Big Hair and Plastic Grass

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...

 

Doin' The Do

On this date in 1974, Dock Ellis (shown here with a few adoring fans) attempts to fire up his Pirates teammates — who he believes are being unduly intimidated by the Big Red Machine — with a pre-game announcement to his teammates that he's going to hit every batter in the Reds lineup. "We gonna get down," he says. "We gonna do the do. I’m going to hit these motherfuckers."

He then makes good on his word, plunking Pete Rose, Joe Morgan and Dan Driessen and walking Tony Perez (who narrowly manages to dance out of the way of two beanballs) with the bases loaded before Pirates skipper Danny Murtaugh yanks his ass from the game.

Like many stories from Dock's career, this one sounds improbable — at least until you actually look it up. Here's the box score from that May 1, 1974 game, and sure enough, there's Dock's line:

IP:0 H:0 R:1 ER:1 BB:1 SO:0 HBP:3

For the record, the Pirates dropped to 6-13 with the loss to the Reds that day... but came back to win the NL East by a game and a half over the Cardinals.

The "Beeg Mon" Buckles Up

From the days when major league baseball players drove '78 Pontiacs (thanks, Timothy K. Ready!) and the fine MopUpDuty blog comes this fascinating 1979 public service announcement, in which Toronto Blue Jays DH Rico Carty promotes safe driving in Ontario.

With a personality so volatile that he once provoked normally staid Braves teammate Hank Aaron into a fistfight, the self-proclaimed "Beeg Mon" seems like an odd choice for a safety promotion — but maybe after sitting out the entire 1971 season (after leading the NL with a .366 batting average the year before) due to injuries suffered in winter ball, he began to see the value in taking care of himself. (Or maybe, after sustaining permanent eye damage during an early 70s altercation with Atlanta police, he didn't want to run afoul of Canadian cops by driving belt-free.)

In any case, the once-fearsome Carty was definitely slowing down by the time this ad originally saw print; 1979 would be the final season in the beegs for the Beeg Mon, in which he posted a .256/.322/.390 line, belting only 12 homers and 55 RBI in 132 games. Carty spent spring training with the Blue Jays in 1980, but the team cut him in late March, about a month after the Topps card below was released.

 

 

"A Disaster Combined With A Catastrophe..."

In honor of Opening Day around the league, here's the trailer for 1976's Bad News Bears, still my all-time favorite baseball flick, not to mention my favorite Walter Matthau performance. (And, as a devoted fan of the original The Taking of Pelham 123, that's saying something.) Enjoy...

It Was 32 Years Ago Tonight...

...that WLUP DJ Steve Dahl blew up a stack of disco records in the outfield at Comiskey Park, triggering a field invasion by hundreds of stoned rock fans. Equally thrilling and moronic, "Disco Demolition Night" has been endlessly debated ever since by pop cultural and social historians, many of whom continue to cast the event as a racist/homophobic rally and/or the final nail in the coffin of disco music. It was, in fact, neither. Disco continued to thrive well into 1980 — "We Are Family," the theme song of the Pittsburgh Pirates as they fought their way to a World Series championship in 1979, was about as disco as you could get — before going underground and mutating into house music, electro, etc., etc. And while some of the revelers in attendance may well have been racist or homophobic (working class white Chicagoans have never been known for their tolerance or open-mindedness), the event was really more about rock fans worrying that their precious rock n' roll was being supplanted by disco. Sure, it seems pretty silly now that anyone could have worried that Led Zeppelin or The Who would be somehow eradicated from the airways; but at the height of disco, this was a real worry for rockers of a conservative stripe.

There are several clips from "Disco Demolition Night" floating around on YouTube, but this one is my favorite. For one thing, you see the White Sox players on the field, preparing to play their second game of their double-header against the Tigers — only to retreat as the field suddenly swells with revelers. For another, you get to see and hear Sox broadcaster Jimmy Piersall completely lose his shit as the promotion gets way out of hand, and opining that there are many things (including swimming) that are more worthwhile than making an unauthorized dash onto a baseball diamond. In other words, it's a pretty priceless time capsule that's sure to make Chicagoans of a certain age chant "Coho! Coho!"

 

 

The Other Reggie

Back on May 22, 1976, switch-hitting Cardinals outfielder Reggie Smith harnessed all the funky power of his very impressive 'fro/chops/'stache combo and homered three times — twice batting right-handed and once batting left — driving in five runs in the Cardinals' 7-6 defeat of the Phillies at the Vet.

As my friend Ted Cogswell noted when I posted this factoid and photo on the Big Hair Facebook page, there was something cool about rooting for "The Other Reggie" — Reggie Jackson got all the press, of course, but The Other Reggie was more consistent at the plate and in the field, had a stronger and more accurate arm, and even posted some pretty similar (and in some cases even better) numbers in 1977 and 1978, the Reggies' first two full seasons with the Yankees and Dodgers, respectively. Behold:

1977 Jackson — 606 PA, 93 R, 39 2B, 32 HR, 110 RBI, 74 BB, 129 K, 289 TB, .286 Avg, .375 OBP.

1977 Smith — 603 PA, 104 R, 27 2B, 32 HR, 87 RBI, 104 BB, 76 K, 281 TB, .307 Avg, .427 OBP,

1978 Jackson — 581 PA, 82 R, 13 2B, 27 HR, 97 RBI, 58 BB, 133 K, 244 TB, .274 Avg, .356 OBP.

1978 Smith — 531 PA, 82 R, 27 2B, 29 HR, 93 RBI, 70 BB, 90 K, 250 TB, .295 Avg, .382 OBP.

Of course, Jackson had the charisma, star power and a candy bar; Smith was upstaged on his own team by Steve Garvey, who got all the media attention in LA — but if Smith hadn't been on the team in '77, the Dodgers wouldn't have won the NL pennant that year. Unfortunately, Smith's career hit a pretty hard downward slide beginning in 1979, one that was marked by injuries and an unfortunate 1981 incident where he went into the stands to attack a heckling Giants fan at Candlestick Park; he was out of baseball by 1983.

Still, while Reggie Jackson's five home runs in the '77 World Series have understandably obscured everything else about that particular October Classic, it should be remembered that Reggie Smith hit three dingers for the Dodgers in that Series, thus setting the record for most home runs hit by guys named Reggie in a single World Series. Not only will that record probably stand forever, but it's one more example of how the 70s were clearly the most bad-ass decade in baseball history.

 

 

It Was 31 Years Ago Today...

Yep, July 12 marks the 31st anniversary of "Disco Demolition Night" at Comiskey Park. Gallons of ink have already been spilled on this collision of the Grand Ol' Game and '70s pop culture, not least by me. So instead, I'll just share with you this fascinating chunk of footage that I haven't seen before: Nearly eight minutes of Sox broadcaster Jimmy Piersall freaking out while the field invasion is in full swing. Enjoy!

Chicago Tonight

Here's a fun interview I did the other week with "Chicago Tonight" on WTTW-TV, which finally aired last night. They dug up some really cool '70s footage for it, including the '74 World Series between the Oakland A's and L.A. Dodgers, Charley O. Finley, and the Disco Demolition riot at Comiskey Park in '79.