He called on his pinch-hitter extraordinary, James (Dusty) Rhodes, to bat for Monte Irvin. Lemon served one pitch. Rhodes, a left-hander, swung down the right-field foul line.
The ball had just enough carry to clear the wall barely 270 feet away. But it was enough to produce an electrifying three-run homer that enabled the Giants to bring down Al Lopez’ Indians, 5 to 2.
Then, in the eighth, Wertz connected for another tremendous drive that went down the center of the field 459 feet, only to have Willie Mays make one of his most amazing catches.
Traveling on the wings of the wind, Willie caught the ball in front of the right-center bleachers with his back to the diamond.
And in the 10th it was Willie the Wonder who set the stage for Rhodes’s game-winning homer. With one out, Mays drew his second walk of the day.
Then, with Lemon pitching carefully to Henry Thompson, Willie stole second. Up went Dusty. An instant later he leaned into the first pitch and produced a shot that doubtless was heard around the world, though for distance it likely could go as one of the shortest homers in World Series history.
Opening Day at Ebbets Field: Dodgers Triumph Over Reds, 6-1
By ROSCOE MCGOWEN | August 27, 1939
PENNANT FEVER HIT FLATBUSH WHEN 33,535 of the most hopeful fans in any major league city swarmed into Ebbets Field to see the double-header with the league-leading Reds. Their temperatures dropped a bit when Bill McKechnie’s men took the opener, 5-2, but rose again with a 6-1 Dodger triumph in the nightcap.
Bucky Walters, Dodger nemesis, allowed only two hits in annexing his 21st victory and his sixth straight over Brooklyn. Luke (Hot Potato) Hamlin, trying for No. 16, blew a 3-0 lead over Walters in the eighth and was knocked out, charged with his tenth loss.
In the nightcap Hugh Casey breezed through to his ninth triumph, aided by Dolf Camilli’s 22nd homer of the year off John Niggeling with Cookie Lavagetto aboard in the second frame. Dolf also contributed a scorching double in the third that knocked the veteran knuckleball hurler out.
The Dodgers scored four times in that frame, Lavagetto’s double driving in one run, Camilli’s another and Ernie Koy’s single off Whitey Moore bringing the other pair home. The one run off Casey, in the eighth, was unearned, Ival Goodman having been put on base by Camilli’s low throw to Casey. Singles by Frank McCormick and Nino Bongiovanni got Goodman across.
Walters’s pitching performance was one of his best, Babe Phelps getting the only clean hit off him, a line single off the right-field wall in the second, when the Dodgers scored both their runs. The other blow was a grounder by Dixie Walker in the first that hit Lavagetto on the baseline between first and second, thus becoming an automatic hit for Walker and an automatic out for Cookie.
A Second Plaque, A Larger Triumph
By DAVE ANDERSON | June 26, 2008
WHEN JACKIE ROBINSON WAS ON THE HALL of Fame ballot in 1962, he requested that the voters among the Baseball Writers Association of America judge him only as a player. He didn’t want his social significance as the modern major leagues’ first black player to be considered. Vote for him—or don’t vote for him—on his merits as a player, as all the other Hall of Famers from Babe Ruth and Cy Young had been measured.
When he was elected, the words on his bronze plaque at Cooperstown reflected his wishes.
Those words began, “Leading N.L. Batter in 1949,” and followed with his fielding and stolen base statistics, and then “Most Valuable Player in 1949. Lifetime Batting Average .311” before concluding with more fielding statistics.
Nice numbers. But over his 10 seasons with the Brooklyn Dodgers, Jackie Robinson was more than numbers to baseball and to America. Now a new plaque has been unveiled, reflecting that. It concludes with these words: “Displayed Tremendous Courage and Poise in 1947 When He Integrated the Modern Major Leagues in the Face of Intense Adversity.”
In a very real sense, Jackie Robinson also integrated America.
More than a decade before the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. put the phrase civil rights into the nation’s vocabulary, Jackie Robinson taught millions of baseball’s white fans that black was beautiful. That if they could root for Jackie and Roy Campanella, Don Newcombe, Willie Mays, Hank Aaron and Elston Howard, they could accept a black family in their neighborhood and black students in their schools.
As black players followed him into the majors, Robinson always checked them out. In 1954, before a spring training exhibition game in Mobile, Ala., with the Milwaukee Braves, he had his first look at a skinny 20-year-old rookie.
“See that kid,” I remember him telling me that day. “You’re going to be watching him for a long time.”
That kid was Hank Aaron, who would hit 755 home runs. Jackie Robinson knew a hitter when he saw one. But more than anyone else, he knew what it was like to have integrated the big leagues, if not America. And whether he likes it or not, what he did “in the face of intense adversity” is finally on his Hall of Fame plaque.
Jackie Robinson Signs with Dodgers, First Black Player in the Majors
By LOUIS EFFRAT | April 11, 1947
JACKIE ROBINSON, 28-YEAR-OLD INFIELDER, yesterday became the first Negro to achieve major-league baseball status in modern times. His contract was purchased from the Montreal Royals of the International League by the Dodgers and he will be in a Brooklyn uniform at Ebbets Field when the Brooks oppose the Yankees in the first of three exhibition games over the weekend.
A native of Georgia, Robinson won fame in baseball, football, basketball and track at the University of California at Los Angeles before entering the armed service as a private. He emerged a lieutenant in 1945 and in October of that year was signed to a Montreal contract. Robinson’s performance in the International League, which he led in batting last season with an average of .349, prompted President Branch Rickey of the Dodgers to promote Jackie.
The decision was made while Robinson was playing first base for Montreal against the Dodgers at Ebbets Field. Jackie was blanked at the plate and contributed little to his team’s 4-8 victory before 14,282 fans, but it was nevertheless a history-making day for the well-proportioned lad.
Jackie had just popped into a double-play, attempting to bunt in the fifth inning, when Arthur Mann, assistant to Rickey, appeared in the press box. He handed out a brief, typed announcement: “The Brooklyn Dodgers today purchased the contract of Jackie Roosevelt Robinson from the Montreal Royals.” Robinson will appear at the Brooklyn offices this morning to sign a contract.
According to the records, the last Negro to play in the majors was Moses Fleetwood Walker, who caught for Toledo of the American Association when that circuit enjoyed major-league classification in 1884.
The call for Robinson was no surprise. His path in the immediate future may not be too smooth, however. He may run into antipathy from Southerners who form about 60 per cent of the league’s playing strength. In fact, it is rumored that a number of Dodgers expressed themselves unhappy at the possibility of having to play with Jackie.
Jackie, himself, expects no trouble. He said he was “thrilled and it’s what I’ve been waiting for.” When his Montreal mates congratulated him and wished him luck, Robinson answered: “Thanks, I’ll need it.”
Dodgers Capture Their First World Series
By JOHN DREBINGER | October 5, 1955
The Dodgers celebrate after winning the 1955 World Series.
BROOKLYN’S LONG CHERISHED DREAM finally has come true. The Dodgers have won their first World Series championship.
Smokey Alston’s Brooks, with Johnny Podres tossing a brilliant shutout, turned back Casey Stengel’s Yankees, 2 to 0, in the seventh and deciding game of the 1955 baseball classic.
This gave the National League champions the series, 4 games to 3. As the jubilant victors almost smothered their 28-year-old left-handed pitcher from Witherbee, N.Y., a roaring crowd of 62,465 joined in sounding off a thunderous ovation. Not even the stanchest American League die-hard could begrudge Brooklyn its finest
hour.
Seven times in the past had the Dodgers been thwarted in their efforts to capture baseball’s most sought prize—the last five times by these same Bombers. When the goal finally was achieved the lid blew off in Brooklyn, while experts, poring into the records, agreed nothing quite so spectacular had been accomplished before. For this was the first time a team had won a seven-game world series after losing the first two games.
Podres, who had vanquished the Yankees in the third game as the series moved to Ebbets Field last Friday, became the first Brooklyn pitcher to win two games in one series.
Tommy Byrne, a seasoned campaigner who was the Yanks’ “comeback hero of the year,” carried the Bombers’ hopes in this dramatic struggle in which victory would have given them their 17th series title. But Byrne, whose southpaw slants had turned back the Dodgers in the second encounter, could not quite cope with the youngster pitted against him.
In the fourth inning a two-bagger by Roy Campanella and a single by Gil Hodges gave the Brooks their first run.
In the sixth a costly Yankee error helped fill the bases. It forced the withdrawal of Byrne, though in all he had given only three hits.
Stengel called on his right-handed relief hurler, Bob Grim.
Bob did well enough. But he couldn’t prevent Hodges from lifting a long sacrifice fly to center that drove in Pee Wee Reese with the Brooks’ second run of the day.
Fortified with this additional tally, Podres then blazed the way through a succession of thrills while a grim band of Dodgers fought with the tenacity of inspired men to hold the advantage to the end.
Fittingly, the final out was a grounder by Elston Howard to Reese, the 36-year-old shortstop and captain of the Flock. Ever since 1941 had the Little Colonel from Kentucky been fighting these Yankees. Five times had he been forced to accept the loser’s share.
Many a heart in the vast arena doubtless skipped a beat as Pee Wee scooped up the ball and fired it to first. It was a bit low and wide. But Hodges, the first sacker, reached out and grabbed it inches off the ground. Gil would have stretched halfway across the Bronx for that one.
Dodgers and Giants Can Move to California
By JOSEPH M. SHEEHAN | May 29, 1957
Fans rally outside the clubhouse after the final game played by the New York Giants at the Polo Grounds on September 29, 1957.
THE BROOKLYN DODGERS AND THE NEW YORK Giants received permission from the National League to switch their respective bases of operation to Los Angeles and San Francisco.
The permission, granted unanimously by the other club owners at the league’s mid-season meeting here, was conditional on two items that continued to leave room for conjecture that there might be a shift as soon as next season.
The approval in advance of the transfers was predicated on these points:
That the Giants and Dodgers request the shifts before October 1, 1957.
That they make the moves together.
If these conditions are met, Warren C. Giles, the president of the National League, is empowered by the action taken today to approve the transfer applications. If one club wants to move and one wants to stay, the league would have to reconsider, Giles said.
Walter F. O’Malley, the president of the Dodgers, and Horace C. Stoneham, the president of the Giants, both emphasized that it still was far from definite that they would move their clubs. While listening with an attentive ear to the blandishments of Los Angeles, the Dodger president still is on record as hoping that the long-stalled campaign to build a new, downtown Brooklyn stadium for the Dodgers will get off the ground.
Brooklyn Is Trying to Forget Dodgers and Baseball
By GAY TALESE | May 18, 1958
The Ebbets Field Houses now stand on the site of the old stadium.
BROOKLYN, ONCE DESCRIBED AS THE WORLD’S largest city with no railroad, no daily newspaper and no left fielder, now is the nation’s leading producer of an unpatented item called The Bitter Baseball Fan—an individual dedicated to blaming the Dodgers for every stolen wallet, every head cold and every parking ticket in Flatbush.
The Dodgers’ once-faithful multitude in Brooklyn is still frustrated and seething over the team’s shift to Los Angeles. Boris Karloff has more fan clubs in Brooklyn now than Walter O’Malley, the Dodgers’ president.
A Los Angeles Dodger business executive who still works in Ebbets Field these days says he sees Brooklyn fans walking by slowly and sadly. Sometimes, he says, they look up at his open window and yell. “Hey, when you going to burn this place down?”
As quickly as possible, Brooklyn seems to want to forget all about the Dodgers. On Friday night at the Ball Field Tavern on Bedford Avenue, where Dodger fans used to abound, the drinkers watched Jerry Lewis on Channel 4 rather than the Dodgers-Cardinals game on Channel 13.
Although the Dodgers will be as close as Philadelphia next Sunday, Brooklyn fans generally are disinterested.
“We’ll be lucky to get 100 Brooklyn people into Connie Mack Stadium that day,” said the Phillies’ ticket manager. An organization attempting to lure Brooklyn into Philadelphia by bus (at $9.99 round trip, including ticket) yesterday had reservations for barely one busload.
Hilda Chester, once the loudest of Brooklyn barkers, said she wouldn’t be caught dead in Philadelphia next Sunday.
The Dodger Sym-Phoney Band will be there to boo the Dodgers and play a funeral march.
“They’re in last place and we’re going to bury them,” said Lou Soriano, the snare drummer. “We’re tickled pink they’re last.”
Another Year Without The Dodgers
By LEONARD KOPPETT | April 2, 1972
THERE WAS A TIME WHEN THE WORDS “Opening Day” needed no elaboration, least of all in Brooklyn. They meant the first official game of a new major league baseball season would be played that day, one year in Ebbets Field, the next somewhere else.
Another National League baseball season is about to start, although the New York area representative, the Mets, will not return to Shea Stadium in Queens until a few days later. And the phrase “Opening Day” is likely to elicit the response “of what?”
Contemplate, for a moment, opening day in Brooklyn 25 years ago: April 15, 1947.
It’s a clear, brisk day. About 26,000 people have come to the 32,000-seat park to see the Dodgers play the Boston Braves.
It’s a historic occasion. The Dodger first baseman is Jackie Robinson, about to play his first major league game. He will be the first Negro (it was considered insulting then to call him a “black”) to play in the majors since the 1880’s.
But this is not, actually, the main topic of conversation. The big issue is Leo Durocher. Only a week before, the always controversial, abrasive, fast-talking Dodger manager had been suspended for the year by Commissioner Happy Chandler. The Dodgers still have no regular manager—Clyde Sukeforth is in charge. Joe McCarthy has rejected an offer and Branch Rickey, the boss, won’t settle on Burt Sutton until later in the week.
The Dodgers win that day, 5-3, and there is joy in Flatbush. With Robinson and Eddie Stanky on base, Pistol Pete Reiser hit a double just inside the right-field foul pole, the ball hitting the screen. Reiser scored later in the inning on Gene Hermanski’s long fly ball, and Johnny Sain found himself the losing pitcher.
Hal Gregg, who had been the losing pitcher on opening day against the Braves the year before, was the winning pitcher in relief in this game, which got the Dodgers off to a fast start in quest of the National League pennant.
They won the pennant, all right, but they lost the World Series in seven games to the Yankees of the contemptible Bronx.
The Game Is Back in Brooklyn, But on a Smaller Scale
By ANDY NEWMAN | June 23, 2001
THE SLAVIN BROTHERS, IRISH BOYS FROM THE neighborhood, were discussing the topic of the day at Farrell’s tavern in Windsor Terrace.
“It’s the best thing that ever happened to Brooklyn,” said John, 49. “Now we have something to call our own. It’s not hard to get to
, the seats are cheap.”
Mike Slavin, 38, was not convinced. “Single-A, though,” he reminded his older brother. “It’s like high school baseball.”
“Come on, Mikey,” John Slavin said. “Lee Mazzilli played around here and came up through the minors. John Candelaria used to pitch at the Parade Grounds. Maybe we have a chance that some kid from the neighborhood, from Brooklyn, is going to make it through the system.”
Let the economists grumble that $39 million—the amount Rudolph W. Giuliani, in the soft twilight of his mayoralty, lavished on a minor-league stadium in Coney Island—would have been better spent on an industrial park. Let Brooklyn’s own borough president fume that the city would have been far better served by playing fields for high school and college teams.
All of that, for the moment, is beside the point. People are talking baseball in Brooklyn again.
Maybe not Willie, Mickey and the Duke. But a professional baseball pitcher is about to dig his spikes into Brooklyn soil for the first time since 1957.
The team is called the Cyclones. Brooklyn Dodger fans may need to ratchet down their expectations a notch. “These guys are not a championship major-league team,” said Jeffrey S. Wilpon, the chief operating officer of the team. “We hope to fill a little bit of that void for people who just want to hear the sound of the bat on the ball and see kids hustling.”
It is little wonder, then, that the Brooklyn Dodger generation harbors mixed feelings about the second coming of baseball. On a recent evening, a lone man in a baseball cap stood outside the new stadium, peering through the fence. He was Eli Miller, one of the city’s last surviving seltzer deliverymen, and he was torn.
With one breath, Mr. Miller, 63, said of the Cyclones, “As a Dodger fan, I feel it’s a bad substitute for a team. Brooklyn deserves a major-league team.” With the next, he acknowledged that he had been coming to the site for months to check on its progress. “Just out of curiosity, I might go to a few games.”
The New York Times Book of New York Page 58