Baseball Hall of Shame™

by Bruce Nash

  Center Fielder · Cincinnati, NL · June 8, 1920

  Edd Roush never said a word. He never made a gesture. Yet he was ejected from a game for conduct unbecoming a Major Leaguer.

  Roush was given the boot for taking a nap in center field!

  In the eighth inning of a 4–4 game between the Cincinnati Reds and the host New York Giants at the Polo Grounds, Giants batter George Burns slapped a grounder over third base smack dab down the left field line. Home plate umpire Barry McCormick called the ball fair, whereupon Reds catcher Ivey Wingo tossed his glove in the air in protest. McCormick did him one better. The ump tossed his mask and his thumb in the air, signaling Wingo to the showers. Meanwhile, Burns, who was credited with a double, ended up at third on the play because of an error by left fielder Pat Duncan.

  After time was called, the entire Reds infield swooped in on McCormick and angrily complained that the ball was foul. While the battle raged at home plate, Roush became bored in center field. So he placed his glove and cap on the ground and used them as a pillow while he stretched out for a short snooze. He quickly fell into a deep sleep.

  Roush slumbered through the stormy dispute and all its fury: the rantings of third baseman Heinie Groh; the Spanish obscenities uttered by pitcher Dolf Luque; the pleadings of Reds manager Pat Moran; and the wild departure of Wingo, who threw his catching gear all over the field as he stomped to the dugout.

  A rude awakening for RoushNational Baseball Hall of Fame Library

  Once the squabble ended, McCormick sent the Reds back to their positions and was just about to shout “Play ball!” when he noticed that Roush was using center field as a sofa. Teammates yelled at Roush to get up, but their calls failed to rouse him. Finally, Groh raced out to center and managed to awaken the team’s Rip Van Winkle. But by then, it was too late.

  When Roush opened his eyes, the first sight he saw was McCormick’s thumb. The ejection immediately woke up Roush’s temper and the heretofore dozing player launched into a tirade against the umpire. Roush, who wanted to duke it out with McCormick, was restrained by his teammates, who eventually ushered him to the dugout.

  Moran couldn’t understand why a player should be thrown out of a game simply for taking a nap in the outfield. “A lot of players have been caught sleeping on plays and they don’t get the boot,” he complained.

  BILL SHARMAN

  Outfielder · Brooklyn, NL · September 27, 1951

  MIKE KEKICH

  Pitcher · Los Angeles, NL · 1965

  Basketball Hall of Famer Bill Sharman not only left his mark on the court but also on the baseball diamond. He was kicked out of a game without ever having played in one.

  Before becoming an NBA legend for the Boston Celtics, Sharman was a minor league outfielder, and was once called up by the Brooklyn Dodgers toward the end of the 1951 season. In the bottom of the eighth inning of a 3–3 tie, the Boston Braves put runners on the corners. On the next play, a grounder to short, Braves runner Bob Addis raced home from third. It was a bang-bang play at the plate, and umpire Frank Dascoli called Addis safe.

  Brooklyn catcher Roy Campanella and coach Cookie Lavagetto exploded in rage and were immediately ejected. The Dodgers bench then bombarded Dascoli with a volley of verbal abuse. In retaliation, Dascoli kicked out everyone in the entire Brooklyn dugout. That included rookie Sharman, who was sitting at the end of the bench, mouthing off like his teammates. Officially, they weren’t ejected. They were ordered to stay in the clubhouse and could have been summoned to play if needed. The Dodgers lost 4–3.

  Sharman never did play in the Majors and finished his baseball career a year later in the minors. Then he went on to basketball fame with the Celtics . . . but not before leaving a baseball legacy of his own for being kicked out of a game without ever having played in one.

  Los Angeles Dodgers pitcher Mike Kekich identified with Sharman. He got ejected before he played in his first Major League game. In fact, it was the only time he was tossed in his entire nine-year career.

  In 1965, when he was a rookie, Kekich was sitting in the dugout when an umpire made a close call that went against the Dodgers. Wanting to do his part for the team, Kekich joined other bench jockeys in riding the ump.

  Suddenly all the other Dodgers quit yapping at once, except Kekich. Now only his voice was heard. His lone cutting remarks infuriated the arbiter, who then kicked him out of the game.

  “That won’t happen again,” veteran Wally Moon told the press afterward. “All the kid needs is to get his timing down pat.”

  DICK DROTT

  Pitcher · Chicago, NL · April 24, 1957

  When Dick Drott tried to play nurse, he was thumbed out of the game by a rather humorless umpire.

  Drott, a rookie pitching sensation with the Chicago Cubs, was in the dugout watching his roommate, hurler Moe Drabowsky, bat against Joe Nuxhall of the home Cincinnati Reds at Crosley Field. On a 2-2 count, Drabowsky fouled a pitch that struck his foot. The batter looked for sympathy but found none on the stoic face of home plate umpire Stan Landes. So Drabowsky launched into a performance worthy of an Oscar by crumpling to the ground and writhing in pain.

  Drott decided that he couldn’t just sit there and watch his roommate roll in the dirt in agony. As luck would have it, a disabled singer who had sung the national anthem before the start of the game was sitting in a front-row seat next to the Cubs dugout. Her wheelchair was by her side.

  “Okay, if I borrow it?” Drott asked her. Then, before hearing her answer, he grabbed the wheelchair and rolled it up to home plate. “Roomie,” he said to his injured comrade, “get in the wheelchair.”

  That seemed like a terrific idea to Drabowsky, but not to Landes. “What the hell are you doing?” the ump shouted at Drott.

  “I’m only trying to help my roommate,” Drott replied with a straight face. “He’s hurt and he could use a hand.”

  Drabowsky did not get a hand. However, Drott did get the thumb. “You’re out of the game!” thundered the unamused Landes. “And take that damn wheelchair with you!”

  A few days later, Drott received a letter from Warren Giles, then president of the National League. “Warren indicated that he didn’t know if Dick was trying to make a travesty of the game or if he really had my welfare at heart,” recalled Drabowsky. “Not knowing what Dick’s motives were, Warren was reluctant to fine him. However, he did tell Dick that such behavior would not be condoned in the future.”

  Drabowsky, who was one of baseball’s greatest pranksters, added, “I’ve seen a lot of crazy things in my 17 years in the Majors, but that was really one of the funniest things I ever saw—and I didn’t even pull it.”

  EDDIE KASKO

  Manager · Boston, AL · July 7, 1972

  Boston Red Sox manager Eddie Kasko was booted out of a game for lying down on the job—he faked a faint while protesting an umpire’s call.

  Kasko’s swoon came in the top of the ninth inning of a game against the host California Angels. With Boston leading 3–2 and Ben Oglivie on third base with one out, Luis Tiant hit a grounder to shortstop Leo Cardenas, who fired the ball to catcher Jeff Torborg, trying to nail Oglivie at the plate. As Torborg was about to make the tag, the runner sidestepped him and then slid across the plate for what seemed like an insurance run.

  Torborg and Angels manager Del Rice claimed that Oglivie had run out of the baseline. Plate umpire Hank Morgenweck disagreed, but then huddled with crew chief John Rice, who was working second base. Eventually, the umps reversed the decision and called Oglivie out.

  Kasko stormed out of the dugout. Turning his wrath on Rice, Kasko shouted, “I don’t believe this, John. Are you standing there telling me that even though you were on the outside part of the infield by second base, you saw the play at home better than Morgenweck?”

  The ump replied, “Yeah, that’s exactly
what I’m telling you.”

  Kasko was so upset he didn’t know what to say. But he felt obligated to make a statement of some sort—so he keeled over backward on the grass as if he had fainted from disbelief over the call. At first, the umps were irritated over Kasko’s showboating. But when he lay there spread-eagled, flat on his back for nearly a minute, they became alarmed.

  “My God, he’s had a heart attack!” declared Rice. “Get a doctor out here!” But as the ump bent over, he saw Kasko open his eyes and grin. “Never mind the doctor,” Rice told his colleagues. Then, staring down at the prone manager, the ump bellowed, “You’re out of the game!”

  “For what?” asked Kasko.

  “For fainting.”

  Kasko left the field, but the umpires hadn’t seen the last of him. In true Hall of Shame style, Kasko managed to get ejected twice in the same game.

  After the Angels had tied the score in the bottom of the ninth, Bosox utility man Phil Gagliano started mouthing off to Morgenweck from the dugout in the top of the 10th. Kasko, who was now watching the game from the tunnel leading to the clubhouse, charged out onto the field to protect his player from getting booted.

  Rice immediately ran in from his position near second, confronted Kasko, and said, “I don’t know if you remember it or not, but while you were passed out in the last inning, I threw you out. So get out of here!”

  GRANNY HAMNER

  Shortstop · Philadelphia, NL · June 21, 1957

  Philadelphia Phillies shortstop Granny Hamner was kicked out of a game after arguing over a play in which he was called safe!

  In the top of the sixth inning of a 6–1 win over the host Milwaukee Braves, Hamner hit a bouncer to deep short where Johnny Logan made a hurried throw that pulled Frank Torre off first base. Torre made a desperate swipe at Hamner but missed him.

  As he crossed the bag, Hamner yelled, “No! No!” It was his way of saying that he had not been tagged.

  But first base umpire Ken Burkhart took exception to Hamner’s words. “I’m doing the umpiring here,” said the arbiter caustically. Alluding to Hamner’s previous run-ins with umps, Burkhart added, “In fact, you’ve been umpiring long enough.”

  Hamner shouted back, “Hey, it’s a free country. I can say what I want, especially when it’s true.”

  Because he had beaten the throw to first anyway, Hamner was called safe and credited with an infield single. That should have ended things, but it didn’t. The next batter, Solly Hemus, hit a single to right that sent Hamner to third.

  Like a fire that was never doused and flares up again, Hamner began jawing with Burkhart from across the diamond as players from both sides—unaware of the beef’s origin—wondered why a runner would argue over being called safe. Finally, Burkhart warned, “One more word out of you and you’re gone!”

  Responded Hamner, “One more word.”

  So Burkhart gave him the heave-ho.

  BOB ELLIOTT

  Third Baseman

  BOBBY HOFMAN

  Pinch Hitter

  New York, NL · August 23, 1952

  In one of the most bizarre double-barreled ejections in baseball history, a hitter was tossed out of the game before finishing his turn at bat—and moments later so was his pinch hitter.

  The visiting New York Giants were trailing the St. Louis Cardinals 3–0 in the top of the seventh inning when Bob Elliott came up to bat. Plate umpire Augie Donatelli called the first pitch a strike and Elliott squawked in protest. When the next pitch was called a strike, he blew a gasket, launching into a tirade that he capped off by kicking dirt on the arbiter.

  Donatelli wasted no time in banishing Elliott from the game. But the hotheaded player refused to leave. Instead he tried to get at Donatelli’s throat and had to be held back by the other umpires. His coaches finally hustled him to the showers to cool off.

  Meanwhile, Bobby Hofman was sent up to finish Elliott’s turn at bat with the count 0-and-2. Hofman mumbled something unfriendly to Donatelli and then settled into the batter’s box. He took the next pitch and then heard Donatelli bellow, “Steeerrriiiike threeeee!”

  That was Hofman’s cue to reprise Elliott’s hopping-mad performance. After venting his spleen, he too kicked dirt on the ump and was promptly thumbed out of the game.

  For Elliott and Hofman, it was one, two, three strikes you’re (both thrown) out of the old ball game.

  GENE MAUCH

  Manager · Montreal, NL · May 7, 1969

  Gene Mauch was kicked out of a game because he kicked too much.

  The Montreal Expos skipper turned into a punter in a game against the host Atlanta Braves. In the bottom of the fifth inning, Montreal was clinging to a 3–2 lead with Atlanta runner Felipe Alou on third and two outs. As starting pitcher Mike Wegener got ready to pitch, third base umpire Stan Landes called a balk, allowing Alou to trot home with the tying run.

  Mauch displaying his punting skillsAssociated Press

  Infuriated by the call, Mauch leaped out of the dugout and confronted Landes. Yelling at the top of his lungs, the soon-hoarse manager appealed to the other umpires to override Landes’s ruling.

  When they refused, he stomped to the pitcher’s mound and punted the resin bag 10 feet in the air. Not satisfied with his kick, Mauch ran after it and then punted it another 20 feet. Still not done, Mauch snatched the ball out of his startled hurler’s hand and punted it high into the air.

  The next boot was of Mauch himself—right out of the game.

  AL LOPEZ

  Catcher · Brooklyn, NL · September 20, 1934

  Brooklyn Dodger Al Lopez used a photo to prove umpire Bill Klem had blown a call. But when the ump got the picture, the catcher got the thumb.

  As a result, Lopez was in the showers 10 minutes before the game even started in one of the earliest ejections ever.

  The disputed call came during the first game of a doubleheader with the visiting Pittsburgh Pirates. Umpiring the contest were Klem calling balls and strikes and George Barr handling the bases.

  Brooklyn hurler Van Mungo was pitching a shutout into the ninth inning with a 4–0 cushion. But on a close play at the plate, Klem called Pittsburgh runner Paul Waner safe. “I knew I had the plate blocked,” recalled Lopez, “but Klem called the guy safe. I came off the ground yelling my head off. Klem wouldn’t listen. He just indicated that the runner had slid in under the tag.”

  But after the second game and a troubled night’s rest, much to Lopez’s delight, a morning newspaper published a picture of that very play. It clearly showed the catcher had indeed made the tag.

  That afternoon, Klem strode to home plate before the start of the game and noticed the plate was covered with dirt. He took out his whisk broom and brushed it off—and found a newspaper photo taped to the plate. Upon closer inspection, he saw it was a picture of the disputed play.

  Klem furiously ripped the picture off the plate, thrust it under Lopez’s nose and bellowed, “You’re outta here!”

  For Lopez, there was no Klemency.

  DON ZIMMER

  Manager · Boston, AL · August 2, 1980

  In a heated argument over an umpire’s call, Boston Red Sox manager Don Zimmer lost his cool—and his teeth.

  At the time, the 49-year-old skipper had been chewing tobacco for more than 30 years. Zimmer, who earned the nickname Popeye because he looked like the cartoon character, walked around with a bulge of chaw in his cheek that was as big as a baseball. He had to chew the sticky stuff carefully because he had false teeth.

  His love for chewing tobacco proved to be his undoing when he was ejected during a verbal clash with umpire John Shulock, who was also a hard-core tobacco chewer.

  The quarrel started in the top of the fourth inning in a 1–0 win over the host Texas Rangers. After Boston’s Jim Rice drew a wal
k, Texas center fielder Mickey Rivers robbed Carlton Fisk of extra bases on a sensational catch. Rice, who was near second, made a U-turn and headed back toward first. Trying to double up the runner, Rivers fired the ball to the relay man, who threw to first. Shulock called Rice out on a close play.

  “I came running across the field,” Zimmer told the New York Times 10 years later. “During the argument, I took out my chaw and slammed it down into the dirt, then Shulock slammed his chaw down. I took my pouch of tobacco out of my back pocket and slammed it down, so Shulock took out his pouch and slammed it down. But when I slammed my chaw down, my teeth had gone with it. I had to go down and get my teeth out of the chaw.”

  TOM GORMAN

  Umpire, NL · July 1, 1963

  Umpire Tom Gorman deserved the thumb for knowingly throwing out the wrong player.

  Gorman was calling balls and strikes in a game between the visiting Pittsburgh Pirates and the Philadelphia Phillies when one of the Phillies started blasting the ump from the dugout with digs such as “Where’s your seeing-eye dog?” and “Why don’t you punch a hole in your mask so you can see?” The tormentor wouldn’t let up, and by the seventh inning, Gorman had taken enough guff.

  The ump decided to take a shot at somebody, so he figured he’d toss out third baseman Don Hoak, who had had a run-in with him the previous week. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt the team much, reasoned Gorman, because Hoak had a leg injury and wasn’t even playing.

  Pointing toward the corner of the dugout where he thought he had spotted Hoak, Gorman shouted, “Okay, Hoak, you’re out of here!”

  Philly manager Gene Mauch rushed to the plate to protest. “Why are you picking on my ballplayers?” Mauch complained. “So far you’ve been working a pretty good game, not bad for you. You’ve only missed six or seven pitches.”

  “Don’t play around with me,” Gorman warned. “Get that donkey Hoak out of the dugout.”

  Mauch put his hands on his hips and pushed his face to within inches of the umpire’s. “Let me tell you something,” snapped the manager. “Hoak isn’t in the dugout.” Pointing to a spot 380 feet away, Mauch said, “He’s in the bullpen. What are you going to do now?”