way, he played alongside three future Baseball Hall of Famers and now works as a radio-television commentator, a job that allows him to analyze, reminisce and, most important, stay close to baseball and his Pirates.
His beloved Pirates, however, found reason in 1974 to demote him to the Charleston Charlies, Pittsburgh's Class AAA affiliate in the International League in those days. He suddenly and mysteriously had lost his ability to throw strikes, a rare psychological flaw that can ruin a ballplayer's career.
Although healthy and still only 32 years old, he seemingly could no longer pitch.
"It just wasn't there. And to this day, I don't know what caused it,'' Blass said Friday night at Appalachian Power Park where he took part in Charlies Reunion Night. "It went away and never came back. But thank God it happened at the end of my career rather than at the beginning, because when the dust settles I lived every dream I had. I pitched in the big leagues, won a hundred games, pitched in the World Series and all-star games, played with three hall of famers [Roberto Clemente, Willie Stargell, Bill Mazeroski]. So my book is very balanced.''
In 1972, he enjoyed one of his best seasons, posting a 19-8 record and a 2.49 earned run average, but he lost his control in 1973. He went 3-9 that year and walked 84 batters in 88 innings. He led the National League by hitting 12 batters.
Things grew worse in '74 and, after walking seven in a five-inning stint with the Pirates, he accepted a demotion to Charleston.
As a Charlie, seeking to solve the problem, he tried all kinds of techniques in workouts. "I tried everything. You want 'em by number or alphabetically,'' he said with a laugh.
He pitched from second base and from a few feet in front of home plate. He watched video of himself. He experimented with different pitching motions. He not only struggled to throw strikes, but sometimes delivered throws behind the hitter or far out of the catcher's reach.
On occasion, he looked good or at least good enough to spark hope. He had a solid outing at Watt Powell Park one Sunday afternoon and another good one on the road at Syracuse, but his troubles always reappeared.
"Every once in a while, there was a flicker, but it never did sustain itself,'' said Blass. "It never did come back. I just wanted to pitch long enough and try everything so I wouldn't be 80 years old sitting on the back porch wondering if I had left any stone unturned. But it's all been good since then, and I've been able to sustain, and I've been able to keep broadcasting, so it's been a great ride.''
He finished his Charleston season with a 2-8 record and a 9.74 ERA with 103 walks in 61 innings. He hit 16 batters and threw 12 wild pitches.
His season with the Charlies presented an awkward situation - an established big-league veteran and former World Series hero thrust into baseball's backwaters, struggling to find the strike zone, playing with starry-eyed teammates 10 years his junior, attempting a comeback at Watt Powell Park where a crowd of a thousand was considered good.
He tried to make his fellow Charlies feel comfortable, but on one occasion his emotions spilled over - at least by Blass' light-hearted standards - on a hot, muggy Sunday afternoon at Watt Powell. After another disappointing performance and a quick exit, Blass returned to the dugout and felt his frustrations rise. His teammates knew enough to give him some space.
"It was like the sea parted,'' he recalled. "They were all sitting down there, and I was sitting by myself, and I said, 'Almost heaven, my ass.'"
He knew he had put his teammates in an uneasy situation.
"God bless 'em because they didn't know what to do with me,'' he said. "I had been in the big leagues for 10 years, and they didn't know how to act around me. So I tried to keep it as loose as I could, but every once in a while, there would be a situation where I was totally frustrated.''
The 1974 Charlies, incidentally, included Tony La Russa, a light-hitting middle infielder who seemingly had little future in the game.
Blass, 70, a Connecticut native who signed with the Pirates organization after graduating from high school in 1960, saw the city of Charleston in a different, more upbeat light during his Friday visit. He spent much of the afternoon and evening roaming the ballpark, signing autographs, visiting with fans and watching the Marshall-Southern Miss game. It was also a way of renewing his love for baseball.
"I met a lot of nice people here [in 1974],'' he said, "and I probably didn't have the appreciation for them then that I would have now. So I'm glad to come back under positive circumstances and see this beautiful ballpark. It's wonderful. I was out looking at it and sitting in the stands watching a college game. I think Marshall and Southern Miss were playing, and it reminded me of how much I love this game. I was out in the sunshine watching a bunch of gifted young men playing baseball. The game is so good. Every once in a while we don't give it enough credit, but it has sustained a lot of attacks on it and has come out on top. The game is that good.''
After that 1974 season in Charleston, he never pitched again professionally, although he made one final try in spring training of 1975 before announcing his retirement in March of that year, a month short of his 33rd birthday.
"I had an agreement with Danny Murtaugh the manager and Joe Brown the general manager. I said, 'Let's give it one more chance in spring training,''' he recalled. "And they were wonderful, they said you tell us when you've had enough. And I went to them and said, 'Danny, Joe, I've had enough. Uncle.'
"I was down there with my family, and it was one of the most emotional things I've done, saying goodbye to my teammates, because they as a group stood so tall for me. They really did. It was difficult, but on we go, and I had a chance to broadcast. It's been wonderful.''
Reach Mike Whiteford at mikewhitef...@wvgazette.com.
Beginning in 1968, he averaged 16 victories a year for five seasons and won two games in the 1971 World Series against the Orioles, including a complete-game victory in the seventh game.
Along the way, he played alongside three future Baseball Hall of Famers and now works as a radio-television commentator, a job that allows him to analyze, reminisce and, most important, stay close to baseball and his Pirates.
His beloved Pirates, however, found reason in 1974 to demote him to the Charleston Charlies, Pittsburgh's Class AAA affiliate in the International League in those days. He suddenly and mysteriously had lost his ability to throw strikes, a rare psychological flaw that can ruin a ballplayer's career.
Although healthy and still only 32 years old, he seemingly could no longer pitch.
"It just wasn't there. And to this day, I don't know what caused it,'' Blass said Friday night at Appalachian Power Park where he took part in Charlies Reunion Night. "It went away and never came back. But thank God it happened at the end of my career rather than at the beginning, because when the dust settles I lived every dream I had. I pitched in the big leagues, won a hundred games, pitched in the World Series and all-star games, played with three hall of famers [Roberto Clemente, Willie Stargell, Bill Mazeroski]. So my book is very balanced.''
In 1972, he enjoyed one of his best seasons, posting a 19-8 record and a 2.49 earned run average, but he lost his control in 1973. He went 3-9 that year and walked 84 batters in 88 innings. He led the National League by hitting 12 batters.
Things grew worse in '74 and, after walking seven in a five-inning stint with the Pirates, he accepted a demotion to Charleston.
As a Charlie, seeking to solve the problem, he tried all kinds of techniques in workouts. "I tried everything. You want 'em by number or alphabetically,'' he said with a laugh.
He pitched from second base and from a few feet in front of home plate. He watched video of himself. He experimented with different pitching motions. He not only struggled to throw strikes, but sometimes delivered throws behind the hitter or far out of the catcher's reach.
On occasion, he looked good or at least good enough to spark hope. He had a solid outing at Watt Powell Park one Sunday afternoon and another good one on the road at Syracuse, but his troubles always reappeared.
"Every once in a while, there was a flicker, but it never did sustain itself,'' said Blass. "It never did come back. I just wanted to pitch long enough and try everything so I wouldn't be 80 years old sitting on the back porch wondering if I had left any stone unturned. But it's all been good since then, and I've been able to sustain, and I've been able to keep broadcasting, so it's been a great ride.''
He finished his Charleston season with a 2-8 record and a 9.74 ERA with 103 walks in 61 innings. He hit 16 batters and threw 12 wild pitches.
His season with the Charlies presented an awkward situation - an established big-league veteran and former World Series hero thrust into baseball's backwaters, struggling to find the strike zone, playing with starry-eyed teammates 10 years his junior, attempting a comeback at Watt Powell Park where a crowd of a thousand was considered good.
He tried to make his fellow Charlies feel comfortable, but on one occasion his emotions spilled over - at least by Blass' light-hearted standards - on a hot, muggy Sunday afternoon at Watt Powell. After another disappointing performance and a quick exit, Blass returned to the dugout and felt his frustrations rise. His teammates knew enough to give him some space.
"It was like the sea parted,'' he recalled. "They were all sitting down there, and I was sitting by myself, and I said, 'Almost heaven, my ass.'"
He knew he had put his teammates in an uneasy situation.
"God bless 'em because they didn't know what to do with me,'' he said. "I had been in the big leagues for 10 years, and they didn't know how to act around me. So I tried to keep it as loose as I could, but every once in a while, there would be a situation where I was totally frustrated.''
The 1974 Charlies, incidentally, included Tony La Russa, a light-hitting middle infielder who seemingly had little future in the game.
Blass, 70, a Connecticut native who signed with the Pirates organization after graduating from high school in 1960, saw the city of Charleston in a different, more upbeat light during his Friday visit. He spent much of the afternoon and evening roaming the ballpark, signing autographs, visiting with fans and watching the Marshall-Southern Miss game. It was also a way of renewing his love for baseball.
"I met a lot of nice people here [in 1974],'' he said, "and I probably didn't have the appreciation for them then that I would have now. So I'm glad to come back under positive circumstances and see this beautiful ballpark. It's wonderful. I was out looking at it and sitting in the stands watching a college game. I think Marshall and Southern Miss were playing, and it reminded me of how much I love this game. I was out in the sunshine watching a bunch of gifted young men playing baseball. The game is so good. Every once in a while we don't give it enough credit, but it has sustained a lot of attacks on it and has come out on top. The game is that good.''
After that 1974 season in Charleston, he never pitched again professionally, although he made one final try in spring training of 1975 before announcing his retirement in March of that year, a month short of his 33rd birthday.
"I had an agreement with Danny Murtaugh the manager and Joe Brown the general manager. I said, 'Let's give it one more chance in spring training,''' he recalled. "And they were wonderful, they said you tell us when you've had enough. And I went to them and said, 'Danny, Joe, I've had enough. Uncle.'
"I was down there with my family, and it was one of the most emotional things I've done, saying goodbye to my teammates, because they as a group stood so tall for me. They really did. It was difficult, but on we go, and I had a chance to broadcast. It's been wonderful.''
Reach Mike Whiteford at mikewhitef...@wvgazette.com.
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It's
been a Pirates life for Blass
Curious career of current Pittsburgh broadcaster includes stop in
Charleston
Except for that awful summer at Charleston's Watt Powell Park in 1974, Steve
Blass' 53 years in the Pittsburgh Pirates organization have been an absolute
joy.
Beginning in 1968, he averaged 16 victories a year for five seasons and won two games in the 1971 World Series against the Orioles, including a complete-game victory in the seventh game.
Along the way, he played alongside three future Baseball Hall of Famers and now works as a radio-television commentator, a job that allows him to analyze, reminisce and, most important, stay close to baseball and his Pirates.
His beloved Pirates, however, found reason in 1974 to demote him to the Charleston Charlies, Pittsburgh's Class AAA affiliate in the International League in those days. He suddenly and mysteriously had lost his ability to throw strikes, a rare psychological flaw that can ruin a ballplayer's career.
Although healthy and still only 32 years old, he seemingly could no longer pitch.
"It just wasn't there. And to this day, I don't know what caused it,'' Blass said Friday night at Appalachian Power Park where he took part in Charlies Reunion Night. "It went away and never came back. But thank God it happened at the end of my career rather than at the beginning, because when the dust settles I lived every dream I had. I pitched in the big leagues, won a hundred games, pitched in the World Series and all-star games, played with three hall of famers [Roberto Clemente, Willie Stargell, Bill Mazeroski]. So my book is very balanced.''
In 1972, he enjoyed one of his best seasons, posting a 19-8 record and a 2.49 earned run average, but he lost his control in 1973. He went 3-9 that year and walked 84 batters in 88 innings. He led the National League by hitting 12 batters.
Things grew worse in '74 and, after walking seven in a five-inning stint with the Pirates, he accepted a demotion to Charleston.
As a Charlie, seeking to solve the problem, he tried all kinds of techniques in workouts. "I tried everything. You want 'em by number or alphabetically,'' he said with a laugh.
He pitched from second base and from a few feet in front of home plate. He watched video of himself. He experimented with different pitching motions. He not only struggled to throw strikes, but sometimes delivered throws behind the hitter or far out of the catcher's reach.
On occasion, he looked good or at least good enough to spark hope. He had a solid outing at Watt Powell Park one Sunday afternoon and another good one on the road at Syracuse, but his troubles always reappeared.
"Every once in a while, there was a flicker, but it never did sustain itself,'' said Blass. "It never did come back. I just wanted to pitch long enough and try everything so I wouldn't be 80 years old sitting on the back porch wondering if I had left any stone unturned. But it's all been good since then, and I've been able to sustain, and I've been able to keep broadcasting, so it's been a great ride.''
He finished his Charleston season with a 2-8 record and a 9.74 ERA with 103 walks in 61 innings. He hit 16 batters and threw 12 wild pitches.
Beginning in 1968, he averaged 16 victories a year for five seasons and won two games in the 1971 World Series against the Orioles, including a complete-game victory in the seventh game.
Along the way, he played alongside three future Baseball Hall of Famers and now works as a radio-television commentator, a job that allows him to analyze, reminisce and, most important, stay close to baseball and his Pirates.
His beloved Pirates, however, found reason in 1974 to demote him to the Charleston Charlies, Pittsburgh's Class AAA affiliate in the International League in those days. He suddenly and mysteriously had lost his ability to throw strikes, a rare psychological flaw that can ruin a ballplayer's career.
Although healthy and still only 32 years old, he seemingly could no longer pitch.
"It just wasn't there. And to this day, I don't know what caused it,'' Blass said Friday night at Appalachian Power Park where he took part in Charlies Reunion Night. "It went away and never came back. But thank God it happened at the end of my career rather than at the beginning, because when the dust settles I lived every dream I had. I pitched in the big leagues, won a hundred games, pitched in the World Series and all-star games, played with three hall of famers [Roberto Clemente, Willie Stargell, Bill Mazeroski]. So my book is very balanced.''
In 1972, he enjoyed one of his best seasons, posting a 19-8 record and a 2.49 earned run average, but he lost his control in 1973. He went 3-9 that year and walked 84 batters in 88 innings. He led the National League by hitting 12 batters.
Things grew worse in '74 and, after walking seven in a five-inning stint with the Pirates, he accepted a demotion to Charleston.
As a Charlie, seeking to solve the problem, he tried all kinds of techniques in workouts. "I tried everything. You want 'em by number or alphabetically,'' he said with a laugh.
He pitched from second base and from a few feet in front of home plate. He watched video of himself. He experimented with different pitching motions. He not only struggled to throw strikes, but sometimes delivered throws behind the hitter or far out of the catcher's reach.
On occasion, he looked good or at least good enough to spark hope. He had a solid outing at Watt Powell Park one Sunday afternoon and another good one on the road at Syracuse, but his troubles always reappeared.
"Every once in a while, there was a flicker, but it never did sustain itself,'' said Blass. "It never did come back. I just wanted to pitch long enough and try everything so I wouldn't be 80 years old sitting on the back porch wondering if I had left any stone unturned. But it's all been good since then, and I've been able to sustain, and I've been able to keep broadcasting, so it's been a great ride.''
He finished his Charleston season with a 2-8 record and a 9.74 ERA with 103 walks in 61 innings. He hit 16 batters and threw 12 wild pitches.
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Except for that awful summer
at Charleston's Watt Powell Park in 1974, Steve Blass' 53 years in the
Pittsburgh Pirates organization have been an absolute joy.
Beginning in 1968, he averaged 16 victories a year for five seasons and won
two games in the 1971 World Series against the Orioles, including a
complete-game victory in the seventh game.
Along the way, he played alongside three future Baseball Hall of Famers and now works as a radio-television commentator, a job that allows him to analyze, reminisce and, most important, stay close to baseball and his Pirates.
His beloved Pirates, however, found reason in 1974 to demote him to the Charleston Charlies, Pittsburgh's Class AAA affiliate in the International League in those days. He suddenly and mysteriously had lost his ability to throw strikes, a rare psychological flaw that can ruin a ballplayer's career.
Although healthy and still only 32 years old, he seemingly could no longer pitch.
"It just wasn't there. And to this day, I don't know what caused it,'' Blass said Friday night at Appalachian Power Park where he took part in Charlies Reunion Night. "It went away and never came back. But thank God it happened at the end of my career rather than at the beginning, because when the dust settles I lived every dream I had. I pitched in the big leagues, won a hundred games, pitched in the World Series and all-star games, played with three hall of famers [Roberto Clemente, Willie Stargell, Bill Mazeroski]. So my book is very balanced.''
In 1972, he enjoyed one of his best seasons, posting a 19-8 record and a 2.49 earned run average, but he lost his control in 1973. He went 3-9 that year and walked 84 batters in 88 innings. He led the National League by hitting 12 batters.
Things grew worse in '74 and, after walking seven in a five-inning stint with the Pirates, he accepted a demotion to Charleston.
As a Charlie, seeking to solve the problem, he tried all kinds of techniques in workouts. "I tried everything. You want 'em by number or alphabetically,'' he said with a laugh.
He pitched from second base and from a few feet in front of home plate. He watched video of himself. He experimented with different pitching motions. He not only struggled to throw strikes, but sometimes delivered throws behind the hitter or far out of the catcher's reach.
On occasion, he looked good or at least good enough to spark hope. He had a solid outing at Watt Powell Park one Sunday afternoon and another good one on the road at Syracuse, but his troubles always reappeared.
"Every once in a while, there was a flicker, but it never did sustain itself,'' said Blass. "It never did come back. I just wanted to pitch long enough and try everything so I wouldn't be 80 years old sitting on the back porch wondering if I had left any stone unturned. But it's all been good since then, and I've been able to sustain, and I've been able to keep broadcasting, so it's been a great ride.''
He finished his Charleston season with a 2-8 record and a 9.74 ERA with 103 walks in 61 innings. He hit 16 batters and threw 12 wild pitches.
His season with the Charlies presented an awkward situation - an established big-league veteran and former World Series hero thrust into baseball's backwaters, struggling to find the strike zone, playing with starry-eyed teammates 10 years his junior, attempting a comeback at Watt Powell Park where a crowd of a thousand was considered good.
He tried to make his fellow Charlies feel comfortable, but on one occasion his emotions spilled over - at least by Blass' light-hearted standards - on a hot, muggy Sunday afternoon at Watt Powell. After another disappointing performance and a quick exit, Blass returned to the dugout and felt his frustrations rise. His teammates knew enough to give him some space.
"It was like the sea parted,'' he recalled. "They were all sitting down there, and I was sitting by myself, and I said, 'Almost heaven, my ass.'"
He knew he had put his teammates in an uneasy situation.
"God bless 'em because they didn't know what to do with me,'' he said. "I had been in the big leagues for 10 years, and they didn't know how to act around me. So I tried to keep it as loose as I could, but every once in a while, there would be a situation where I was totally frustrated.''
The 1974 Charlies, incidentally, included Tony La Russa, a light-hitting middle infielder who seemingly had little future in the game.
Blass, 70, a Connecticut native who signed with the Pirates organization after graduating from high school in 1960, saw the city of Charleston in a different, more upbeat light during his Friday visit. He spent much of the afternoon and evening roaming the ballpark, signing autographs, visiting with fans and watching the Marshall-Southern Miss game. It was also a way of renewing his love for baseball.
"I met a lot of nice people here [in 1974],'' he said, "and I probably didn't have the appreciation for them then that I would have now. So I'm glad to come back under positive circumstances and see this beautiful ballpark. It's wonderful. I was out looking at it and sitting in the stands watching a college game. I think Marshall and Southern Miss were playing, and it reminded me of how much I love this game. I was out in the sunshine watching a bunch of gifted young men playing baseball. The game is so good. Every once in a while we don't give it enough credit, but it has sustained a lot of attacks on it and has come out on top. The game is that good.''
After that 1974 season in Charleston, he never pitched again professionally, although he made one final try in spring training of 1975 before announcing his retirement in March of that year, a month short of his 33rd birthday.
"I had an agreement with Danny Murtaugh the manager and Joe Brown the general manager. I said, 'Let's give it one more chance in spring training,''' he recalled. "And they were wonderful, they said you tell us when you've had enough. And I went to them and said, 'Danny, Joe, I've had enough. Uncle.'
"I was down there with my family, and it was one of the most emotional things I've done, saying goodbye to my teammates, because they as a group stood so tall for me. They really did. It was difficult, but on we go, and I had a chance to broadcast. It's been wonderful.''
Reach Mike Whiteford at mikewhitef...@wvgazette.com.
Along the way, he played alongside three future Baseball Hall of Famers and now works as a radio-television commentator, a job that allows him to analyze, reminisce and, most important, stay close to baseball and his Pirates.
His beloved Pirates, however, found reason in 1974 to demote him to the Charleston Charlies, Pittsburgh's Class AAA affiliate in the International League in those days. He suddenly and mysteriously had lost his ability to throw strikes, a rare psychological flaw that can ruin a ballplayer's career.
Although healthy and still only 32 years old, he seemingly could no longer pitch.
"It just wasn't there. And to this day, I don't know what caused it,'' Blass said Friday night at Appalachian Power Park where he took part in Charlies Reunion Night. "It went away and never came back. But thank God it happened at the end of my career rather than at the beginning, because when the dust settles I lived every dream I had. I pitched in the big leagues, won a hundred games, pitched in the World Series and all-star games, played with three hall of famers [Roberto Clemente, Willie Stargell, Bill Mazeroski]. So my book is very balanced.''
In 1972, he enjoyed one of his best seasons, posting a 19-8 record and a 2.49 earned run average, but he lost his control in 1973. He went 3-9 that year and walked 84 batters in 88 innings. He led the National League by hitting 12 batters.
Things grew worse in '74 and, after walking seven in a five-inning stint with the Pirates, he accepted a demotion to Charleston.
As a Charlie, seeking to solve the problem, he tried all kinds of techniques in workouts. "I tried everything. You want 'em by number or alphabetically,'' he said with a laugh.
He pitched from second base and from a few feet in front of home plate. He watched video of himself. He experimented with different pitching motions. He not only struggled to throw strikes, but sometimes delivered throws behind the hitter or far out of the catcher's reach.
On occasion, he looked good or at least good enough to spark hope. He had a solid outing at Watt Powell Park one Sunday afternoon and another good one on the road at Syracuse, but his troubles always reappeared.
"Every once in a while, there was a flicker, but it never did sustain itself,'' said Blass. "It never did come back. I just wanted to pitch long enough and try everything so I wouldn't be 80 years old sitting on the back porch wondering if I had left any stone unturned. But it's all been good since then, and I've been able to sustain, and I've been able to keep broadcasting, so it's been a great ride.''
He finished his Charleston season with a 2-8 record and a 9.74 ERA with 103 walks in 61 innings. He hit 16 batters and threw 12 wild pitches.
His season with the Charlies presented an awkward situation - an established big-league veteran and former World Series hero thrust into baseball's backwaters, struggling to find the strike zone, playing with starry-eyed teammates 10 years his junior, attempting a comeback at Watt Powell Park where a crowd of a thousand was considered good.
He tried to make his fellow Charlies feel comfortable, but on one occasion his emotions spilled over - at least by Blass' light-hearted standards - on a hot, muggy Sunday afternoon at Watt Powell. After another disappointing performance and a quick exit, Blass returned to the dugout and felt his frustrations rise. His teammates knew enough to give him some space.
"It was like the sea parted,'' he recalled. "They were all sitting down there, and I was sitting by myself, and I said, 'Almost heaven, my ass.'"
He knew he had put his teammates in an uneasy situation.
"God bless 'em because they didn't know what to do with me,'' he said. "I had been in the big leagues for 10 years, and they didn't know how to act around me. So I tried to keep it as loose as I could, but every once in a while, there would be a situation where I was totally frustrated.''
The 1974 Charlies, incidentally, included Tony La Russa, a light-hitting middle infielder who seemingly had little future in the game.
Blass, 70, a Connecticut native who signed with the Pirates organization after graduating from high school in 1960, saw the city of Charleston in a different, more upbeat light during his Friday visit. He spent much of the afternoon and evening roaming the ballpark, signing autographs, visiting with fans and watching the Marshall-Southern Miss game. It was also a way of renewing his love for baseball.
"I met a lot of nice people here [in 1974],'' he said, "and I probably didn't have the appreciation for them then that I would have now. So I'm glad to come back under positive circumstances and see this beautiful ballpark. It's wonderful. I was out looking at it and sitting in the stands watching a college game. I think Marshall and Southern Miss were playing, and it reminded me of how much I love this game. I was out in the sunshine watching a bunch of gifted young men playing baseball. The game is so good. Every once in a while we don't give it enough credit, but it has sustained a lot of attacks on it and has come out on top. The game is that good.''
After that 1974 season in Charleston, he never pitched again professionally, although he made one final try in spring training of 1975 before announcing his retirement in March of that year, a month short of his 33rd birthday.
"I had an agreement with Danny Murtaugh the manager and Joe Brown the general manager. I said, 'Let's give it one more chance in spring training,''' he recalled. "And they were wonderful, they said you tell us when you've had enough. And I went to them and said, 'Danny, Joe, I've had enough. Uncle.'
"I was down there with my family, and it was one of the most emotional things I've done, saying goodbye to my teammates, because they as a group stood so tall for me. They really did. It was difficult, but on we go, and I had a chance to broadcast. It's been wonderful.''
Reach Mike Whiteford at mikewhitef...@wvgazette.com.
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