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216 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published August 24, 1982
Rufus (Big Train) Johnson was one of three blacks on the team. He was on first base one night during a power failure - we had them regularly - when the lights came back on Rufus was standing on third, as if nothing happened.When he got to Milwaukee, as a rookie “I woke up to a new world every day, thrilled to be in the big leagues, grateful to be around people I had heard and read about for years. He didn’t play much early on and one time was catching for a veteran:
One day I went out to the mound to talk to Lew Burdette, after a couple of runners had reached base. When I got there, he said, “What the hell do you want?”Priceless! And there is also wisdom for the ages in here:
I said, “Nothing. I just came out to give you a break.”
Lew said, “Don’t be coming out here. I don’t want you out here. They” - and he waved his glove hand at the crowd - “think you’re giving me advice. And the only thing you know about pitching is that you can’t hit it.”
My reaction was to go back behind the plate and tell the hitter what pitches were coming.
It is dangerous for an athlete to believe his own publicity, good or bad. {and then he slides in that humor} I never believed mine, partly because I never read any until after I retired.On Harry Caray’s postgame radio show, talking about whether bases were hits or due to errors, and how some players would reach down and pick up a handful of dirt and when nobody was looking, glance at the scoreboard. Harry asked what he did when it was a close call:
I said, “I reach down and pick up an handful of dirt and when nobody is looking, I glance up at the scoreboard.”Literal laugh out loud. When he got traded to the Phillies, he said he “was going to Philadelphia, a town where, on Easter, they boo the little kids who don’t find eggs.” (Nothing has changed with that city!)
“I guess you like them to call it a hit.”
“Well, I always like to count ‘me as a hit myself,” I replied. “I count everything - hits, walks, fielder’s choices, everything. If I hit a ball good, I count it.”
Harry asked, “Well, by your own system, what are you hitting right now?”
“Six-forty-three,” I replied.
I heard Dave Parker, of the Pirates, tell an interviewer: “This game is harder than people think. Some days, we’re out at the ball park right or nine hours.” An image of a pipe fitter smashing his beer can through his TV screen came to mind.[me] Baseball players have it easier than every other major sport except golfers.