Before Stargell left the interview room on that victorious night in Baltimore, a reporter asked him if he ever had a moment in baseball that was more satisfying than his triumphant effort in Game 7. “One other time,” he said. “When the Pirates signed me in 1959, they gave me a $1,500 bonus and $175 a month. I was elated then. But then and now ... it’s hard to find the words to say how I feel.”40
Stargell was named the series Most Valuable Player after hitting .400 with three home runs and seven RBIs in the seven games. He also set a series record for most extra-base hits with seven—three homers and four doubles—and finished with 25 total bases, which tied Reggie Jackson’s mark set in 1977. In the seventh game alone, he had four hits—two doubles and a single to go with his game- and series-deciding home run. None of his teammates were surprised. “He is,” Garner said, “a thoroughbred junkyard dog.”41 In addition to celebrating with real family members, Stargell defended the importance of the family-like atmosphere that the ballclub had cultivated all season long—something that several Baltimore media members had questioned earlier in the series. “Someone asked me if The Family was overrated,” Stargell said afterward. “That bothered me, because this person didn’t live with us and didn’t see how much we depended on each other. There’s really no words to put into the way I feel. We had to scratch, we had to crawl and we did it together because we are family. We didn’t mean to be sassy or fancy, but we felt the song typified our ballclub.”42
Although beat writers have a tendency to be somewhat cynical at times, Donovan said the “We Are Family” theme was legitimate and Stargell took the song’s lyrics to heart. “That was all him,” he said. “The words reflected how people from different backgrounds all came together with the Pirates—and they worked together. That team made a lot of moves and had lots of people playing roles, but they all seemed to get along. It wasn’t fake or anything.” The close-knit attitude paid off when the team was staring at a three-games-to-one deficit; no finger pointing ensued but rather a determination to start playing Pirate baseball and chip away at that deficit, one game at a time. “When we were down and had to win the last three, Joe Safety, our PR guy, walks past Garner and Garner says, ‘What the hell’s wrong with you?” Tanner recalled 31 years later. “And Joe says, ‘Well, you know...’ Garner says, ‘Don’t worry—we got ’em right where we want ’em.’ So we beat ’em that day and then went down there and won the last two and we’re world champs.” Donovan recalled seeing Stargell exude the same attitude with the Pirates facing elimination. “He acted as if it was just a game,” he said. “He’d be asking, ‘Who’s tight back there?’ and then they’d end up joking with one another. That was his way of saying, ‘There’s nothing to be nervous about. Just go out and play the game and things will work out the way they work out,’” Donovan said.
Amid the pandemonium of the clubhouse, Stargell recalled a former teammate, one who had set the tone for a previous Pirate championship team eight years earlier. “I thought 1971 was Roberto Clemente’s moment of glory,” he said. “He had started something with his winning, driving attitude. Whatever contribution I’ve made has been merely an extension of what he started.”43
The next day, some 25,000 fans packed Market Square in downtown Pittsburgh to pay tribute to the new champions. Stargell had to wipe tears away from his eyes before he addressed the crowd. “The greatest thing we can do, is this winter when we’re all traveling, to say, ‘We are from a city that has nothing but champions.’ You people are just as responsible for our winning as we are. We really are a big family. I can’t think of another place I want to bring my kids up in.”44
Chapter 7
Twilight Time
STARGELL’S PERFORMANCE IN the ’79 World Series vaulted him into national prominence, just as Clemente’s did eight years earlier and it didn’t take long for the networks and other major media to pounce. Although Stargell talked shortly after Game 7 ended about wanting to get away for a bit, he appeared on two network morning television shows in the days following the series, set up a visit to Merv Griffin’s talk show and lined up a 13-city tour sponsored by Gordon’s Dry Gin Company to increase awareness about sickle cell anemia. The tour was due to start November 4 and conclude December 7 and take Stargell to Boston, Portland, Los Angeles, Atlanta, Miami and Washington, D.C. In addition to paying for the tour, Gordon’s donated $10,000 to the Willie Stargell Foundation—the successor to the Black Athletes Foundation.
He also made it to New York in late October to collect the World Series Most Valuable Player award—a silver Corvette, courtesy of Sport magazine. There, he signed scores of autographs, picked up a gold record album that a Sister Sledge representative provided him—commemorating the million-records-sold mark of “We Are Family”—and met with the media, using the opportunity to get a jump on his sickle cell awareness campaign. “Sickle cell hasn’t received the attention other diseases have,” he said. “People are being crippled, others are dying. We’re trying to get a message out here.” He spoke on a variety of other topics while in New York, including his adopted home town. “I complain about the potholes and shoveling the snow, too,” he said, “but when I come through that Fort Pitt Tunnel, especially after being away for a long time, it means a whole lot to me.” He spoke about the future, saying he’d like to work with younger players, “being able to help them over some hurdles I’ve seen.” And he shared his personal philosophy. “Blacks and whites came together on our club and we sacrificed. I can’t see why men can’t work together like that everywhere in the world.”1
Two days after the Sport magazine appearance, he was introduced as a new executive with the Sperry-Remington Company, promoting a new electric shaver. In fact, as he stood at the microphone at the “21” Club, he pulled an electric razor from his pocket and shaved off a three-day growth of beard, triggering a chorus of laughs and applause from the packed house. Stargell talked about his long wait to be discovered by Madison Avenue, saying that he wasn’t bitter about the fact that businesses were reluctant to provide blacks the same opportunities as whites. “I would never tell anyone how to spend their money,” he said. “But at the same time, I’m extremely happy to be one of the first blacks who will participate in the growth of a company.” Howard Cosell—perhaps the top sportscaster in the nation at the time and never one to mince words—told the audience that it was a crime black athletes hadn’t had the same commercial opportunities as white athletes. “This chance has come Willie’s way because he now is a superstar—the World Series made him a star for the whole country to see,” Cosell said. “And it’s a crime black people have had to wait so long. To me, Willie Stargell is transcendental to the role of merely an excellent athlete and has brought dignity to the sport he represents.”2
From New York, it was on to Buffalo for another business meeting and dinner speech. Then to Chicago for more of the same, followed by a trip to Las Vegas to take care of still more dinner and business engagements. And that was followed by a visit to Los Angeles and then a stop in San Diego to volunteer some time at Bob Skinner’s baseball camp. The camp visit was completely in character; in addition to his work for the sickle cell anemia cause, he was active in a program in Pittsburgh aimed at helping juvenile criminals and drug abusers and served on boards for the local United Way, Boy Scouts of America and a Public Broadcasting Service television station.
His volunteer work did not begin after his coming-out party in the 1979 World Series; he had been involved in the sickle cell anemia fight for years and had worked during the off-season with various programs aimed at helping underprivileged youth in Pittsburgh. His work did not go unrecognized; he was given the Brian Piccolo YMCA Award for Humanitarian Services in Los Angeles in January 1977. Three years earlier, he received Phi Delta Theta’s Lou Gehrig Award, and that same year he was named recipient of the Roberto Clemente Award, presented to the major league baseball player who best exemplifies the game of baseball on and off the field. In 1978, he was voted the Hutch Awa
rd winner, named in honor of former Cincinnati Reds manager Fred Hutchinson, who died of cancer.
In addition to taking home the World Series MVP award, Stargell finally earned a piece of the National League’s Most Valuable Player award in 1979, as he shared the prize with fellow first baseman Keith Hernandez of the St. Louis Cardinals. He had finished second twice before—to Joe Torre in 1971 and Pete Rose in 1973. The tie was the first in the 49-year history of the MVP award. Hernandez, who was named on every ballot, batted .344 with 11 home runs and 105 RBIs for the third-place Cardinals, who finished 12 games behind the Pirates in the NL East. Stargell, who hit .281 with 32 homers and 82 RBIs for the world champion Pirates, received 10 first-place votes to four for Hernandez. But four writers left Stargell completely off their ballots. All four of them—Mike Littwin of the Los Angeles Times, Kenny Hand of the Houston Post, Tim Tucker of the Atlanta Journal and Harry Shattuck of the Houston Chronicle—defended their action, saying others were more deserving of the award, and that included some of Stargell’s Pirates teammates. “I thought Kent Tekulve was the most valuable player on the Pirates because they came around when he came around,” Littwin said. He also said he voted for who he thought were the 10 best players in the league and he didn’t think Stargell was one of them. Hand said Stargell had a good year “but there were other guys more valuable to their teams than Stargell over the whole season.” In fact, Hand said, Parker—who finished 10th in the voting—was the Pirates’ MVP. Tucker, meanwhile, felt the speedy Moreno—the catalyst at the top of the lineup—was the Bucs’ MVP, “and if you think Moreno is the most valuable player, then you can’t vote for Stargell as Most Valuable Player. Without Moreno, the Pirates never would have won their division.”3 Stargell said he did not want to get into any negative discussion when asked about the four writers who left him off their ballots.4 Instead, he reacted to the voting in his typical classy manner. “A taste of honey is better than none,” he said before defending the four writers who chose to leave him off their ballots. He said he figured the award would go to someone who played every day or nearly every day, pointing out that he and Tanner had judiciously picked his spots and as a result he played in just 126 games. Since he had finished second twice before when he figured he might win, he said he wasn’t getting his hopes up for this particular season but he certainly appreciated it. “I’m pleased with the award, don’t get me wrong,” he said, “but I wasn’t revved up about it.”5
It wouldn’t be Stargell’s last award that off-season. Sports Illustrated selected Stargell and another of Pittsburgh’s star athletes—Steelers quarterback Terry Bradshaw—as co–Sportsman of the Year. It was a choice that made all Pittsburghers proud, including one of Bradshaw’s high-profile teammates. “That was so exciting,” former Steeler running back Franco Harris said in an interview in 2011. “Talk about the City of Champions—that really solidified that. The championships that we won during the 1970s really started a whole new era in Pittsburgh sports that still continues today. And there’s no doubt that Willie’s spirit is a big part of that. He definitely had an impact on our city, on the culture and the personality of our city. And he will always be remembered.” Harris, who joined the Steelers in 1972 as a highly touted running back from Penn State, said he spoke with Stargell from time to time during his stay in Pittsburgh, which ended after the 1983 season. “I didn’t have the opportunity to spend a lot of time with Willie, but I always enjoyed the time that we were together. He was a very insightful person about so many things. And it was always interesting to talk with him. When I first came into the city, I would tell people I really had some great role models to look up to that really helped set the stage for myself. And Willie was definitely one of the people that had a great influence on me and my community involvement. It was what he did and also in what he said. One of the things he told me was, ‘You know what, Franco? Wherever you go, in whatever your actions are, always picture your little brother by your side. And do the things that you would do with your little brother by your side. I think that’s a very good principle and I use that in talking with athletes today.”6
Stargell also was named the Dapper Dan Man of the Year for 1979—the award is considered the city of Pittsburgh’s most prestigious sports award. “I’m going to need another house to keep all these awards in,” Stargell said—and that was before he collected the Sports Illustrated and Dapper Dan honors.7 In addition to the awards and the travel to spread the word about sickle cell anemia, Stargell also squeezed in a trip to Hawaii with his teammates, members of the Baltimore Orioles and the NFL’s top two teams—the Steelers and the Los Angeles Rams—to film an ABC television show known as “Superteams.” Players competed against one another in a series of athletic competitions; the show was a spinoff from the original “Superstars” series, which pitted individual athletes from various sports against one another.
The winter eventually gave way to spring, and Stargell joined his defending world champion teammates in Bradenton to prepare for another season. While Stargell found his off-season exploits “exhilarating,” he also conceded that the constant activity left him worn down—and that was before the season even started. The interview requests in spring training became so numerous that he took to writing stock answers to questions that he knew he’d be asked—and posted the answers at his locker. Still, he managed to get off to a fine start. After his first 34 games of the season, through June 13, the reigning league co–MVP was batting .310, with nine home runs and 31 RBIs in 113 at-bats. But he did not homer again that month and drove in just three runs during that stretch, while his average plummeted to .255. A pulled hamstring on June 19 was the main culprit, and the injury restricted him to mostly pinch-hitting for nearly a month. Ultimately, he wound up on the disabled list and did not appear in a game from July 7 through the end of the month. In the midst of that stretch, he was saluted in the first of two Willie Stargell Days—this one on July 20 at Three Rivers Stadium against the Los Angeles Dodgers. He was showered with gifts and well-wishes in an emotional ceremony. He cried when his teammates came out in a group to honor him and when the Dodgers players lined up to shake his hand. The ceremony was punctuated by an unforgettable scene—Stargell’s father, William, being brought out onto the field in a wheelchair, and father and son exchanging a long, tearful hug. Stargell broke down while trying to speak and sobbed, “I’m doing the best I can.”8
Willie receives congratulations from an adoring Three Rivers Stadium crowd during the first of two days honoring him—this one on July 20, 1980 (courtesy Pittsburgh Pirates).
Stargell used the opportunity to publicize his foundation’s fundraising efforts in the area of sickle cell anemia. A committee of the slugger’s friends established a goal of raising $500,000 for the foundation, and the group commissioned artist Leroy Neiman to do an oil painting of Stargell and produce 300 serigraph prints, each of which would be sold for $2,500. Stargell had high hopes for the project and planned to use the proceeds to buy an existing building that would serve as the foundation’s home. “I think we need a permanent place with the right amount of footage,” he said.9
Pittsburgh Pirates broadcaster Lanny Frattare addresses a packed Three Rivers Stadium crowd that turned out to honor Willie on July 20, 1980. On hand to share in the moment were members of Willie’s family and several Pittsburgh luminaries, including Steelers’ great Franco Harris (third from left) (courtesy Pittsburgh Pirates).
Ironically, on the day that Pirates fans saluted Stargell, one of them used the occasion to fire a two-inch, nine-volt radio battery in the direction of his teammate, Parker. The battery missed Parker and bounced some 200 feet off the Three Rivers Stadium artificial turf. This was not an isolated incident; during the home opener in April, someone threw a bag of tightly wrapped nuts and bolts at Parker, who was earning a reported $1 million annual salary. “I could hear it go by me,” Parker said later of the battery. “It was too close for comfort.” Parker was removed from the game and GM Peterson warned the f
ans that if a similar event occurred again, he’d take his team off the field and forfeit the game. “The Pirate management is sick and tired of these acts, admittedly performed by a handful of our spectators,” Peterson said in a statement.10
The day honoring Stargell prompted him to look ahead just slightly, although as he put it, “I don’t like to plan my destiny. There’s so much that can happen. I don’t want to hope that I can go out hitting a home run to win a ballgame, because when you plan something like that, all you do is disappoint yourself.”11 But, he said, when his playing days ended he wanted to stay in the game. Specifically, he said he wanted to work as a special front-office assistant, with an emphasis on tutoring the younger talent in an organization. He envisioned spending time as a traveling instructor in the minor leagues, working in both the fall instructional and winter leagues and also spending 40 to 50 days a year with the major league team. But he still had a ways to go as a player. He appeared in 17 games in the month of August, but he injured his left knee while diving to stop a line drive off the bat of the Mets’ Steve Henderson on August 12, an injury that forced him back on the disabled list later in the month and ultimately resulted in arthroscopic knee surgery that put him out for the year. The Pirates, meanwhile, finished the 1980 season a disappointing 83–79 and in third place in the NL East—a far cry from the glorious ’79 campaign.
Willie Stargell Page 20