#38 Burleigh Grimes

Born in rural Wisconsin in 1893, Burleigh Grimes wound up developing one of the game's most devastating spitballs as well as one of the game's a reputation as one of the games toughest players.
The son of a farmer, Grimes went to work at a young age at a lumberyard, where an accident almost cost him his life. He had a large pile of lumber fall on him, but he somehow emerged relatively unscathed. At 13, while attending a minor league baseball game in St Paul, he was enamored by a spitballer playing for Minneapolis, and was determined to replicate the pitch. In 1912, he signed with Eau Claire in Class D baseball, but the league folded. He moved to Ottumwa in 1913, and was signed by the Detroit Tigers. He was quite successful in the next few seasons, moving from Chattanooga to Birmingham, and in 1916 his contract was purchased by the Pittsburgh Pirates. He completed 4 of his five starts with Pittsburgh, and expectations were high. However, in 1917, he had a rough season, going 3-16. Pittsburgh dealt him to Brooklyn in the off-season, and that was where Burleigh Grimes became one of the best pitchers in the National League.
In nine seasons with Brooklyn, he won 20 games 4 times and fell one win short in a fifth. In 1920, Brooklyn won their first pennant as Grimes went 23-11 with a 2.22 ERA. He was not as effective in the World Series, winning one game but losing two, including the seventh and deciding game. He also gave up a grand slam to Cleveland's Elmer Smith, the first slam in World Series history.
After a couple of mediocre seasons, Brooklyn dealt Grimes to the Giants. Grimes went 19-8, but was at odds all season long with McGraw, who was as strong-willed and rough-and-tumble as Grimes. He was dealt back to Pittsburgh in 1928, where he enjoyed two of his best seasons (25-14, 2.99 ERA in 1928, and 17-7 with a 3.13 ERA in 1929). However, Grimes' personality allowed Grimes to wear out his welcome, despite his overall effectiveness. From 1930 to 1934, he went from Pittsburgh to Boston to St Louis to Chicago back to St Louis to the New York Yankees and back to Pittsburgh. In 1934, at the age of 40, Grimes was released and his career ended with 270 wins.
Grimes legacy consists of two aspects: his spitball and his toughness. Using slippery elm, his spitball would break 6-8 inches when he has it going on. He went to his mouth on every pitch so hitters wouldn't know when to expect it, but he also had a decent repertoire of other pitches to complement it. In 1919, major league baseball decided to outlaw the spitball, and 22 pitchers, including Grimes, were permitted to throw the pitch legally for one for season, and after that season, would have to rely on other pitches. Grimes and another spitballer, Bill Doak, petitioned the powers-that-be to allow them to continue to use their bread-and-butter pitches for the remainder of their career. After the 1920 season, 17 pitchers, with Grimes and Doak among them, were permitted to throw the spitball until the retired. Grimes, upon his retirement in 1934, was the last major league pitcher to legally throw a spitball.
Grimes toughness as a competitor is legendary. He would not shave for two days before a start, giving him a dark and sinister scowl that intimidated almost every batter who stepped into the box. He was known for throwing at players, either at their head, behind their head, or at any other part of the body he felt okay to do so. He had a long-running feud with Frankie Frisch, which started when Frisch spiked Grimes in a play at first base in 1919. Every time those two faced each other for the next 10+ years, Frisch knew he was getting at least two pitches thrown at his head.
After his playing days ended, Grimes moved quickly into managing. He managed in the minor leagues before getting a job at the helm of the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1937, where he managed through 1938. Grimes toughness and temperament were still with him as a manager, indicated in an incident in 1938 when he was giving a critique to young Brooklyn pitcher, stating that he thought the youngster lacked confidence when getting in a jam. The young hurler got snippy, telling Burleigh that if Grimes "wasn't such an old man", he would.... well, the kid's comment was interrupted by Grimes' fist.
He would never return to manage in the big leagues again, but managed around the Midwest in the minor leagues through 1954, with a few interruptions filled with scouting duties. He scouted for the Yankees, Athletics and Orioles through 1971, when he retired.
Grimes was elected to the Hall of Fame in 1964. He wisely invested his salaries from his playing days, and was a very successful rancher and farmer, owning a 230 acre farm near St Louis for years, before moving a little further north in Missouri to a 545 acre farm. He returned to Wisconsin to live out the remainder of his days, and died in December of 1985 at the age of 92 after suffering from cancer. He had no children and was survived by his fifth wife, Lillian (33 years his junior).
I always enjoyed reading about Grimes, and the stories of his toughness are legendary. Despite his mean disposition on the diamond, his teammates, opponents, friends and neighbors all had nothing bad to say about him off the field. He was a very friendly and good-hearted man by all accounts. I was always fascinated by Game 5 of the 1920 World Series, the game in which Grimes not only gave up the grand slam to Elmer Smith but also the first World Series home run by a pitcher (Jim Bagby). The game also featured an unassisted triple play by Cleveland's Bill Wambsganss. I have stated time and time again that if I could hop on a time machine and witness one game, that would be the game. I had corresponded with Grimes and Wambsganss on and off for a couple of years in the early 1980's. I remember the news of Grimes' death like it was yesterday. It was a cold Michigan evening, and my father and I were coming from somewhere, listening to the news on the car radio. They gave a teaser that two of baseball's legends had died, and then went to commercials. We sat in the car, waiting for the commercials to end to get the names. My dad guessed one had to be Roger Maris, who was suffering from cancer. I somehow just knew it was Grimes and Wamby. I was right. Both had died just two days apart. This really saddened me, because they both were such great men, and the more-notable 1920 World Series participants had been passing away in recent months (aside from Grimes and Wamby in December of '85, Joe Wood had passed that July, and Elmer Smith and Stan Coveleski the year before). To this day, I find the 1920 World Series to be one of the most compelling. (For what it is worth, Maris did die later that same week.)

The Autograph: Despite his crankiness, Grimes was a great signer through the mail. I got him more than a few times. He always had a nice bold signature, not as shaky as you would expect from a guy with his advanced age and illness. He eventually did shorten his signature to the "B.A. Grimes" that you see on the card above, but most of my samples have the complete "Burleigh A. Grimes".

Below: Mr. and Mrs. Grimes at home.

#36 Buck Leonard

Walter "Buck" Leonard was born in 1907 in Rocky Mount, North Carolina. He was unable to attend high school as black were not allowed to in the South at that time. His father, John, died in the influenza epidemic, and Buck was forced to go to work to support his family. He went to work in a textile mill and later as a railroad station shoeshine boy. He played some semi-pro baseball at this time, but when he lost his railroad job, he signed with the Brooklyn Royal Giants in the Negro Leagues. From there, he moved to the legendary Homestead Grays where he became the greatest first baseman in the Negro Leagues. He was a teammate of Josh Gibson, and the two sluggers were dubbed "The Thunder Twins" and were compared to their white Yankee contemporaries, Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig. During World War 2, Leonard lead the Grays to four-consecutive Black World Series appearances.
In the years before Jackie Robinson's days with the Dodgers, Leonard, along with Gibson, was approached by Washington Senators owner Clark Griffith about signing with the AL team. Griffith wound up getting cold feet about being the first team to sign black players, and relented. Shortly after Robinson's debut with Brooklyn, St Louis owner Bill Veeck offered a contract to Leonard, but at 40 years of age, Leonard turned him down, claiming he was to old to play in the Major Leagues.
After the Grays disbanded, Leonard played from 1951-55 in the Mexican League, interrupted by a brief appearance with Portsmouth in the Piedmont League. This stint was Leonard's only appearance in organized baseball. (The Negro Leagues, with its haphazard scheduling and record keeping, is not recognized by professional baseball as "organized").
After Leonard's final game in Mexico at 48 years of age, he returned to Rocky Mount, where he worked as a truant officer and later a gym teacher. He was elected into the Hall of Fame in 1972. Leonard suffered a stroke in 1986, and he was forced to learn to write with his other hand. He was a regular fixture at Negro League events through the 1980's and 90's, and enjoyed years of recognition and adulation (including being the honorary captain for the NL in the 1994 All-Star Game) before dying in 1997 at the age of 90.
The Autograph: This is a good example of his post-stroke autograph. Pre-stroke autographs are not hard to find, but they are definitely not as common as the later versions. He did a lot of card shows over the years, and also was very generous in his through-the-mail habits.

#35 Carl Hubbell

Born in 1903 in Carthage, Missouri, Carl Hubbell came to the major leagues later than most star players, but when he arrived, he made an impact on the game the few would ever make.
Hubbell was a star pitcher in high school, as the left-hander had a good fastball and curveball. After graduation, he pitched in the Oklahoma State League for a few years, and after 1925 his contract was purchased by the Detroit Tigers. By this time, he was developing a pitch that broke the opposite way as a conventional curveball. The pitch, now known as the "screwball" but in earlier years made famous by Christy Mathewson as the "fadeaway," was thrown by twisting the wrist in the opposite direction. Ty Cobb, the player/manager for the Tigers at the time, forbid the youngster from throwing the pitch, claiming he would hurt his arm. Without his best pitch, Hubbell faltered in spring training and was shipped out by the Tigers to the minor leagues.
While pitching in Beaumont, Texas, Hubbell was permitted to throw the screwball, and he quickly became a dominant pitcher in the league, and was purchased by the New York Giants and John McGraw. Hubbell joined the Giants in mid-1928 at age 25, and quickly made an impact, winning 10 games and posting a 2.83 ERA. In the next four seasons, he won no less than 14 games in a season, and quickly became the ace of the Giants. In 1933, he won 23 games and posted a 1.66 ERA, winning the NL MVP award and leading the Giants to a World Championship. This was the first of 5 consecutive seasons of 20 wins, including 1936 when he lead the Giants to another pennant with a 26-6 record and a 2.31 ERA, winning his second MVP award. The Giants returned to the World Series in 1937 as Hubbell went 22-8. In 1938, Hubbell was slowed by arm trouble, having bone chips removed from his elbow. Now 35, his career was in decline, but still showed occasional signs of brilliance, including a few one-hitters. Hubbell's career, 16 years in all, came to an end in 1943 at the age of 40. He won 253 games with a .622 winning percentage, and a career 2.98 ERA.
After his retirement, Hubbell was elected to the Hall of Fame in 1947. He became the director of the Giants farm system until a stroke in 1977. He retired to Arizona, where he lived the remainder of his life. He died in November of 1988 as the result of injuries suffered in an automobile accident. Carl Hubbell, the "Meal Ticket," was 85.
Of course, it would be tough to discuss Hubbell without mentioning the 1934 All-Star Game. King Carl turned in one of the most memorable performance in baseball history, striking out five of baseball's legendary players in succession: Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, Jimmie Foxx, Al Simmons and Joe Cronin. This single event is what makes Carl Hubbell's name familiar to casual fans of the game today.
In 1985, my parents dispatched me across the country from Detroit to Phoenix to visit with my best friend, whose family moved out there a few years earlier. At 14, it was fun to travel by myself. I felt very adult. While in Phoenix, me and my friend Paul tried to contact Carl Hubbell to see if we could stop by and visit (helived in nearby Mesa). I spoke to him on the phone, but he said he didn't feel up to accepting visitors. Oh well, worth a shot.
The autograph: Hubbell autographed everything. As I overheard some autograph hound claim, in jest but probably in truth as well, Hubbell "would sign toilet paper if you sent it to him."


Below, Hubbell throws out the first pitch at the 1984 All-Star Game. Below that, Hubbell stops by the locker room to talk with Juan Marichal.

#33 Billy Herman

William Jennings Bryan Herman was born in New Albany, Indiana in 1909, and broke in with the Chicago Cubs in 1931, where he became a fixture at second base for many years to come. He batted .314 in his first full season as the Cubs won the 1932 pennant. 1934 was the first of 8 seasons that saw Herman selected to the National League All-Star team, and he was one of the most reliable players in the senior circuit. In 1935, he had a league-best 227 hits and 57 doubles as the Cubs rolled to another pennant, but lost the World Series again.
By 1940, Herman's numbers began to wane, and he saw himself traded to the Brooklyn Dodgers for Charlie Gilbert and John Hudson. Aided by a depleted talent pool due to World War 2, Herman rebounded in 1943 to hit .330 (2nd in the NL) but next season, at age 34, he joined the military and missed 1944 and '45.
At 36 years of age, it was unexpected that Herman would return from the war as a player, but he played most of 1946, splitting time between Brooklyn and the Boston Braves, playing second, third and first base. He batted a respectable .298. He was traded to Pittsburgh before the 1947 season, and was named player-manager, although he played in only 15 games hitting a paltry .213. He was also relieved of managerial duties before the end of the season as the Pirates went 61-92 under his leadership. It was not his last day on the bench, but his days at the plater were over. His career totals include a lifetime .304 average and over 2300 hits.
Herman moved on to manage in the minor leagues for a few seasons, until he was brought on by the Dodgers as a coach in 1952, followed by the Milwaukee Braves in 1958. In 1960, he became the third base coach for the Boston Red Sox, and in 1964, was named the Red Sox manager for the last two games of the season as the Sox fired Johnny Pesky. The Red Sox fared no better under Herman in 1965, as they lost 100 games and the Sox finished in 9th. Herman was fired partly through the 1966 season.

Billy Herman was elected into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1975 by the Veterans Comittee. He died in 1992 of cancer.

The Autograph: Herman was a regular through-the-mail signer, as well as a frequent signer at Hall of Fame ceremonies, spring training and conventions. His autograph is very common.

#31 George Kelly

George "Highpockets" Kelly was born in 1895 in San Francisco, California. A survivor of the 1906 Earthquake, Kelly was a big fan of the Bay City's PCL club, the Seals. This was an inspiration as he played baseball frequently in his childhood. As a 6'4 teenager, Kelly quickly moved ahead of his classmates, and his natural hitting ability caught the attention of semi-pro clubs around Frisco and Oakland. Fresh out of high school, Kelly signed with Victoria in the NorthWest League in 1915 and quickly caught the attention of John McGraw, manager of the New York Giants. The Giants bought his contract and he was called up to the Giants for a look in late 1915.
After poor performances in limited action for the Giants in 1915 and 1916, Kelly was waived by the Giants shortly into the 1917 season. He was picked up by the Pirates, but faired no better and was let go. McGraw decided to give Kelly another chance, and signed him and sent him to Rochester for the remainder of the 1917 season. Kelly was called on to fight in World War One, and missed the 1918 season. Upom his return to Rochester in 1919, Kelly made the most of his time there and tore up the International League, hitting .356 and 15 home runs. He was poised to return to the National League, but it took a dirty player for him to get his chance.
Hal Chase was the full-time first sacker for the Giants in 1919, and was regarded at the time as the best defensive first baseman the game had ever seen. Chase was no slack at the plate. However, his skill on the field was no match for his lack of moral fiber. Rumors had been floating for years that Chase's ability was "for sale" and was willing to make some side money by throwing games. Rumors had been flying about Chase's corruption as early as 1910. By 1919, the stink surrounding Prince Hal had grown strong, and McGraw called up Kelly to be groomed as Chase's replacement. Kelly responded by hitting .290 in 32 games. After the season, the National League President received an envelope from an anonymous contact, showing a payment from a gambler to Chase to throw a baseball game in 1918. The Giants terminated Chase's contract, and Chase never played in the Major Leagues again.
Kelly became the Giants full-time first baseman in 1920, and lead the league in RBI. He followed that up with a home-run title in 1921, helping the Giants to their first of 4 straight pennants. For the next six seasons, Kelly was the best first baseman in the National League, and one of the game's premier sluggers.
After the 1926 season, he was traded to the Cincinnati Reds for Edd Roush. Although his power numbers were off, mostly due to the change of parks, Kelly still batted around .300 over the next four years, splitting 1930 with the Reds, Cubs, and Minneapolis in the International League. He spent 1931 in the minor leagues, before returning to the National League in 1932, this time with the Brooklyn Dodgers. He was released by the Dodgers following the close of the season, and Kelly headed back west. He played sparingly with the Oakland Oaks of the PCL in 1933 before hanging his glove up for good. Kelly finished his 16-year career with a .297 lifetime average and 1020 RBI.
Kelly bounced around the National League for the next 14 years, picking up coaching jobs for old friends, and after that became a scout for the Reds. He lived in retirement in Millbrae, California. Kelly was elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1973, and died in 1984 at the age of 88.

Kelly is often maligned as being one of the worst Hall of Fame selections. Sometimes I think that members of the Veterans Committee thought they were voting for third baseman George Kell (a deserving candidate). He may be one of the weakest selections, but the thing that annoys me most about Kelly being in the Hall of Fame is that he is often posted as the argument for other non-HOF caliber athletes to be inducted (see Hodges, Gil). It is not worth my typing to discuss Kelly's Hall of Fame credentials (or lack thereof). He is in, and he is never getting out. Let's not repeat the mistake by letting in other not-quite-qualified players. Oops. We already did (See Rizzuto, Phil).

The Autograph: Always a great signer. I don't have a lot of Kelly because he died early in my hobby.

#29 Stan Coveleski

Born Stanislaus Kowalewski in 1889 in the heart of anthracite country, Stan Coveleski spent his early teen years in the coal mines near Shamokin, Pennsylvania. Working 12 hours a day, six days a week, Coveleski's only recreation during his off-time was throwing rocks at tin cans. After a while, he said, he got so good he could do it blindfolded. When the local school's baseball coach heard about his skill, they asked him is he would like to exchange the rock with a baseball. He was one of five brothers born to his Polish-born parents, four of which played professional baseball. The oldest, Jacob, was killed in the Spanish-American War in 1898. Frank pitched some before rheumatism ended his career. John was a third baseman and an outfielder who never made it out of the minor leagues. That leaves Harry and Stan. Harry Coveleski shaped the 1908 National League pennant race. While with the Phillies, he beat the Giants three times in the last 8 days of the season, probably more at blame for the Giants pennant swoon than Fred Merkle's legendary base-running gaffe. Harry wound up winning 20 games three times for the Tigers in the early 1910's.
After playing around Shamokin, Stan signed with Lancaster in 1909 for $250 a month, a nice raise from his current job of cutting timber, which paid $40 a month. He went 23-11 in his first season with Lancaster, hurling 272 innings. In 1912, he moved to Atlantic City, and his 20 wins there caught the attention of Connie Mack of the Philadlphia Athletics. After a short stint with the Athletics, who had a deep pitching staff at the time, Coveleski was sent to Spokane (Wash.) in the Northwest League for some seasoning. In 1914, Coveleski wa traded for five players to Portland in the PCL. It was in Portland that Coveleski learned a new pitch, a pitch that would make him a Hall of Famer.
Already armed with a good fastball, curve, and off-speed pitch, Coveleski began to fool around with the spitball. The "spitball" is a generic term for a pitch where the ball has been doctored. That can be either a substance used to change to grip or rotation, or scuffed up to get different breaking action. This type of pitch was very legal in the early days of the sport, and those that mastered it counted on it as much as any other "out" pitch. And Coveleski quickly developed one of the best the game has ever seen. He tried out with tobacco juice first, but Iron Joe McGinnity, a spitballer who won an American League record 41 games for the New York Higlanders (aka Yankees) in 1904, suggested he use alum instead. Coveleski kept alum in his mouth while on the mound, and the gummy residue gave his ball some action that was incredibly difficult to hit.
After the 1915 season in Portland, Coveleski was sold to the Cleveland Indians, where he won 15 games in 1916. He won 19 games in 1917, and 1918 was the beginning of four-straight seasons of at least 22 wins.
In 1920, the Indians were set to be in a season-long battle for the pennant. The New York Yankees were in the thick of things for the first time, thanks to their newest acquisition, Babe Ruth. The Chicago White Sox were as good as ever, for most of the team was inspired by the defeat in the World Series before and the rumors that the 1919 Series had been fixed. But the Indians overcame a series of tragedies to win their first pennant and World Championship in one of the greatest pennant races ever.
Cleveland Indian shortstop Ray Chapman was killed in August when a Carl Mays pitched struck him in the head, fracturing his skull. As bad as that was, for Coveleski, it was only an additional event to an already sad season. In May of that year, his wife Mary had died suddenly. Although she had been ill, her health had not deteriorated to where her death was expected. He left the team for a week before returning.
That year Coveleski won 24 games with a heavy heart, while Jim Bagby won 31. That one-two punch carried the Indians to the World Series, but it was Coveleski who was the hero. Coveleski won three games in that World Series, going the distance in all three games he pitched. Only Mickey Lolich has thrown three complete game World Series wins since (1968).
Prior to the 1920 season, the rules of baseball were modified and the spitball was banned. However, 17 pitchers who relied on the pitch were permitted to through the pitch that season, to give them a chance to adapt their skills to other pitchers. However, after the season, it was decided that rather than force these guys to change their abilities, they were allowed to throw the pitch for the remainder of their career. When Burleigh Grimes retired in 1934, he was the last man to legally throw a spitball in the major leagues.
Coveleski's career showed a slight decline after 1921, and after a mediocre season in 1924, Coveleski, now 35, was traded to the Washington Senators. He rebounded in 1925, going 20-5 with an AL-best 2.84 ERA, but the end of the road was quickly approaching. After two more seasons of decline, he was released by the Senators in 1927. He signed with the Yankees and pitched briefly in 1928, but upon his release was the end of Coveleski's days on the mound. He won 216 games in a career that essentially began at 26, with a .602 winning percentage.
Now re-married, to his deceased wife's sister Frances, Coveleski moved his family to South Bend, Indiana. He owned and operated a gas station there, and bought a house that he would live in for over 50 years. The gas station failed in the Depression, so Coveleski retired and would spend the remainder of his days fishing and hunting.
He was elected into the Hall of Fame in 1969, and was a fixture around South Bend. He fell ill with cancer in the early 1980's, and succumbed to the disease in March of 1984, at 94 years of age.

I am a big fan of Stan Coveleski. I was able to write him in the waning years of his life, and also corrosponded with his son, Bill, after Stan's death. Unfortunately, Bill himself died not long after Stan did. A lot of things draw me to Stan. I admire his blue-collar work ethic and his skill. Like him, I am of Polish ancestory, and there are Kowalewski's in my family bloodline, and both our families came over to the in a similar era. Anyone I talk to who knew him say he was exactly what you hope your favorite athelete would be like. He always signed autographs, answered questions, and loved to talk about the game, although he was also quiet and stoic. Bill told me that even as the cancer got really bad, on his good days he would just sit and sign Hall of Fame postcards by the dozens in case he is unable to sign future autograph requests, or in case he gets fan mail after his death. I regret not writing him earlier, he really sounded like an interesting man.

The minor league park in South Bend is named for Coveleski. Known as the "The Cove," the home of the Silver Hawks is the grandfather of the modern ballpark, designed by the same architectural firm that has done Camden Yards and Jacobs Field.

The Autograph: His autograph is in good supply. I have a lot in my collection. This card, among many others. I have Hall of Fame Postcards, photographs, even a signed baseball.

Below is the Lancaster team, circa 1909. Coveleski can be seen in the top row, fourth from the left.

#28 Charlie Gehringer

Charlie Gehringer was born in 1903 in the small farming community of Fowlerville, Michigan. He attended the University of Michigan for a year, before being spotted by Detroit Tiger's former outfielder Bobby Veach, who recommended his friend and Tiger manager Ty Cobb sign him. Gehringer left school and in 1924, made his debut with the Tigers after some time in the Michigan-Ontario League. He returned to Toronto in 1925, despite hitting well in his late-season call-up in 1924. By 1926, he joined Detroit to stay.

Over the next 15 years, Gehringer set the standard for second basemen in the American League. After hitting .277 in his first full season in 1926, he hit .300 or better in 13 of the next 14 seasons, with the exception being .298 in 1932. Teaming with Bill Rogell at shortstop, Hank Greenberg at first and Marv Owen at third, he was part of the best infields in major league history, leading the Tigers to two pennants in 1934 and 1935. That infield alone knocked in a record 462 runs in 1934. Gehringer had 60 doubles in 1936, and won the AL batting title (with a .371) and the leagues MVP award in 1937. In 1940, he hit .313 and lead the Tigers to a third pennant in 7 years.
In 1941, at age 38, his numbers dropped off dramatically and after a 1942 season that saw him hit a mere .267, Gehringer decided to join the army. He came from the war in fine physical condition, and toyed around with rejoining the Tigers to try to get the 161 hits he needed to reach 3000, but decided against it. He finished his career with a .320 average and .490 slugging percentage.
Gehringer's life to this point was two things: baseball and his mother. His mother, widowed when Gehringer was young, was in poor health with diabetes and needed someone to look after her, which Gehringer gladly did. This meant Charlie was a bachelor through his playing days, but when his mother passed, Gehringer finally met his bride-to-be, and they were set to wed in 1949. Gehringer was also elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1949, and the induction ceremony was five days before his planned wedding. Rather then tempt fate and allow something to happen while travelling that could delay or postpone his nuptials, Gehringer chose to skip the induction in Cooperstown and stay home to prepare for the wedding. To make up for his absense, Gehringer would be in attendance at every Induction for the next 40 years.

In 1951, Gehringer became the general manager of the Tigers, a position he held through 1953 before resigning. He returned to work full time for his own company, which manufactured fabrics used on automobile seats. He ran the company until selling his interest in 1974. He died in January of 1993 at the age of 89 following a stroke.

He also owned a gas station in Detroit in the 30's.


Much has been written about Gehringer's quiet personality and robot-like skill. He is also one of those guys you never hear a bad word about from anyone. He was always kind and polite, and kept to Teddy Roosevelts credo about walking softly and carrying a big stick. Satchel Paige said he was the toughest out he ever faced, and Bill Rogell told this blogger that Charlie was the kind of guy you wanted all your friends to be like. I remember very well the day he died, and the tributes poured in to the local media from all around even though lots of his contemporaries had already passed. He is on the short-list of great second basemen, along with Collins, Hornsby, Morgan, Alomar....

I knew a girl who was related to Gehringer. She was like a second cousin or something... not close enough to be in the will, but not too distant to have not met him on several occasions. I always thought that was cool be related to ballplayer. I used to tell people I was related to Nemo Leibold. However, since A) my last name is not Leibold and B) no one knows who Nemo Leibold is, no one seemed to care and it did not get me any closer to hooking up with chicks, which is one of the only two reasons to lie in life (the other is money). Maybe being related to Nemo would have got me in with the Gehringer chick, but she kinda looked like Charlie, so with all due respect to the Mechanical Man, I don't look at that as a missed opportunity.

The Autograph: Gehringer has one of the nicest autographs in sports history. Even in age, it stayed nice and steady. He must have passed his penmanship skills on to Rick Ferrell, because you can see similarities in the two.

#26 Bill Terry

"Memphis" Bill Terry was born in Atlanta, Georgia, in 1898. The product of a broken home, his parents separated when Terry was in his early teens. He was tough and independent, and landed a job in a railyard at age 15. In 1915, Terry signed with the Atlanta Crackers as a pitcher. He moved around the minor leagues over the next few years, pitching and playing first base to keep his powerful bat in the lineup. He even pitched a no-hitter for Newnan in the Ga-Ala League. In 1918, with World War 1 brewing, and his young bride expecting, Terry quit baseball and took a job with a storage battery company in Memphis, where his wife and in-laws lived. Terry took a job with Standard Oil in 1920, and played on the company semi-pro team. It was there that Terry was spotted by Kid Elberfield, who contacted John McGraw. McGraw was passing through Memphis in April of 1922 as the major league teams headed north after spring training. Terry signed with McGraw and the Giants, and was assigned to Toledo.

He joined the New York Giants in 1923, and quickly became one of the league's deadliest hitters as well as one of its smartest players. He batted .319 in 1925, his first full season as the Giants' first baseman. He batted .372 in 1929, but that was just a taste of what was coming. In 1930, he enjoyed his finest season, rapping out a NL-record 254 hits and batting .401, the last player in the senior circuit to bat that high in a season. He followed that season with a .349 and .350 season. After falling to .322, he rebounded to hit .354 in 1934 and .341 in 1935.
Aside from being the last NL player to hit .400, Terry is also known as the man who replaced John McGraw as the manager of the Giants. McGraw stepped down in 1932 (on the same day Lou Gehrig homered four times, thus stealing Gehrig's headlines) and was dead within a year. Terry lead the Giants to a pennant in 1933 and 1936, his last season as a player. He batted .341 lifetime and both scored and knocked in over 1000 runs.
Terry lead the Giants to another pennant in 1937, and remained manager for the Giants through 1941. In retirement, Terry was elected to the Hall of Fame in 1954. A very successful speculator and business man, e moved to Jacksonville, Florida, where opened up a successful car dealership. This allowed him to purchase the Jacksonville AA club, as well as many other business interests. He stayed in Jacksonville for the remainder of his life, dying in 1989 at 90 years of age.

The Autograph: Despite his big stature in his time, Terry always had time for his fans. I like the way he writes his name out: "Wm. H (Bill) Terry". Very offical and proper, with the "Wm." but adds the "Bill" so you know it isn't an autograph of Willy Terry. (PLEASE don't google "Willy Terry"... you will regret it. I know I do.)

#25 Lou Boudreau

Lou Boudreau was born in Harvey, Illinois in 1917. His mother was Jewish, his father was of French descent. A natural athlete as well as scholar, Boudreau attended the University of Illinois and chose to persue athletics as a career. He played professional basketball for a few years in the National Basketball League, but signed with the Cleveland Indians in 1937 and debuted a year later.
A fine hitter and fielder, Boudreau quickly assumed the shortstop role, and became the leader of the Indians on the field. It wasn't long before he became the leader in the dugout, too. In 1942, at the mere age of 24, Boudreau was named manager of the Tribe after Roger Peckinpaugh was promoted to General Manager.
Classified as 4-F by the US Draft Board due to arthritic ankles, Boudreau remained stateside during World War 2 and was one of the American League's premier players. He won the batting title in 1944 with a .327 average and finished 6th in the MVP voting. He did not have a drop-off after the war, and in 1948, had one of the best seasons a man has ever had in the history of the game. Aside from managing Cleveland to their second (and as I write this, last) World Series title, he batted .355 with 18 home runs and was voted the AL Most Valuable Player. By 1950, his problems with his legs took their toll, and depsite a 92-62 record he was both fired as manager and released as a player by Cleveland. He signed the Red Sox in 1951, and played sparingly. He was named manager in 1952 but only played in 4 games, the final ones of his career. He stayed on as manager of the Red Sox until 1954, and then moved to three unsuccessful years at the healm of the Kansas City Athletics. He became the Cubs radio announcer in 1958, but swapped gigs with the Cubs manager Charlie Grimm in 1960. He returned to the radio booth in 1961, where he remained a fixture until 1987.
Boudreau was elected into Baseball's Hall of Fame in 1970. His daughter Sharyn married Denny McLain, who would win two Cy Young Awards for the Detroit Tigers in the 60's. Boudreau wrote an autobiography in the mid-90's, and in August of 2001, he died of complications of an infection and diabetes.

The Autograph: Boudreau's autograph is one of the most common Hall of Fame autographs around. He was always a great signer.

#24 Bill Dickey

Bill Dickey was born in 1907 in Bastrop, Louisiana. His father John had played semipro ball, as had his older brother Gus. Bill followed suit with them into the world of baseball, with much more success. His younger brother Skeets would follow Bill to the majors, playing six years himself.
Dickey played on the hometown team as a teen, also starring on the high school team. After high school, he went to Little Rock college where he played football as well as baseball. Dickey signed with the Southern League's Little Rock team, which was unofficially affiliated with the Chicago White Sox. He was moved to the team in Jackson (Mississippi) in 1927 where he continued to produce. However, Jackson waived their rights to Dickey, and he wound up signing with the Yankees. Dickey's time in the Yankees' organization was short lived; he joined the Bronx Bombers in late 1928 at 21 years of age.
By spring of 1929, the Yankees had what they never had: a catcher. In 28 years of existence, the sporadically had catchers that were at best adequate, but for the most part expendable. Dickey started the tradition of great Yankee backstops that would include Yogi Berra, Elston Howard, Thurman Munson and Jorge Posada. He batted .324 in his rookie year of 1929, and would bat over .300 for the next 6 seasons. After a subpar 1935, he rebounded in 1936 to one of the best seasons a catcher on the junior circuit would ever have. He hit .362 with 22 home runs and knocked over 100 runs for the first of four straight seasons. He continued to be the Yankees every-day catcher until 1939. From 1929-1939, he batted .320 and slugged .510.
Dickey, now 33, accepted part-time duties in 1940, and shared catching duties through 1943. He then joined the military for World War 2. He returned to the Yankees in 1946 and played in 54 games, but also was named manager when Joe McCarthy resigned. He finished out the season as manager before.
After spending the 1947 season as a manager in the Southern League, he rejoined the Yankees as a coach, and was instrumental in developing Berra and Howard into the great players they were. He stayed on until 1958, when he left coaching and returned to Little Rock. He remained a scout for the Yankees and also worked at Stephens Inc. brokerage house as a securities representative. He finally retired for good in 1977. He was elected to Baseball's Hall of Fame in 1954, and had his number 8 retired by the Yankees, also worn by Yogi Berra. He was a regular at Yankee Old-Timers Day (You can see Bill at 0:36 and 0:47). He died in 1993 at 86.

For a while there, Dickey was the greatest catcher to ever play the game. Maybe that claim was buoyed by his uniform, but his shear dominance at that position through the 30's put him ahead of Hartnett, Lombardi, Bresnahan and even Cochrane. Since that time, we have had Berra, Bench, Fisk, Rodriguez.... and Dickey's name and feats begin to lose their relevance. Baseball sometimes has a fickle memory.

The Autograph: I was very surprised to get Dickey's autograph. Something I learned about autograph collecting as a kid: When it came to baseball players and their signing habits, Yankees were trickier than non-Yankees. I don't know if that is arrogance, or circumstance. But that is how my teen-aged mind profiled. Dickey signed my cards for me, and I was excited. I knew he had a reputation for not always accomodating requests, but he did for me each time I wrote.

#23 Johnny Mize

Johnny Mize was born in 1913 in Demorest, Georgia. As a child, his natural athleticism allowed him to excel in many sports, most notably tennis, but he chose baseball to be what he would dedicate his life to. At age 17, he signed with the St Louis Cardinals and was assigned to Greensboro in the Piedmont League. In 1933, he was batting .360 with Greensboro when he was sent to Rochester in the International League. His 1934 and 1935 were shortened by injury, but the Big Cat could not be kept out of the Natinal League forever. He finally joined the Cardinals in 1936, and the first baseman had immediate impact. He won the batting title in 1939 with a .349 average, as well as topping the league in home runs as well, with 28. In 1940, he belted 43 homers and finished second in the MVP voting for a second straight season.

After the 1941 season, Mize was dealt to the New York Giants, and after a 1942 season that saw him hit .305 with 110 RBI, he joined the military and spent the next three years helping with the war effort. He returned to the Giants in 1946, and 1947, he had career highs in home runs (51) and RBI (138). He added another 40 home runs in 1948 at age 35, and in mid 1949, was sent to the Yankees. He stayed with the Yankees for 5 years, until finally retiring at age 40 in 1953.

After his career ended, with 359 home runs and a .312 lifetime average, Mize had to wait until 1981 to be inducted into the Hall of Fame. He had bypass surgery in 1982, and spent his remaining years back in Demorest. He frequently appeared at Old-Timer games, and spent a lot of his time visiting children's hosptials to sign autographs and tell stories to kids. He died in his sleep in 1993 at the age of 80.

Mize is one of those players whose candidacy for the Hall of Fame seemed so obvious. He missed three prime years due to World War 2, so he would have easily approached 450 lifetime home runs and 2500 hits. An incredible slugger, and a great contact hitter (in the year he hit 51 home runs, he only struck out 42 times). In fact, he only fanned fifty times in a season one (57 in 1937). He attributed his hitting skill to practing hitting a tennis ball with a broomstick for hours as a kid.

My dad took me to the Baseball Hall of Fame for the first time in 1981. We went for induction weekend, to watch Mize, Bob Gibson and Rube Foster get inducted. It was a thrill for me, at age ten, to see this event. I remember hearing the legenday speech by Ernie Harwell as he was inducted into Broadcaster's wing of the Hall. Foster had died 51 years earlier, but his widow (!) accepted the award for him. She reminded me a lot of Mother Jefferson. Mize's speech was a good and heart-warming one, so good that around 20 years later, I lifted part of it for a toast at my friend George's wedding. Mize said, "Years ago, writers told me I'd make the Hall of Fame, so I kinda prepared a speech. But somewhere in the 25 years it got lost." I took that quote and twisted it around a little to mock George's lengthy engagement at their wedding reception.

The Autograph: Mize was always a willing signer, although by the time I got to writing to him, he was asking for 5 dollars each to go to a children's hospital near his home.

#22 Edd Roush

Edd J Roush was born in 1893 in Oakland City, Indiana. His father William was a locally-reknown baseball player as well as a dairy farmer. Undoubtedly the work young Roush did on the farm lead to his strong hands that allowed him to yield a 48-ounce bat throughout his career.

At age 16, the youngster got his chance to play for the local Oakland City semi-pro club when the regular outfielder didn't show. He got a couple of hits, and the job was his. A natural lefty, Roush had learned to throw with his right hand out of a lack of righthanded gloves available to him growing up. Roush played some second base while with Henderson (Ky) in 1911, but gladly went back to the outfield when the chance arose. In 1912, he moved to the Evansville club in 1912, and was having a great season in 1913 when his contract was sold to the Chicago White Sox in August of the year. After a short stint with the Sox, he was farmed out to the minor leagues on September 11, 1913.

During the off-season, dissatisfied with his contract and his prospects with the White Sox, he jumped to the Federal League and signed with Indianapolis. It was a successful move, for he batted .325 in 79 games (and married that April, too). The Indianapolis franchise moved to Newark for the 1915 season, and Roush batted .298 in a full-time capacity. However, the Federal LEague disintegrated that winter, and Roush was sold to the New York Giants. Dissatisfied over his playing time and his hatred for manager John McGraw, Roush was excited when he was traded to the Reds in mid-season with Christy Mathewson. Roush played well for the Reds down the stretch, and he was on the cusp of a fantastic career as a Red.

He won the National League batting title in 1917, missed by two percentage points the following year, but won another one in 1919 when he lead the Reds to the World Championship over the Black Sox. Roush regularly hit over .300 through 1926, and was a spectacular fielder as well.

After the 1926 season, 33-year old Roush was dealt back to the Giants. He threatened retirement over playing for McGraw, but McGraw, who claimed he had been trying to get Roush back since 1917, assured him things would be different this time around. Roush reluctantly agreed, and he hit .304 for New York in 1927. Injuries began to take their toll. His knees were getting worse, and he also missed a lot of 1928 due to abdominal surgery. He sat out the entire 1930 season due to a salary dispute. He returned to the Reds for the 1931 season before calling it quits for good. He had almost 2400 career hits, and a .323 career batting average (.331 with the Reds.)
Roush coached for a year, for the Reds in 1938, but due to a knack for financial investments, Roush was able to enjoy his retirement, unlike so many teammates who had to find new careers. Roush was elected to Baseball's Hall of Fame in 1962, and in 1969, was voted by the Cincinnati Red fans as the greatest Red player in the franchise's history. (But please note the year... the Big Red Machine was just being pieced together.)

Roush split his retirement time between Oakland City and Bradenton, Florida, where he spent his winters for 35 years. On March 21, 1988, Roush made his way to Bill McKechnie Field, where the Texas Rangers and the Pittsburgh Pirates were to play a Grapefruit League game. Roush was a fixture around the park for many years, chatting it up with players, umpires and fans alike. His visits to the clubhouse were always a treat for Roush, as well as the players. However, before the game began, Roush suffered a heart attack, and died at the field. He was 94 years old.

Roush is known as being an independent and hard-nosed player. He never reported to spring training, and was a regular contract hold-out, too. But at the bat, and in centerfield, his skills were better than anyone in the National League. He was also not afraid of a fight, often spiking infielders after their pitcher had thrown one inside too close... so much so that the infielders would demand their hurler not throw too close to Roush.

Roush was also vocal about the 1919 World Series, and insisted to his dying day that the Reds would have beaten the White Sox either way. He also said that everyone on the Reds knew something fishy was up during the series, and one gambler even approached Reds pitcher Hod Eller in an elevator with an offer to throw games. Roush was the last surviving participant of the Series, and in 1987, he even ventured up to Indianapolis where filmmaker John Sayles was directing a movie based on the 1919 Black Sox book, "Eight Men Out." On the set, Roush regaled the actors and crew with old baseball stories, as well as gave some advice on hitting to the actors. Great movie, you should check it out if you haven't seen it yet.

The Autograph: Roush was one of my favorite old-timers. A true gentleman and class act, he replied to every one of my letters, be it from Indiana or Florida. I can still remember my sadness upon hearing of his passing. I was hoping that he would make it another six weeks to his 95th birthday, so he could pass Elmer Flick as the oldest Hall of Famer ever. (Al Lopez later passed Flick in longevity). Roush was also the last surviving player to have played in the Federal League, the last challenge to the supremacy of the AL/NL.

#21 Joe Sewell

Joe Sewell's baseball career blossomed from the game's worst tragedy, becoming the game's best contact hitter en route to the Hall of Fame.
Sewell was born in 1898, the first of three brothers to play in the Major Leagues. He honed his batting skills as a kid by hitting rocks with a broomstick, Sewell played at the University of Alabama along with Riggs Stephenson, and in 1920, he signed on to play with New Orleans in the Southern Association. He was hitting .289 when a tragedy in New York changed the direction of his life.
The Cleveland Indians were playing the Yankees at the Polo Grounds on August 16, 1920. A Carl Mays fastball came up and in on Cleveland shortstop Ray Chapman, striking him in the head. Chapman died the next day, becoming the only major league player to die from an on-the-field incident. According to witnesses, the ball bounced so far off of Chapman's head the the Yankee third baseman thought Chapman had laid down a bunt. The Indians, in a heated pennant race, pressed Harry Lunte in at shortstop. When Lunte got hurt a few weeks later, the Indians purchased Sewell contract and he made his debut on September 10. Sewell responded by hitting .329 that month, and the Indians won the World Series.
Sewell stayed with the Indians through 1930, and hit below .300 only twice (.299 in '22, .289 in '30). He was released by Cleveland in January of 1931, and was quickly signed by the Yankees. He played two more years there before retiring. After his career, he spent time as a scout, as well as working in public relations for a dairy. He coached the Univeristy of Alabama's baseball team from 1964-1970. He was elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1977, and regularly attended the induction ceremonies. Sewell died in 1990 at the age of 91. His brother Luke had a long and distinguished career in the major leagues, and brother Tommy had a cup of coffee with the Cubs in 1927.

Sewell's accomplishments on the field are legendary. Standing only 5'6, he was one of the most amazing contact hitters in the games history. In over 7200 at bats, Sewell struck out only 114 times, including two seasons where he only struck out 3 times. More amazingly, Sewell used only one bat through his entire 14-year career, a 40 ounce bat modeled after Ty Cobb's bat. He still holds the record for most consecutive games without a strikeout at 115 games.

The Autograph: Sewell was one of the first players I ever wrote to, and it was always a great response. I read a lot about the 1920 Indians, and I was fortunate enough that so many of the stars of that team (Sewell, Bill Wambsganss, Joe Wood and Stan Coveleski) were still alive when I started collecting. Sewell was the last surviving player of Cleveland's first world champions.

#9 Bob Feller

Bob Feller was a phenom in the truest sense of the word. Raised on a farm in Iowa, his dad built a ballfield on the farmland so his 12-year old son could practice. Off to the American League after his junior year in high school, he struck out 17 New York Yankees at the age of 17.

Feller made the most of his 18 years with the Cleveland Indians, winning 266 games. He served with the navy in World War 2, missing almost 4 entire seasons from ages 23-26. He returned from the military, and in 1946 struck out 348 batters while winning 26 games. He pitched for the Indians throughout his entire career, retiring in 1956 at the age of 37.

Feller was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1962, and continued to work for the Indians until his death in December of 2010 at 92 years of age.


Want to see Feller's sweet wind-up?
Slo-Mo-Bo

Want to see Bob Feller's fastball get clocked by military instruments?
Petty Officer Heater

Want to see the movie reel from 1962, celebrating Feller and Jackie Robinson being elected into the Hall of Fame?
Jack and Bobbie
(I love the crack of the bat in these films. About as realistic of a sound as a punch in an action movie.)

Want to see 90-year old Bob Feller pitch to Paul Molitor in 2009?
Not-So-Rapid Robert and Molly

Okay... so the last one isn't all that great. But it did get him an offer from the Nationals.

The Autograph: Feller's autograph is one of the most abundant in sports. Year after year, Feller has done shows, public appearances, charity events. Reports are out that he has gotten a little cranky in recent years about signing, due to arthritis. As Bob Feller once told an interviewer, "If there is someone out there who does not have my autograph, then they must not want it."

#8 Lloyd Waner

Standing 5'9, and weighing a slight 150 pounds, Lloyd Waner turned his small stature into a Hall of Fame Career that saw him finish with just under 2500 hits and a .316 average.

Waner burst on the baseball scene in 1927, following his brother (and fellow Hall of Famer) Paul, who debuted with the Pittsburgh Pirates one year prior. He batted .355 that rookie season, as the Pirates won the National League Pennant before running into the buzzsaw known as Murderer's Row: The 1927 Yankees.

Waner and his brother were a formidbale duo, but despite over 5600 hits between the two of them, the sweep the Pirates got at the hands of the Yanks was their only World Series appearance.

After 17 season in Pittsburgh, Waner was traded to the Braves in 1941 for Nick Strincevich, and bounced around until 1945 before retiring. He remained on with the Pirates as a acout, and was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1967. He also served Oklahoma City as a clerk, and died in 1982 from emphysema at the age of 76.

Much has been written about Paul and Lloyd Waner's nicknames: Big Poison and Little Poison. Even Paul and Lloyd disagreed. Lloyd's story is that a fan in Brooklyn called them "Big Person" and "Little Person," but the Brooklyn accent sounded like "poison" to a sportwriter. Of course, the "big" and "little" connotation is based on age, since I doubt a fan in the outfield seats would notice from 20 yards away that Paul was a half-inch taller and 3 pounds heavier.

The Autograph: Lloyd's autograph is highly common. I bought this card from a dealer, and it did not make a dent in my wallet. And I have a small wallet.

#7 Al Lopez

Al Lopez was a very capable catcher for 20 season in the major leagues, mainly for Brookyn, the Boston Braves and the Pirates. He was a two-time All-Star, and his 1918 games behind the plate was a record that stood for many years until Carlton Fisk. He then turned into a successful manager, heading the Indians and the White Sox from 1951-1969. He won two pennants (one with each club) and retired with a .584 winning percentage. He was inducted into the Hall of Fame as a manager in 1977.

Upon Lopez' death in 2005 at the age of 97, he had the longest lifesapan of any member of the Hall.

The Autograph: Lopez had an interesting outlook on autographs. For many years he freely signed, and then abruptly stopped, returning items unsigned sent to him. He started signing again, and then stopped.

#6 Waite Hoyt

Waite Hoyt is proboably the most famous pitcher from the legendary Yankee teams of Ruth and Gehrig. It's safe to say that he got a large portion of his wins thanks in part to the offense of the Yanks, but the really shouldn't diminish the effect he had as a pitcher.
Hoyt came up with the New York Giants in 1918, and was traded to the Red Sox the next season. He wound up following the Babe to New York, and was Ruth's teammate for over a decade. Despite all those years of being teammates, Ruth always thought his name was "Walt"
He won 237 games in his career, but Hoyt always maintained that he would have had a more successful career had he stayed away from the bottle. Like many players of the day, the pursuit of alcohol was as strong as the pursuit for a pennant.
Hoyt followed his playing career with a popular career as a broadcaster for the Cincinnati Reds from 1942 to 1965. His stories and anecdotes were legendary, and he even recorded two albums of his tales, "Waite Hoyt In The Rain" and "Waite Hoyt and Babe Ruth."
Hoyt was still visible after his broadcast career, regularly attending old-timer games. He also was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1969, his candidacy no doubt buoyed by his high profile career as an orator.

In 1977, he recorded a series of interviews that appeared on Cincinnati Public Television. Parts 5-8 can be seen here.

http://www.cetconnect.org/MediaPlayer.aspx?vid=201
http://www.cetconnect.org/MediaPlayer.aspx?vid=202
http://www.cetconnect.org/MediaPlayer.aspx?vid=203
http://www.cetconnect.org/MediaPlayer.aspx?vid=204


Hoyt died in 1984 just 2 weeks shy of his 85th birthday.

The Autograph: I got this card signed through the mail, not more than a few months before his death. Hoyt's autograph is in high supply, even 25 years after death.

#5 Hank Greenberg

Hank Greenberg is not the first Jewish player in the Major Leagues (Lip Pike). He is also not the greatest Jewish player in baseball history (I'll take Sandy Koufax). He was not the only Jewish player of his era. (Harry Danning, Buddy Myer, Lou Boudreau....). So why is he the posterboy of Jewish athletes?

In the late 1990's era of Political Correctness, different minority groups took to their own icon. Jackie Robinson was honored and heralded by the black community, Roberto Clemente by the Latino, and Hank Greenberg by the Jewish community. Three legendary players, highly skilled and loved, not just by "their people" but by the country as a whole. Greenberg was the face of athletic Judaism, and he was well aware of the importance of how he conducted himself on and off the field. America was still a Protestant nation, and players of a differing religion or ethnicity received much derision from bench jockeys. Greenberg was able to garner much respect, both with the way he carried himself on the field, his boldness in standing up to entire team's verbal assaults, and the fact that the man could flat-out hit. He had an incredible work ethic, part from of his upbringing, and part of the necessity bourne from the Depression.

Born of Romanian immigrants, Greenberg enrolled in NYU but departed quickly to play baseball. After a short stint with the Tigers in 1930, he returned in 1933 to become one of the most feared sluggers in the post-Ruth era. He challenged Ruth's single-season home run record, falling short with 58 in 1938. As part of the G-Men, along with Charlie Gehringer and Hank Greenberg, lead the Tigers to consecutive pennants in 1934 and '35. He was part of the 1934 infield with Billy Rogell, Marv Owen and Charlie Gehringer that knocked in 462 runs, the most by a single infield. Also notable about that infield was those four played every single game that year, with the exception of Greenberg who sat out on Yom Kippur.

Greenburg was indcucted into the Army on May 7, 1941. He was released from duty on December 5 of that year, because the army was allowed to discharge men over the age of 28. Three days later, Greenberg was at the enlistment office following the Japanese bombing of Pearl Harbor. Greenberg served in the Pacific theater, and returned to the Tigers in 1945, and lead the Tigers to a pennant for the fourth time. He went to the Pirates in 1947 to wrap up his career, and then became part owner of the Cleveland Indians with Bill Veeck. He followed Veeck to the Chicago White Sox, and upon his executive retirement, lived out his remaining years in Beverly Hills.

Following his death, Greenberg's legacy has grown more than almost any other athlete. He went from being a cult hero in Detroit and the Jewish community to being one of the bigger names in baseball lore. His career numbers may not be as fearsome as his contemporaries, but factoring in 4.5 seasons lost to World War 2, and another to a broken wrist, it is easy to believe he would have reached 500 home runs, a total that at his retirement had only been achieved by Ruth, Mel Ott and Jimmie Foxx. Greenberg's name lives on, while Ott and Foxx have faded. A documentary was released in 1998 entitled "The Life and Times of Hank Greenberg," which is a great look at his exploits and those who revered him.

Interesting fact: Greenberg's son Steve is the brainchild behind the Classic Sports Network, which debuted in the 90's and was soon purchased by ESPN to become ESPN Classic.

The Autograph: Hank Greenberg was the first player I ever wrote to who charged for his autograph. I was shocked at the 5 dollar price tag per autograph. That was a lot of money, and took a big chunk of my paper route money, but being a big Tiger fan, I didn't balk at sending money in and getting this card signed. What I thought was cool is that the proceeds all went to the Beverly Hills Humane Society. I wish I would have had the forsight to send a baseball to get signed, too. He even kept up with fan mail as cancer ate through his body, and Hammerin' Hank died in September of 1986.