In the latest chapter of the adventures of Dick Groat, All-America basketball star, National League batting champion and Most Valuable Player, we find Dick, at 32, as the key member of the St. Louis Cardinal infield. Now, just as Dick Groat is no ordinary hero, the Cardinal infield is no ordinary infield. Branch Rickey, that grand old man, recently called it "the greatest hitting infield I have ever seen." Mr. Rickey is very wise and he has seen a lot of infields, but he did not tell National League pitchers anything they had not already discovered for themselves. Three of the Cardinal infielders were voted to the League's lineup in the recent All-Star Game and the fourth member of the cast, Julian Javier, also got into the act when Pittsburgh's Bill Mazeroski was hurt. Ballots are not made public, but chances are that opposing pitchers, overjoyed at a chance to have the Card quartet at their backs instead of at their throats, represented a rather solid block of votes.
No wonder. Bill White, the first baseman, is hitting around .320. He is leading the league in hits and would be leading the league in runs batted in if Henry Aaron would go away. Groat, the shortstop, is also hitting about .320, just a couple of base hits behind White. Third Baseman Ken Boyer was bracketed with White and Groat until a recent slump dropped him to a flat .300. Javier, the second baseman, is hitting the least of the four, but his average is a healthy .270. As a group they had amassed 400 hits by mid-season, 100 more than any other National League infield. This combined assault has kept the Cardinals in the pennant race, along with the Giants, Reds and Cubs, just a few strides behind the league-leading Dodgers.
The better to dishearten an enemy pitcher, Manager Johnny Keane often sticks his four infielders at the top of the batting order. Javier, a right-handed batter, leads off. He is very fast and a dangerous runner when he gets on base. Groat and White alternate batting second and third. Groat, still the same deadly opposite-field hitter he was when he won the National League batting title in 1960, uses a log for a bat and merely slaps the ball wherever it is pitched. While Keane admires Groat's uncanny ability at performing the hit-and-run, he feels that Groat too often gives himself up to protect the runner. "He's too good a hitter to be sacrificing himself," says Keane.
White is big and fast. He can hit home runs—20 last year—and he can steal bases, as he did in the All-Star Game. He is the only one of the four who bats left-handed, and Busch Stadium, with its short right-field area, is an ideal park for him. Boyer, like White, has power and speed. An amazingly consistent hitter, in the last five seasons he has never driven in fewer than 90 runs or more than 98. The Cardinals claim Boyer is the league's most underrated player because he has had to play in the shadow of Stan Musial, but Boyer's shadow is big enough.
Boyer, White and Javier have been three-quarters of the Cardinal infield for three seasons, but until Groat joined the team this year the infield was never a unit. "They were a bunch of individuals until he came along," said a member of the San Francisco Giants recently. "Defensively they were loose. Now they're the best."
St. Louis had been looking for a shortstop for more than 10 years, ever since Marty Marion and his vast talents departed in 1950. Sometimes as many as eight different players were thrown into the breach in one season. Some were well-known—Alvin Dark, Red Schoendienst and Solly Hemus—but they were too old by then and better suited to other positions, like second base or the coaching box. Some were unknown—Gerry Buchek, Lee Tate and Bob Stephenson—and these continued to remain unknown. The last to try was Julio Gotay, who for several spring-training seasons was heralded as another Marion. "He was impossible," says a front office man now. "Whenever they wanted him to pinch-hit he was back in the locker room someplace. He was the butt of all the team jokes. You can't win a pennant with a shortstop like that."
Last winter Bing Devine, the Cardinal general manager, decided to put an end to the search. In a complicated series of trades involving Chicago and Pittsburgh, Devine landed Groat, hero of the 1960 pennant race, from the Pirates.
An unlikely-looking athlete, Dick Groat is bony, pale and solemn-faced. He speaks in the kind of low tones generally reserved for funerals, punctuating his sentences with polite "yes, sirs." Groat is bald except for some dark hair around the edges, a condition to which he has long since adjusted. "With two bald brothers and a bald father," he says, "I knew I was fighting a losing battle." And yet there are indications that he has not completely given up the fight. Recently someone approached Groat before a game. "Try that stuff I gave Shantz?" he asked. Groat nodded. "No good," he said.
Groat was the youngest of five children, having been born 11 years after the fourth. He grew up in Swissvale, Pa., and was a basketball and baseball star at Duke before signing with the Pirates in 1952. For nine seasons—he missed two years while in service—he was the shortstop of the Pirates, surviving the awful teams of the early '50s to lead Pittsburgh to its first pennant in 33 years.
When he is not playing baseball, Groat does a weekly radio show, makes an occasional banquet appearance and, in winter, returns home and works in the sales office of a Pittsburgh steel company. He also plays golf, a lot of it, and once in a while shoots a few baskets in the gym, just to keep the touch. It is a busy life. Recently he returned from a long road trip at 5 a.m. His three young daughters greeted him at breakfast, delighted to have their daddy home again, only to learn that he was leaving immediately for the All-Star Game in Cleveland. "I played with my girls all day not long ago," Groat said, "and I'm embarrassed to admit it's the first time I can remember doing it."