The baseball glove that I used in Little League was factory autographed by Jim Rivera of the Chicago White Sox. He passed away yesterday at age 96, the same age as my mother-in-law, who we just visited, and both of my deceased parents. They all lived in my home state of Indiana, within about a 50 mile triangle, so this partially explains why I was a nearby Chicago sports fan growing up. “Jungle Jim” was an outfielder on the 1959 “Go-Go Sox” team that lost in the World Series to the evil Los Angeles Dodgers. His teammates included Luis Aparicio, Nellie Fox, Early Wynn, Ted Kluszewski, Jim Landis, Gary Peters, Billy Pierce, and Sherm Lollar – the heroes of my youth. (See Posts #118 and #257)

Rivera led the AL in triples with 16 in 1953 and stolen bases in 1955 with 25, both good indications of his speed and base running skills.The nickname “Jungle Jim” was given to him by a Chicago sportswriter due to his unorthodox playing style. However, he much preferred the moniker “Big Jim,” even though his given name was Manual Joseph Rivera. He was 38 when Bill Veeck’s White Sox finally won the Pennant, and sadly went 0-for-the-World-Series on legs that allowed him to play the sport at 40 years old. He didn’t make his MLB debut with the St. Louis Browns until he was 30, due in part to World War II, a boxing career, and 5 years in the Atlanta Federal Penitentiary on an attempted rape charge.  In the off season of 1950, he played in the Puerto Rican Winter League, impressing opposing manager Rogers Hornsby who brought him to Seattle in 1951 and then to the Browns, where he started his pro career.

I saw him make several game saving plays in Right Field, a position that I often played, and enjoyed imitating his head-first slides into the bases. He finished his career with the Kansas City Athletics in 1962, but his mitt model that I used bearing his autograph stamp was a fielding essential for me for many years after.  I also had a Jim Landis mitt, as if I could put one on each hand.

Rivera was just a step behind my favorite hero, Sherm Lollar, who inspired me to wear #10. (See Post #5). I was never a Catcher because of my relatively weak arm usually relegated me to positions like Right Fielder or Second Baseman. I did some slow pitch softball hurling as I got older, as all these positions were simply a compromise for my ability to get on base. As a result, to have owned a catcher’s mitt like Sherm’s was never practical, but certainly now worth consideration in my growing museum collection.