"Ward was the key player," echoes Baltimore General Manager Lee MacPhail. "We hated to let him go." Son of one of the roughest hockey players of his day (Jim Ward, who played wing for the Montreal Maroons 25 years ago), young Peter is a swashbuckling chip off the old blockbuster. Four times so far he has been fined for violating rules or for basic indiscretions. He has trouble with plane schedules and umpires. And he can find any number of ways to maltreat a ground ball. But the White Sox won't care a bit if Ward just follows his minor-league hitting form. Last year he hit Triple-A pitching for a .328 average.
A great ploy for the Los Angeles Dodgers is to bring some agile young man to spring camp and tell him the second-base job is all his. Then when the dust has settled the job is not his at all. It is old Junior Gilliam's. But this year the Dodgers swear they have found the one. He is Nate Oliver, known as Pee Wee, a slight young rookie with tremendous speed (second only to Willie Davis on the varsity), good reflexes, a fine batting eye and a beautiful baritone voice—all necessary to make it big with the Dodgers. Junior Gilliam, look out.