Van Meter loses its Bob Feller Museum, but 'Rapid Robert' will long be remembered

A little, but proud, piece of baseball history is going away.

I came across a New YorkTimes story about the decision to close the Bob Feller Museum in Van Meter, Iowa. The legendary hurler used to help cover expenses by visiting the hometown and signing autographs, usually with some fellow Hall-of-Famers.

But since Feller passed in 2010, it’s been harder to raise enough money to keep the small museum opened. The building, with an amazing brick mural on an outside wall, will soon become the new Van Meter City Hall.

I had the pleasure of a quick visit to the museum during our epic trip to South Dakota in 2013. Even better, I twice had the opportunity to meet the man himself.

I once wrote that if you’re an autograph collector and you don’t have Feller’s signature, that’s on you and not Feller. He was among the nicest and most prolific signers in the game.

I first met the Indians pitcher when I was living in Connecticut and working in the Bridgeport Post’s Valley Bureau.

Feller had relatives in nearby Waterbury, and each summer he’d visit and would make a handful of appearances. I first met him at a baseball card store Seymour, Conn. in 1987. I brought a ball for him to sign, and there were only a handful of other people in the small store.

With little prompting, Feller starting telling me about his amazing Hall of Fame career. After asking my name, he wrote on an 8.5 by 11 sheet with his photo on the front, and flipped it over to show me where it listed all his career achievements.

I heard about the 266 wins and three no-hitters, and how he could have had more of each had he not enlisted in the Navy after Pearl Harbor, spending 44 months serving his country and earning eight battle stars.

He pointed out the line reading “The only pitcher in Major League history to win 20 games or more games before age 21,” then crossed out “only” and replaced it with “first,” since Dwight Gooden had matched the feat.

I met him again the next year at a New Britain Red Sox game, sitting at a table near the concession stands, signing photos and telling stories. He signed everything for everyone and then walked around the stands talking, signing and shaking hands.

He came off a little crusty in interviews in his later years, not having a lot of love for modern players who don’t approach the game the same way. I think Feller views himself not just as a standard bearer for old school hardball, but as an ambassador for the game. And to that end, few were better than the “Heater from Van Meter.”

So I was pretty excited when we were driving through Iowa on our way to South Dakota and saw the sign for Van Meter on I-80.

My mother-in-law spoils me wildly, and allowed me to pull over to take some quick photos – which led to a peek inside the museum, just before closing for the day.

There’s not much to Van Meter, so the museum was not difficult to find. The bar relief mural stands out.

We had just enough time to grab some things in the gift shop and admire some of the displays. The price of admission was nominal, and the two exhibit rooms were filled with Feller memorabilia. The folks in the museum were certainly proud of their native son.

 

The bat is the center display was used by the Bambino

One key artifact: The bat that Babe Ruth leaned on when he made is last public appearance at Yankee Stadium. You’ve no doubt seen the photo. Babe was using one of Feller’s bats, and it’s on display.

The thing with road trips is that you have to be open to stopping when glorious opportunities present themselves. This stop ended up being a once-in-a-lifetime visit.

Baseball place No. 83: Mike Greenwell's go-karts, 83A: Scott Radinsky's Skatelab -- and a tough interview

We’re back on the trail after giving Josh Pahigian a break, and heading back to Comiskey Park’s final game, too.

Josh heads to Cape Coral, Fla. To Mike Greenwell’s Bat-a-Ball and Family Fun Park as place No. 83 in his “101 Baseball Places to See Before You Strike Out.”

Greenwell’s career ended in 1993 and opened the amusement park, which sounds like it has the usual assortment of go-karts and batting cages, and is a short drive from where the Red Sox spend spring training.

I’ve never met Greenwell, and have not been to Cape Coral, though we did once buy a house from a family that moved there.
But we did spend some time with Scott Radinsky, who also spends his post-baseball time running an action park. That would be:

Alternative place No. 83A: Scott Radinsky’s Skatelab, Simi Valley, Calif.

Will and I were Radinsky fans, and he was a promising rookie in 1990 when the White Sox were saying farewell to The Baseball Palace of the World.

He was finishing the season with a 6-1 record and somehow grabbed four saves in the season where teammate Bobby Thigpen obliterated the record with 57.

And he was a colorful guy, playing in a punk band when he wasn’t pitching.

As you know from the Ken Griffey Jr. conversation, the scene before the final game at Comiskey was surreal. There were all kinds of people roaming around foul territory; some of them even had legitimate reasons to be there.

Will and I were out there, fighting our way through the people with disc cameras and sprayed on gray hair, and were taking in the scene for our Flint Journal story. We saw Ozzie Guillen with his uniform number shaved into his hair, and Ron Karkovice holding one of his kids, and we were looking for someone to interview.

Ideally, that would have been Frank Thomas, our new hero. But Frank must have known what awaited, because he remained in the safety of the clubhouse, which was off-limits. Usually reporters are allowed in the clubhouse, but the White Sox were wise enough to limit access on this day given the “media” in attendance.

But Scott Radinsky was brave enough to enter the fray.

I caught him as he stepped into the dugout. I must have looked pretty goofy, pad in hand and laptop case slung over my shoulder. We called the computers “portables” at the time and I didn’t dare let it out of sight given the suspicious-looking crowd.

Soaking in flopsweat, I started to ask “Rads” some questions. And he was being, well, really difficult.

Granted, I was star struck, nervous and probably stammering. And my questions were not especially insightful, stuff like, “What’s it like in the clubhouse with all this going on?”

And Rads offered up stuff like, “What do you think it’s like?”

After several rounds of this, I was crushed, thanked him and turned away.

I guess Rads sensed my dejection and called me back, “I’m just messing with you. What do you want to know?”

And he was perfect after that.

“He was just making you work for it,” said Will, who snapped photos from a distance throughout the interview.

Rads went on to have an 11-year career in baseball, also pitching for the Dodgers, Cardinals and Indians. He compiled a 42-25 record with 52 saves.

This year he’s the Indians’ pitching coach, though he probably doesn’t brag about that, especially after the Mets sweep.

He had a second job even while pitching, working as lead singer for the band Ten Foot Pole and then Pulley.

Being a true California skater dude, Rads also runs Skatelab , a massive complex dedicated to all things skateboarding. Aside from courses for grinding and other stunts, Rads has a skateboarding hall of fame and museum.

And, hopefully, when a young, starstruck reporter shows up to ask the owner some questions, Rads supplies the answers – after making him work for it a little.

Place No. 81, Mississippi Sports Hall and Museum, and No. 81A Palm Beach County Sports Hall of Fame

I’m a pretty inclusive guy when it comes to halls of fame.

Bert Byleven would have been in the baseball Hall of Fame years ago I had a say. But not Tommy John, since he’s got Yankee taint.

But there’s a difference between including a lot of people and including, well, everybody.

Josh Pahigian takes us to the Mississippi Sports Hall of Fame and Museum for place No. 81 in his “101 Baseball Places to See Before You Strike Out.”

I drove through Jackson on our way to Texas last October, but didn’t have time to stop at the museum, though Josh reports there is a nice display honoring Dizzy Dean.

But my recent adventures in Florida did offer an opportunity to explore another hall:

Place No. 81A: Palm Beach County Sports Hall of Fame

The Hall of Fame was created in 1977, and apparently the criteria for induction are pretty loose. Simply retiring in the Palm Beach area is apparently enough to get one enshrined, and there are a lot of people who retire in South Florida.

And the hall inducts a lot of people every year, even people who contribute to the Hall.

It started modestly with former Tigers manager Mayo Smith, who died that year before, golfer Jack Nicklaus and sports editor Bob Balfe.

But then they started inducting up to nine folks a year. It’s nice that full contact karate is recognized somewhere. But even the online version of the hall lacks any detail about who these inductees were.

And the actual display is just a series of banners hanging in Roger Dean Stadium listing the names and the years of induction.

Scanning the massive list of inductees, I found three Mets properly celebrated. Two, however, didn’t exactly work their sporting magic in the Palm Beach area.

Bob Shaw had a nice enough career, posting 108 wins against 98 losses with .352 ERA over 11 seasons. A shoulder injury did him in.

He arrived at Shea mid-season in 1966, purchased from the Giants, and posted a 11-10 record. The next year was not as pretty, going 3-9 before being sold to the Cubs in July.

His claim to fame was besting Sandy Koufax in Game 5 of the 1959 World Series while hurling for the White Sox.

The Dodgers that year were still playing in the Los Angeles Coliseum, and that game brought a still-record 92,706 people into the stands.

Koufax was not yet the studly pitcher he would become, with an 8-6 record that season. But beating Sandy Koufax any time is something to be proud of, especially when it’s a 1-0 duel in what Dodger fans had hoped would be the clinching game.

That season ended up being Shaw’s best, going 18-6 with a 2.69 ERA and finishing third in the AL Cy Young Award voting.

His other achievement? That would be teaching Gaylord Perry to throw the spitter when both pitched for the Giants.

Like a number of New Yorkers I know, Shaw settled down in the Jupiter, Fla. area and developed commercial real estate.

Gary Carter’s address seems to be his justification for enshrinement as well, unless his duties with the Mets during spring training 40 miles north are taken into considering.

Carter, of course, was a no-brainer for Cooperstown and the Mets Hall of Fame. But he was very active in the Palm Beach area, holding a charity golf tournament in Jupiter at a course where my brother worked at the security gate.

He brilliantly decided that all the participants should sign their parking slip on the way out. There was no official reason for this, mind you, other than to collect autographs for his brother! Not that Pete Rose, Tom Glavine and the other golfers knew that.

And Jeff Reardon is a member of the Class of 1999.

Reardon spent three years with the Mets, amassing a 10-5 record and a 2.65 ERA and 10 saves. In one of the Mets more unfortunate trades, he was sent to the Expos with Dan Norman for Ellis Valentine.

The Expos, of course, made him the closer and became one of the best of the decade an a four-time All-Star. Valentine, well, did not.

Reardon actually played in West Palm Beach, where the Expos shared a spring training site with the Braves.

After several other stops, he sadly ended his career by playing with the Yankees, no doubt causing the problems that led to a 2005 arrest.

I was hoping for more Mets, and more information about the inductees. But I also didn't want to miss a minute of Jose Reyes, so I guess things worked out.

Place No. 82: Joe DiMaggio's boat; and 82A: Scott Kamieniecki's apartment

I’ve got another beef with Josh Pahigian.

Recreational watercraft belonging to dead Yankees does not make for a baseball place.

Yet, here we are in Martinez, Calif. with a boat that once belonged to Joe DiMaggio as place No. 82 in his “101 Baseball Place to See Before You Strike Out.”

Note that we’re skipping over place No. 81 for now.

Apparently of you go to the Martinez Marina, you’ll see on a platform a powerboat named “Joltin’ Joe” that was given to the ballplayer on the day he retired in 1949.

Josh writes that DiMaggio used the boat a few times then gave it to his brother Vince, who then passed it along to a cousin.

You won’t be surprised to know that I not only have not seen a boat that DiMaggio sorta kinda had, but have no intentions of doing so.

This is not to say there have not been encounters with Yankees. I submit to you:

Place No. 82A: Scott Kamieniecki’s apartment.


Here’s another tale from the archives.

In hindsight, It’s probably better that I didn’t realize the guy living right above us was Yankees pitcher Scott Kamieniecki.

My wife and I had just moved into a different apartment in our sprawling complex, landing a better unit with two bedrooms and a washer and dryer. It had only two floors, and four units – two upstairs and two down -- shared a little foyer and an outside door.

I claimed the extra bedroom as my first “baseball room,” a place to hang the glorious life-sized posters of Tom Seaver and Frank Thomas, the Mets pennants and yearbooks I’d collected since childhood and other stuff.

In the six years we lived in apartments, I can’t say we really got to know any of the neighbors other than a “good morning” when we passed, only sometimes not even knowing their names.

So it wasn’t much of shock that I didn’t really formally meet the new family that moved upstairs in the fall of 1992. The guy had one of those nasty halo harnesses you wear after a neck injury, and he had a wife and young child. I saw them a couple times as we passed in and out, even once in Meijer, which is a big store here in the Midwest.

My wife helped the woman carry some boxes up the stairs once, and said she introduced herself. The woman said, “We’re only here until our house is done being built” and closed the door on her.

My colleagues in the Flint Journal’s sports department did a good job keeping track of local athletes in the pros, and Flint’s got a lot of them. Kamieniecki was from Mount Clemens, which is closer to Detroit than Flint. But his wife was from Grand Blanc, the Flint suburb where we lived.

My friends at the local baseball card store stayed on top of such things, too. Dave “Pop” Zittel was a retired school administrator who was active with sports programs and opened the store with his brother as a hobby. He knew everyone, and told me Kamieniecki was moving into the area. And we had read that he was having some kind of neck surgery during the off-season.

But I never thought that the guy living upstairs might be the Yankees pitcher. And we barely took notice when the family moved out after a short time. People moved in and out all the time.A new family moved in, and one day they placed a letter atop of the mailbox in the foyer, and wrote on the envelope “Please forward to Scott Kamieniecki” and the address.

Finally, all the dots were connected … neck surgery … building a house … wife from the area … A MAJOR LEAGUE PITCHER IS LIVING RIGHT ABOVE ME! Or, more accurately, was living above me.

My wife said, “Oh yeah, when I helped the woman with the box I saw all kinds of bags with the Yankees logo on them.”

“And you neglected to tell me this why?” I asked.

“Well, when the woman closed the door on me, I thought ‘That’s not very nice' and forgot all about the bags.”

I was crushed. The guy was living right upstairs from my baseball room.

Looking back, I realize this could have gone one of two ways:

Scenario one: Me and Scott become tight buddies, he comes downstairs to hang out and tells funny stories about Rickey Henderson while I throw some brats on the Weber. Then he teaches me a devastating change-up so I can finally beat Will at Wiffle Ball. When the Bombers pull into Detroit during the season he sets us up with tickets behind home plate.

Scenario two: Overcome at having a Major League ballplayer live upstairs, I’m reduced to a shaking, pointing mass whenever I see my new neighbor, who humors me once by accepting a tour of the baseball room and deeply regrets it when I retell the story of Reggie Jackson and the Hall of Fame ball for the third time. From that point on, Scott tiptoes past my door and up the stairs every time he enters the building to avoid making contact.

Yup, I think we know which one of those paths we would have walked down.

Kamieniecki, who still lives near Flint, had a nice career in the majors, pitching 10 years with a 53-49 record and 4.52 ERA. He was with the Yanks from 1991 to 1996, spent some time with Baltimore from 1997 to 1990 and split 2000 with the Indians and Braves.

And let’s just say I’ve made it a point to thoroughly get to know any and all new neighbors – just in case.

Baseball Place No. 80: Massive Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum; Place 80A: Massive Cleveland Stadium

It must have seemed strange for the 1958 Dodgers to go from their beautiful and intimate Ebbets Field – which was kind of like Citi Field without the majesty of the home run apple – to the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum.

The stadium, home to two Olympics and a lot football, was retrofitted for baseball so the Dodgers had a place to play while their palace at Chavez Ravine was under construction.

Josh Pahigan takes us there for place No. 80 in his “101 Baseball Places to See Before You Strike Out.”

I was in L.A. for a conference in 2003, and a little time to sneak in visits to Dodger Stadium and Angels Stadium, but didn’t get to the coliseum.

Sounds like people went to Dodgers games in those days to see major league baseball without actually getting close to much baseball, since many of the seats were ridiculously far away from the action.

Other things were too close, like the leftfield fence. The wall was just 251 feet from home plate – or 30 feet closer than the fence on my softball field. Of course, I’d like to have the 42-foot-tall fence that Dodger pitchers had when I take the hill, since my slow-pitch arcs occasionally arc back over by head and land on the adjoining field.

That happened to Dodger pitchers, too. There was talk of adding a second fence 80 feet beyond the first, and balls that dropped between the two would count as ground rule doubles, but it never happened.

Despite the quirks, the team drew nearly 93,000 fans to 1959 World Series games, a record that still stands.

I did enjoy a game in the stadium that previously held that mark, at 86,288 fans. That would be:

Place 80A: Cleveland Stadium

Cleveland was the last stop of the epic baseball road trip of 1989. Rick, Mark and I watched the Red Sox and Blue Jays at SkyDome on June 30, and the plan was to make the fairly short trip through Niagara Falls and to Ohio with plenty of time for fun.

Alas, we were unaware that July 1 is Canada Day. And apparently Canadians celebrate by packing as many cars as they can on the 403 because we spent much of the day stuck in traffic. After several hours of inching along, we started to fear that we would not get to the game in Cleveland on time.

We got there just in time, frazzled, on each other’s nerves and out of film. I set off on my own to do some exploring.

Cleveland Stadium was ready for baseball by 1932, and was massive. The centerfield fence was 470 feet from home until owner Bill Veeck created an inner-fence to cut down the distance.

Veeck, a known bad ass, actually moved fences in and out depending on whether his team would benefit until the American League banned the practice.

The old stadium was one of the most derided in the game when we arrived. It was old, and so huge that even a nice-sized crowd left the place looking half-empty. It didn’t help that the Indians were horrible and had been for years.

We did get a close-up view of former Mets hero Jesse Orosco, who was then on the Indians and appearing in a pre-game autograph booth for several hundred children.

Wondering around the stadium, I heard the unmistakable boom-boom-boom of a bass drum coming from the outer reaches of the ballpark. Bing a National League fan, I was not familiar with John Adams, a super fan who brings his drum and pounds away to inspire the team.

The sound echoed throughout the stadium, and I wandered out to meet Adams, sitting in a section he pretty much had to himself, with the drum propped in the seat in front of them.

We watched the game together, and he converted me. I described the scene in my story about the trip for the Bridgeport Post.

“People say a lot of bad things about this stadium, but they’re wrong,” he said, drumstick in hand, waiting for the next Tribe hit.

“First of all, there are plenty of great seats. This place seats more than 70,000, so I know I’ll never have any trouble getting a ticket.

“Now I know a lot of people say, ‘Yeah, but there are columns that block the view,’” he said, pointing the drumstick at the upper deck. “But that’s bull and I’ll tell you why. Let’s say there are 10,000 seats that in some way block a portion of the field. Even better, for the sake of argument, let’s say there are 20,000. That still leaves 50,000 seats with an unobstructed view. And 50,000 seats are more than Wrigley Field has in the entire ballpark.”

Adams was cut off when Indians star Joe Carter, one of our favorite non-Mets, launched a two-run homer, sending Adams into a drum-pounding frenzy.

The game was a good one, with Mark McGwire and Dave Henderson – another of our favorite non-Mets – starting for Oakland, and Rickey Henderson delivering a broken-bat pinch single to drive in the winning runs.

Adams sold me on the park. It was comfortable, and a great contrast from our previous day at the brand new SkyDome. It became one of my favorites.

The Indians moved to their new park, Jacobs Field, in 1994 and the Browns left for Baltimore after the 1995 season.

That left the massive stadium without a tenant and a date with the wrecking ball. Pieces of the stadium were dumped into Lake Erie to form a reef for fishermen.

Not every piece. Will was living in Columbus at the time, and called with some news. The Indians were selling seats for a reasonable price. He was making the trip to Cleveland to get one, and wanted to know if I wanted one, too. Actually, he knew I wanted one. That was a rhetorical question.

He said workers directed him to drive right into the stadium, where they loaded two yellow seats into his car. Andrew and I made the trip down soon after, a wonderful reunion. And today, the seat from Cleveland Stadium is one of the centerpieces of the basement baseball room.

Place No. 79: AT&T Bricktown Ballpark; 79A: Roger Dean Stadium

Sometimes a ballpark is created to revitalize a neighborhood, and other times the ballpark comes first, hoping to spur development.

Josh Pahigian takes us to the former for place No. 79 in his “101 Baseball Places to See Before You Strike Out.” AT&T Bricktown Ballpark in Oklahoma City is the home of the Pacific Coast League’s RedHawks.

Sounds like a nice place. The closest I’ve been to Oklahoma City is Wichita, Kan. while covering some of the court appearances following the bombing.

Josh once again dwells on Mickey Mantle, forcing us to continue to question his cred as a Red Sox fan. But he also describes statues of former Met Warren Spahn and Will’s man Johnny Bench.

Josh says the ballpark, which opened in 1998, revitalized a part of Oklahoma City that had fallen into decay.

But I’m reminded of another ballpark that opened that year that was intended to create a neighborhood, rather than restore one.

Alternative place No. 79A; Roger Dean Stadium, Jupiter, Fla.

I’ve seen three minor-league games at Roger Dean, and four spring training games, but truth is I’ve been to the park a lot more often than that. It’s practically my baseball home away from home.

The yard, also an attractive brick stadium, opened as the spring training home for the St. Louis Cardinals and the Montreal Expos, as well as Florida State League’s Jupiter Hammerheads.

The Expos later moved north to Melbourne, replaced by the Marlins, giving them a spring site about 90 minutes from their usual digs. The Palm Beach Cardinals, also of the FSL, joined the action not much later, creating what I’m suspecting is the only complex used by two separate major and minor league operations. Also strange that two teams in the same park have different city names, especially since Palm Beach is about 20 minutes away.

The ballpark is a classic example of what my Dad calls the “If you build it, they will come” theory of Florida development. It’s the centerpiece of Abacoa which turned miles and miles of scrub pines and little else into neighborhoods, a Florida Atlantic University campus and a host of other operations.

The area directly surrounding the park is filled with shops and restaurants, and it’s always fun to walk around after a game.

My folks live about five miles away, so we seem to find a reason to pop over to the stadium every time I’m in town. Sometimes we’re just checking out the gift shop, other times we’re walking around the back fields watching practice.
Tim Teufel and Dan Murray watching their St. Lucie Mets players at an FSL game in 2008.

This has led to multiple adventures, of course. Twice, my Dad and I were walking outside the park only to have foul balls clear the roof and bounce in front of us, including last year, when the Marlins were taking batting practice.

Walking around the back fields one time the Cardinals were in action, and we found Dennis Eckerlsey throwing batting practice to minor leaguers.

Another year we were allowed to enter the stadium when major leaguers were practicing and Mark McGwire was taking grounders at first base with John Mabry. Someone I believed to be then Cards GM Walt Jocketty saw my son sitting in the front row and walked over and gave him a ball.


And one time during a spring game, I saw a guy who looked like Bruce Hornsby sitting with his sons. You have to understand that I’m a big Hornsby fan, and I’ve had the chance to chat with him at a couple events before. He’s really friendly and accessible to fans.

Of course, both times were at places where I was sure it was him – performances and CD signing events.

But this was a guy wearing a Cardinals cap who looked like Bruce, and sounded like Bruce when I could listen without being intrusive. I don’t have too many random celebrity sightings. None, actually, unless you count Ed Koch in a New York restaurant while he was mayor.

After several innings of watching and wondering, I noticed the guy get up and head toward a concession stand. I followed, since it was time for a Diet Coke and chatting with someone in line seems less intrusive that interrupting them watching a game.

After pausing for a moment or two, I made eye contact and got bold. “Excuse me,” I asked. “Are you Bruce Hornsby?”

He smiled and said, “Yes,” and told him I was a big fan. He shook my hand and chatted for a little bit. He’s friends with Tony LaRussa, who invited him and his boys out to see a game.

We’re heading down to Florida again next month, and with two teams sharing Roger Dean, there’s always a game to see. But I don’t think we’ll be bumping into another rock star.

Baseball Place No. 78: Mickey Mantle Memorial Exhibit; and 78A: The Grand Rapids Sports Hall of Fame and an amazing career lasting one at-bat.

I have nothing against Mickey Mantle, mind you.

Other than his Yankee taint, of course. But then, that’s like asking Mrs. Lincoln if there was anything she liked about going to see “Our American Cousin.”

But I can co-exist with the Mick. Josh Pahigain takes us to a Mickey Mantle Memorial Exhibit at the Hollywood at Home video store in the Lakeview Shopping Center in Grove, Okla. As place No. 78 in the “101 Baseball Places to See Before You Strike Out.”

Yes, after giving Josh a couple months off, we’re back on the trail.

The video store tribute is a fan’s appreciation of the slugger, who grew up in nearby Commerce. The owner became friends with Mick and started collecting items that were taking up more and more of the floor space in his store. Now he has all sorts of things, including Mantle’s high school locker.

It’s probably the biggest collection of Mantle memorabilia outside of Cooperstown, and it sounds like it was gathered for the right reasons.

The trouble is that I tend to be more interested in players like Don Eaddy. That takes us to:

Alternative place No. 78A: Grand Rapids Sports Hall of Fame.

To learn about Eaddy, we need to go from exhibits in a in a video store to a displays spread throughout the Van Andel Arena in downtown Grand Rapids.

The Hall of Fame was started in 1995 and is up to 110 inductees, including President Gerald R. Ford for his turns on the gridiron.

The Hall honors people from all sports and even one of my colleagues at the Grand Rapids Press. Naturally, I’m drawn toward the baseball players, including:

Chad Curtis, who I’ve learned is a nice guy despite Yankee taint.

Dave Rozema and Mickey Stanley – a pair of guys with Tigers World Series rings.

Jim Kaat, who actually is from Zeeland, about a half-hour away.

Wally Pipp, who was a darn fine player who did not get a headache, as the myth tells us.

Rick Miller, who played for the Red Sox and the Angels between 1971 and 1985

Connie Wisniewski, a pitcher who holds a record .690 winning percentage for the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League.

Benny McCoy, who played for the Tigers and Athletics between 1938 and 1941.

Phil Regan, who piled up a 96-81 record between 1960 and 1972, and later piloted the Orioles. More recently, he took the helm of the West Michigan Whitecap here in Grand Rapids, and I sort of suspect that was kind of a hobby job.

Jim Command, who played parts of two seasons with the Phillies in 1954 and 1955. But more interestingly, Baseball Reference lists that his nicknames were “Igor” and “Gor,” with no indication why.
"Stubby" Overmire's Tigers jersey is among the artifacts on display at the arena.

Frank “Stubby” Overmire, who pitched for the Tigers, Browns and the Yankees between 1943 and 1952.

Then I came to Don Eaddy, who, unlike the other players, I was not aware of. A quick look at his stats tells me he played ever-so-briefly for the Cubs in 1934, appearing in 15 games but having but one plate appearance – a strike out.

I realized there must be more to this story, because you don’t get enshrined anywhere for those numbers.

I poked through out library at the Press, and came across a biography on www.baseballreferece.com.

Eaddy,it seems was an incredible high school athlete and a big star at University of Michigan, playing on a national champion.

He graduated with his bachelor’s degree then signed with the Cubs, starting in the minors in Des Moines -- turning a triple play at shortstop in his first professional game – then hitting .304 in Burlington.

The next season he went to spring training with the Cubs, was sent back to Des Moines and was hitting .390 in 11 games when he was called up to serve in the United States Air Force, not returning until 1958.

Getting back to baseball in 1959, he was allowed to be kept on the Cubs' roster as a 26th player, because of his status as a veteran. He pinch ran in a handful of games, was sent back to the minors and returned to Chicago in July.

Baseballreference.com reports Eaddy “appeared in 15 games for the Cubs, 14 times as a pinch runner, scoring 3 runs. He played one game in the field, at third base on Aug. 1 against the Cincinnati Redlegs. He replaced At Schult in the bottom of the 5th inning. He committed an error in the bottom of the 6th on a Roy McMillan groundball that scored Jerry Lynch. He then batted against Bob Purkey in the top of the 7th and struck out.”

“After the season, he was sent outright to Fort Worth, as he was by now out of options. In Cuba that winter, he led the league in walks and helped Cienfuegos win the 1960 Caribbean Series title.

He stayed in the Cubs organization for five more seasons, playing in San Antonio and at Salt Lake City. In 1963, Eaddy contracted hepatitis but in the winter played in Nicaragua, batting .347 and leading his team to a win in the international Series.


“That winter, Cubs second baseman Ken Hubbs died in an airplane clash, and Eaddy was seen as a potential replacement. He failed to grab the job in spring training and returned to Salt Lake City for the 1964 season, where he played 137 games and hit .271. He called it quits at the end of the year.”

Eaddy, I also learned, was black, playing in the majors less than 10 years after Jackie Robinson’s debut. Even though baseball was integrated, you have to wonder if he would have received more opportunities had he been white.

I thought about Moonlight Graham, the real player W. P. Kinsella introduced us to in Field of Dreams. His dream was to get that one at-bat. Eaddy at least got that opportunity.

Standing at the plate, do you think it ever entered his mind that it wold be the only time? How many times must that chance have replayed in his mind, over and over.

But reading columns from some of our writers after Eaddy passed away in 2008, I didn’t get the sense that he was bitter.

Eaddy was in the third class of players inducted into the Grand Rapids Hall of Fame, enshrined, in fact, alongside President Ford. Not bad company – and a fascinating story for us to remember.

Baseball Place No. 77: St. Louis Walk of Fame; No. 77A: Busch Stadium walkway

One of the reasons St. Louis is such a nice city is that downtown is very “walkable.”

I was in town in 2008 for a conference, and got up early each morning just so I could take long walks to see the dawn light reflecting off the glorious Arch and the ballpark, then later to Union Station.

Josh Pahigian takes us to the city’s Loop neighborhood for place No. 77 in his “101 Baseball Places to See Before You Strike Out” for the St. Louis Walk of Fame.

It’s another place with questionable baseball ties, since only 11 of the 116 people honored have ties to the game.

The list includes people you’d expect, people who either played for the Cardinals like Bob Gibson and Lou Brock or are from the city, like former Mets Manager Yogi Berra.

I found a more baseball-related walk of fame on one of my morning strolls. That would be:

Baseball Place No. 77A: Sidewalk around Busch Stadium.

The Cardinals, it should be noted, tend to do things properly. They don’t just have a fan walk, where fans can purchase beloved bricks with their names. The Cards use those bricks to surround stones that tell stories about great players and events.

I couldn’t help but get sucked in, reading the stones and learning things with each step.


Two Mets, one stone: Fernando Tatis gets some love for his two grannies off Chan Ho Park.
This one has some accuracy issues in the headline. Carlton baffled most of the Mets that night, but not Ron Swoboda, who hit two home runs, leading Carlton with 19 Ks but one L for the night. Just shows you how magical those 1969 Mets were in September.
The new Busch overlaps with the previous stadium, and the walkway shows some of the landmarks, such as where the outfield wall.
Walking around the front of the stadium and you see statues of great Cardinals and Cool Papa Bell that used to be at the previous Busch. It seems a little odd that they're small, but that makes them pretty accessible, too. They're easy to see and photograph.
The greatest Cardinal of them all, Stan Musial, always had the largest statue at Busch. Now he gets his own plaza on the walkway.

The mighty Mississippi is just a couple blocks from the ballpark, and this shoot of the moon and the Arch is my favorite from the morning walks.

Baseball place No. 76: National College Baseball Hall of Fame; 76A: Museum of the Gulf Coast and the short Mets career of Chuck McElroy

Chuck McElroy’s Met career didn’t amount to too much. But at least he can say he was traded for Jesse Orosco. Not that Jesse…well, we’re getting ahead of ourselves.

The point is that McElroy’s Mets career was sadly overlooked in the display of his career at the Museum of the Gulf Coast that I saw in October in Port Arthur, Texas.

Josh Pahigian takes us to a different Texas museum, the National College Baseball Hall of Fame, as place No. 76 in his “101 Baseball Places to See Before You Strike Out.”

Actually, the museum I went to might be bigger. The college baseball hall is an exhibit in a library at Texas Tech University in Lubbock, though Josh reports there are plans to expand into a separate building.

Lubbock is a long way from Beaumont, where I spent a week helping my mother-in-law and her sister. After dropping them off at an appointment, I was happily sent to explore the area’s many museums.

The Museum of the Gulf Coast looked pretty interesting, and Port Arthur was close enough for me to get there, make a quick tour and get back in time.

I passed what I can only assume to be the world’s largest oil refinery before arriving at a costal town that looked like it had been absolutely devastated by Hurricane Rita. In fact, the museum was one of the only buildings that appeared to be standing and open in what was a downtown area.

I got the impression that the museum doesn’t get too many visitors, largely because the person collecting admission told me far, far more than I ever wanted to know. Port Arthur in a nutshell: Indians, oil and Janis Joplin.
This is a replica of Janis Joplin's car. The original is at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

I made quick work of the Indians and the oil and proceeded straight to the famous people of Port Arthur section, which was pretty big considered the town didn’t seem all that big.

The music section had a large display for Joplin – even selling bricks from her original home in the gift shop for $25 – and the Big Bopper, who died in the plane crash with Buddy Holly and Ritchie Valens.

Then I moved into the sports section. Former Cowboys coach Jimmy Johnson gets big treatment. Former Jets DB Gus “Hound Dog” Hollomon gets to show off one of his helmets and a jersey that looks kind of like a onesy.

Then I found the baseball players. Actually, Rangers owner Tom “I over paid for a juiced ARod” Hicks gets a bust and jerseys from the Rangers and Dallas Stars.


Then I saw Angels pitcher Ben Weber’s jersey and even Xavier Hernandez’s rainbow-sleeved Astros jersey – excellent – and Yankees cap – ick. I averted my eyes when I saw that, like I did when I saw the section about the Indians being cannibals.

But sharing the display was some of McElroy’s gear, including one of his Phillies’ jerseys.

Alas, nothing with the proud orange and blue Chuck wore for 15 games in 1999.

McElroy came over in the trade with the Rockies with Darryl Hamilton for Rigo Beltran, Brian McRae and minor-leaguer Thomas Johnson.

Hamilton was a great pick-up. McElroy pitched 13.1 innings, giving up 12 hits and 8 walks, with 5 runs for a 3.38 ERA. He didn’t have any wins or saves, but no losses, either.

About the best thing you can say about his tenure is that he was traded for Jesse Orosco. Sadly, it wasn’t the young, strapping Orosco who came from the Twins and went on to pile up 107 saves, third-most in the Mets history.

Instead, it was a 43-year-old Jesse, coming over from the Orioles. Orosco never made to a second tour with the Mets, though, traded in mid-spring training for Super Joe McEwing – who was a pretty good pickup for the Mets of 2000.

That’s stuff the fine residents of Port Arthur deserved to know.

Baseball place No. 75: Distant Replays; and No. 75A: Gerry Cosby's and the first real jersey

Back in the day, you couldn’t go buy a baseball jersey at any strip mall or place an order for any team at MLB.com.

It took a special store to have such things.

Josh Pahagian takes us to a jersey store, Distant Replays in Atlanta, as place No. 75 in his “101 Baseball Places to See Before You Strike Out.”

Sounds like a neat place, full of retro shirts, caps and jerseys. They have a nice Web site, too. But I’ve never been to the store.

But it reminded me of another store that, when I was younger, almost seemed as good as a trip to Cooperstown.

Alternative Place No. 75A: Gerry Cosby’s in Westbury, N.Y.

I love baseball jerseys about as much as the game itself. I’ve always paid close attention to what players were wearing, taking notice of every slight change and patch. The uniforms worn on the fronts of baseball cards were studied just as closely as the statistics on the back.

Growing up in the 1970s, there weren’t many places where kids could obtain something that looked like a real baseball jersey. Obtaining the real thing was beyond comprehension, of course.

And I had my assortment of Mets t-shirts, sometimes with SEAVER 41 emblazoned with iron-on letters across the back.

Then I heard that polyester versions of the jerseys in kids’ sizes were for sale. Naturally, I became somewhat obsessed with this, and my parents knew about Cosby’s.

I remember the first time we went to the store, which seemed to be filled mostly with hockey equipment. But there was a section of shelves filled with replica jerseys.

And the best part was that the store didn’t just have the Mets, which were the obvious and automatic first purchase. But there seemed to be all the teams. This was a slice of baseball heaven, right there in Westbury.

I remember making the clerk pull down shirt after shirt, building a pile of polyester on the glass-topped counter for me to touch and ponder.

And in that glass were the real deal, actual authentic jerseys. I was amazed that a person could buy such a thing.

Needless to say, my birthday and Christmas want lists for the next years were to be filled right there at Cosby’s.

Before long, I had acquired the Dodgers and Padres, Expos and Phillies, Giants and, best of all, a rainbow-striped Astros replica.

Kids in school didn’t get it. I remember one classmate looking at me in total disbelief and disgust, saying, “Why are you wearing an Astros jersey?”

The answer, of course, is that if you can come into possession of an Astros rainbow jersey, you wear it proudly. Duh.

In 1984 I received what might still be considered the best Christmas gift ever. Naturally, it came from Cosby’s.

I remember exactly where I was sitting in my parents’ den when I opened the box containing a real, live Mets home jersey, the pull-over with the racing stripes.

It was magical. And it was almost incomprehensible that I could own the very same jersey the Mets wear on the field.

We added the anniversary patch in 1986.

Naturally, this jersey was constantly and considered suitable attire or any occasion – including proposing to my wife. True!

I’ve collected many other major and minor league jerseys since, both authentic and game-worn. There was a time when they were semi-affordable, especially if I could find a good sale. Those days have passed.

And we went back to Cosby’s for several years because they could customize jerseys with the proper letters and numbers. Let’s just say there must have been much celebrating at Cosby’s when the Mets obtained Eddie Murray.

The first and most-special jersey no longer fits, but I was proud to pass it down to my son, who wore it to his first home Mets game when we went to Citi Field last year. It’s treats it with the respect a family heirloom deserves.

I believe the Cosby’s in Westbury is long gone, and I recently learned that the Madison Square Garden store has moved. The company’s Web site indicates it still sells all sorts of equipment.

I can’t tell if it still sells jerseys, but I hope so.

Place No. 74: Bob Feller Museum; and Place No. 74A: Bob Feller statue and the amazing man himself

The only way you could learn more about Bob Feller than visiting the Bob Feller Museum is to spend a couple minutes with “Rapid Robert” himself.

I’m convinced about that after having the pleasure of meeting Feller a couple times.

Josh Pahigian takes us to Feller’s hometown of Van Meter, Iowa and the Feller Museum as place No. 74 in his “101 Baseball Places to See Before You Strike Out.”

I’ve never been there, so I’ll substitute:

Place No. 74A: Bob Feller statue at Progressive Field, Cleveland

It’s a huge statue just outside the rightfield gate at the Indians’ home, a fine meeting spot before or after a game, as you can tell from Will and I hanging out here in the mid-1990s.

If you’re an autograph collector and you don’t have Feller’s signature, that’s on you and not Feller. He is among the nicest and most prolific signers in the game.

My experiences with Feller were a few years prior to the new stadium and that statue. I was living in Connecticut and working in the Bridgeport Post’s Valley Bureau. Feller had relatives in nearby Waterbury.

Each summer he’d visit, and would be sure to line up a handful of appearances in the area. I’m sure he made a few bucks – and not many, based on the low-for-the-time rates he was charging. But I think Feller just liked meeting fans and talking baseball.

I was a little nervous the first time I met him at a card shop in Seymour, Conn. in 1987. I brought a ball for him to sign, and there were only a handful of other people in the small store.

With little prompting, Feller starting telling me about his amazing Hall of Fame career. After asking my name, he wrote on an 8.5 by 11 sheet with his photo on the front, and flipped it over to show me where it listed all his career achievements.

I heard about the 266 wins and three no-hitters, and how he could have had more of each had he not enlisted in the Navy after Pearl Harbor, spending 44 months serving his country and earning eight battle stars.

He pointed out the line reading “The only pitcher in Major League history to win 20 games or more games before age 21,” then crossed out “only” and replaced it with “first,” since Dwight Gooden had matched the feat.

While proud of all he had done, Feller was humble, too. I handed the Hall of Famer a new ball to sign, and he chose the spot above the Rawlings logo, instead of the sweet spot, where only, managers and the best players sign. I met Johnny Mize a short while later, and he had no qualms writing his name in that spot on that ball.

I met him again the next year at a New Britain Red Sox game, sitting at a table near the concession stands, signing photos and telling stories. He signed everything for everyone and then walked around the stands talking, signing and shaking hands.

He come off a little crusty in interviews these days, not having a lot of love for modern players who don’t approach the game the same way. Don’t expect Feller to ever welcome Pete Rose, Barry Bonds or Mark McGwire into the fraternity with open arms.

But he’s also still throwing in Old-timers Games, too, and he's in his 90s. I think Feller views himself not just as a standard bearer for old school hardball, but as an ambassador for the game. And to that end, few are better than the “Heater from Van Meter.”

Place No. 73: Baseball Reliquary; and Alternative Place No. 73A: South Shore Sports Legends and a Mets tragedy

I confess I had to look up “reliquary,” which the American Heritage Dictionary defines as “a receptacle, such as a coffer or shrine, for keeping or displaying sacred relics.”

We need to know this because Josh Pahigian takes us back to Los Angeles for The Baseball Reliquary or place No. 73 in his “101 Baseball Places to See Before You Strike Out.”

Spread over several locations, the reliquary’s mission is to display objects “that more conservative, timid, or uninformed baseball museums have failed to bring to the public’s attention.”

According to Josh, the collection seems to run toward the scandalous, with items like thong panties worn by Wade Boggs’ mistress, a half-smoked cigar Babe Ruth allegedly left behind at a brothel and a signed record from “Disco Demolition Night.”

You can learn more about it here.

“Whereas the sine qua non of most baseball museums are bats, balls, and gloves, the Baseball Reliquary has pursued a more visionary acquisitions policy, which has resulted in many extraordinary discoveries,” reads the organization’s Web site.

“While each artifact is approached with meticulous scholarship and veracity, the ability of an object to invoke a sense of wonderment in, and to inspire the imagination of, the viewer is of supreme importance. The Baseball Reliquary's collections chart an eclectic terrain, and it is the purpose of this guide to introduce the public to the scope of materials that have been procured.”

Considering I once picked up some of Mike Schmidt’s lawn clippings, I suppose I can’t be hard on these guys.

I do like quirky little museums, so that takes us to:

Alternative Place No. 73A: South Shore Sports Legends display at the Indiana Welcome Center

You never know what you’ll find when you pull off the highway.

I had a mission while traveling back from Texas last month, trying to find postcards, key chains and a snow globe from each state I drove through, presents for my nephews.

Indiana was destined to be a challenge, since I’m only in it for the stretch from Chicago to Michigan City, and most places along that stretch offer souvenirs featuring the Windy City. Guess there’s not a huge demand for Gary snow globes.

But there is an elaborate welcome center in Hammond, partly shaped like a barn with a large exhibit space and a museum about John Dillinger, including his “death trousers.”

I have no interest in learning anything about bank robbers. They’re evil, like Yankees, but not as arrogant. And I was mildly offended to see photos of his corpse for sale in the gift shop near items from “A Christmas Story.” Ick.

And the key chain-postcard-snow globe selection was rather poor, too.
But I did wander over to a temporary exhibit called South Shore Sports Legends, saluting athletes from Northwest Indiana. There wasn’t much to it, other than a series of banners for each inductee and a small display case.

Among the 2009 inductees, I saw a baseball player in a Mets uniform, a blue batting practice jersey with the tail under the team name -- the short-lived style from the mid-90s – and pants with the racing stripes from the 1980s and early 1990s.

I had only a faint recollection of Tim Bishop, and was sad to read at the bottom of the banner that he passed away April 18, 1997.


It said he was one of only two players ever selected for state all-star teams in three sports, was selected by the Mets in the 1994 amateur draft, batted .325 for Kingsport in 1996 and that he played for Columbia.

A quick Google search revealed the rest of the story, and it’s pretty sad. In a New York Times story from June 1997, Buster Olney reported that Bishop and a Bombers teammate were driving home after a game was postponed.

A tire blew out and the car spun around into a highway passing lane. The players got out, but Bishop went back to turn on the hazard lights. As he was doing that, the car was struck by another car, throwing Bishop over the median and into the path of another vehicle. He was just 20.

Olney reported the Mets two months later asked for resignations from Bombers manager Doug Mansolino, pitching coach Dave Jorn and coach Tim Leiper.

Olney reports that a “high-ranking official in the Mets' front office,” told him the three men did not appropriately address whether players had been drinking on the team bus before the crash.

Frank Thomas, from the original Mets team, also is in the Sports Legends hall, along with baseball players from lesser teams, like Ron Kittle, Don Larsen, Kenny Lofton.

Sadly, the display was taken down this month and is looking for a permanent home. That’s a shame, because it will make it more difficult for fans to learn about player like Bishop. And I'd rather learn about people like him and Frank Thomas as I stretch my legs and buy a post card than some outlaw.