Big Hair and Plastic Grass

The Green Monster (And Other Walls)

Okay, so this isn't actually Fenway Park's "Green Monster," but since a cursory Google search didn't turn up a decent shot of the fabled wall in its 70s splendor, I decided to go with Lou Ferrigno in his star turn as the Incredible Hulk — another green monster I was quite intrigued by in those days.

Anyway, the Green Monster comes to mind because this week's "High and Tight" — the weekly baseball column I write for Rolling Stone Online — deals with outfield walls and ballpark dimensions, which have become a hot subject of debate in recent years. Five out of the 13 ballparks that have opened since 2000 have undergone some sort of alteration to the height or distance of their outfield walls, and now fans and players alike are bemoaning the hitter-unfriendliness of the new Marlins Park. So this week, I ask my esteemed panel of rock n' roll seamheads (including Scott Ian, Steve Earle, Ben Gibbard, Handsome Dick Manitoba, Tom Morello and the Baseball Project dudes): Should all ballparks be made hitter-friendly, or more uniform? Or should each park have a different layout — and maybe some different quirks to go with it? Click HERE to find out what they have say...

In other news, the paperback edition of Big Hair & Plastic Grass is still coming out on June 5, and will still make an excellent Father's Day gift, hint hint. And if you're gonna be in NYC on Tuesday, June 12, don't forget to swing by my paperback-release celebration at Manitoba's Bar in the East Village. The shindig (which, not entirely coincidentally, takes place on the 42nd anniversary of Dock Ellis' LSD-assisted no-hitter) will run from 6:30-9 pm. I will be reading from the book and signing copies (Booked By Harriet will be selling copies at the bar), and the legendary Handsome Dick Manitoba himself will be MC-ing and hosting the proceedings. While I can't promise that I will be tripping on acid, I can guarantee a good time for all, including 70s jams (courtesy of DJ Mr. Tim), "dirty water dogs," peanuts, crackerjacks, popcorn, and of course liquid refreshments. (The latter of which you'll haveta pay for, but hey — this ain't some expensive yuppie joint!)

The event itself is FREE, so long as you're of legal drinking age and can prove it accordingly. Come on out and let's celebrate the funky glories of 70s baseball... or Hulk will smash!

 

 

Happy Birthday, Chuck Hartenstein!

Funky birthday greetings to Chuck "Twiggy" Hartenstein, who pitched for the Cubs, Pirates, Cardinals and Red Sox form 1966-70, then spent the next six years in the minors before finishing his MLB career by pitching 13 games in relief for the expansion Toronto Blue Jays in 1977 at the age of 35. (Those six years in the minors must have taken their toll — the guy looks about 50 on this '77 Topps card.)

Though Chuck didn't do so hot — giving up 8 homers and 20 earned runs in 27.1 innings — his Presleyan sideburns and avaitor shades were impressive enough to earn him a spot in the BH&PG Hall of Fame. (I'll bet a tin of Skoal Bandits that he got up and sang "Burning Love" with the band during at least two wedding receptions.)  For another look at Chuck's sartorial and follicular majesty, dig his '77 O-Pee-Chee card, below...

Brawls And Strikes

That's Bill "Spaceman" Lee pictured above, showing off some of the injuries he sustained during the brutal Red Sox-Yankees brawl of May 20, 1976 — one of the decade's more vicious "basebrawls". Since I was a little too young to appreciate the Bud Harrelson-Pete Rose dust-up in the 1973 NLCS, this fight was the first baseball brawl that really etched itself upon my frontal lobe. Footage from the fight kicks in at about 1:35 in the clip below...

Having just passed the 36th anniversary of that fight, I figured that this week's edition of "High and Tight" (my weekly baseball column for Rolling Stone Online) should focus on some of the great basebrawls of the last five decades. Our panelists came up with some good ones, with Greg Dulli's being my personal favorite...

Speaking of which, I recently did a fun interview with Tom Jackson at Cornbelt Baseball, in which he picked my brain about the column, the meeting of all things musical and mound-related, and what's up with the paperback edition of Big Hair & Plastic Grass, which comes out June 5. Tom asked me what I have planned, promo-wise; while I've got several things in the works, the only thing that I've got completely confirmed is a paperback-release celebration on Tuesday, June 12 at Manitoba's Bar on NYC's Lower East Side. The shindig (which, not entirely coincidentally, takes place on the 42nd anniversary of Dock Ellis' LSD-assisted no-hitter) will run from 6:30-9 pm; I will be reading from the book and signing copies (which will be on sale at the bar), and the legendary Handsome Dick Manitoba of Dictators fame will be MC-ing and hosting the proceedings. While I can't promise that I will be tripping on acid, I can guarantee a good time for all, including 70s jams on the jukebox, "dirty water dogs," peanuts, and of course liquid refreshments. (Which you gotta pay for, but hey — it's not some expensive yuppie bar!)

The event at Manitoba's is FREE to all, so long as you're 21 or over. If you're in NYC that night, come on down and say hey...

 

Billy Martin and Tiger Stadium

(photo by Tom Hagerty)

This beautiful photo of Tiger Stadium was taken by Tom Hagerty (and can be found in his incredible Picasa gallery of Tiger Stadium in the 70s) in June 1976, just a week or two after I saw my first major league game there. My Dad took me as a belated birthday present, and we sat probably ten rows behind home plate; purchasing good seats was pretty easy (and inexpensive) in those days.

Now sadly gone, Tiger Stadium will always be my favorite ballpark, my original "Field of Dreams," while Dodger Stadium is my favorite major league ballpark that's still in existence. I talk about both of them in the introduction to this week's edition of "High and Tight," my weekly baseball column for Rolling Stone Online, in which our esteemed panel of rock n' roll seamheads (including Alice Cooper, Scott Ian of Anthrax, Tom Morello, Steve Earle, and "King of Men" Handsome Dick Manitoba) dish on their favorite and least favorite places to see a major league ballgame. Some of the answers are predictable, some considerably less so...

Today also marks the birthdate of the late, great and generally unhinged Billy Martin, the fiery skipper who made winners out of the Tigers, Rangers and Yankees in the 1970s... and whose alcohol and anger-management issues forced his eventual exit each time. His 1972 Topps "In Action" card shows him jawing with an umpire, a choice that's both poetic and perfect.

Billy did some of his best work at Tiger Stadium in 1972, when he somehow got a team of aging, injured vets and no-name spare parts to play well above their collective heads and actually make it to the ALCS, where they narrowly lost to the newly-ascendant "Moustache Gang" Oakland A's. When I went to see the Tigers play the visiting Yankees in May '76, Billy was back, though this time as the manager of the Bronx Bombers. Billy was ejected from that game before the first pitch, having picked a fight with the home plate umpire during the exchange of lineup cards...

I've long suspected that Billy wanted to get tossed; it was a Sunday afternoon game, and he'd probably been out drinking all Saturday night, hitting his favorite Motor City hotspots, and was now desperately in need of a hangover cure (which, given his proclivities, certainly would have involved a little "hair of the dog" action). In any case, his tirade meant that the first bit of real major league action I witnessed in person wasn't a strikeout, a home run, or a stolen base — it was Billy Martin getting kicked out of a ballgame, and I'll always cherish that memory. Happy Birthday, Billy, wherever you are...

 

What's Your Opinion Of Kingman's Performance?

On this date in 1978, Dave "Kong" Kingman (wearing the Cubs' infamous white-pinstriped "blue pajamas" road uni) hits three home runs and drives in eight runs as the Cubs beat the Dodgers 10-7 in 15 innings at Dodger Stadium.

Afterwards, AP reporter Paul Olden asks Dodger manager Tommy Lasorda his opinion of Kingman's performance. You can listen to Tommy's profoundly NSFW rant, er, response HERE.

Also, dig this shot of Kong in off-the-field "relaxation mode," wearing a groovy shirt and a forbidding scowl. Like the May 14, 1978 file photo above, I snagged it from "The Dave Kingman Website," which is filled with great photos of Kong from throughout his career...

Madman Turner Overdrive

On this date in 1977, Atlanta Braves owner Ted Turner tells Braves skipper Dave Bristol to "take a vacation," then dons a Braves uniform, bites off a plug of chewing tobacco, and assumes managerial duties for the team, which has lost 16 games straight.

Despite this change, the hapless Braves (many of whom are snickering behind Turner's back over the fact that he's wearing his stirrups backwards) lose 2-1 to John Candelaria and the Pirates in Pittsburgh. After the loss, NL President Chub Feeney bars Turner from the dugout; but the team breaks their losing streak the following day under interim manager Vern Benson, beating the Pirates 6-1 as winning pitcher Max Leon drives in three runs with a sacrifice fly and a bases-loaded single.

Bristol is reinstated on May 13th, and the team promptly loses again, this time to the Cardinals in a 3-0 shutout at home.

Ticket To Ride (Down The Rainbow Path)

Time's running out, folks — just over a day now until the auction for this full ticket from a 1970 Padres game is up.

What's so special about this ticket, you ask? Well, the evening of June 12, 1970 was when Dock Ellis pitched his legendary LSD-assisted no-hitter at San Diego Stadium, blanking the (admittedly hapless) Padres 2-0, despite walking 8 batters, hitting another, and allowing three runners to steal bases on him. This ticket, therefore, is an unblemished souvenir from the greatest psychedelic moment in baseball history, and possibly the greatest athletic achievement of all time.

Bidding is up to $250 as we speak, which is outta my price range — but anyone who buys this for me will receive my undying loyalty and friendship in return...

Oh, and speaking of Dock and psychedelia — dig this pic (courtesy of my pals who are making No No: A Dockumentary) of Dock and fellow Bucs hurler Jim "Mudcat" Grant, who is soon to join Dock in the Baseball Reliquary's "Shrine of the Immortals". Dock was usually a flashy dresser, but Mudcat's funky vines and muttonchops put homeboy in the shade here...

Bury My Season At Wounded Knee

On this date in 1976, Chicago White Sox pitcher Wilbur Wood takes a Ron LeFlore line drive off his kneecap in this game against the Detroit Tigers. The resultant fracture will put the portly knuckleballer (who'd averaged 21.2 wins, 44.8 starts and 336.2 innings over the previous five years) out of action for the rest of the season — but it will also spare him the indignity of having to don short pants during the team's three shorts-sportin' games that August.

Oh, and speaking of memorably horrific uniforms, check out the latest edition of "High and Tight," my baseball column for Rolling Stone Online. This week, I ask our esteemed panel of rock n' roll seamheads (including Alice Cooper, Steve Earle, Scott Ian, Tom Morello, and the cats from The Baseball Project) the question: Which are the coolest baseball uniforms of all time? And which are the worst?

Veeck As In... What The Heck?

I really wanted to love Paul Dickson's new Bill Veck: Baseball's Greatest Maverick — and, in truth, I loved quite a bit of it. Dickson does a beautiful job of capturing the spirit and personality of baseball's most visionary owner, as well as detailing the upbringing that shaped his unwaveringly populist bent; he also nicely separates fact from the fiction that swirled around him throughout his life and continues to swirl around his legend, including his relationships with Satchel Paige, Larry Doby and Eddie "The MIdget Pinch-HItter" Gaedel.

That said, as a 70s baseball guy, I found Dickson's coverage of Veeck's second go-round with the Chicago White Sox to be, by far, the most disappointing part of his book. 1976, Veeck's first season after re-acquiring the team — during which he made a surprise appearance at Comiskey Park's Opening Day ceremonies as part of the "Spirit of '76" tableau pictured above, and sent his team out to play in short pants on three occasions — gets a decent amount of coverage, but the rest of his tenure blows by almost like an afterthought. The '77 White Sox "South Side Hitmen" squad (led by such "rent-a-players" as Richie Zisk and Oscar Gamble) made for one of the most exciting summers in Chicago baseball history, yet they rate little more than four pages in Dickson's 400+ page tome. 1979's infamous Disco Demolition Night (which Veeck took the blame for, even though it was his son Mike's bright idea) doesn't even get that many.

Now, I know it's impossible to write a baseball book that pleases everyone (believe me, I know!), and perhaps Dickson just doesn't have the same enthusiasm or interest for this part of Veeck's career as he has for his 1940s-50s glory days. And maybe I'm just the kind of guy who thinks empires are more interesting in their decline, and that great men are more fascinating in their "Lion In Winter" phase. But the 70s were, by and large, a pretty bleak time in Chicago baseball history, at least until Bill Veeck showed up — and the joy, excitement and absurdity he brought to the Windy City in 1976 and 1977 added up to far more than a mere footnote to his career.

Sure, the last couple of years with Veeck at Comiskey were pretty depressing; free agency (ironically enough, a development that Veeck had long been in favor of) took the wind out of the team's sails, and ultimately no amount of beer crate-stacking competitions — to name one of many hilarious late 70s Veeck promotions that go unmentioned in Dickson's book — could make Chicagoans support a shitty team for the long haul. Veeck had overstayed his welcome, and by then the fun of '77 seemed a distant and hazy memory. But even so, it was a sad day for Chicago (and baseball in general) when Veeck hobbled out of the White Sox front office for the final time in January 1981.

(One detail of Veeck's final Sox season that I'd forgotten — and which Dickson reminded me of — was Edward J. DeBartolo Sr.'s failed attempts to buy the White Sox in 1980. According to Dickson's research, it's pretty clear that DeBartolo was shut out of Major League Baseball by Commissioner Bowie Kuhn because of his Italian ancestry. Bowie Kuhn: Even more of an asshole than I'd previously imagined...)

All that said, Bill Veeck: Baseball's Greatest Maverick is an engrossing read, one which will make you feel like you know the late, great man better, even if you've already read Veeck — As In Wreck and his other autobiographical works. But like Chicago in the late 70s, the book sure coulda used a lot more of dem dere Sout' Side Hitmen...

Anyway, this seems like a good place to post this incredible clip from the Museum of Classic Chicago Television's Fuzzy Memories site, an August 1977 WMAQ-TV profile of White Sox third baseman Eric Soderholm that includes some great footage of the Sout' Side Hitmen in action. Dig his great explanation about why he wears a Hebrew "Chai" medallion...

The Minnesota Twins Have Something To Prove

A tip of the Monsanto Toupee goes out to Big Hair & Plastic Grass Facebook page fan Kyle Bookholz, who hipped me today to this amazing Minnesota Twins TV ad from 1979, featuring Jerry Koosman, Ken Landreaux, Roy Smalley, Roger Erickson and Ron Jackson. "I've been hearing how the Twins are hurtin' without Carew," sez Kooz, which makes me wonder how many teams today would name a recently-departed star player in a TV ad, even as an act of defiance.

Put it this way: I'm pretty sure the Cardinals aren't running a "We don't need no stinkin' Pujols" spot on St. Louis channels. Though considering how hapless the Twins have been this year, maybe they should consider adopting "We've Got Something To Prove" as their "exciting" new slogan.

Koosman at least had reason to cop a 'tude, having been shipped to the Twins for a couple of minor leaguers (including Jesse Orosco) after going 3-15 for the Mets in '78 (and 8-20 the year before). Getting some decent run support for the first time in years, Kooz would go on to win 20 games for Minnesota in 1979. Unfortunately, his team would only win 82 games in all, finishing 6 games out in the AL West... behind the Rod Carew-infused California Angels, of course.