Yankee4Life

7 out of 10, 55 seconds. Satisfied 100% with today. The three I missed today I had no business knowing the right answer to like what is the name of the stadium a soccer team plays in.

Wilbur Wood Arguably the best left-handed knuckleball pitcher in major-league history, Wilbur Wood’s 19-year professional baseball career may be best described as a case study in patience, resiliency, and determination. Signing as a highly touted fastball-curveball pitching prospect in 1960, Wood failed five times (three times with the Boston Red Sox and twice with the Pittsburgh Pirates) to land a spot in the big leagues. Given his second outright option, in 1966, he toiled in the minor leagues and was purchased by the Chicago White Sox. Under the tutelage of future Hall of Famer Hoyt Wilhelm, Wood transformed himself into knuckleballer and enjoyed unimaginable success. After a three-year period (1968-1970) as baseball’s most durable reliever, Wood entered the starting rotation and racked up statistics reminiscent of Deadball Era pitchers during a four-year period from 1971 to 1974 winning a big-league best 90 games and averaging almost 350 innings per year. Wilbur Forrester Wood was born on October 22, 1941 in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Growing up in Belmont, on the northwest side of greater Boston in Middlesex County, Wilbur and his younger brother Jimmy played sports year-round –from football to hockey to baseball as the seasons changed. Employed in the wholesale food business, Wilbur Sr., was a former semipro shortstop and taught the left-handed Wilbur to throw a knuckleball when he was in junior high, though it wasn’t until years later that the pitch became his son’s trademark. At Belmont High School, Wilbur was an all-around athlete, leading his football team as a quarterback, anchoring the hockey team as a defenseman, and starring as a pitcher on the baseball team. A self-described fastball-curveball pitcher, Wilbur compiled a 24-2 record, including four no-hitters, in his high-school career, and led his team to the state championship as a junior in 1959. He also won 42 games for coach Joe Dwyer while playing for Post 99 in the local American Legion league. “There were about 50 colleges after Wilbur for a variety of sports,” recalled Bill Stone, Wilbur’s high-school baseball coach. Wood wanted to play professional baseball and drew interest from a number of teams, including the Cardinals, the hometown Red Sox, and Braves who flew him to Milwaukee for a tryout. “He was a chubby little guy who didn’t throw very hard. I watched him throw batting practice (and) couldn’t get very excited,” said Roland Hemond, the Braves’ farm director at the time and later Wood’s boss as general manager of the White Sox. “I wanted to play for the Red Sox, but at that point I wanted the club that offered me the most amount of bonus money,” Wood said candidly. With Ted Williams’ impending retirement, the Red Sox were on a downward spiral at the time, in search for a new identity. Hoping to capitalize on the media coverage of the “local boy makes good story,” team owner Tom Yawkey authorized scout Neil Mahoney to offer Wood a bonus variously reported from $25,000 to $50,000. Wood signed in 1960 shortly before graduating from high school. With great local media coverage, the 18-year-old Wood reported to the Class D Waterloo (Iowa) Hawks in the Midwestern League. After just four appearances he was reassigned to the Raleigh (North Carolina) Capitals in the Class B Carolina League where he posted a 3-5 record and 3.84 ERA in 77 1/3 innings. Added to the Red Sox’ 40-man roster at the conclusion of the season, Wood participated in his first big-league spring training, in Scottsdale, Arizona, the following spring. After Wood struck out the side against the Giants in his debut, the Boston Globe prematurely predicted immediate “spectacular success” for the prospect. Optioned to the Winston-Salem (North Carolina) Red Sox in the Class B Carolina League at the end of spring training in 1961, Wood won eight of 13 decisions before being promoted to the parent club in mid-June to spark fan interest for a floundering team struggling at the gate (drawing just over 10,000 a game). Debuting in Fenway Park on June 30, Wood pitched the final four frames in a 10-2 loss to the Cleveland Indians, surrendering three hits and two runs while striking out three. Wood appeared in five more games as a reliever before being optioned to the Johnstown (Pennsylvania) Red Sox in the Class A Eastern League where he struggled winning just three of ten decisions. After a successful season with the York (Pennsylvania) White Roses in the single-A Eastern League in 1962 (15-11 and a 2.84 ERA in a league-high 219 innings), Wood arrived at his third consecutive spring training in 1963 with a chance to make the team. Among the last cut, he was optioned to the Seattle Rainiers, where he was the hottest pitcher in the Pacific Coast League, winning five of seven decisions and posting a 1.12 ERA, thus earning his second midseason call-up to the Red Sox. “My bread and butter pitch is my curve,” said Wood who explained that he occasionally used a knuckler to upset and trick a batter. However, major-league batters were not tricked by his curve and fastball, and pummeled him for 39 hits in just 28 innings in his first six starts. With a 0-4 record and 5.49 ERA, Wood was demoted to the bullpen where he posted a 2.45 ERA over 36 2/3 innings during the remainder of the season. “The little sonofagun just couldn’t throw hard enough,” said Boston manager Johnny Pesky. “But he wanted to pitch and tried his hardest.” Down to his last option, 1964 was a make-or-break year for Wood. “This ballpark (Fenway) hurts this lefthander,” said pitching coach Bob Turley ominously. Clobbered for 11 runs in just 5 2/3 innings in four relief appearances, Wood’s dream to play for his hometown team came to a dramatic close when he was given his outright release to the Seattle Rainiers in mid-May. Astonishingly, he turned his season around by going 15-8 in the P.C.L. and was named to the all-star team. On September 6, the Pittsburgh Pirates purchased his contract and promoted him to the parent club. Still in search of his first big-league win after six career losses, Wood concluded the season with a heartbreaking loss to the Milwaukee Braves on October 2 by walking Woody Woodward with bases full with two out in the tenth inning to lose a complete game, 3-2. Wood was buried deep in Pirates’ bullpen for the entire 1965 season. Soft-spoken and amiable, Wood did not get along with brash manager, Harry “the Hat” Walker, who used Wood almost exclusively in mop-up situations (the Bucs lost in 30 of Wood’s 34 appearances). Even though Wood pitched respectably (1-1 and a 3.16 ERA in 51 1/3 innings) the previous season, he was cut mid-way through spring training in 1966 and was released outright to the Columbus Jets of the International League. “In the major leagues, my fast ball just wasn’t that good,” said Wood years later. “So naturally I threw curve after curve and they knew what was coming.” Having failed five times to make it in the major leagues, Wood was at a crossroads in his career. “He was very discouraged,” said wife Sandy after Wood was cut. “I think he might have gone into the plumbing business with my father.” Just 24 years old, but in his sixth year of professional baseball, Wood rallied with the hitherto best year of his career at arguably the most crucial point. Named the I.L.’s most outstanding pitcher, Wood posted a 14-8 record and led the league in innings (224), complete games (15), shutouts (8), and ERA (2.41 among pitchers with at least 20 starts). Based on team scout George Maltzberger’s glowing report, general manager Ed Short of the pitching-rich White Sox, fresh off a league-best 2.68 team ERA, acquired Wood at the end of the season (and later sent the Pirates Juan Pizarro to complete the transaction). Wood arrived at the White Sox spring training in Sarasota, Florida, with his career in jeopardy. “[Manager] Stanky told me that there was no starting job for me and also I couldn’t be a short relief man,” said Wood. Despite the news, he was not discouraged. “I knew had to make up my mind one way or the other. It was getting to the point in my career where I either make it or go home.” But Wood had a stroke of luck. He landed on the one team with perhaps the only person who could help him: 44-year-old knuckleballer Hoyt Wilhelm. Wilhelm and Wood began throwing the knuckler to each other at spring training, careful not to injure one another. Finally, Wilhelm convinced Wood, “You either throw the knuckleball all of the time or not at all. It’s not an extra pitch.” Though he had thrown the knuckler for close to 20 years, Wood lacked confidence in it and couldn’t control it well. The master-teacher Wilhelm taught Wood the intricacies and mysteries of the dastardly pitch. First, Wilhelm helped with his delivery. “I had a tendency to drop down with my arm when I threw the knuckler. Hoyt has me throwing it strictly overhand. [The knuckleball] breaks down more consistently,” Wood explained. Wood had already mastered the grip (with the tips of his fingers), so Wilhelm helped refine the follow-throw of his wrist. “[Wilhelm] has me throwing the knuckler more with a stiff wrist and with the hand up. If you twist your wrist either way, the ball will rotate and you won’t get a good break.” Wood’s transformation into a knuckleball pitcher paid immediate dividends. In 26 relief appearances in the first half of the season, Wood posted a microscopic 1.51 ERA. With starters Jim O’Toole injured and John Buzhardt pitching inconsistently, Wood was given a spot start in July and held the Kansas City Athletics to seven hits over 8 1/3 innings to win his first game as a starter. Wood parlayed his success into seven additional starts in the ensuing five weeks and won four of them. Working out of the bullpen for the rest of the season, Wood was an integral contributor during the White Sox pennant race, pitching 11 times in the fateful last month of the season. Finishing with a 2.45 ERA over 51 appearances and 95 1/3 innings, Wood commented, “I probably wouldn’t have paid as much attention to the knuckler if I thought I might wind up as a starter.” Firmly established as one of the team’s most important relievers, Wood began camp in 1968 with a sense of confidence and relaxation he never had before. He continued to work with Wilhelm to refine his knuckleball and make adjustments when the ball was flat or hung. Wood credited pitching coach Marv Grissom for helping him alter his wind-up. “I used a full wind-up at the start of [the 1967] season. Then in midseason, I went to a half-windup. In spring training this year,” Wood said, “Grissom talked me into not using my wind-up at all.” Getting rid of the windup had two immensely important effects: it made his occasional fastball and curve more effective because they were even less anticipated without a wind-up. Secondly, it gave Wood one of the best, if not the best pickoff move to first base in all of baseball. Wood’s confidence in his knuckler was boosted by his trust in his catchers, Duane Josephson and Jerry McNertney whose experience catching the pitch resulted in few passed balls. Over the course of the next three seasons (1968-70), Wood established himself as the most durable and one of the best relievers in baseball on dismal White Sox teams that were collectively 104 games under .500. During this era, relievers’ roles were not as defined as they are in today’s game. Teams often had multiple “closers” (though the word was not commonplace at the time) and relievers were expected to be able to pitch multiple innings and serve as general “firemen,” ready to quell any rally. When Bob Locker, who often finished games, experienced problems in May 1968, manager Stanky replaced him with Wood, thereby giving him even more opportunities to pitch. Wood responded by pitching in a major-league record 88 games (broken the followed year when Wayne Granger pitched in 90 for the Reds). He posted a microscopic 1.87 ERA in 159 innings and his 13 wins led the team. In an era before the save was an official statistic, Wood paced the team with 16 (Wilhelm had 12 and Locker 10). White Sox beat reporter, Jerome Holtzman called Wood’s rise from relative obscurity to stardom “sensational” and The Sporting News named him the A.L. Fireman of the Year. “He’s an amazing pitcher,” said Stanky, who was fired in midseason. Wood’s success and rubber-arm gave rise to the discussion that he might become the first hurler to pitch in 100 games in a season. Though he didn’t approach that prediction, his 1969 and 1970 seasons are remarkable similar. He again led the American League in appearances in both seasons (76 and 77) giving him a total of 241 in three years. He logged 119 2/3 and 121 2/3 innings while posting earned run averages of 3.01 and 2.81. “I owe Hoyt an awful lot,” said the ever-humble Wood who was always ready to give others credit for his success. “I wouldn’t be in the major leagues, if I hadn’t been for Hoyt and the help he gave me with the knuckleball.” Able to stay mentally focused despite playing for weak-hitting and poor-pitching teams, Wood often pitched when the game was tied or with the White Sox behind; consequently, his record during these years (13-12, 10-11, and 9-13) may not seem spectacular. He readily and often admitted that the knuckleball was less physically stressful on his arm, but noted it didn’t make pitching easy. Wood had an unflappable and serious mound presence, and was not easily distracted. “I’m nervous every time I go out there,” Wood said. “It’s a thrill – and a challenge. If you are not exciting when you come in, you’re lost. But I don’t lose my concentration because of a hit or a wild pitch.” This attitude was especially helpful in 1970 when Chicago lost a franchise-record 106 games. When Chuck Tanner took over for the last 16 games of that season, Wood’s career was changed forever. The White Sox had a dismal staff in 1970 and ranked last in the A.L. with a 4.54 team ERA; Tommy John (12-17, 3.27), Gerry Janeski (10-17, 4.77), and Joe Horlen (6-16, 4.86) were the only pitchers to make at least 20 starts. Tanner hired the outspoken, yet innovative Johnny Sain as pitching coach. Sain had worked wonders with several staffs in the 1960s (Yankees, Twins, and Tigers) but his unorthodox methods frustrated managers and team brass. During the offseason, Tanner announced his plan to make the 29-year-old Wood a starting pitcher even though success in the rotation had eluded him thus far in his career. GM Roland Hemond had other plans for Wood. He wanted to rebuild the White Sox with youth. Even before camp broke, he offered Wood to the California Angels in a package deal to acquire young pitchers Dave LaRoche and Lloyd Allen. “They turned us down,” said Hemond. “If Wilbur had gone there, or anywhere else, he might not have ever become a starting pitcher.” When Horlen went down with a broken leg just days before the season opened, Wood’s fate as a starter was sealed. Pure knuckleball starting pitchers are a rare breed in the major leagues and successful ones are even rarer. In 2012, the Mets’ R.A. Dickey became the first one ever to win a Cy Young Award. Wood joined the Braves’ Phil Niekro and his younger brother Joe Niekro as the majors’ only knuckleball starters (the Dodgers’ Charlie Hough was pitching from the bullpen at the time). After a slow April (no decisions in three starts), Wood got on track in May, winning three times, including his first career shutout on May 22 when he blanked the Angels on six hits, winning 13-0. Whereas most staffs at the time consisted of four-man rotations with pitchers pitching on three days rest, Sain approached Tanner to discuss the possibility of Wood pitching regularly on short rest. Tanner agreed and so did Wood. On June 30, he pitched a complete game to defeat the Brewers, 8-3, on two days rest. With shutouts in two of in next three starts, Wood improved his record to 9-5 and lowered his ERA to 1.69 before the All-Star break. Sain was not surprised by Wood’s success. “I guess they always said, ‘Poor Wilbur, he just doesn’t have enough natural ability to pitch in the big leagues,’” said Sain. “What they call natural ability is standing six-four and being able to throw a ball 100 miles per hour. Well, it turns out that he has as much God-given ability as any man I’ve ever met. He can throw the knuckleball [and] it requires [a] natural feel.” Relishing in his new role as a modern pitching ironman, Wood enjoyed phenomenal success with his new routine of pitching twice per week (alternating between two- and three-days’ rest). With nine starts in August and September, Wood concluded the season with complete games in seven of his last eight starts, including three shutouts. In his last start of the season, he struck out a career-high 10 (achieved four times) to defeat the Brewers, 2-1, for his 22nd victory of the season. In 23 second-half starts, he won 13 of 21 decisions, logged 185 innings, including 15 complete games and four shutouts. Even more impressive were his results on two days rest for the season: 11 complete games in 15 starts and an 8-4 record with a 2.10 ERA. “I feel no difference, physically or mentally, between two and three days of rest,” said Wood about his workload. “Everybody thinks I should be more tired, but I am not.” Wood finished second in the AL in innings (334), ERA (1.91), shutouts (7), third in wins (22), and struck out a career-high 210. Great numbers, to be sure, but how good? Advanced sabrmetric statistical analysis may help. Based on Wood’s WAR for pitchers (11.5), his season was one of the best in major-league history after 1920, exceeded only by Roger Clemens (11.6 in 1997), Steve Carlton (11.7 in 1972), and Dwight Gooden (11.9 in 1985). Wood’s success brought him national attention as a throw-back to another era. Described as “affable, genuine and popular,” Wood certainly did not cut an imposing figure on the mound with his 6-foot, 180-pound frame. Media reports often described him portly, roly-poly, round, or rotund; award-winning writer Peter Gammons thought Wood could pass as a plumber or even a beer-taster in a brewery. White Sox beat reporter Edgar Munzel wrote in The Sporting News, “There isn’t anyone in the major leagues . . . who looks less like a ballplayer. He’s a chubby, pot-bellied guy with thinning blond hair, blue eyes, and a pleasant round face.” For the remainder of his career, Wood was dogged by these unflattering physical descriptions, along with suggestions that throwing a knuckleball was somehow less demanding than a fastball, all of which gave the impression that Wood’s success was the result of a fluke pitch and that he didn’t need to work hard or be fit to pitch. Scoffing at such notions, manager Tanner once offered a different perspective: “He’s a stubborn competitor and has ability and courage to go with it.” Always quick to point out that great pitching is even more difficult than hitting, Sain suggested that Wood’s success rested as much on his mental preparation as on his physical abilities, “Wilbur has tremendous poise. He has the perfect temperament [and] never gets rattled.” With his strong Boston accent, Wood was a player’s player who liked to joke with teammates. In a four-year span from 1971 to 1974, Wood pitched more than anyone since the Deadball Era, and his statistics appear as though from a video-game. He won at least 20 games each season, leading the A.L. with 24 wins in 1972 and 1973, and his 90 wins were the most in baseball, two more than Catfish Hunter. He logged 1,390 innings, averaging 348 per year. In 1972, a season shortened by the players’ strike (the White Sox played 154 games), Wood logged 376 2/3 innings, 2/3-inning more than Mickey Lolich the previous season, and the most in the AL since Chicago’s Ed Walsh’s 393 in 1912; and he started 49 times, tying Walsh’s mark in 1908, and the most in the A.L. since Jack Chesbro’s 51 for the Yankees in 1904. With the ability to start so frequently, sportswriters predicted that Wood would win 30 games. Despite his accomplishments, Wood is typically overlooked as one of the best pitchers from his era, in favor of Jim Palmer, Tom Seaver, Nolan Ryan, Steve Carlton, Catfish Hunter, and Gaylord Perry, to name just six. Wood never had his moments on the big stage. He was named to the A.L. All-Star team three times (1971, 1972, and 1974), but pitched only once, a two-inning outing surrendering two hits and one run in 1972. The White Sox’ record during those years (just one winning season) contributes to the lack of attention, as does Wood’s relatively short career as a starter (and thus fewer career wins) in comparison to the afore mentioned. Wood also lost a major-league high 69 times during this stretch and in 1973 became the first pitcher since Walter Johnson in 1916 to win and lose at least 20 games in one season. Wood’s knuckleball was slower (and thus easier to catch) than Phil Niekro’s or Hoyt Wilhelm’s. Wood’s success depended on his delivery. “You must push it,” he said, “but then you must break your wrist in a downward motion. When you throw a knuckleball properly, it makes one and one-half revolutions when traveling to the plate.” He held the ball with his thumb, ring finger and pinky in the same position as he did with a fastball, but his fingers did not touch the seams. If the ball rotated more than planned, the knuckler appeared as an easy-to-hit hanging curve. The pitch bewildered and aggravated batters. “I see the ball floating up and then I swing,” said the A’s Gene Tenace. “I get a feeling that the bat has made a ripple in the air and has caused the ball to wriggle.” Paul Blair was impressed with Wood’s uncanny control, “What makes [Wood] more effective is that he throws it over for strikes. It never goes the same way, but it is always in the strike zone.” Wood’s durability compensated for his lack of overpowering pitches. Once Wood demonstrated he could pitch effectively on two days’ rest the media wondered when Wood would pitch in both games of a doubleheader which had not been done since Don Newcombe shut out the Phillies in game one and then hurled another seven innings in game two, giving up just two runs in a no-decision, on September 6, 1950. Wood came close on May 28, 1973 when he pitched the final five innings of a suspended game, yielding two hits and one run (none earned) to defeat the Cleveland Indians in Comiskey Park. He then shut out the Indians on four hits the same day. Wood got his unexpected chance on July 20, 1973 at Yankee Stadium. He was chased in the first game without registering an out, clobbered for four hits and six runs. Tanner gave him a shot in the second game, but Wood pitched dismally, surrendering five hits and seven runs in 4 1/3 innings and was tagged for the loss in both games. Without a no-hitter or one-hitter in his career, Wood tossed three career two-hitters. Coincidentally, two of them were 11-inning efforts. The latter, a 1-0 victory over the Tigers on May 7, 1974 was arguably Wood’s best performance in his career; it was also one three games that season (and five in his career) in which he pitched at least ten innings, including a career-high 13-inning, complete-game loss to the Royals on May 25. Gradually losing some effectiveness by 1975, Wood won 16 and lost a league-high 20, while his ERA rose to 4.11 in 291 1/3 innings; however, he led the A.L. in games started for the fourth consecutive season and had moments of baffling dominance. His last two-hitter (a shutout against the Tigers) was bookended by a three-hit shutout and a four-hit complete game victory during a three-start stretch in July. Bill Veeck’s purchase of the White Sox in December of 1975 inaugurated a new era for the team. Wood blanked the Royals on six hits to win the Season Opener and started six of the team’s first 14 games. In his seventh start, on May 9, Wood’s career took a sudden and expected turn. With two outs in the sixth inning, the Tigers’ Ron LeFlore hit a bullet back to the mound and shattered Wood’s left knee cap. “I never saw the ball,” Wood said later. The hit ended Wood’s season (he had won four of seven decisions and posted a stellar 2.24 ERA), and he was never the same thereafter. Two years later he was out of baseball. The final two years of Wood’s career were as disappointing as they were frustrating. Wood was made available in the AL expansion draft in 1976, but with his recovery uncertain and high salary (in excess of $100,000), he was not chosen. The perpetually cash-strapped Veeck tried to deal him, but there were no takers. As fate would have it, the 1977 White Sox team, aptly named the “Southside Hitmen” for their home-run hitting prowess, was the best team Wood ever played on; unfortunately, he was a shell of his former self, winning just seven times in 15 decisions, while posting a 4.99 ERA in 122 2/3 innings. “I was a little gun-shy,” Wood said about his return. “I didn’t want the ball coming back over the middle again.” Wood returned in 1978, but with a 10-10 record and 5.20 ERA in 168 innings, was put on waivers in late August. Claimed by the Pirates and Brewers, Wood decided to remain with the White Sox, opting for free agency at the conclusion of the season. Unsigned in the offseason and not drafted in the supplemental draft for reentering free agents, in February 1979, Wood’s career came to an unglamorous close with ill feelings toward management. “I just couldn’t do what I could do before I got hurt. That took the fun out of it.” Wood finished his 17-year major-league career with a 164-156 record and a 3.24 ERA 2,684 innings. He also won 64 games in his six years in the minor leagues. Wood’s career, from local phenom and five-time bust with the Red Sox and Pirates, to star reliever then starting pitcher for the White Sox, underscored his passion for the game and willingness to change and learn. But it was also a reminder that players sometimes need a little luck, fate if you will, to be in the right place at the right time to succeed.

9 out of 10, 44 seconds. Figures I had to miss on a Houston question. I don't care about them.

3 out of 10, 92 seconds. Two Rugby questions. What the hell?

10 out of 10, 46 seconds. I needed this because you-know-what comes tomorrow. 😄

10 out of 10, 33 seconds. What the heck, I'll take it especially after the past few days.

6 out of 10, 75 seconds. Bad combination today with an awful score and pitiful time. But these questions were harder than normal and my luck was even worse when I was given a baseball card question too.

10 out of 10, 36 seconds. Not bad for Friday but not good enough for you jackrabbits today.

5 out of 10, 43 seconds. I consider that a good score considering I guessed right three times. Thank God Friday is tomorrow.

8 out of 10, 78 seconds. That is a very big improvement from yesterday and I needed it.

Yes sir mcoll! 👍

2 out of 10, 45 seconds. I can't be too upset since it's only Tuesday.

9 out of 10, 48 seconds. This is the second time in a matter of days that one question got away from me. Now on to terrible Tuesday.

10 out of 10, 35 seconds. Considering that I had to go back to the first question because I did not click on it I did ok today.

9 out of 10, 48 seconds. There's always one that seems to elude you when you think you are having a good game. 😮

What did I tell you? Good going Jim!

10 out of 10, 33 seconds. Not bad but a couple of you will probably pass it.

9 out of 10, 57 seconds. I don't get it either but I'll take it.

9 out of 10, 72 seconds. i guessed on two of them and luckily I got both right.

7 out of 10, 49 seconds. I got a soccer question right today!

Muddy Ruel From playing in the schoolyards and sandlots of St. Louis to scoring the winning run in Game Seven of the World Series; from wearing the “tools of ignorance” to holding the title of general manager; from to being a short, skinny, 19-year-old rookie to being special assistant to the Commissioner of Baseball, Muddy Ruel wore many hats in the game of baseball. Ruel, in fact, spent almost his entire life connected to the game in some fashion. And though his name is one that is probably not that familiar to many younger fans of the game, at one time, “Muddy” essentially was a household name. Herold Dominic “Muddy” Ruel was born February 20, 1896, in St. Louis, Missouri. The origin of the nickname “Muddy” has more than one explanation. One story is that the young Herold came into his house covered in mud after playing outside. At which point, his father looked at him and said, “Well, there’s Muddy.” Another version attributes the moniker to Ruel having mud splattered on his face from catching a thrown ball that was made of mud. Yet, another version indicates that the name originated with Ruel’s use of a “dirty” tongue in an attempt to psyche out opposing hitters. It is most likely that one of the first two stories is closest to the accurate origin of the nickname. Other stories suggested that Ruel never used language that was any courser than “rogue” or “dag-gum it.” Muddy played both basketball and baseball at Soldan High School in St. Louis, though baseball was his strongest sport. However, during his senior year a small scandal broke that Ruel and three other high school players (including pitcher Holland Chalfant, Ruel’s battery mate with Soldan High and the Wabadas) were no longer eligible to play as amateurs for their respective high school baseball teams. The contention was the Ruel and the other players had received remuneration for their time with the Wabadas (named for the street, Wabada Avenue, on which the team’s ballfield was located) and other ”semipro” teams on the sandlots of St. Louis. On one occasion while playing for the Wabadas, a certain number of spectators at the game took up a small collection and presented the young Ruel with the purse for hitting a home run to win the game for the Wabadas. John B. Sheridan used his position at the St. Louis Globe-Democrat to lobby for Ruel’s cause but the city school officials and the principals of high schools involved ruled against the young players and thus Ruel and the three other players were forced off their high school teams. Ruel spent the summer toiling behind the plate for the Wabadas. The team played very well through the summer, in fact, the team did not lose a game until the Fourth of July. The Wabadas copped the Trolley League flag. Ruel and Chalfant formed a star battery that carried the team for the bulk of the season. In October, the Wabadas played the Alpen Braus in a best-two-out-of-three-game championship series with theTrolley League title in the balance. The games were held at Sportsman’s Park (home of the St. Louis Browns). The Wabadas won the first two games and thus ended the series as champs. In November 1914, on the heels of the Wabadas’ win of the Trolley League title, Ruel was signed by Branch Rickey, on the recommendation of local bird dog Charley Barrett, to play for the St. Louis Browns. The Sporting Life summed up Ruel’s talent as “the best semi-professional backstop in this section” and he “throws well, receives nicely and is regarded as a good hitter.” By today’s standards, perhaps it is hard to imagine that a man who was only 5’9” tall and 150 pounds would last nearly 20 years as a big-league catcher. Ruel’s measurements likely would place him as a middle infielder, not a backstop. Ruel went to spring training in Texas with the Browns in 1915 where he made a very favorable impression on the players young and old with the second stringers throughout the spring. One article conveyed this point. On the way back to St. Louis from the spring training locale in Texas, the team was playing an exhibition game in Kansas. During one of the games, Ruel was struck on the hand by a foul ball. The ball split open his finger and Ruel had to receive some minor medical attention on the field for the injured digit – during which time the entire team of yannigans gathered round the rookie catcher and fretted over his injury. Ruel eventually earned a spot with the Browns and made his major-league debut with the Browns late in May. Early in the summer Ruel split his time between the Browns and the semipro Missouri State Life team in St. Louis. But by July, and for the rest of the season, Ruel was traveling full-time with the Browns as the third-string catcher behind Hank Severeid and Sam Agnew. And, like many men young receiving a big-league paycheck, Ruel used his earnings to purchase a new car. Ruel spent the next two seasons in the minors (1916 and 1917) with the Memphis Chickasaws (Chicks) of the Southern Association. As was the case with other young men of age at the time of World War I, Ruel was drafted. He was inducted into the Army in 1918 for a stint that lasted less than a year. While in the service Ruel played on the baseball team at Camp Pike along with fellow St. Louisan, Ray Schmandt. Ruel spent the remainder of the 1918 season and all of 1919 and 1920 with the New York Yankees. The Yankees were not yet the powerhouse they would later become. Babe Ruth was still with Boston and the Yankees had yet to appear in a World Series. On August 16, 1920, Ruel was a witness to one of the most tragic events in baseball history. Ruel was behind the plate when Carl Mays’ fateful pitch struck and killed Ray Chapman. Later in the season, Ruel described the tragic event in detail to his old friend John B. Sheridan, who used Ruel’s insights for his column in The Sporting News. He made it clear in his eye-witness account that Carl Mays was not guilty of trying to kill Chapman. Ruel’s assessment was that it was a tragic accident. In December 1920, Ruel was part of an eight-player trade with the Red Sox. Ruel, along with Del Pratt, Sammy Vick, and Hank Thormahlen went to Boston in exchange for Waite Hoyt, Harry Harper, Wally Schang, and Mike McNally. Ruel stayed in Boston for two seasons, 1921 and 1922. During the months of the offseasons, Ruel attended law school at Washington University (St. Louis). He passed the Missouri state bar examination in January 1923. When asked of his reasoning for working toward a law degree, Ruel said in simple practicality, “I want to have a profession to fall back on when I am through with baseball.” In 1923 Ruel began his first season with the Washington Senators during the Senators’ finest period. In 136 games for the Nats, Ruel batted .316 with 54 RBI and 24 doubles. His fielding percentage was .980 in 133 games behind the plate. Connie Mack, the elder statesman of the Philadelphia Athletics and himself a former big-league catcher, paid high praise to Ruel’s ability behind the plate in 1923. Mack said, “Ruel is the best catcher in either major league this year. . . . He has handled his pitchers in fine style and has been a terror at the bat. . . . he is tireless, the type of catcher that makes every player on his club perk up. Ruel . . . is easily the best catcher of the year in every department of play.” Ruel was essentially the everyday catcher for the back-to-back pennant-winning Senators in 1924 and 1925, appearing in 149 games in 1924 and 127 games in 1925. In the 1924 World Series, the Senators met the mighty New York Giants. Despite going hitless in every at bat in the series until Game Seven, Muddy Ruel caught every game of the series. Bucky Harris, the young player/manager of the Senators, liked his chances with Ruel behind the plate despite Ruel’s poor performance at the plate. Harris’ faith in Ruel’s ability paid big dividends when Ruel eventually scored the winning run that gave the Senators their one and only World Series title. In the bottom of the 12th, the game tied 3-3, the Series was on the line with every at-bat. Ralph Miller led off for Washington and made the first out. Up next was Ruel. Muddy had been hitless the entire series until he connected for a single in the eighth. Ruel popped a foul ball up behind home plate. Hank Gowdy tossed his mask aside and followed the flight of the ball. It should have been an easy out but Gowdy stepped in his face mask and stumbled, dropping the ball. “Like a sinner forgiven,” as he himself later described it, Ruel had another chance at the plate. On the very next pitch, Muddy smacked a double. The next batter was Walter Johnson, who had been called into the game as a reliever in the bottom of the ninth. Johnson connected for a single but Ruel was unable to advance on the hit. Centerfielder Earl McNeely was next. He hit a sharp grounder to Freddie Lindstrom, the Giants’ third sacker, tried to field the ball but it hit a pebble and bounded over Lindstrom’s head. Ruel, who was not known for his speed on the base paths, was able to score from all the way from second and, at long last, the nation’s capital went wild with its first World Series’ title. An article in the The Sporting News highlighted the fact that Ruel received a little long distance advice from his old friend John B. Sheridan prior to Game Seven. Sheridan, who was back in St. Louis and unable to attend the World Series in person, sent a telegram to Muddy with a little advice on his approach at the plate: “Probably swinging too late; pick only good ones, step in close.” As history unfolded in the Series finale, the advice seemed to work. In Ruel’s own words after clinching the Series, with his boyish excitement coming through: “Don’t tell me the breaks of the game don’t either make you or break you. If Gowdy had caught my foul—an easy one—in the twelfth, I’d never have gotten a change to double and later bring in the winning run. But he did, and I did, and that’s why we’re champs. Hot doggie.” Through the years, Ruel marked this day as his greatest day in baseball. Scoring the winning run in extra innings in Game Seven of the World Series does make for a fond memory. Almost as soon as the Series was over, Ruel left for a tour of Europe with a team of American League barnstormers traveling with and competing against a team of National Leaguers headed by John McGraw, the manager of the recently-vanquished Giants. In 1925 the Senators were back in the Fall Classic but this time the glory went to their opponents, the Pittsburgh Pirates. The Series again went a full seven games and Muddy Ruel again caught in all seven contests. On September 30, 1927, Ruel was again present for one of baseball’s famous historic moments. Ruel was the catcher for the Senators in the eighth inning when Babe Ruth hit his 60th home run of the season. In December 1930, Ruel was dealt by the Senators to the Boston Red Sox. In August 1931, the Red Sox traded Ruel to Detroit. Ruel was signed by the Browns in December 1932 and spent the 1933 season back home in St. Louis with the Browns. The Browns released Ruel after the season and then Ruel was picked up by the Chicago White Sox to play in a reserve capacity and serve as a pitching coach. In 1935 Ruel began working as the pitching coach for Jimmy Dykes and the Chicago White Sox. Ruel held this post for more than a decade, through 1945, occasionally getting the opportunity to manage the club when Dykes was absent from the dugout for being ejected from a game or for health reasons. On November 3, 1945, it was announced that Ruel would be leaving the coaching ranks effective December 15, 1945, in order to put his law degree to work by serving as the special assistant to the new Commissioner of Baseball, A.B. “Happy” Chandler. One newspaper quoted Ruel on his new job, “It is very gratifying to me to receive the appointment . . . and I’m sure everything will work out for the general benefit of baseball.” Given an opportunity to use his law skills, Ruel took the post of special assistant to Commissioner A.B. “Happy” Chandler in 1945 and 1946. During this tenure in the Commissioner’s office, Ruel extensively traveled around the country on “the knife and fork circuit” to promote the sport of baseball and proclaim the benefits of boys playing baseball to encourage physical activity. In September 1946, Ruel was hired away from the Commissioner’s office to be the manager of the St. Louis Browns. Ruel signed a two-year contract to manage the Browns for 1947 and 1948. Unfortunately, the act of returning to his hometown was not kind to Ruel. The Browns struggled all season and spent almost the entire season in the American League cellar. The season began with a fair amount of optimism with many writers predicting the team could finish in the first division. Happy Chandler, the commissioner of baseball, was present for opening day for the Browns at Sportsman’s Park to wish his former employee well in his new endeavor as a big league skipper. Unfortunately, Hal Newhouser and the Tigers spoiled the fun, winning easily, 7-0. By July the team had fallen into the cellar and attendance was very low. The front office sought a way to breathe life into the team and sell more tickets. The Browns’ vice-president and general manager was William O. DeWitt. He was once a young protégé of Branch Rickey when Rickey was still in St. Louis. Rickey plucked DeWitt from the concessions workforce and made him an office boy and set the young DeWitt on a career path toward the upper echelons of the front office. After watching the large crowds turning out to watch Jackie Robinson and the Brooklyn Dodgers visit Sportsman’s Park to play the tenant Cardinals, the Browns’ front office began to understand the economic benefits of integration. DeWitt sent the Browns’ chief scout, Jack Fournier, to seek talent in the Negro Leagues. After observing the Kansas City Monarchs and Birmingham Black Barons, Fournier made his recommendations to DeWitt. And so, the last-place Browns became the third major league team to integrate. On July 17, the Browns purchased a 30-day option on Lorenzo “Piper” Davis of the Black Barons and Chuck Harmon was signed to a minor-league contract and sent to Gloversville-Johnstown, New York, in the Browns farm system. The Browns also signed Henry Thompson and Willard Brown to contracts and in the process became the first team to have more than one African-American on the same roster. Needless to say, while the Browns were making big news in the world of baseball, the team was quickly unraveling, making Ruel’s job more stressful. Now Ruel found himself not only trying to right a sinking ship, he was now asked to integrate his workforce while some of the crew sought seats in the lifeboats. One player in particular, Paul Lehner, a promising young outfielder from Alabama, went to the front office demanding a pay raise or his release from the team. Ruel coaxed the young Lehner into staying with the team. But three days after the signing of Thompson and Brown, Lehner showed up late to the ballpark for the afternoon game with the Red Sox. The reason given for Lehner’s tardiness was that he had injured his leg in the previous day’s game. Ultimately, Lehner entered the game in the late innings as a pinch hitter. The Browns fined Lehner for his behavior and when Lehner saw his next paycheck he was less than thrilled. Meanwhile, Thompson and Brown were attempting to earn a spot on the team and make good in their opportunity in the American League. Thompson played second base regularly during the absence of Johnny Berardino who was out with a broken hand. Brown, however, did not see much playing time and was used mostly as a pinch hitter. Unfortunately for Brown, his batting average likely suffered from not seeing American League pitching on a daily basis. Sam Lacy, a prominent sportswriter in the African-American press and future inductee of the baseball Hall of Fame, interviewed Muddy Ruel a couple of weeks into the Browns’ experiment with integration. Lacy wrote that it was “refreshing” to see firsthand that Ruel was giving Brown and Thompson every opportunity to prove themselves as ballplayers, not as black ballplayers. Ruel told Lacy that he was watching Brown and Thompson “just as I watch every man on the team.” Ruel further stated that Brown and Thompson were “no different than Vern Stephens with me,” referring to one of the Browns’ best players. Lacy walked away from this interview feeling Ruel never hinted at the fact that Lacy was interested in Brown and Thompson because of their race. Lacy added, “. . . each time he spoke of Brown or Thompson, it was as though either or both were just two new men—not two COLORED men.” After approximately six weeks of integration, the Browns released Thompson and Brown. The two players passed through on waivers with no other takers in either league. They returned to the Kansas City Monarchs and the Browns were once again an all-white ballclub. Though the Browns road attendance was up, the attendance at home in St. Louis remained low during the period that Thompson and Brown were with the team and the team remained in last place in the standings and that is where the Browns finished the season. But before the end of the season, Ruel was once again put in an awkward position by one of DeWitt’s attempts to boost attendance. At some point during the dreary 1947 campaign, the Browns’ radio color commentator, Dizzy Dean, in classic braggadocio, said he could come down out of the radio booth and pitch better than ball than the tired arms on the Browns’ pitching staff. On September 17, Ed Smith, director of public relations for the Browns, signed Ol’ Diz to a contract with the idea being that Dean would pitch one or two games on the final homestand of the season. Meanwhile, Ruel and his team were toiling on the road in Boston. When asked by the press about the signing of Dean, Ruel replied, “I’ve heard nothing at all about it.” Adding, “All I know is the club has received letters from the fans saying how they enjoyed Dean’s broadcasts and how wonderful it would be if he could pitch a game for the Browns.” But, in an answer that perhaps revealed his disapproval of the publicity stunt, Ruel replied “no comment” when asked if he would use Dean as a pitcher. With much excitement for a last-place team, the fans turned out in big numbers to see Dean start the last game of the season for the Browns. Nearly 16,000 (paid attendance was listed as 15,916) fans packed into Sportsman’s Park on Sunday afternoon to see if Ol’ Diz could still pitch. He pitched four scoreless innings and was 1-for-1 at the plate. Following his single in the third inning, he tried to beat a throw to second on a force play. Ol’ Diz “slud” into second and came up with a pulled muscle. He took his turn on the mound in the fourth but the leg muscle pain was enough to force him from the game after he finished the frame. According to one account, Ruel said after the game, “Some pitchers are great and some are great pitchers—Dean belongs to the alltime great class.” However, another account suggests that Ruel still resented the front office’s publicity stunt and he did not even manage the ballgame. He instead handed the duties off to bench coach Fred Hoffman. A newspaper column earlier in the season suggested there was friction between Muddy Ruel and vice president and general manager Bill DeWitt Sr. One rumor involved Ruel leaving the field manager’s position to replace DeWitt as general manager. In light of such turmoil, it is not surprising that Ruel was fired but Ruel himself was taken aback by the dismissal. He was under the impression he had two years to turn the team around since he was working under a two year contract. Ruel even paid a visit to Richard Muckerman’s office at the City Ice and Fuel Company to get a more personal explanation for the dismissal. After being dismissed by the Browns, Ruel was a quickly hired as a coach with the Cleveland Indians. In less than a year, Ruel went from managing the last place Browns in 1947 to being part of Lou Boudreau’s brain trust that helped the Indians win the World Series in 1948. Ruel eventually graduated to the position of Farm Director of the Indians in 1950. He stayed in that position for a year. Ironically, when Ruel left the job of Farm Boss in Cleveland, the man named to replace him was Mike McNally, one of the players whom the Red Sox traded to the Yankees to receive Muddy Ruel back in 1920. After leaving Cleveland, Ruel went to Detroit, where he served as farm director and then graduated to the post of general manager from 1954 to 1956. The Briggs family sold the team in October 1956 and Muddy Ruel went from being general manager to special advisor to the new ownership group, while Spike Briggs moved into the role of general manager. Ruel remained in that position for a few months until he took a one-year leave of absence from his post with the Tigers and moved his family to Italy so that his children could study abroad. However, about ten months into his yearlong leave, Ruel resigned and left baseball for good. In a nineteen-year major league career, Ruel played in 1,468 games, accumulating 1,242 hits in 4,514 at bats for a .275 career batting average along with 4 home runs and 534 runs batted in. Perhaps after 40 years in baseball, Ruel had decided to retire and enjoy more time with his wife and four children. At this point, the Ruel family moved to Palo Alto, California. In January 1963, Ruel suffered a heart attack and was hospitalized for a few days. Later in the year he suffered another heart attack and passed away on November 13, 1963. Ruel, throughout the course of his career, was often a man of few words in his many dealings with the press. When he did speak it was only after careful consideration of his words. In his many years as a coach, he worked to supply the players around him with the tools they needed to succeed in the game and to avoid making mistakes. Once he summed up his philosophy of coaching and of the game: “This game of baseball is so beautiful, mainly because it’s so simple. The Good Lord every season supplies approximately 400 men and boys in this country with the physique and the mechanical ability to play in the major leagues. Given that good health and that skill, they’re sure to succeed—unless they make mistakes. So, that’s the basis of my operation. I try to keep them from making mistakes.”

9 out of 10, 57 seconds. Should have been a bit faster. Now the tougher days are coming.

9 out of 10, 38 seconds. It's going to be one of those months.

8 out of 10, 64 seconds. I am in a bit of a hole right now and one day could cost me this month. I went to go and play the game yesterday and when I did the site was down for maintenance. They do that in the mornings, especially in the early hours in which I play. Well what happened was I forgot to go back because I was so involved in reading the findings and updates in KC's thread. I could not believe I did this.