Category: Sherm Lollar (Page 9 of 9)
Chicago White Sox Catcher
My wife is working today in Chicago, so I’m doing my retirement thing here in “My Kind of Town.” The nice thing about retirement is that it can be done from anywhere. She did seem a bit jealous this morning, as she went one direction to make calls and I went the other for a Diet Coke. However, I think that today will be considerably easier on her than the past few days of tending to the demands of her 95-year-old mother: errands, closet cleaning, bank duties, dining, cemetery, wheelchair pushing, and the frustrating efforts to communicate. We’re both glad to be away from the assisted-living environment that doesn’t exactly exude positive vibes.
Technically, it’s “Date Night,” so she’ll have yet another reason to want to get back home as soon as possible. We’re going to a White Sox game tonight and she’d undoubtedly rather “set her hair on fire” than watch baseball and eat hot-dogs. Only I am looking forward to Date Night this week! If she had her way, we’d probably be paying top dollar to see Hamilton, or at least go back to Joe’s Stone Crab for seafood and Sancerre. That’s where we started this journey a few days ago to bring us back home to Indiana. We did stop by to see the frozen-tongue of Flick stuck to the flagpole from the Christmas Story at the Indiana Welcome Center next door to our hotel. It’s often the main highlight of these quarterly trips back to visit, if that gives you any idea of the level of excitement sometimes associated with this treks to the Hoosier State. We’re in a different hotel room every night, up early every morning, and sluggish from our daily intake of fast food. Not to mention, exhausted from long flights, traffic hassles associated with hours in a rental car, and conversations with her nearly deaf mother, often written on a dry-erase board. I’m proud to say though that we had no major disagreements, other than where to turn.
My mother-in-law is a big sports fan, although apparently this wasn’t always the case. It certainly didn’t rub off on her daughters! We did take her parents to their very first Cubs game at Wrigley Field nearly 18 years ago. Mark Grace was her favorite player at that time. It’s probably because of her hearing issues that sports became the focal point of her television viewing after my father-in-law passed away. She could easily follow games without dealing with closed captioning, and always tuned-in for Cubs games It’s become a common bond between the two of us, and gives my wife a break during our visits. We watched them play the Nationals the last couple nights, bemoaning their sluggish first half of the season. We also were at Wrigley Field for last year’s World Series games 4 and 5, and watched game six from Cleveland with her at the assisted living home. Honestly, if the Cubs were in town tonight we would have undoubtedly gone to Wrigley Field rather than Guaranteed Rate where the White Sox play. However, since the Sox are playing the Yankees, the game will definitely bring back many memories. (See post #148: Summer baseball)
I haven’t seen the Yankees play in Chicago since 1960 when my dad took me to a game at original Comiskey Park. I had just become a fan of the White Sox and their catcher, #10 Sherm Lollar, most likely because they had played in the World Series the previous year. My had dad actually talked me out of being a Yankees fan that previous year in favor of a team closer to our Indiana home. He hated the Yankees, but didn’t exactly have the White Sox in mind as my team of choice. He was a Tigers and Cubs fan, and was hoping that I would follow suit. Because of his efforts, I was a frustrated baseball fan for 46 years until the White Sox finally won it all. I could have been an obnoxious Yankee fan, like so many others I’ve known through the years!
Original Comiskey Park and its exploding scoreboard named “The Monster” was right next door to where they built the new Comiskey Park – U.S. Cellular Field . Just last year it was re-named Guaranteed Rate Field. My White Sox finally won the World Series in 2005 in the new Comiskey Park, and I had the pleasure of attending a couple of those games. It was the last time I saw a game played there, even though we drive by it all the time on our route to and from Indiana. Unfortunately, during the last dozen years, the team has been consistently “down,” and many White Sox fans, like myself, are concerned about the Guaranteed Rate association with the stadium and their logo that consists of a giant red, downward pointed arrow. Don’t rub it in!
I return to the field tonight, after 12 years of enjoying season tickets with the Cubs, while struggling to maintain my childhood loyalty to the White Sox. I’ve attended a couple of “Crosstown Classic” rivalry games at Wrigley in the meantime, so I didn’t totally forget about my allegance. I’ve also worn my White Sox jersey to a several Mariner’s games up in Seattle, since moving to nearby Portland. I’ve been to Yankee Stadiums, old and new, several times in the last few decades. In fact, my wife and I went to see the Yankees and Cleveland play in 1999 in original Yankee Stadium. We were just dating at the time, so we both made compromises. Instead of hot dogs we tried Dippin’ Dots for the first time, and between innings some guy told us to “get a room.” Six years later, as a married couple, we made a second compromise and went to see a Civic Theater presentation of “Damn Yankees,” with a show-stopping performance by the one-and-only Jerry Lewis. That was probably the best trade-off we ever made between her love of Theater and mine of Baseball.
Ironically. before we started dating, my wife had access to tickets through one of her suppliers, and got me seats to take my ex-father-in-law to a Yankees game in Tampa at Tropicana in 1998. He was one of those obnoxious Yankee fans, that I could have been just like if it weren’t for my dad. I saw those “Damn Yankees” beat the Red Sox in 2009 at new Yankee stadium, and repeat the feat against the Rays in 2004 at the old stadium. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever watched them lose. Hopefully, tonight will be the first time they go down in flames, and that my wife won’t set her hair on fire, instead of enjoying the game!
A friend of my just gave me an Indiana University basketball program for a 1945 game against the Minnesota Golden Gophers. It was six years before I was born, so to find something older than me is always rewarding. The game itself took place in the war years, so players were lost from the starting line-up to serve our country. The Hoosiers, were in fact coached by Harry Good, who replaced Branch McCracken on a interim basis the year before, allowing McCracken to serve his duties as a lieutenant in the U.S. Navy. Coach McCracken, who’s Hurryin’ Hoosiers won the National Championship in 1940, would return to lead the team in 1946.
The 1944-45 season was unremarkable. The team finished 10-11, 3-9 in the Conference, and did not qualify for post-season action. They lost eight of their last nine games, including that 48-56 game against the Golden Gophers, following leading scorer Gene Faris departure from the team for his call to military service. The game program was dated February 3, 1945, my Dad’s 24th birthday, and was distributed to fans during that unfortunate losing streak. My father had graduated from I.U. in 1942 along with my mother who was one-day younger. They married January 5, 1946, two days after the Hoosiers beat Butler 58-47 as part of an eight game winning streak in the final year of Harry Good’s tenure as interim coach.
There wasn’t much documented about the 1944-45 Minnesota Golden Gophers. They were coached for that single season by Weston Mitchell and finished the year at 8-13, including a loss to the Hurryin’ Hoosiers just prior to the long losing streak. I.U.’s Ray Brandenburg hit a last-second shot for that 48-46 victory. James Copeland, from my mom’s hometown of Elwood, Indiana, had 11 points to go with Brandenburg’s 10, and Gene Faris, in his last I.U. game until he returned from war duty in 1947, led the Hoosiers with 13 points.
In my opinion, the real story of the 1944-45 Hurryin’ Hoosiers was a bench player by the name of Ted Kluszewski. He was a 6’2″ freshman that year from Argos, Illinois and only played in two games. Kluszewski excelled in football and baseball at I.U. He probably joined the basketball team as a result of the attrition of players due to the war. The war affected his life in a positive way, as travel restrictions forced the Cincinnati Reds, who traditionally held spring training in Tampa, Florida, to train at Indiana from 1943-45. Kluszewski’s batting power drew the attention of Reds’ groundskeeper Matty Schwab and eventually team scouts offered him a contract. Kluszewski hit .443 for the I.U. baseball team in 1945 and was a football star on the 9-0-1 team, where he earned first-team Big Ten honors as an End. The team finished 4th in the final AP poll, just behind National Champion Army. Football kept Ted at I.U. until his graduation in 1946. By 1948, he was the Reds’ starting first baseman, where in a controversial move, he cut off the sleeves of his uniform to accommodate his massive shoulders and biceps.
“Big Klu” was a career .298 hitter with 279 home runs and 1,028 RBI in 1,718 games over 15 years. In ten of those years, he walked more often than he struck out, and during the 1955 season he hit 47 home runs and only struck out 40 times, a feat no one has yet to duplicate. He left the Reds in 1957, then played 100 games for the Pittsburgh Pirates, and traded to the Chicago White Sox at the end of the 1959 season, who were in a close pennant race.
He joined the “Go-Go” Sox in August of 1959 and powered them to the American League crown. In the first game of the World Series against the Dodgers, he hit two home runs and drove in five for an 11-0 White Sox rout. He ended up hitting .391 in the series with 3 HR and 10 RBI, and earned three 1960 Ford Falcons from Jim Moran, a Chicago automobile dealer. Kluszewski also achieved notoriety in having his name misspelled on the back of Bill Veek’s ground-breaking innovation to baseball jerseys. When Major League Baseball expanded in 1960, he was left unprotected and traded to the Los Angeles Angels for his final season. He died at age 63, after retiring as a Reds’ hitting coach.
The 1959 “Go-Go” Sox also featured my first baseball hero, Sherm Lollar. Sherm had a home run in game 4 of the series, the only other White Sox victory. Kluszewski’s third homer came in game 6, but the Dodgers prevailed to take the World Series. The “Big Klu” and Sherm Lollar connection is what makes the I.U. basketball program a special part of my collection. It also brings the two sports, basketball and football, together for a brief moment in history; and recognizes my dad’s birthday that he probably celebrated serving our country.
I came across a couple of baseball treasures this past weekend. I was able to add to my “unmatched” Sherm Lollar collection (Old Sport Shorts #5: Who was that masked man?) and I bought a glass sign that says, “COMISKEY PARK TICKET OFFICE.” It’s a cool addition to the office. The glass is chipped, the paint weathered, and the bottom line: fake. The guy who sold it to me for “less than half of what he paid for it” had thought it to be an original. He is an experienced collector who was fooled at its authenticity. “They can just about fake anything anymore,” were his words of frustration. I didn’t really care if it was original or not, and certainly didn’t want to pay the price of the original – if it even exists.
Caveat Emptor were the Latin words for “let the buyer beware,” I had learned back in business school at Indiana University. With modern technology, it’s just as easy make an exact copy of something, as it is to detect if it’s an original or not. It applies to all things of value, including fine wine if you watch the movie, “Sour Grapes.” If there are two things that the move to Oregon three years ago taught me, wine and baseball top any list. In my short time here, I’ve visited more wineries than ever, helped grow grapes, and have never had in my possession so many bottles. By the same token, I’ve rekindled a childhood interest in baseball cards, become a student of baseball history, and attended more baseball card collector shows than at any point in my life.
Can I tell a fake from an original? No. I just like to be surrounded by baseball history and never want to run out of wine. Would I invest in anything of value? No. I think I would be equally happy with a fake Monet, since I also have one of those in my office. I drink fake Coke, have a few fake teeth, and even have a fake watch. At one time, I had a fake ID, but you don’t need one anymore if you’re of retirement age like me. I do have a couple of originals in my collection, but none are of significant value to anyone else but me.
The same friend who sold me the Comiskey Park sign, also threw in an original Sports Illustrated poster of Walt “No Neck” Williams, another White Sox player like Sherm Lollar that few care about but me. As part of the “deal,” I’m also getting a fake copy of the Chicago Daily News from September 25, 1920 with the headline, “EIGHT OF WHITE SOX INDICTED.” It’s got fake yellow coloring, fake creases and folds, and fake photos of the infamous Black Sox players accused of throwing the 1919 World Series. It will still look good in my office, and the price was right. It is r”rare” when the White Sox make the World Series, let alone give it away.
Fortunately, I also doubt that my son is anxious for my death just so he can inherit my valuable collection of fakes, unknowns, and has-beens. I did leave them for him in my will, anyway since I do have a fake Ernie Banks jersey with a certified autograph, and other signed items that I witnessed personally. They will all probably be deemed fake sometime in the future. Sorry, kid!
Mike’s retirement adventures led to L.A., taking advantage of my wife’s business trip that included a company-paid hotel room. The evening before, I joined the “Tre Amigos” for an Oregon State victory over Portland University, preserving OSU’s #1 ranking in the college polls. Wednesday morning, a flight to LA, and a Metro Pass tour of the city, stopping at the Staples Center and sipping a couple Tito’s martinis at L.A.’s Union Station. XXX – eXtra dirty, eXtra dry, eXtra olives- my trademark drink, perfected in Austin, Texas where I met Tito of Tito’s Vodka fame.
I did have a Waldorf Salad (Am I in NY?) and Diet Coke to get both something healthy and effervescent in my stomach. Diet Coke and martini’s are a strange combination, but I need the caffeine to offset the sedative effects of alcohol. Who am I kidding? – I need the caffeine to keep me from taking a nap any afternoon. The prior night, I enjoyed a Widmer Crystal Gayle beer to tolerate the rainy conditions and get me in a baseball mood. “I feel the almost certain need for a beer and hot dog at Dodger Stadium tonight when they host the Padres.”
Here are some other random excerpts that I jotted down, waiting for the shuttle to the stadium:
“As I sat at the Union Station Traxx bar, I observed the other patrons partaking of a late afternoon drink. Many aren’t old enough to be retired like me, just taking a break from a frustrating Wednesday or perhaps contemplating a work victory or set-back by checking out early.”
“I won’t say that the day was without hassles. Navigating an unfamiliar city is stressful. I did some planning but had some reservations on finding my way. I am definitely direction-ally challenged, so the potential of getting lost was a constant concern. As it turned out, the Metro is definitely affordable and relatively easy to negotiate. I even found this shuttle from Union Station to Dodger Stadium, but could not find the L.A. Coliseum and some other sports landmarks that were in the area. I will join my wife on several other visits to the city going forward, as I learn from my mistakes.”
“I’m not a Dodgers fan, having adopted the Chicago White Sox as my first baseball love. The Sox lost to the Dodgers in the 1959 World Series. I was only 8 years old, but it was my first exposure to the game on television. Sherman Lollar, White Sox catcher, has always been my hero. I wrote a tribute to him two months ago in in this blog titled, “Who Was that Masked Man?”
“A friend of mine was legendary Dodger Manager, Walter Alston’s nephew. He got us great seats at Wrigley Field when the Dodgers played the Cubs. I got to meet him after the game along with several Dodger players. Also, a friend of mine’s father was Karl Spooner, who was a pitcher with the 1955 World Champion Brooklyn Dodgers. With these connections in mind, I will enjoy seeing the stadium and watching at least half of the game before finding my way to my wife’s hotel room in Beverly Hills”
As it turned out, I called Uber after the sixth inning and made my way out of the stadium. It was an eventful evening, the highlight was shaking hands with Tommy Lasorda. Lasorda actually replaced Walter Alston in 1976 as the Dodgers skipper. Between the two they won all six of the Dodger World Series Championships; The last was in 1988. Lasorda also guided the 2000 U.S.A. baseball team to an Olympic Gold Medal in Sydney, Australia. He was in a wheelchair in the suite area of the stadium, so that’s when I took the opportunity to speak with him. He’s 89 years old, seemed frail, but still had a spark in his eye. It’s difficult to see some of your childhood heroes in that state of life.
All these Dodger connections of mine were on that 1955 Dodger Championship team. Alston was the manager and both Spooner and Lasorda were pitchers. Alston died in 1984 at age 73, just a year after he was inducted into the National Baseball Hall of Fame. Spooner died the same year at age 52. There were many pictures of each of them in the museum area of the stadium, as well as a picture of #10 Sherm Lollar, catching against the Dodgers in one of the only World Series games played at the L.A. Coliseum in 1959. Walter Alston was the Dodgers manager for that World Series victory, as well. Baseball memories are some of my most treasured.
It was Fernando Valenzuela jersey night at Dodger Stadium so I walked away with some good experiences and a #34 jersey honoring the Dodger pitcher. He helped Lasorda’s Dodgers win the 1988 World Series, despite not playing in the post-season due to a shoulder injury. In 1990 he pitched his only no-hitter. His granddaughter threw out the ceremonial opening pitch.
The next day I did my morning run through Beverly Hills and toured the city on a Hop-On-Hop-Off bus. I saw most of the major sights and had lunch at In N’ Out Burger (this was an absolute must on my list of things to see and do). On the Uber ride back to the airport, I finally spotted the L.A. Coliseum. The Olympic torch over the entrance was burning, so I tried on-line to identify the reason why? It was recently lit for the 50th Anniversary of the J.F.K. assassination, to salute the L.A. Olympic Committee’s recent bid for the 2024 Olympics, and the opening game for the new L.A. Rams. I could not find an explanation for its glowing presence on my way out of town – maybe just a way to say Good-Bye?
“Now batting for the Chicago White Sox, catcher #10 Sherm Lollar.” Those words meant a lot to me and to probably thousands of other kids my age, as we crowded around the black and white TV set to watch the 1959 World Series. It was a rare treat to watch a baseball game on television. I remember being discouraged, the Dodgers already led the series two games to one, and the Sox were down 4-0 in the top of the 7th when Lollar hit a 3-run homer to tie the score and win my heart.
With the recent announcement and well-deserved induction of catcher Ivan Rodriguez into Baseball’s Hall of Fame, it reminded me how much the responsibilities of that position have evolved through the years. Catchers do so much more than just “catch” in today’s game, and to compare the output of modern day catchers to their predecessor’s decades ago is not a fair assessment of accomplishment. Sherm Lollar was one of the greatest catchers of his era, and deserves Hall of Fame consideration.
A catcher is a special type of athlete. It’s up and down from an uncomfortable squat inning after inning, it’s often guiding and supporting a star pitcher, and it’s being involved in every play. Arguably, no one touches the ball in a game more than the catcher, and no one on the field has a better view of the field of play. They are the field generals and often go on to be managers and coaches. It’s just another reason why these masked men, like Sherm Lollar, deserve more respect from the Baseball Hall of Fame.
As of January 2017, there were 317 Hall of Famers, including 220 former major league players. Other players, managers, and executives have been added to recognize the “Negro Leagues.” Baseball is a team game of nine positions. Mathematically, there should be approximately 25 players per position, 36 if you combine outfielders into a single position. However, with even the addition of Ivan Rodriguez, there are only 15 major league catchers in the Hall (plus 3 from the “Negro Leagues”). I feel this is the first injustice. Ask yourself these questions. What would a pitcher be without a catcher? Or the seven other teammates on the field, for that matter? By comparison, there are 77 pitchers that have been inducted. The other half of the battery deserves more attention. Or, just call it the Pitcher’s Hall of Fame, since they are one out of three players enshrined.
We don’t judge pitchers based solely on their hitting skills. We judge them on their ability to pitch, so the main criteria for a catcher should be their defensive skills. Although, this is where the game has evolved. Today’s catchers can do it all, and their statistics now make them more competitive with other stars of the game. In simple terms, however, pitchers pitch and catchers catch – that’s the way the game was designed. Let’s give more credit to those who are fundamentally sound behind the plate like Sherm Lollar.
Who’s one of the greatest defensive catchers of all time? Take off your mask Sherm Lollar – with a .992 fielding percentage, a ML record in his era. He also caught a ML record-tying six pop-ups in one game. Look at the statistics chart at the end of this article. It compares the 15 players in the Hall, plus the three “Negro League” inductees and potential inductees, with Lollar’s career. Only Elston Howard, also not in the Hall of Fame, has a higher FP at .993, but he did not play as many years or in as many games as Lollar. Jorge Pasada ties Lollar, but also played 4 fewer years and 270 less games. He is also not yet in the Hall of Fame. Granted, they were both better hitters, but my point is recognizing the ability to catch and throw out batters. After all, taking away runs from others is equally as important as scoring runs.
John Sherman Lollar had better stats all around than fellow White Sox Hall of Famer, Ray Schalk, with the sole exception of stolen bases. His timing was unfortunate, since he was overshadowed in his playing days by Yogi Berra in every category but On Base Percentage (OBP). Sherm did somehow manage to get on base despite being very slow afoot. Realistically, however, most Hall of Fame catchers are statistically inferior to Berra, especially in RBIs where he’s the leader of all Hall of Famers at that position. The six-foot-one-inch tall, 185-pound Lollar spent 12 years with the Chicago White Sox and was an excellent receiver who threw out base stealers with regularity (46.18%). He’s ranked seventh on the all-time best list in this category. Only three Hall of Famers were better, including soon to be inducted Ivan Rodriguez. Sherm was a seven-time American League All-Star (nine games), and was considered one of the best catchers and recognized as a team leader during the 1950s. In 1957, he received the first Rawlings Gold Glove Award for the catcher’s position in the major leagues, and went on to earn two more of these awards. His best offensive season was 1959, the year of the World Series runner-up “Go, Go Sox”, in which he hit 22 homers and had 84 RBIs.
Lollar began his career at the age of 18 in 1943, with the then minor league Baltimore Orioles. He was the league MVP in 1945, hitting .364 with 34 home runs. He was then sold to the Cleveland Indians where he made his major league debut on April 20, 1946, but asked to be sent back to the minors so he would have more playing time. On May 8, 1946, wearing uniform #12, he had the honor of catching a complete game victory for Hall of Famer Bob Feller and scored on a Feller sacrifice fly. After the 1946 season, he was traded to the Yankees and wore #26, competing with Yogi Berra for the starting job and ultimately helping the winning effort in the 1947 World Series, going 3 for 4 with two doubles. The Yankee coach, Hall of Fame catcher Bill Dickey, ultimately felt that Berra’s left-handed swing was more suitable for Yankee Stadium than the righty Lollar. Then, a serious hand injury sealed his fate, leading to a 1949 trade to the St Louis Browns. He joined the White Sox in November of 1951 and wore #45 for the first year before claiming #10, a number that I fondly adopted throughout my uneventful Little League and Media League softball years.
After his 18 years as a player that ended on September 7, 1963 with the Sox, his career went full circle, back to the Baltimore Orioles where it started, this time as Bullpen Coach from 1964 to 1968. In 1966, he was part of their World Series Championship season, earning his second ring. He subsequently coached for the Oakland Athletics in 1969 and managed their minor league affiliates, The Iowa Oaks and Tucson Toros in the Seventies.
John Sherman Lollar was born on August 23, 1924 in Durham, Arkansas and died in Springfield, Missouri on September 24, 1977 at 53 years of age. He’s buried in Rivermonte Memorial Gardens. One final baseball honor was bestowed on September 30, 2000 when he was selected to be a member of the Chicago White Sox All-Century Team. He is currently eligible to be identified as a Golden Era ballot candidate when the committee meets again in December 2020.
Sherm Lollar is admittedly my baseball hero. I was never a catcher, but I love the game of baseball and its history. I never had the pleasure to meet him, but when I saw him hit a home run in the 1959 World Series against the Dodgers, he had my attention. I was eight years old and his #10 became my lucky number for life. I have a growing collection of Sherm Lollar baseball cards, so he will always be in my Hall of Fame. He’s one of many players, including other catchers, that have not earned the respect of the Baseball Writer’s and/or Golden Era committee.
I strongly feel there should be more balance by position in the Hall of Fame. I also feel there should be greater emphasis on catching and throwing, when comparing those who excelled as catchers. Sherm Lollar was one of the best at both fielding and throwing runners out from behind the plate. Also, his lifetime .264 batting average exceeds both Ray Shalk and Gary Carter, plus an OPB that outperforms nearly half of Hall catcher inductees. Sherm Lollar is certainly one of several great catchers of all time that should be added to the list of those already enshrined. If not, I’ve made my point and exposed the man behind the mask -my baseball hero – #10.
| Name | Inducted | Years played | Games | Avg, | OBP | SLG | Hits | HR | RBI | RUNS | SB | FP | RANK/NOTES |
| Mike Piazza | 2016 | 17 | 1912 | .308 | .377 | .545 | 2127 | 427 | 1335 | 1048 | 17 | .989 | |
| Johnny Bench | 1989 | 17 | 2158 | ,267 | .345 | .476 | 2048 | 389 | 1376 | 1091 | 68 | .987 | |
| Yogi Berra | 1972 | 19 | 2120 | .285 | .350 | .482 | 2150 | 358 | 1430 | 1175 | 30 | .989 | |
| Roger Bresnahan | 1945 | 17 | 1446 | .279 | .386 | .377 | 1252 | 26 | 530 | 682 | 212 | .965 | |
| Roy Campanella | 1969 | 10 | 1215 | .276 | .362 | .500 | 1161 | 242 | 856 | 627 | 25 | .988 | |
| Gary Carter | 2003 | 19 | 2296 | .262 | .335 | .439 | 2092 | 324 | 1225 | 1025 | 39 | .991 | |
| Mickey Cochrane | 1947 | 13 | 1482 | .320 | .419 | .478 | 1652 | 119 | 832 | 1041 | 64 | .985 | |
| Bill Dickey | 1954 | 17 | 1789 | .313 | .382 | .486 | 1969 | 202 | 1209 | 930 | 36 | .988 | |
| Buck Ewing | 1939 | 18 | 1315 | .303 | .351 | .456 | 1625 | 71 | 883 | 1129 | 354 | .934 | |
| Rick Ferrell | 1984 | 18 | 1806 | .281 | .378 | .363 | 1692 | 28 | 734 | 687 | 29 | .984 | |
| Carlton Fisk | 2000 | 24 | 2499 | .269 | .343 | .457 | 2356 | 376 | 1330 | 1276 | 128 | .987 | |
| Gabby Hartnett | 1955 | 20 | 1990 | .297 | .370 | .489 | 1912 | 236 | 1179 | 867 | 28 | .984 | |
| Ernie Lombardi | 1986 | 17 | 1853 | .306 | .358 | .460 | 1792 | 190 | 990 | 601 | 8 | .979 | |
| Ray Schalk | 1955 | 18 | 1762 | .253 | .340 | .316 | 1345 | 11 | 594 | 579 | 177 | .981 | |
| Josh Gibson | 1972 | 17 | 107 | 351 | Stats not available | ||||||||
| Biz Mackey | 2003 | 25 | 40 | 297 | Stats not available | ||||||||
| Louis Santop | 2006 | 15 | Stats not available | ||||||||||
| Ivan Rodriguez | 2017 | 19 | 2267 | .301 | .339 | .475 | 2605 | 295 | 1217 | 1253 | 124 | .991 | |
| Jorge Posada | NO | 14 | 1482 | .277 | .380 | .477 | 1379 | 221 | 883 | 762 | 16 | .992 | |
| Elston Howard | NO | 15 | 1605 | .274 | .322 | .427 | 1471 | 167 | 762 | 619 | 9 | .993 | |
| Thurman Munson | NO | 11 | 1423 | .292 | .346 | .410 | 1558 | 113 | 701 | 696 | 48 | .982 | |
Sherm Lollar |
NO | 18 | 1752 | .264 | .357 | .402 | 1415 | 155 | 808 | 623 | 20 | .992 |
Bold type indicates #1 in category
Practicing for Retirement
Retirement is not something you can jump right into – it requires hours of practice. This is especially true if you don’t have hobbies, play a lot of golf, or have the big bucks for travel. In my situation, let’s also add a younger spouse that will probably continue to work for the next five or six years. Her travel time will be limited compared to mine. Plus, we enjoy traveling together, so compromises will need to be made.
How do I transition from the only thing I was ever good at – my professional career to a leisurely retirement?
Let’s start with a poem. It’s about the only hobby I currently have – writing humorous words of wisdom that rhyme.
Retirement coming,
Will the funds be there?
Or will we hear?
The cupboard is bare.
Something to look forward to,
Or something to dread?
Which will it be?
As I look ahead.
Is Social Security,
About to run out?
There certainly is,
A lot of doubt.
Invest and save,
For sixty-six years.
The market goes down,
And it all disappears.
The nest egg is broken,
Is the yoke on me?
The leaves have dried up.
On my money tree.
My Bucket list,
May have a hole.
Sunrise tomorrow,
Is my daily goal.
Those savvy investors,
Will travel at will.
But my only wish,
Is to never be ill.
Money in the bank,
Is one form of wealth.
But given a choice,
I’ll take good health.
Jobless hours,
To fill every day.
Volunteering to do,
Card games to play.
Sudoku, Crosswords,
Reading to do.
I might even try,
To learn something new.
It can’t be that hard,
To fill the time gap.
If you don’t have a hobby,
You just take a nap.
I’ll try retirement,
Until it’s all spent.
And then re-hirement,
May be the requirement.
Is it still retirement,
With part time work
When a former leader,
Is now just a clerk.
Where did the time go?
I’m sure I’ll say.
As exhaustion sets in,
At the end of each day.
Your daily to-dos,
Number only one.
And the day’s soon over,
But you’re only half done.
johnstonwrites.com
Copyright 2011
I’ve had too many friends die on the verge of retirement. Too many more are in such bad health that they have to retire, and others who will never “get” to retire. Retirement is supposedly a privilege, something that we’ve worked for all our lives, and a transition that definitely needs to be practiced. I suggest that a lot of this practice should take place between the ages of 65 and 66, in that difficult year between getting that full Senior Citizen discount and finally collecting Social Security payouts. Practice makes perfect…right? Since this poem was written over 5 years ago, you see where I’ve been practicing for some time. Like all great skills, retirement does take practice. Fortunately, I have a job where I can still work, gradually cutting back on hours, until I seamlessly move into retirement. If I want to play golf, read a book, see a movie, or write, I simply just don’t let the job get in the way. I just won’t make as much money – another adjustment that I’m going to have to make. At this point in my life, retirement is my priority and I’m going to find a way to enjoy it – dammit!
I’m practicing right now when I should be working. There is a certain sense of guilt that I feel, not putting 100% effort into my career as I’ve done my whole life. It might even have been 150%, as I hoped to achieve that next level of success. I had to be on time. I had to be on top. I had to win. Can I just give that up? No, it will take practice. I now have to somehow win at retirement. Maybe travel more than anyone else, read more than anyone else, or perhaps find the secret of life before anyone else does. It sounds exhausting!
It will require a lot of practice.
I’m additionally challenged with a younger spouse that will no doubt resent my retirement on certain days, wishing that she could be like me. I’ve tried to assemble a schedule of what a typical week of retirement would look like – so I can practice some of these.
I would start every day with a run, as I have for the last eight years. I’m a lifetime member of the United States Streak Running Association (USSRA). No, we don’t run naked through the streets. Their website is www.runeveryday.com. It’s comprised of other O.C.D individuals like myself who find a way to run a mile….every day…without fail. I feel better when I go to the website, knowing their are others who are way more obsessive about this than I am, and some of them are retired. One thing we all have in common is to find a way not be on their retired running streak list!
I would also continue to have dog duty every day – another common thread with my current work day. Perhaps, in retirement, I would take them on longer walks – so they are also concerned about my retirement, and will it interfere with their life of retirement?
I would write two mornings each week, along with laundry on Monday and vacuuming/dusting on Fridays. I guess I won’t be looking forward to Fridays any more, while Mondays will still be a drag. I’ve been practicing these skills for the last couple years but I’m still not even close to my wife’s expectations for these duties. It used to be I would just intentionally screw them up – feigning total incompetency – so that I wouldn’t have to do them. With her continued work schedule, I’m going to have to get really good at this. Plus, try to develop some kitchen skills that I’ve also avoided most of my life. I will need to learn to prepare at least one meal a week, even though she does enjoy doing the cooking. I’ll also try to do the dry cleaning, food shopping, and other errands that she has somehow managed to do all these years. I’m really not retiring after all, just starting my own maid service. Yes, retirement is going to take practice.
We’ve already downsized and moved into a condo, so I guess these were the first steps into retirement. Yard work will not be part of my retirement. I will go outside to run and take care of the dogs, and I might do some small hikes and some skiing. These physical activities, I have planned for Tuesdays.
We’ll continue to enjoy date nights on Wednesday where we try out new restaurants. The rules include dinner for just us two with no repeats. I might also add a date lunch on Fridays to enhance the attention I pay to my working wife (Sugar Mamma). Every retired person should have one of these luxuries, since pensions, social security, and IRAs only stretch so far.
I may do some volunteering, although this can be a lot like working. You have to show up at a certain time, cooperate with other people, and leave without an adequate paycheck. This may require a lot more practice than I think, but Thursday afternoons would fit in my retirement schedule. I’m also thinking about monitoring some classes at the local colleges. I like the idea of history classes and being around young people, yet I don’t want to be perceived as a “creepy old man” checking out the young chicks. Do we have to do homework? Who will I take to Homecoming?
Museums will also give me a chance to explore the past and put my life in perspective. I’ve done some practicing here and I find it difficult to really take my time. I seem to be in a hurry, unable to absorb the treasures around me. I just want to be done – more practice is in order. The same thing happens when I travel and even dine. It’s like I’m in some kind of a race to complete a scorecard of activities or just move on to the next item on life’s list. I will need to slow down, enjoy my meals, smell the roses, and be more attentive of the beauty that surrounds me. All I hear are car horns, hurried footsteps, and frantic voices. I’m worried that I will be unable to shift gears, change speeds, and savor life. How do you practice this?
Movies and books will be an important part of my retirement plan. In order to practice, I’ve made a list of the top 100 movies of all time, and have started the process of watching those I haven’t seen (or at least think I haven’t seen). I remember when video stores still existed and were a ritualistic Friday night stop. Too many times I would pick out a movie, start to watch it, and slowly begin to realize that I had already seen it. One of the “sad” benefits of growing older, is forgetting that you’ve already watched a particular movie and getting to watch it again. As a result, the flow of movies will never end throughout retirement. There are also many classic novels that I haven’t read, so this should be an added benefit of leisurely time – if I can practice sitting still long enough?
Critical refection on these movies and books will keep my mind active and engaged. A friend once told me to look for the 5 T’s when evaluating any story. Does it capture your attention with Tears, Tots, Terriers, Terror, and Tits? Does it make you cry, involve children and animals, scare you, or arouse you? Most of the great movies and books incorporate all five elements. I’ll keep these in mind as I continue to practice keeping me busy and you engaged in my writing.
Weekends and evenings with my wife should remain the same, unless I somehow project the perception that I’m a bum with no job and useless around the house. If this be the case, retirement won’t have changed me a bit and all of this practice will have gone for nothing.
Watching sports is the most critical component in my retirement plan – whether this is on TV or in person. Living on the West Coast, I get my games earlier, so it does not screw up my afternoons or evenings, and many times I can enjoy a game while having lunch. With the Cubs success, baseball has become my favorite sport, at least until college basketball starts. The difference is that baseball often leads to napping, particularly during innings two through six. I’ve been practicing watching sports all my life, utilizing radio, mobile score updates, multiple TV screens, streaming, and fantasy games to excessively multi-task. Baseball, in particular, brings back many childhood memories, and the enjoyment of collecting cards and stale bubble gum.
Every kid has a favorite player, typically someone who has achieved greatness in his or her sport. Unfortunately, mine appears to be Hall of Fame caliber through my eyes only. I will write more about #10 Sherm Lollar, Chicago White Sox catcher, in a separate post that I will call the “Case For Sherm.” Somehow Sherm had a powerful influence on my mediocre sports career – maybe I should have gone with Mickey Mantle like everyone else? Mickey seems to be the centerpiece of every baseball card collection. I recently started a Sherm Lollar baseball card collection, just to be different. I figured it would cost a lot less money, as an effort to practice the art of card collecting that I started as a youth.
I seem to be more of a completest than a collector, as I continue to practice patience, an important ingredient in the successful retirement formula. My mother and grandfather left me a stamp collection, and my childhood neighbor got me into coin collecting and baseball cards. So, the idea of getting back into collecting is deeply rooted in those enjoyable childhood years, long before working and retirement ever entered my mind. It would be great to get back there, collecting Coca-Cola bottle caps from around the world, sea shells, butterflies to be mounted, leaves to be identified. The only problem is that, as a child, I was never good at practicing anything. As a result, I wasted some potential skills that I could have used in retirement like learning to play the piano or saxophone. Both of which I refused to practice and therefore never learned to play. See what happens when you don’t practice?
I could have completed my penny collection or my baseball card collection if I had just stuck with it. Family, career, and other priorities got in my way. Is there still a chance to go back in time and finish what I started? That may be just what retirement is for – trying to be a kid again, although with less energy and more patience. I’m ready to give it a try.
Practice To be continued……