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TWINS' BATTING WITH RUNNERS ON SECOND AND/OR THIRD
BASE
|
|
� |
1964
|
1965
|
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ALLISON
|
.243
|
.440
|
|
BATTEY
|
.320
|
.377
|
|
HALL
|
.217
|
.308
|
|
KILLEBREW
|
.235
|
.373
|
|
MINCHER
|
.184
|
.275
|
|
OLIVA
|
.364
|
.351
|
|
ROLLINS
|
.366
|
.191
|
|
VERSALLES
|
.297
|
.271
|
They finally are
beginning to believe in the Minnesota Twins in the Metropolises of the upper
Midwest. Small boys in Minnehaha and Bigfork wear sailor caps with "Win
Twins" on the brims, and just about the only sound heard in the cool of
evening in Fergus Falls, Bena, Wadena and Elbow Lake comes from thousands of
radios tuned in to hear whether Minnesota can win another impossible game. On
Interstate 494 in Bloomington, Webster's Restaurant is still a building, but
Webster has posted a firm promise in the front window: "Will be open for
World Series." Duff's bar in midtown Minneapolis is selling mock campaign
buttons in red, white and blue that say " Sam Mele for President" and
" Harmon Killebrew for Governor." You can walk into Duff's right now and
sign up for a bus ticket that will take you to Metropolitan Stadium, the home
of the Twins, for the opening game of the World Series October 6.
So maybe it is
only August. So maybe there are still six weeks before the American League
season ends. So maybe the Twins still must go through the toughest part of
their schedule, beginning this week. "So what?" they ask in Minnesota.
"This team does the impossible all the time. Why, this year they didn't
even Die in July, and the Twins always Die in July." More than 200 requests
a day are being mailed to Metropolitan Stadium begging for tickets to a World
Series that is still theoretical (or don't you remember the Phillies?) and
still a quarter of a season away.
This has been a
wild year in Minnesota. First came the dry cold and deep snows of winter, then
the floods of spring, then the tremendous tornadoes of May and June that caused
$131 million in property damage. Then came the great time squabble that had
Minneapolis on standard time and its twin city, St. Paul, on daylight saving
time. For most of the year a Minnesotan seemed to be a person with six feet of
snow in his driveway, three inches of water in his cellar, the roof blown off
his house and unable to find out what the hell time it was. But the Twins have
brought a certain wacky order to the Land of 10,000 Lakes. They played the best
baseball in the major leagues (22-9) in July and had more implausible escapes
from impending disaster than Adam Clayton Powell, more feats of derring-do than
most teams generate in half a dozen seasons. By the middle of August, despite
the worst sick-call list in the major leagues, the Twins had won 75 games—24 of
them on their last time at bat.
The late Bob
Murphy of the
Minneapolis Star once wrote of Twin fans, "Have you ever
noticed how they refer to the Twins as 'we' when they win and 'they' when they
lose?" This is a real "we" year in Minnesota. Usually the magic
number, that delightful piece of mathematical gobbledygook that indicates
how-many games a team must win or its opponents must lose before the
championship can be clinched, begins appearing in pennant-bound cities along
about the middle of September, when the number is, say, 15. Newspapers in the
Twin Cities brought it out on August 5, when the number was 52. At Duff's large
signs display it, and whenever the number is reduced applause fills the
room.
The madness seems
to have affected just about everyone in Minnesota, North and South Dakota,
western Wisconsin and northern Iowa. Recently Dr. Owen Wangensteen, a
well-known cancer surgeon from Minneapolis, went to the wedding of his
brother-in-law's son at the White Bear Yacht Club. He paid his respects in the
reception line and then raced to his car in the parking lot to listen to the
Twins on the radio. "It's the same wherever we go," sighed his wife.
"He has to know what the Twins are doing." Mrs. Wangensteen was asked
if her husband enjoyed the games at Metropolitan Stadium. "Oh, he's never
been," she replied. "But he never misses a game on the radio." Pat
Meehan, a grocery clerk in St. Paul, says, "Before the people order they
talk about the Twins. I've never seen or heard anything like it
before."
The Twins have
won many dramatic games this year with their new running attack—a style more
identified with the National League than the American. But the image of the
Twins generally remains that of a ball club with tremendous power and little
else. Even though Twin fans are delighted by the running game, appreciate it
and enjoy what it can do to harass the enemy, one game won on a home run stands
out as the greatest single victory of the season and possibly in the history of
the Twins. It came on Sunday, July 11 in Metropolitan Stadium, the last game
before the three-day All-Star break and the last game of a four-game series
with the hated Yankees. The four games drew 138,000 people, and the area was at
fever pitch over baseball, partly because Minnesota was about to be host to its
first All-Star game and partly because the Twins were leading the league by
four and a half games. Three seasons back, when the second-place Twins lost the
pennant to New York by five games, there had been a July series with the
Yankees in Minnesota. New York had swept it, and Minnesota had never really
recovered. This year the Twins won two of the first three games, but when
Harmon Killebrew came to bat in the bottom of the ninth inning of the last game
with two outs and a runner on first base Minnesota was losing 5-4.
Harmon Killebrew
has hit tons of homers for the Twins. Some have been measured at more than 500
feet in Washington and Boston, and some could be measured at $14 on a cab meter
in Chicago. This day in July the count went to three balls and two strikes on
Harmon, and then he fouled off two pitches. The next pitch he hit on a line 360
feet into the left-field bleachers to win the game. For an instant a strange
silence fell on the ball park, and then the crowd exploded. It was the most
dramatic home run ever hit by a Twin, and it made all Minnesota believe that
this was the year.
Everyone has a
theory about how and why Minnesota suddenly developed into a winner after
finishing in sixth place, 20 games behind, last season. Maybe the change began
during the winter, when Manager Sam Mele sat and thought about making the Twins
use a running game instead of waiting for home runs (SI, May 17). Perhaps it
came when Owner Calvin Griffith hired Johnny Sain as his pitching coach to try
to transform a pitching staff with good quality but little consistency into a
staff strong enough to stand the pressures of tight games. Maybe it had more
subtle origins; perhaps it began on a 40� night last April in Detroit when
Second-string Catcher Jerry Zimmerman came to bat with the winning run on base
after Minnesota had overcome a five-run deficit. In five seasons and 447 times
at bat in the major leagues Zimmerman had never driven in a game-winning run.
This time he did. Maybe it was the break the Twins got in the middle of May,
when they put Pitcher Jim Perry on the waiver list and no one claimed him. He
pitched only three and one-third innings during the first six weeks of the
season. Then late in May he won a game in Boston. He won again and then again.
He won seven straight games in all, at the very time when the Twin pitching
staff, beset by doubleheaders, seemed weakest. The luck has held. Joe Nossek,
primarily used for defense, won two games in three days for the Twins in June
with clutch hits, and Don Mincher, the part-time first baseman, has hit five
home runs that won games in the last or next-to-last inning. But no break that
Minnesota has received all year was as big as the one General Manager George
Weiss of the New York Mets inadvertently gave them at baseball's winter
meetings last December. Owner Griffith went to the meetings convinced that he
had to make a trade. "We played bad ball last year," Griffith said
then, "and our fans are screaming for a trade. I've got to try and give one
to them. A big one, if I can."
The Twins and the
Mets talked for two days and worked out the details of a spectacular trade.
Minnesota would give the Mets Center Fielder Jimmie Hall, Catcher Earl Battey,
Jim Perry and either Second Baseman Bernie Allen or Third Baseman Rich Rollins.
In return, the Twins would get the Mets' All-Star second baseman, Ron Hunt,
Catcher Chris Cannizzaro and Pitcher Alvin Jackson. The trade looked perfect
for both sides, because the Twins would get a solid starting pitcher and an
outstanding second baseman as well as a good defensive catcher who had hit .311
the year before. The Mets would receive a hard-hitting center fielder and a
fine all-round catcher as well as an infielder and a pitcher. At the last
minute Weiss called the whole thing off. Griffith did make a trade to show his
fans he was trying, but it was inconsequential: he acquired Second Baseman
Cesar Tovar from the Cincinnati Reds for Pitcher Gerry Arrigo.
The records that
the players involved in that aborted trade are setting this season are a
pluperfect demonstration of how beautifully things are going for Minnesota this
year. Jimmie Hall has been among the American League leaders in batting and
RBIs all year; Battey (.309) is one of the key men in the Twins' hit-and-run
attack; Perry's record is 8-3, and his earned run average is 2.40, ninth best
in the league. On the other hand, Hunt broke his shoulder in May, Cannizzaro
has knocked in five runs all season and Jackson has a record of 6-16.