19 to 21…
Volume 11, #15, May 15, 2013
Happy Anniversary, Raul Sanchez
To a certain generation of Phillies
fans, it is only right and proper
that Zack Greinke should return from
his fight-related injury on May 15.
While Greinke may be a rare case of
a player getting seriously injured
in a baseball fight, such
contretemps are hardly rare, and
today marks the 53rd anniversary of
a real dilly.
May 15 was a Sunday in 1960, and
as was the custom in those days, the
Phillies and Reds were playing a
doubleheader; in this case, at
Crosley Field. Game One was
televised back to Philadelphia, and
what the local audience saw that
day, to say nothing of the Reds fans
actually in attendance saw, was a
memorable war in the top of the
eighth inning.
Although the season was still
young, the Phillies were already in
the second division, despite the
presence in the dugout of the best
tactical manager to ever wear the
pinstripes (and maybe any other
major league uniform), that is, Gene
Mauch (number 4 in your program).
Although Mauch would build a
contender in Philadelphia within
three years, the reason for the
Phillies’ 10-17 record going into
the game was pretty clear, a
starting lineup that featured; Tony
Curry (the Bahamian cricket player
who proved that, by the mid-20th
Century, the skills from one game
did not translate well to the
other), Pancho Herrera batting
cleanup (and he did a lot of
cleaning up, he later ate his way
out of the majors), failed Red Sox
prospect Ted Lepcio at third, and
possibly the worst catcher in major
league history, Cal Neeman, behind
the plate. In point of fact, the
only two decent players in the
lineup for the Phillies were Tony
Taylor and Johnny Callison.
Of more interest in this tale was
the Phillies’ starting pitcher, once
and future Celtics power forward,
6-8 Gene Conley. Opposing Conley at
the start of the game was future
Phillie Calvin Coolidge Julius
Caesar Tuskahoma McLish. Despite the
Phillies’ less-than-imposing lineup,
McLish was long gone by the time the
top of the eighth rolled around, the
Phillies having battered “Buster” (McLish’s
nickname, along with his six given
names) and his immediate successors
– both of whom would be far better
known for other things than for
their roles in this game -- for nine
runs. For trivia experts, McLish was
first relieved by a 20-year-old
Claude Osteen (who would go on to
win 196 games in the majors) and
then by pitcher/author Jim Brosnan,
who would only write two of the best
books in baseball history.
Trailing 9-1 going into the top of
the eighth, Reds manager Fred
Hutchinson figured there was no use
wasting another front line pitcher,
so he stuck Raul Sanchez, who had 47
games of major league experience in
1952, 1957 and 1960 behind him, but
only one major league appearance in
front of him, in to pitch. Sanchez
was destined for a short, but
memorable, stay on the mound. His
sequence went as follows (remember,
the Reds are down by eight runs at
the start of the inning); walk,
stolen base, ground out, single
(making the score 10-1), fly out,
single, hit batter (loads the
bases), hit batter, walk, hit
batter, ground out. Jay Hook pitched
the Phillies’ ninth for the Reds.
In the space of four batters,
Sanchez hit three of them, and
walked one. It should be noted that
in the course of 90 major league
innings, Sanchez walked 43 batters
and hit seven, so he didn’t have the
greatest control in baseball. Or,
maybe he was ticked off that Tony
Taylor stole second with an
eight-run lead after his leadoff
walk. Whatever the cause, Sanchez
hit Lepcio to load the bases, hit
Neeman to force in a run (about the
only way he could get an RBI),
walked Joe Koppe to force in another
run, and then hit Conley to force in
yet another run, making the score
13-1 and setting off a full-scale
riot. Now, you’d think, after seeing
Sanchez hit two of the three
previous batters, that Conley would
have been ready for anything, or at
least ready to get out of the way.
However, he objected rather
violently to getting plunked in the
rear, and headed for the mound where
he, in the words of Robin Roberts in
his biography, “started hurting
people.” In case you’re wondering,
Sanchez was 6-0 and weighed all of
150 pounds.
As a secondary bout to the main
event, Frank Robinson took umbrage
at something Roberts said to him on
his way in from the bullpen and,
after Conley was finally calmed
down, the two future Hall of Famers
had a tete-a-tete, literally.
“I went after him, and he went
after me,” wrote Roberts. “His head
hit me right in my right eye socket,
and I ended up with a black eye. It
was not one of my proudest moments.”
On the brighter side for the
Phillies, they ended up winning the
game 14-3, with Conley pitching a
complete game for his first win of
the year. That’s right, Conley
wasn’t thrown out of the game for
charging the mound, nor was Sanchez
for hitting three out of four
batters, nor were Robinson and
Roberts for their meeting of the
minds. Trust an eyewitness (at least
on the TV screen), it was the kind
of fight that today would have
gotten at least the pitchers thrown
out of the game, if not hauled off
to jail. And they say baseball never
changes…
