A round up of the most outrageous group of malcontents, characters, rebels, nut jobs, reprobates, wing-nuts, wackos, space cadets, head cases, goofs, free thinkers, and oddballs who ever livened up the grand old game of baseball, this collection not only describes their most bizarre antics in often-hilarious detail, but also includes the unique thoughts of Bill “Spaceman” Lee, a man known for his colorful quotes and offbeat personality. Bill Lee was a good major-league pitcher before chronic arm problems did him in after 14 years. But whatever he accomplished on the field was overshadowed by his reputation as an eccentric, as a guy who revered the game but never took himself--or his teammates, coaches, and managers--too seriously. This is a laugh-out-loud collection of outrageous behavior, head-scratching logic, practical jokes, and great wit. For example, there's a tale involving drinking buddies Mickey Mantle and Billy Martin in which a mule was euthanized and two cows were categorized as collateral damage. Former Cubs manager Lee Elia's profanity-laced diatribe against Cubs fans and their employment status is transcribed here, as is Earl Weaver's not-for-public-consumption spoof of his own radio call-in show. Mix in an array of Yogi Berra's fractured aphorisms, Jay Johnstone's practical jokes, and even some weighty philosophical issues (Dan Quisenberry: "I've seen the future and it's much like the present, only longer"). Lee never had much of a fastball as a pitcher, but he writes a 95-smile-per-hour book. Wes Lukowsky Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved "[I thank God] for giving me a good right arm, a strong back and a weak mind." -Dizzy Dean at his Hall of Fame induction. CA Baseball Eccentrics The Most Entertaining, Outrageous, and Unforgettable Characters in the Game By Bill Lee, Jim Prime Triumph Books Copyright © 2007 Bill Lee and Jim Prime All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-1-57243-953-5 Contents Acknowledgments, Introduction: Presenting My Credentials, 1. Confessions of a Cunnythumber, 2. The Philosophers, 3. Ranters and Ravers, 4. Hotfoots and Hotdogs, 5. Misanthropes, Malaprops, and Magicians, 6. The Superstitious and the Bizarre, 7. Come Back to the Diamond, Dizzy Dean, Dizzy Dean, Sources, CHAPTER 1 Confessions of a Cunnythumber Pitchers are a large contributor to baseball's eccentricity. Depending on their effectiveness, or lack of same, they drive hitters to the edge of insanity or managers over the edge. They say that you have to lose your fastball if you want to learn to pitch. I was fortunate enough to not have much of one from the very beginning — and then I lost it completely. My mother called it a game only once. Both my parents tell the story in one voice. When you have been married 67 years, that is the only way to tell a tale. It was the summer of 1941, the halcyon days before Pearl Harbor. The date that would separate my parents for the better part of four years. My father was quietly fuming behind the wheel of the old Ford. He was trying not to show any emotion. He had gotten his pitch, he thought. But after toiling in the mound for nine innings in the late summer heat, his bat had slowed down. It was a 3–1 fastball right down the chute. He got under it and popped it up to right. (Twenty-seven years later, while leaving USC on my way to Waterloo, Iowa, of the now defunct Midwest League, I saw that my father had written on my glove, covering each finger: Throw strikes. Keep the ball down. Don't alibi. Hustle, hustle, hustle. His advice I now give to my sons Mike and Andy, and their sons, Hunter, Kazden, and Logan Lee.) Bill Lee Jr., my father, couldn't alibi. He had learned not to alibi from his father, Williams Francis I, who played for the Hollywood Stars on the Pacific Coast League. Besides, Ring Lardner had not written Alibi Ike yet, so no one was listening anyway. My grandfather used to cut the center of his glove so he could feel the ball better on his palm. He said it made his hands softer and quicker while he was turning the double play. No one got the ball quicker to first base. Not until the great "No Touch" Bill Mazeroski of the Pittsburgh Pirates. My grandfather's job, when he was not playing second base, was opening up new Gilmore Gas stations. Their symbol was the lion, and they had given him twin male lion cubs to raise. The lions lived in the backyard of his North Hollywood home. He had them for four years, in which time they traveled together up and down the California coast and had become inseparable. When Mobil Oil took over Gilmore Gas, they felt the lion promotion did not go with their logo, which was a flying horse — apparently lions eat flying horses when they land. My grandfather ended up taking the lions to the Griffith Park Zoo under the condition that he be allowed to visit any time he wished. On his first visit, the young lions came running, pressing up against the bars, purring and rollin