The Pecan Park Eagle

So sad. Family found the body in the early afternoon of the same day. Once again, the talented and colorful young man who set the baseball world on its ear during his 1976 rookie season as a pitcher for the Detroit Tigers had left the scene too soon. Far too soon.

Selected in the 10th round of the 1974 amateur draft by the Detroit Tigers, Fidrych quickly found the roster of the big league club, winning 19, losing 9, and posting a 2.34 ERA to boot. More than games alone, Mark won the hearts and imagination of baseball fans everywhere by his fresh and unorthodox physical approach to the art of pitching. People thought he was talking to the baseballs as he prepared to throw them. It was actually an exercise in focus upon the job at hand. If he was speaking to anyone, Mark was actually speaking to himself along these lines: “Be here now fully in this moment. Give this pitch your very best shot. Visualize in you mind the outcome of this pitch as an easy out.” The young pitcher really subscribed to the belief that we cannot accomplish any goal we cannot actually see ourselves reaching. While he was meditating, a lot of people thought Mark Fidrych was simply being superstitious. They were wrong.

Fidrych did like to get down on the ground prior to games and hand prune tiny rocks and paper trash out of the soil before he worked. He also tended to abandon and mistreat baseballs that hitters converted into hits from his pitches. More than once, he asked umpires to take balls out of play that  had been struck for hits. He wanted the umpires to place these errant balls in the company of balls that knew how to behave as outs once they left a pitcher’s hand. So, there’s no denying that Mr. Fidrych came wrapped with his own flavor of special eccentricity.

The sad elements of the Mark Fidrych story are the things that took him out of baseball – and eventually out of life. In both instances, these things happened as Mark simply went about the business of  being himself.

Mark Fidrych got his "Bird" nickname from Big Bird himself!

Mark Fidrych’s future in baseball looked wide and deep as he went to spring training in the the spring of 1977. Unfortunately, while clowning around in the outfield, Mark tore some cartilage in his knee and was forced out of action for a short period. When he came back to work, he pitched fine, but about six weeks after his return, in a game against Baltimore, Mark said he suddenly just felt his right throwing arm simply “go dead.”

Mark had torn a rotator cuff, but it wasn’t diagnosed as such until 1985, eight years later, and five years beyond his forced retirement from baseball  at age 29 in 1980.

Mark Fidrych was only 10-10 over those last four post-injury seasons (1977-80) and he retired with very incomplete information about the cause of his lost skill and effectiveness. Still, he handled the end of his career well, but probably never fully appreciating the extent of the enthusiasm that his personal style had pumped back into the game. Baseball even gives Fidrych credit today for pumping several additional millions into the gate during his 1976 hay-day.

Then he goes out and gets killed by a sick truck that wasn’t  jacked up properly. What a waste.

Too bad Mark Fidrych couldn’t have hung around longer. In baseball. And in life.

When Bernard Malamud wrote about baseball phenom Roy Hobbs getting shot by a mysterious woman in black in his novel “The Natural,” he was doing what a lot of writers do for the sake of art. He was drawing from real life. Oh, there never was a real Roy Hobbs, just a lot of young guys who may have looked like him or Robert Redford on the field, but even they were all lost in a barrel with the one guy who really was him on the diamond, a fellow named Mickey Mantle, but even ladies man Mickey somehow always dodged the bullet. We likely will never know how close that guys like Mantle or Ruth ever came to suffering in reality the artful Hobbsian fate.

First baseman Eddie Waitkus of the Philadelphia Phillies and a disturbed young woman from Chicago named Ruth Ann Steinhagen were another story. On June 14, 1949, Waitkus and Steinhagen spent no more than five minutes of their lives together in a Chicago hotel room, but that shared time almost turned out to be the last five minutes in Eddie’s life – and definitely enough stuff to later make up a baseball story dream launcher for writer Malamud.

Here’s how it happened.

Ruth Ann Steinhagen grew up a troubled young girl In Chicago. In 1946, at age 16, she went to a Cubs game at Wrigley Field with her girl friend and the latter’s boy friend. She became fixated on Eddie Waitkus at this game. Waitkus was then the Cubs’ first baseman and he was having a pretty good year at the plate, but that didn’t really matter. Steinhagen thought he was cute.

Ruth Steinhagen started an intense scrapbook on Eddie Waitkus, documenting his every achievement and printed picture as religiously as later generations of young girls would similarly record and celebrate the lives of certain rock stars. Ruth still had major issues with her self esteem and was episodically involved in psychiatric therapy during her adolescence. She doesn’t appear to have ever experienced an actual relationship with any male as a boy friend during this early period of life.

When Eddie Waitkus was traded by the Cubs to the Phillies on December 14, 1948, Ruth Ann cried and said she didn’t want to live. She went through a very shaky period, but finally decided she needed to see Eddie Waitkus and let him know that she wanted to be his girl friend. It was a very psychotic idea. I rather doubt she shared it with anyone in any position to stop her back then. Even in 1948, it would have raised red flags among the psychiatrically trained. Even then, mental health experts knew that patients who are suicidal over psychotically perceived  losses are equally capable of turning around their self-destructive thoughts and converting them into thoughts of harming the perceived cause of loss and pain.

In this case, Eddie Waitkus was perceived as the one to blame for the pain of Ruth Ann Steinhagen. It was all Eddie’s fault, in her mind, and he didn’t even know the girl.

In May 1949, now 19 and an attractive young woman, Ruth Ann Steinhagen took out a two-day room reservation at the Edgewater Beach Hotel on Lake Shore Drive in Chicago, where Waitkus and the Phillies would also be staying during a series with the Cubs.

Ruth Ann also invited a friend, Helen Farazis, over to the hotel on her first night  there, June 13th. Ruth told Helen that she had a a gun and that her real intentions in being there were to shoot Eddie Waitkus. Helen did not believe Ruth Ann, nor did she tell anyone else about what seemed like a joking threat.

The next day day, June 14, 1949, Ruth Ann went to Wrigley Field and watched Eddie Waitkus and the Phillies beat up on the Cubs, 9-2. She then went back to her hotel room after the game and ordered three drinks from room service. When the bellboy arrived, she gave him five dollars and told him to take a written message to Eddie Waitkus. The note read as follows:

““It is extremely important that I see you as soon as possible.  We are not acquainted, but I have something of importance to speak to you about.  I think it would be to your advantage to let me explain this to you as I am leaving the hotel the day after tomorrow.  I realize this is out of the ordinary, but as I say, it is extremely important.”

Steinhagem signed the note “Ruth Ann Burns” and the bellboy left in the room that was shared by Waitkus with teammate Russ Meyer. (Here’s the story gets a little tricky, almost as though a Hollywood scriptwriter or Barnard Malamud had come up with the gimmick on a cup of coffee and five or six cigarettes!)

Meyer came  back to the room first. He found  the note inviting Waitkus to join Ruth in Room 1297. Meyer assumed the note was from a real girl friend of Eddie, a woman named Ruth Martin. When Waitkus then arrived, Meyer just told him that Ruth was waiting for him in Room 1297. Eddie went on up to the noted room, all the while thinking it was an invitation from his real friend.

When Eddie arrived at Room 1297, he asked for his friend, Ruth Martin. Ruth Ann Steinhagen simply introduced herself as a friend of Martin’s and explained that she had stepped out for a minute. She invited Eddie into the room for a short wait for Ruth Martin. Eddie suspected nothing and accepted. He stepped into the room and took a seat.

As Eddie was seating himself, Ruth Ann walked straight to the closet and pulled out a loaded .22 rifle. She took aim at Eddie Waitkus and pulled the trigger, hitting him once in the chest under the heart. As she did so, she yelled the most famous words ever expressed by most people in cases of relationship “love” violence: “If I can’t have you, nobody can!”

The bullet lodged in the muscles near the spine as Eddie Waitkus’s right lung collapsed. Ruth Ann Steinhagen then calmly called the front desk and told them that had just shot a man in Room 1297. Had she not placed the call immediately, it is likely that Eddie Waitkus would have bled to death.

Eddie Waitkus recovered physically and went on to highlight  his career as a member of the 1950 Phillies Whiz Kids champions, finishing in 1955 with a lifetime batting average of .285. Eddie passed away from cancer at age 53 on September 15, 1972.

Ruth Ann Steinhagen was found innocent by reason of  insanity and committed for psychiatric treatment of schizophrenia and therapy that included a long period of hospitalization and shock therapy. On April 17, 1952, less than three years after the shooting, Ruth Ann Steinhagen was declared sane and released.  The charge of assault with intent to kill was dropped. She and Eddie never saw each other again.

Years later, Eddie Waitkus looked back on his near fatal encounter with the psychotic Ms. Steinhagen and remarked, ““She had the coldest-looking face that I ever saw.”

You bet she did, Eddie. It was cold steel cold.

My grandfather was a small town newspaper man. He founded and ran the Beeville (TX) Bee back in 1886 until his death in 1913. When he started, he counted a lot upon readers sending in local news to fill in some column space, but he also never gave up his eye for the fact that anything that wasn’t timely wasn’t news.

Back in 1889, when Grandfather Will McCurdy was only 23, some readers in Port Lavaca sent him a write-up on their Christmas celebration. Trouble was, Grandfather Will received the story only two weeks prior to the following Easter Sunday. It led Grandfather to the obvious conclusion that “old new was not news.” All he could do was try to explain to his contributor/consumer readers why the article would not appear.

“The Bee is sad to report,” Will McCurdy wrote, “that the story of how Port Lavaca celebrated Christmas will not appear on the pages of our little weekly newspaper. Although we appreciate the effort, we need our contributors down in Port Lavaca to keep in mind this fact: The hoary hand of time has quite a different effect upon local news than it does upon wildcat whiskey. – Local news does not get better with age.”

With my grandfather’s advisory in my mind, I thought I’d better get about my intended business of writing a short story on the first 1950  Yankees-Phillies World Series before the current New York bullies make history out of the 2009 Phils. Down three games to one now, the Phillies face the tall order of needing to defeat the Yankees three games straight to fulfill their hopes for a second straight World Series crown. That isn’t likely now, especially with the last two games, if needed, coming in New York. Of course, if the Yankees win tonight in Philly, it’s all over.

In 1950, the New York Yankees and the Philadelphia Phillies met for the fist time in the World Series. Back then it was the Yankees seeking their second World Series win in a row and their 13th World Series victory in 17 total appearances. For the ’50 Phillies. it was then a search for their first World Series victory in only their second appearance in baseball’s big show. The 1915 Phillies lost their only previous World Series in five games to Babe Ruth and the Boston Red Sox.

Robin Roberts: One of Several Future Hall of Famets in the 1950 World Series.

In 1950, Eddie Sawyer was in his third season as manager of the Phillies. A guy named Casey Stengel was in his second full season as manager of the Yankees.

Because Roberts had pitched in three of the last five games of the regular season, he was unavailable for the Series opener on October 4th at Shibe Park in Philadelphia. Sawyer surprised the baseball world by starting 33-year old relief ace Jim Konstanty in the Series opener against Stengel’s choice, 31-year old ace right hander Vic Raschi (21-8, 4.00). Konstanty had appeared in 74 games in 1950, but only in relief, on his way to 22 saves in a tight-inning stopper role – and long before baseball ever used the term closer.

Game One: NY 1 – PHI 0 (Shibe Park, 10/04/50). Konstanty did OK, but Raschi did great, giving up only 2 singles in a 9-inning complete game pitching victory. Konstanty worked 8 innings, giving up the only run of the ball game in the top of the 4th. After Bobby Brown doubled to lead off the 4th, he moved to 3rd and then came home on flies by Hank Bauer and Gerry Coleman.

Yankees led the Series, 1-0.

Game Two: NY 2 – PHI 1 (Shibe Park, 10/05/50). 31-year old right handed Allie Reynolds (16-12, 3.74)  of the Yankees squared off against 24 year-pld  righty Robin Roberts (20-11, 3,02) of the Phillies. Both men each pitched complete games in a 10-inning contest that ultimately was decided by a solo shot homer off the bat of the great Joe DiMaggio.

Yankees led the Series, 2-0.

Game Three: NY 3 – PHI 2 (Yankee Stadium, 10/06/50. Please note too the absence of a travel day off as the 1950 world Series moved the short distance from Philadelphia to New York. Also note what you cannot see. All these games were played in the daytime –  and they were played during an era in which no one had even heard the phrase, pitch count). Game 3 shaped up as a battle between two lefty “wheez kids” as 35-year old Ken Heintzleman (3-9, 4.09) took the mound for Philadelphia against 32-year old Eddie Lopat (18-8, 3.47).  Old man Heintzleman did pretty well until late in the day. He had a 2-1 lead over Lopat and the Yankees, but he got into trouble after two outs in the bottom of the 8th by walking the next three batters he faced. The usually sure-handed shortstop Granny Hamner then booted a routine grounder off the bat of Bobby Brown to let the tying run score. The Yankees got no more, but Heintzleman was gone as the Phillies seemed to deflate over New York pulling into a 2-2 tie.

In the bottom of the ninth, and with reliever Russ Meyer now pitching for the Phils, Gene Woodling scored from 2nd base on a single by Gerry Coleman to end the game and put the death rattle on Philadelphia hope. Meyer took the loss for Philly; Tom Ferrick got the win in relief of Lopat.

Yankees led the Series, 3-0.

Game 4: NY 5 – PHI 2 (Yankee Stadium, 10/07/50). 24-year old right handed Bob Miller (11-6, 3.57) carried one last Phillies shot to the mound against 21-year Yankee rookie sensation lefty Whitey Ford (9-1, 2.81.) New York jumped Miller for two runs in the first, driving him from the mound after only one out in favor of Jim Konstanty. Mr. K. settled things down, but Mr. Ford blanked the Phils for most of the day. A home run by Yogi Berra and a triple by Bobby Brown in the 5th tallied three more NY runs, effectively icing the game at 5-0.   Ford ran into a little trouble in the 9th, giving up 2 runs that led to his removal with two outs in favor of Allie Reynolds. Reynold struck out Stan Lopata with two men on base to end the game and the Series.

Yankees won the 1950 World Series, 4 games to 0, over the Phillies.

If the Yankees also win the 2009 World Series, their overall record will be 27 World Series championships in 40 World Series appearances. If that becomes the case, the Phillies will drop to 2 World Series titles in 7 World Series tries.