SI Vault
Almon is now a joy
Steve Wulf
September 28, 1981
Bill Almon's sweet season for Chicago is making his former teams look like nuts
Decrease font Decrease font
Enlarge font Enlarge font
September 28, 1981

Almon Is Now A Joy

Bill Almon's sweet season for Chicago is making his former teams look like nuts

View CoverRead All Articles View This Issue

Merry Christmas, said the Mets last December, we're releasing you. So Bill Almon, home for the holidays in Warwick, R.I., had a decision to make. He could go into his family's medical-supply business, make use of his B.A. from Brown by opening a sociology store, or give baseball one more try. In matters such as these, the whole Almon clan has its say, and on the Sunday after Christmas, Ted and Gloria, their sons Ted, Bob, Bill and John, their daughters Mary and Anne-Marie and all of the children's spouses gathered in mom's and pop's living room and talked things over. They sent Bill back to baseball with their blessings. "It's terrible to grow old saying, 'What if?' " says the elder Ted in explaining the decision.

Now there are no ifs, ands or buts about it. Almon, who plays for the Chicago White Sox, is the best shortstop in the American League this year. As of last Sunday he was the leader at his position in batting average (.309) and stolen bases (14) and was second to Milwaukee's Robin Yount in RBIs (39). And as if the White Sox don't quite believe it, he was still hitting ninth in the order. The long and lanky—6'3", 190 pounds—Almon also has fielded with the aggressive grace and consistency of a Marty Marionette. Eat your hearts out, Mets, Expos and Padres.

"There's no doubt we're more competitive this year," says Chicago Manager Tony LaRussa, "and there's no doubt that Bill's a major reason for that." Almon's teammates concur in that assessment. Last Friday night they were marking their ballots in a poll to name the season's outstanding players in the American League. The rules said they couldn't vote for fellow White Sox, and it killed them not to put Almon down twice—for shortstop and Comeback Player of the Year.

Such nice things used to be predicted for Almon. Back in 1971 he was approached by many big league teams interested in drafting him out of high school, but the family voted 7-1, with brother Ted the only dissenter, that Bill should go to college. Although San Diego picked him in the 10th round, he went to Brown, which had a baseball tradition that included only one major-leaguer of note, Irving (Bump) Hadley, who pitched for six different teams between 1926 and 1941.

After Almon set many school records and became an All-America his junior year, the Padres made him the No. 1 choice in the 1974 draft. The Almon family members also decided at the time that they wouldn't use an agent to negotiate the contract, as sort of a gesture against greed.

Almon was San Diego's shortstop of the future for three years. The future got a jolt in April of '76 when Almon was hit by a double-play throw from his first baseman on the Padres' Hawaii farm team, Joe Pepitone, as a runner was going into second. The ball deflected off the runner's shoulder and struck Almon in the face, knocking him unconscious. He went into convulsions and "swallowed" his tongue, and only the quick action of the opponent's trainer and two of his teammates saved his life. But Almon finished the season batting .291, and to this day he has never backed off as the middleman in a double play.

In 1977 Almon and Mike Champion were proclaimed San Diego's shortstop and second baseman for the next 10 years. To celebrate the occasion, the first thing the Padres did was change Almon's old upright batting style to a crouch. "They thought that because I was a shortstop, I should hit like a shortstop," says Almon. "Choke up, slap at the ball. I didn't argue. These were professionals and I was just out of college." Almon had a good year, batting .261, stealing 20 bases and leading the league in putouts and sacrifice hits.

The Padres, however, had another shortstop coming up—the brilliant Ozzie Smith. So the next spring Manager Alvin Dark made Almon a second baseman. He stayed there until Dark lost his job just before the season began and new manager Roger Craig moved Almon to third. However, Craig complained that Almon didn't hit like a third baseman—another example of baseball stupidity—and the next spring returned him to second as a reserve. Thereafter Almon was labeled a utility infielder and the label stuck. Champion, meanwhile, had disappeared from the majors.

In 1980 Almon was traded to the Expos along with Dan Briggs for Dave Cash. "The first day, Dick Williams called me into his office and told me the Expos had been trying to get me for two years," says Almon. "The next time he talked to me was July 1 when he said he wanted to send me down to Triple-A."

As a three-year man, Almon had the option of accepting the demotion or becoming a free agent, so he chose to shop his services around. He even hired an agent on a temporary basis. Cincinnati, Oakland, Seattle and San Francisco expressed interest, but Almon picked the lowly Mets because he thought he would have a better opportunity of playing for them. But his bad luck continued. He strained some tendons in his throwing hand and sprained his back. Nonetheless the Mets asked him to play hurt because their second baseman, Doug Flynn, had a broken wrist. "I agreed, even though I knew I was only 70%," Almon says. "At least I could give them 100% of my 70%, and I thought they understood." He batted only .170 for the Mets in 48 games.

Continue Story
1 2