Groove On, Big Don

You don't usually see champagne corks a-poppin' in the clubhouse of a team that's just finished their season in second place, but these five members of the 1976 Oakland A's — Rollie Fingers, Joe Rudi, Don Baylor, Gene Tenace and Sal Bando — were toasting a different sort of victory when Ron Riesterer snapped this celebratory shot following the A's 1-0 loss to Nolan Ryan and the California Angels on October 3, 1976. All five players (along with teammates Willie McCovey and Billy Williams) had played the entire season without signed contracts, which meant that they were now eligible to leave the A's (and Charlie Finley, the team's erratic and dictatorial owner) and market themselves in MLB's first annual free agent re-entry draft, as it was known in those days.

At the time, Don Baylor was the only guy in this photo who wasn't considered a "star" — the other four had won three World Series rings as integral members of the A's "Moustache Gang," while Baylor was merely a very good outfielder and first baseman who had come to Oakland that April (along with pitcher Mike Torrez) as part of the deal that sent free-agents-to-be Reggie Jackson and Ken Holtzman to the Baltimore Orioles. Baylor, who'd had his first Big League cup of coffee with the Orioles in 1970, began playing regularly in 1972; he'd shown flashes of power along with his considerable speed (he averaged over 29 stolen bases in his first four full seasons), but didn't really start hammering the ball until 1975, when he set then-high marks for himself with 25 homers, 76 RBIs, 79 runs, a .360 on-base percentage and a .489 slugging percentage. His power numbers dropped again during his lone year in Oakland — only 15 homers, 68 RBIs and a .697 OPS — but he did steal 52 bases for Chuck Tanner's theft-happy team, which set a modern major league record that year with 341 swipes. Baylor was also hit by 20 pitches that year, making him the American League leader in that category for the third time in four seasons.

In all, it was enough to land Baylor a a six-year, $1.6 million contract from Gene Autry and the Angels, which worked out to a considerable raise from the $35,200 that he'd earned as a member of the A's. Joe Rudi would do even better, signing with California for five years and $2.1 million dollars, but the Baylor signing would be the one that really paid off for the Angels. Baylor's plate performance improved steadily over the next three seasons, peaking with a 1979 campaign that saw him hit .296/.371/.530 with 33 doubles and 36 home runs, and lead the league with 139 RBIs and 120 runs scored; he also led the Angels with 22 stolen bases, and played in all 162 games that season.

That's the Don Baylor I remember best, a stoic mountain of a man (at least, he seemed mountainous at the time, though Baseball Reference lists him at 6'1" and 190 pounds in his prime) who coolly led the Angels to the post-season for the first time in their 18-year history. That was a really fun Angels team to watch — in addition to Baylor and Rudi, they had Rod Carew, "Disco" Dan Ford, Frank Tanana, Nolan Ryan, Willie Mays Aikens, Carney Lansford, Bobby Grich and Bert Campaneris on the roster — and the only Angels team I ever actively rooted for. In fact, the first post-season game I ever attended was Game 4 of that year's ALCS in Anaheim; unfortunately, it turned out to be an 8-0 blow-out that clinched the AL pennant for the Orioles, and Big Don went 0-4 that day with two strikeouts. (I was utterly miserable, anyway — having just gotten braces the day before, my mouth was in such pain that I could barely eat a ballpark hot dog. My only happy memory from that day is of the streaker who led the Big A security in a post-game chase across the field.)

I loved Don Baylor because, like most of my favorite players of the era, he was an anomaly. He was a big guy who could steal bases as well as hit home runs. His 1979 performance earned him the AL MVP award, which made him "the first Designated Hitter" to do so, even though he only actually DH'd in 65 games that season. He was a badass-looking dude who, unless you were an opposing pitcher or a middle infielder trying to turn a double play, had a reputation for being exquisitely good-natured. Though his nickname "Groove" supposedly came from his brash rookie pronouncement that "If I get in my groove, I'm gonna play every day," he was quite the disco denizen, as well; several years back, when he was serving as the hitting coach for the Arizona Diamondbacks, Baylor waxed effusively about his disco days to a broadcaster friend of mine who'd showed him a copy of my book, Big Hair and Plastic Grass. According to my friend, Baylor pulled Big Hair out of his hands and began enthusiastically thumbing through it, and appeared quite reluctant to give it back.

That's the closest I ever came to meeting Don Baylor, but the news this morning of his death at 68 due to complications from multiple myeloma still hurts really, really bad. Maybe it's because he's another one of my childhood baseball heroes who, like Willie Stargell, Dock Ellis, Mark Fidrych, Gates Brown and George "Boomer" Scott before him, left this life much too soon. Maybe it's because the Don Baylor I cheered for as a kid seemed utterly impervious to any sort of negative force; after all, the guy set a modern-day MLB record (since surpassed by Craig Biggio) by getting hit 267 times with pitched balls — and no matter how hard the pitch, he'd simply shrug it off and head down to first. Maybe it's because, even though the guy never really achieved superstar status, his positive nature resonated with fans at every one of his stops during his 17 years as a full-time major leaguer (and later during his managerial stints with the Colorado Rockies and Chicago Cubs), and I'm seeing a lot of shared sadness online today that attests to how much he'll be missed. Maybe it's because, at a time when lying, cheating, antagonism, maliciousness and willful ignorance are such recurring themes in our daily lives, it feels like the human race can't afford to lose any more of the "good guys". And maybe it's because someone I love dearly is currently gutting her way through cancer issues of her own, and is anxiously awaiting a pathology report that could contain some very bad (or hopefully very good) news...

At least I — and his countless fans — can take comfort in the fact that Don Baylor packed a lot of living into his 68 years. The first African-American to play baseball for the recently-integrated Stephen F. Austin HIgh School in Austin, Texas, Baylor would later become the first African-American manager ever hired by the Cubs. He played in seven American League playoff series, finally reaching the World Series in each of the last three years of his MLB career: With the Boston Red Sox in 1986, with the Minnesota Twins in 1987 (earning his first and only WS ring), and with the Oakland A's in 1988. He won 627 games as a major league manager, including 77 with the Rockies during the strike-shortened 1995 season — a number good enough to get them into the post-season for the first time in their short history. He worked as a hitting coach with several teams (noticeably improving the performance of Chipper Jones, among others) and even served as a broadcaster for the Washington Nationals in 2007. He was active in charity work as well, winning the Roberto Clemente Award in 1985 for his efforts on behalf of the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation. If his untimely death leaves us with a great void, that's only because he made such large mark while he was here.

So groove on, Big Don. If there's an afterlife, I hope it comes complete with the most happening disco imaginable, and that your legs are feeling good enough again to let you bust a few moves on the light-up dance floor. And may you rest in funky peace.

 

 

 

Comments

[Charlie Vascellaro]

That's beautifully heartfelt memorial tribute Dan. I've always been a big fan of big Don myself.

[Jeff]

Fantastic! Thanks for writing this Dan!

[Shlepcar]

Dan -

This brought a tear to my eye. A very moving tribute.

I certainly hope your friend gets good news.

Best,

Chris

[George]

Great write up on an interesting player in baseball history. I enjoyed reading it.

[seth kupchick]

Tannana, Carew, and Baylor were the best Angels, and all holy. Thanks for remembering him Dan, and I'm glad "Big Hair" touched him. It touched me too.