(Editor’s Note: This story, written by the amazing Greg Prince (Faith And Fear in Flushing) was originally published in the third issue of the print run of Gotham Baseball, which is now part of the national archive at the A. Bartlett Giamatti Research Center at the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum . Mr. Prince graciously allowed us to re-publish the story for the digital re-launch of Gotham Baseball back in April of 2011.- MH)

Think of the 1954 Giants as The Boys of The Summer Before.

Perhaps the date is the first clue. The World Series could hardly have started any sooner, and given the course of events that quickly unfolded, there was no way it was going to end any later. In its time, that was a good thing.

But a half-century and change down the road, you have to wonder: What was the rush?

Leo Durocher’s New York Giants swept Al Lopez’s Cleveland Indians four straight to capture the 1954 World Series, a quartet of contests that commenced the afternoon of September 29 and wound up well ahead of supper October 2. In terms of the calendar, no Fall Classic has ended so soon since. October, which nowadays hosts three tiers and typically three weeks of playoffs, wasn’t even 40 hours old when the Giants became champions of the world.

Maybe if it could have been imagined that they’d never win another one — that in fact the New York Giants would cease to exist within three years of the final Indian out — the Jints would have strung the Tribe along a little longer. Maybe, but not likely. When you are an underdog of historic proportions taking out the legs of an overwhelming favorite, you don’t stop and think about posterity’s ramifications.

Still, maybe there was a harbinger hidden in the four-game sweep. In 1954, the Giants took care of business in short order as if they couldn’t wait to leave the stage. One year later, the Brooklyn Dodgers, having waited their fair share of Next Years, jumped into the spotlight, prevailing in their perennial struggle for a championship across seven games. Yes, the Bums left Brooklyn, but the ’55 Dodgers have never exited the popular consciousness.

One year, one borough apart, but the respective legacies left behind by what transpired in Manhattan in 1954 and Brooklyn in 1955 seem leagues apart. The Dodgers are perpetually romanticized. The Giants are mostly gone. Despite receiving a New York City ticker-tape parade (something the Yankees during their run of five straight championships between 1949 and 1953 never got), it feels as if history’s parade has passed the 1954 Giants by.

How come?

Well, for one, the Dodgers of the 1950s instantly became the Good Old Days to a lot of people who made like O’Malley and left Brooklyn themselves. By then, the Giants’ prime was already past; really, they represented the Good Old Days long before 1950 rolled around. Also, Brooklyn would be mourned post-1957 as no longer big-league. Take away a team, take away an identity. New York, on the other hand, was and is New York. The Giants, in a sense, got replaced. But, the thinking went, there could never be substitute for Dem Bums.

If that’s indeed what’s happened, it doesn’t make it right. Manhattan’s last champions need to be held in higher regard.

Team ’54, where are you?

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The case for Gil Hodges in the Hall of Fame is both statistical and emotional. It also points out all of the inconsistencies that go into the flawed process of choosing Hall of Famers.

Considered by many to be the finest fielding right-handed first baseman in the history of baseball, and certainly among the top five of all-time, Gil Hodges is currently the best player eligible for the Hall of Fame who is not in.  There are at least 10 players less deserving of enshrinement gracingCooperstown’s hallowed Hall.

The question is when will the veterans’ committee, made up solely of members of the Hall of Fame correct this mistake.

After his first year on the ballot (at one point writers kept deserving players off their ballots in the players first year of eligibility, reserving first year votes for only the best of the best) no player who ever finished ahead of Hodges in the balloting has not been elected to the Hall of Fame.  Of those who finished ahead of him in his initial year on the ballot, only Marty Marion, Allie Reynolds, Joe Gordon and Johnny Vandermeer were not ultimately enshrined.  Both Marion and Gordon are considered by many to be deserving players who have been slighted.  (Editor’s Note:  Since this was first published, Gordon was chosen to the Hall of Fame, in 2009).

The list of players Hodges finished ahead of in the voting, and the number of times that he did it – is impressive.

What is interesting is the comparison with former Brooklyn and (Los Angeles) teammate Duke Snider.  Coming onto the ballot one year later, it took Snider seven years to get to a level of support that Hodges had on every ballot after his first, and eight tries to pass Hodges in the balloting, finally accomplishing it in 1978.

The Fall 2010 Issue of Gotham Baseball is available FREE for download to your computer or mobile device.

If this was a comparison of peers, similar to the Peyton Manning versus Tom Brady arguments that dominated talk-radio in November, Hodges would have a clear advantage, having beaten Snider the first seven times they went against each other.

In 1980, Snider was elected to the Hall of Famer in his 10th year on the ballot.  Obviously, many writers took their time determining that the Duke of Flatbush was a Hall-of-Famer.  Makes you wonder what made them change their mind.  A comparison of the two teammates shows some interesting things. Snider was a eight-time all-star, who drove in over 100 runs six times, and hit 40+ home runs four straight years.

Hodges, was also an eight time all-star, and drove in 100 runs seven straight seasons.  Hodges had three gold gloves, Snider none, but was in competition with Willie Mays and Richie Ashburn, so the comparison may be a bit unfair.

Snider seemed to burn brighter, Hodges more consistently.  So what happened? Numerous things could have hurt Hodges candidacy.  His untimely death in 1972 removed him from the public eye, and after initial spike in the voting, Hodges did not pick up much more additional support.

Additionally, few have argued how Hodges stacked up with Whitey Lockman, Joe Collins, Moose Skowron, Bill White and Orlando Cepeda at first base.  Hodges was clearly the best.  But the Reese vs Rizzuto (both in) and Willie, Mickey and The Duke (all three in) were emotional debates that continued into the seventies and beyond, keeping all in the front of voters minds.  Everyone knows Terry Cashman’s song.  Only Mays and Mantle were unquestionably better than Hodges.

The bitterness over George Steinbrenner and the Yankees heavy-handed tactics in getting Phil Rizzuto in may have also backfired against Hodges, particularly with non-NewYork based voters.  A backlash against a perception of too many Dodgers, Yankees and Giants in the Hall could have also contributed.

The Gold Glove award was not awarded until 1957, and Hodges won the first three. But his career was winding down by that point.  Who knows how many he would have won earlier in his career. Snider, with Mays and Ashburn as contemporaries, was unlikely to ever win a Gold Glove for centerfield play.

Lastly, the turmoil that was Shea Stadium from the death of Joan Payson until 1982, certainly had to hurt Hodges. The Dodgers have been criticized by many for abandoning theirBrooklynstars during that era, concentrating on those who went west.  The Mets, for whom Hodges also had his number retired after winning the 1969 World Series, were expected to carry the ball on his candidacy.  Like most other things in that era, they dropped it.

Richie Ashburn and Red Schoendienst both had tremendous support of their teams leading the push to get them through the veterans committee, which led up to their elections. The Wilpons, devotees of everythingBrooklyn, have not made this more of an issue since taking ownership of the team.

Realistically, Hodges is on the border statistically as an offensive player.  Injuries limited the end of his career, keeping him at 370 home runs, short of the 400 that was a magic number of sorts for players of his era.  Playing in a stadium that favored left-handed hitters for most of his career, his reputation as a clutch hitter was deserved.

While his post-season history has on it one of the worst post-seasons ever (an 0-21 in 1952) he bounced back to post solid numbers in 1953, 1955, 1956 and 1959, raising his career post-season average to .267.

Few in baseball were ever held in as high esteem as a person as Hodges, both as a player and a manager. Brooklynfans flocked to their churches to pray for him during his slump in the 1952 Series, which inspired the title of a best selling book, Praying For Gil Hodges.

As a manager, he took over a franchise that epitomized ineptitude, and won a pennant in his second year, was over .500 three of his four years as manager, and finished with a .530 winning percentage as Mets manager overall.  He inspired such respect that Hall of Fame pitcher Tom Seaver still refers to him as Mr. Hodges when speaking of the ’69 Mets.

The reality is, baseball needs to induct Hodges as soon as possible.  While his 370 home runs are no longer eye-popping in comparison to the numbers of Rafael Palmiero and Mark McGuire, the contrasts between those modern sluggers and Hodges could not be greater.  No suggestion of steroids, amphetamines, corked bats, or cheating of any kind where Hodges was concerned.

If Joe Morgan is truly as outraged by the modern player and the influences of performance enhancing substances, then he should join Seaver in championing Hodges inclusion.  The Hall could use a man whose numbers are untainted by suspicion, whose character is unquestioned.

Offensively, Hodges numbers are on par with Snider, Cepeda and a more modern contemporary, Tony Perez.  Defensively, Hodges is to first base what Ozzie Smith is to shortstop, Bill Mazeroski to second base, Brooks Robinson to third – all Hall of Famers, while a far superior offensive player.

So why is he missing from the Hall?

(Editor’s Note) I have had the pleasure to work with the great Cecilia M. Tan on many occasions, first as an editor with Gotham Baseball from the birth of the magazine’s print and online days, then as a writer for the Yankee Annual, which Cecilia puts together each year for the Maple Street Press. She’s an incredible writer, and author, and her story below, originally published in the Fall 2006 print editon, is one of the reasons why Gotham Baseball is in Cooperstown. – MH

I went to Cooperstown for the Hall of Fame Induction Weekend this year, which is a pilgrimage every baseball-loving fanatic should make at least once. While patrolling the main street of shops, I happened into a used bookstore. There a tiny, red-bound volume caught my eye.

The book, entitled “The Powder of Sympathy,” is from 1927, published by Doubleday, Page & Co., and appears to be a collection of essays by one Christopher Morley. Morley was something of a literary fixture in New York City during his lifetime. He was a founder of the Baker Street Irregulars, took on the revision of Bartlett’s Familiar Quotations, and was chums with Don Marquis of “Archy and Mehitabel” fame.

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(Editor’s Note) To prepare for the upcoming release of the Summer 2011 issue of Gotham Baseball, here’s an article for our awesome online audience to enjoy. Of course, a free download of the entire first issue of Gotham Baseball is available here. MH

“Sal Maglie will never be elected to the Hall of Fame, unless there’s a Hall of Fame just for pitchers whom you wanted to have the ball in a game you had to win.” – Bill Madden, NY Daily News

For the first four years of his professional career, Sal Maglie wasn’t much of a presence, a prospect or a pitcher.  The Cleveland Indians signed him at age 21 in 1938, shuffled him off to the Tigers in 1940, who sent him all the way down to Single-A Elmira.  Given a chance to pitch on a regular basis for the first time in his career in 1941, he responded with a record of 20-15 with a 2.67 ERA over 270 innings.  His reward? He was left unprotected by the Tigers, who lost him to New York Giants via the Rule V draft.

At 25 years of age, Maglie, who had grown frustrated with professional baseball’s lack of commitment to him as a starter, nonetheless had a solid year for the Double-A Jersey City Giants, going 9-6 with a 2.78 ERA in 50 games, only seven of which came is a starting role.  One could say he only had himself to blame, as his inability to muster a respectable K/BB ratio (a dreadful .044 in his minor league career up until that point) was his main culprit,

Furious with baseball, perhaps more furious with himself, Maglie would quit pro baseball,  returning to his native Niagara Falls to work at a defense plant, as it paid better than minor league baseball.  That feeling would last two years.

Feeling that he still had something to prove, Maglie contacted the Giants, and they assigned him to Jersey City again. He responded with a 3-7 record with a 4.07 ERA, very below-average numbers for a 28-year old reliever trying to make it back into baseball.  But because of the manpower shortage caused by ballplayers being drafted, fighting and many still overseas in World War II, the big club needed bodies. Maglie finally get his shot at the bigs. In 13 games, 10 of which were starts, Maglie posted a 5-4 record with a 2.35 ERA and a miniscule 1.15 WHIP. His K/BB ratio was still below average, but it was better, and he also tossed three shutouts in the mix.  It was a promising start, partly because it was Maglie’s first brush with the man who would change his life, Giants pitching coach Dolf Luque.  It was Luque who would drill aggressiveness and intimidation into Maglie’s game, and according to Judith Testa, author of Sal Maglie: The Demon Barber, would “transform him from a marginal wartime hurler into one of the top pitchers of his time.”

To listen to an interview with Judith Testa about her Sal Maglie biography, click here

Sal Maglie as a Dodger, illustration by John Pennisi

It would take a long five years before anyone would notice, because Maglie would make the incredibly costly choice of joining the outlaw Mexican League.  He would finally learn how to become a dominant big league pitcher, but he would have to wait a long time before he could prove it.

His old pitching coach Luque would serve as his manager in Mexico for two years, but even the expert tutelage of his mentor could not make the awful conditions in Mexico bearable.  For the next three years, Maglie would alternate a whole variety of realities; he would spend a few months barnstorming with a bunch of ex-big leaguers,  move back home and buy a gas station, and then finally pitch again, this time in Canada.

The last time Maglie wore a Giant uniform, former Polo Grounds legend Mel Ott was the skipper.  A far better player than manager, the man who hit 511 career homers was also known as “the nice guy who would finish last”. The fellow who pegged him with that moniker was his eventual successor, Leo Durocher.  It was Durocher who would be Maglie’s manager when the right-hander, now a grizzled 33 years old, rejoined the team after Commissioner Happy Chandler lifted the ban against those big leaguers who had jumped to the Mexican League.

However like Ott, Durocher mostly ignored Maglie the first couple of months or so he was with the club.  Then he took the mound against the Cardinals on July 21, tossed an  11-inning complete game, and for three of the next four seasons, he would become one of the more dominant – and most feared — pitchers in all of baseball.

The guy who pumped gas in Niagara Falls was now instilling fear in the hearts of his opponents – and their fans. Acclaimed writer Robert Creamer, who chronicled Maglie in Sports Illustarted in 1951, put it best:

“(Maglie) hovers over the Borough of Brooklyn like the angel of darkness. Small children are cowed into obedience by the mention of its name, strong men pale and women weep.

“The Barber?” the Brooklyn Dodger fan asks fearfully, looking over his shoulder. “Is he pitching tonight? We never beat him. Never.”

This is legend, of course. Salvatore Anthony Maglie of the New York Giants (for indeed it is he) never scared a child to sleep, never made a woman weep and never beat the Dodgers every time he faced them, although his margin of superiority—23 victories over Brooklyn to only 10 defeats—is remarkable. But his undeniable effectiveness, his grim shadowy appearance, his obvious relish of the challenging job facing him each time he pitches against Brooklyn, have given him an aura of invincibility and made him a major character—hero and villain both—in the tremendously dramatic pageant of Dodger-Giant baseball.

He would finish the 1950 season 18-4, putting together a string of 45 consecutive scoreless innings along the way.

One of the young boys who Maglie did not frighten was named Ron Healey, who shared this story:

In the summer of 1951, I was walking along Bedford Avenue in back of Ebbets Field, home of the Brooklyn Dodgers. Behind the right field fence. I noticed a window open which normally, was always closed. Little did I know, it led to the bathroom of the visiting team. That night, the Dodgers were playing the hated New York Giants. Looking out the bathroom window was Sal “the Barber” Maglie and third baseman Hank Thomson. When I first looked at Sal, I said, “Hi Sal” he said “Hi Kid”. I then said, “Hey Sal, would you sign an autograph for me?” He replied, “Sure”. I realized then that there was a cross-cross, heavy duty iron screen over the window. All I had with me was my small, spiral notebook I used for homework and a short pencil. I asked Sal, “How can I give you this notebook?” He replied, “Just pull a sheet of paper out, take the pencil, roll the pencil inside the paper, and pass it through the screen”. So, I tore out a piece of paper, rolled the pencil inside the paper, and passed it through the screen. Sal and Hank both signed it for me and passed it back. From that day forward, even though I was a big  Dodgers fan, I always liked Sal Maglie as a person. While I was in the US Navy in 1956, Maglie was traded to the Dodgers and pitched a no hitter. I was very happy for him.

Maglie would help the Giants complete their miracle run against the Brooks in 1951, leading the league with 23 wins, and would win 18 more games in 1952. A bad back in 1953 would limit his effectiveness, and his age (36) made doubters of even his most ardent supporters that he could bounce back in 1954.

He proved the naysayers wrong by posting a solid season (14-6, 3.26 ERA) in 1954, helping the Giants win their last ever World Series in New York.

The next season would be his last at the Polo Grounds, as despite a 9-5 record by the end of July, he was sent to the Cleveland Indians, but it would not be his last season in New York.  Maglie would pitch until he was 41, ending his career with stints in the Bronx with the Yankees, and with the St. Louis Cardinals before retiring in 1958.  Ironically, the “Demon Barber” would enjoy his last hurrah with the hated Brooklyn Dodgers, of all teams.

While still with Cleveland, Maglie had pitched well in an exhibition game in Jersey City (Dodgers owner Walter O’Malley had scheduled a number of games in Jersey City in 1956 in an attempt to jostle NYC lawmakers to build him a stadium in Brooklyn), and then-GM Buzzy Bavasi thought Maglie might be able to help the Dodgers.  Brooklyn had some injuries to its pitching staff in 1956, and manager Walter Alston didn’t trust a young left-hander named Sanford Koufax just yet, so for the bargain price of 100 dollars, the Barber became a Brook.

On his way to a 13-5 record, he would toss a no-hitter; win the game that clinched a tie for the pennant and in the World Series against the Yankees, would earn his only World Series victory (a 6-3 win in Game 1).  In Game 5, he would be on the losing end of the Don Larsen perfect game, and once again, it was wait until next year for the Flatbush faithful.

In later years, he would receive more attention, albeit negative, in ex-Yankee Jim Bouton’s book “Ball Four”. Maglie, then serving as Bouton’s pitching coach for the expansion Seattle Pilots, would be portrayed as a closed-minded, uncommunicative, and less-than-enthusiastic about Bouton’s new knuckleball,. type of person.  It should be noted that the one year that the Pilots would exist (they would move to Milwaukee to become the Brewers the following year) it was a miserable experience for all involved.  Besides, in 1967, as pitching coach for the 1967 “Impossible Dream” Red Sox, both Jim Lonborg and Dick Radatz would give a great amount of credit to Maglie being one of the best pitching coaches in the game .

Today, the best of baseball fans, the ones from New York City, the “baseball city” as former Mets GM Omar Minaya once called it, will remember Maglie as one of the Knights of New York Baseball during the golden age of the sport in Gotham.

An era in which Sal Maglie would never back down, never give an inch, and own the inside part of the plate.

For much of the last few years, Mets fans have been asking for someone to stand up in the New York Mets’ clubhouse, take charge, and lead the team. Some might argue that Carlos Delgado was that leader, but more would say he was a failed and divisive one. Impact bat? Hell yes. But a leader? Leaders don’t manipulate the clubhouse, play politics behind the managers back, and encourage other players to do the same.

As one very amiable sportswriter who coevered the 2005-2008 Mets told me recently, “Based on what I heard about Carlos Delgado, I thought I was going to love the guy. He was progressive (referring to Delgado’s activism), was interested in politics and had the reputation of being a real stand-up guy. He was easily the biggest (bleeping) asshole I’ve ever met in baseball.”

Many would say, and I would agree with them, that one of the biggest differences between the 2006 Mets team that dominated the NL East until falling to the Cardinals in Game 7 of the NLCS was the absence of Cliff Floyd. Though no longer a full-time player, he was a valuable bench player for the Chicago Cubs in 2007. And in 2008, a lot of folks cited his leadership skills as of of several factors in the Rays getting to the World Series.

I interviewed Cliff Floyd more than a few times during his career, and the following is an excerpt from a article I posted on the old Gotham Baseball on February 26, 2006 (thanks to WayBackMachine.com for the link)

***

“This is New York, man. If you try to figure it out (alone), you will get in trouble.” – Cliff Floyd

In the past few days, the word out of spring training at Port St. Lucie is that Mets’ outfielder Cliff Floyd has had a very positive influence on David Wright’s young career, serving as a mentor of sorts to the third baseman. I chuckled quietly to myself when I heard someone say “so he makes [Wright] carry his bags, and that’s serving as his mentor? [Bleep].”

Fact of the matter is, it’s not the first time Floyd has played mentor it in his career, definitely not the first time he’s done it as a Met, and not even the first time he’s done it for the left side of the infield.

It was only a year ago around this time when the questions surrounding Jose Reyes were about his ability to stay on the field, not his on-base percentage. Injuries had taken most of his first two years with the Mets, and Reyes fielded questions all last spring about his hamstrings, not his walk total.

Floyd wasn’t worried about his young teammate.

“As long as he’s in the lineup,” added left-fielder Floyd said, “good things will happen.”

Though the team’s veteran players had all been effusive in their praise for Reyes, it was Floyd really understood what Reyes was going through.

In 1993, while in the Expos’ system, Floyd was picked by Baseball America as the No. 3 prospect in all of baseball. The ranking got him the cover of the publication, and created a high level of expectation for the young first baseman. Tagged with star potential from the day he joined the Montreal organization, Floyd’s early career was staled by a seemingly endless series of physical challenges, not only hampering his output, but threatening the career of the kid with the “Can’t Miss” label.

Sound familiar?

A wrist injury in 1995 that left him with six of the hand’s eight bones either broken or dislocated, nearly ended what was a potentially star-filled career after a collision at first base with then-Met Todd Hundley. Floyd said the injury may have caused doubts in others, but it allowed him to attack his rehab in a ferocious manner.

“I learned a lot about myself then,” Floyd said. “[Reyes] just needs to separate himself from the perception, and concentrate on his game. This is New York, man. If you try to figure it out [alone], you will get in trouble.”

Exactly 10 years later, the 2003 Top 25 prospect rankings by BA Listed Reyes as the No. 3 top minor league prospect, a fact not lost on the now-veteran Mets outfielder.

“It can be difficult [to have all of that expectation],” said Floyd. “He’s got a lot of talent, but you have to learn how to know your limits. We need him to be in the lineup every day.”"I think he’s handled everything really well, the way he’s battled back [after all the setbacks].”

For Reyes, having an accomplished All-Star caliber player like Floyd encourage him and assist him in his transition back into the Mets clubhouse was priceless.

“He has been so great.” said a beaming Reyes. “He’s been talking to me so much about how to take care of myself properly and how to keep the energy in my legs.”

“He says to take it day by day, and when I feel better, everything will be OK.”

With strained eyelids and back spasms from sneezing causing today’s major leaguers to miss time on the field, Pete Reiser must be rolling in his grave. “Pistol Pete” may not be one of the common Brooklyn Dodger greats remembered today, along with Jackie Robinson or Duke Snider, but he a main cog in building the foundation of early success for the Dodgers.

According to famed manager Leo Durocher, who coached baseball legends like Babe Ruth and Willie Mays, Pete Reiser, “just might have been the best ballplayer I ever saw.” Blessed with blazing speed and gap power, added by playing at Ebbets Field, the Dodger outfielder took the majors by storm as a 22 year old rookie in 1941. After leading the league in runs, batting average, and total bases (along with doubles and triples), Reiser helped propel Brooklyn to the pennant with a 100-54 record. Along with his explosive offensive game, the Dodger centerfielder ranked first in range factor (RF/g) and third in assists manning the game’s premier position. Although Brooklyn would lose in the World Series, they fell to a superior Yankee team, who had three players in the top 7 of the MVP voting including Joe Dimaggio.

In 1942, Pete Reiser’s major league career can be found in a nutshell. Heading into a July 2nd game against the St. Louis Cardinals, he was leading in National League in hitting at a scorching .383 pace. Then, in what would be a reoccurring theme in his time as a player, Reiser smashed into the centerfield wall in St. Louis after trying to track down an Enos Slaughter drive. After suffering a sever concussion along with a shoulder separation, Reiser would be limited the rest of the year as the Dodgers would finish second, albeit with 104 wins, to those same Cardinals for the NL pennant. Even with almost half of his season robbed of injury, the centerfielder still led the National League with 20 stolen bases and finished 6th on the MVP ballot.

In the prime of his career at age 24, Pete Reiser, like many other baseball greats, had to dedicate their life to the military because of World War II. He missed three years due to service and came back hindered again by an injury suffered overseas.

Even after his return from the military in 1946, Reiser set a National League record with seven steals of home, and it could’ve been an eighth except for a blown call. Although he had to bat left-handed most of the time due to injury, curbing his natural switch-hitting ability, Pete ranked in the top 10 in slugging percentage, led the league with a career high 34 stolen bases, and had the best Power/Speed numbers in the majors. Even after toiling out of baseball for three years, the former Dodger great not only contributed, but was voted again in the top 10 of the NL MVP and was arguably the best player on that team along with Dixie Walker.

With his career declining because of his reckless play, which included being carried off the field eleven times, Reiser hung around the majors for another five years for the Boston Braves, Pittsburgh Pirates, and Cleveland Indians never appearing in more than 260 ABs in a season. In 1952, he hung up his cleats because of a bout with dizziness.

The impact of Pete’s career can still be felt today, as his play helped Major League Baseball develop the use of padded outfield walls and warning tracks in the outfield. Although it may not have saved his career, the safety regulations surely helped the careers of outfield patrollers like Willie Mays and Duke Snider.

Speaking of “The Duke,” who was Pete Reiser’s heir to centerfield? None other than Hall of Famer Duke Snider. After the 1947 season, Duke was called up to play center and played in 53 games in ’48, before taking over the position for good in 1949.

One of the biggest what-ifs in Brooklyn Dodger history centers around these two players. Had Reiser not fell to injury and came back strong from his military service, would the Dodgers have had a need to bring up the 21-year old prospect they had in Snider. By 1949, if Snider still had been called up, the Dodger outfield would have been Duke, Carl Furilo, and a 30 year old Reiser. With one of the missing pieces of the Brooklyn dynasty a third outfielder, the former Dodger great would have rounded out that team as well as providing another speed option behind Jackie Robinson. Reiser’s presence could have pushed that Dodger team over the hump much earlier and added a stable veteran presence in that clubhouse.

Dubbed the greatest talent ever to come out of Brooklyn, “Pistol Pete” remains a cautionary tale of the difficult conditions that ballplayers of the 1940s and ’50s had to deal with. Whether it was military service or injury, baseball lost valuable years of many superstars careers. Often compared favorably to the “Say Hey Kid,” Reiser had the respect of his peers and coaches as a once and a generation talent.

(Editor’s Note- This story was originally published in the Summer 2008 issue of Gotham Baseball Magazine – MH)

Living in New York City offers me the opportunity to continually reminisce about the 1969 World Champion New York Mets.  There isn’t a day that goes by that someone doesn’t want to talk to me about that team.  Over the years I have come to understand the significance of the “miracle” that took place in 1969.  Reliving my days with that wonderful team reminds me just how special that time was.  With that in mind, there is no way to describe the feelings I have when I receive the dreaded telephone call telling me another one of my teammates from 1969 has passed away.  Now, I’ve gotten seven of those calls, the latest being Don Cardwell.

All of us receive sad news from time to time and each of us deals with loss in our own way.   For me, having another teammate pass away is agonizing to say the least, as I feel my own mortality and the loss of someone special. But that is life and no one escapes this reality.  These calls bearing the sad news tear at my soul and leave me not only at a loss for words, but feeling that another part of my youth has gone.

The first of these telephone calls came in the spring of 1972.   It was from a sportswriter and like any other call I assumed it was for an interview.  I had been traded to the St. Louis Cardinals over the winter.  I was with a new team and new teammates, but my heart was still with the Mets.  When the first thing that came out of this reporter’s mouth was that Gil Hodges had collapsed and died I couldn’t have been more shocked.  Although, I knew that Gil had heart problems, he was still relatively young and I thought he was taking better care of himself.  But, it was hard to believe that Gil had just died.  After all, it had only been a couple of years since Gil led us all to the World Championship in 1969. This couldn’t have happened to our leader, the rock of that championship team and the person who guided us to that remarkable victory.  But it did, and that was my very first telephone call of that nature.

There have been six calls since.  First Gil, then Rube Walker, then Cal Koonce, then Tommie Agee, then Tug McGraw, then Donn Clendenon, and the latest, Don Cardwell   who passed away recently in North Carolina after a long illness.

While it is true that death is in fact part of life I am still torn with the knowledge that one more special person in my life is gone.  It takes from me someone who shared one of the most incredible sports stories in the history of our country.  The 1969 Mets aren’t just another team who won a World Series.  I always tell people that maybe the ’69 Mets weren’t the greatest team to win a World Championship, but they certainly are the most memorable.  No team, unless perhaps the 1927 Yankees, have been idolized more or talked about over the years.  To write about all the things that have taken place to individual players and the team collectively since October 16th, 1969 would take pages and pages.  As an example, do you think I would have a dog named after me on the popular sitcom Everybody Loves Raymond and would have appeared on the show if I wouldn’t have been part of that World Championship team?   How many other teams will celebrate a 40th Anniversary and fans remember every player on that team?  Very few I would suspect.  Yes, 2009 will be the 40th Anniversary and I will venture to say that 40 years from then fans will still be talking about and remembering the 1969 Mets.  The legacy of that team will live on forever, passed on from generation to generation.

There is one very important thing to remember about the 1969 Mets.  While we had a number of star players, it truly was a team where everyone contributed to our success.   When you talk about the team, the conversation isn’t just about Seaver, Koosman or Jones.  It’s about Agee, Boswell, Kranepool, Weis, Grote, Charles, Swoboda, Clendenon and all the others who were so important in that championship season.  The one true thing about the team is that all the names will be etched in people’s memories forever.  That memory of everyone is the true legacy of the 1969 Miracle Mets.

We weren’t just teammates.  When we won the World Series in 1969, we collectively became something different.  Besides the team itself being very special all of the players, coaches and manager became bonded in a way that is hard to describe.   Teammates will always be teammates but when you win a championship like we did, in the way we did, at the time we did, in a city, country and a world in chaos and despair, there is a bond, a special camaraderie that goes beyond words.  To this day most of us keep in touch.  Whether some of us are at an appearance together or a conversation on the telephone, we stay connected and continue to be in touch.  Just the other day I spoke to Ken Boswell my former roommate, and reminded him that he still owes me money for all the hotel room service charges I paid for on the road.

Now Don Cardwell is gone.  He was very simply a good friend and a great teammate.  There’s really no need to mention his records.  The fact that he was part of that team insures his name will live on forever.  But, I would be remiss if I didn’t pay tribute to one game in particular that stands out for Don in 1969.  In September, in a doubleheader in Pittsburgh against the Pirates, Jerry Koosman started the first game and pitched a shutout and drove in the winning run in a 1-0 game.  In the second game, Cardwell started, pitched 8 innings (Tug McGraw pitched 1 inning) and Don drove in the winning run in the second game that ended up 1-0 also.   A doubleheader won by the Mets, both 1-0 shutouts and both starting pitchers driving in the winning runs.  It had never been done before.  It was great clutch performances and to this day I can still hear Koosman and Don arguing about whose base hit was hit the best.  Great memories!

I hope it’s a very long time before the next dreaded telephone call.

Art Shamsky was a member of the 1969 World Champion New York Mets.  Read more about Art at artshamsky.com

“He was either steady or wild as a hawk; with no middle ground.  He always had some trick up his sleeve, feeding the visitors on tender little ‘dew drops’ with slight curves, but awful drops” – New York Freeman’s Journal, July, 1896 on Jack Chesbro

The question – Name the Hall of Fame pitcher that owns the greatest season in baseball history.

The answer is rarely correct, even in the town where it happened.

Walk into any corner bar in New York City.  No, not the trendy hangouts, the real bars.  Places like Foley’s, the Molly Wee Pub, Mug Shots, Connolly’s (all of them) or Martell’s on the Upper East Side.  Then look for the fans watching baseball, and ask them which records they think will never be broken  “DiMaggio’s streak”, is a usual first reply.  “Cy Young’s 511 wins” is another popular response.  When one responds “Jack Chesbro’s 41 wins in a season”,  the all-too-familiar refrain of “Who?”always follows.

Hence, the reason for this story, and quite honestly, one of the inspirations this very magazine.

“Only the die-hard baseball fans know about Chesbro”, Baseball America’s Executive Editor Jim Callis said.  ”To many, his achievements were attained too long ago, and they have faded in memory.

“He shouldn’t be anonymous.”

***

John D. “Jack” also known as “Happy Jack” Chesbro was born on June 5, 1874 in North Adams, Massachusetts.  As a boy, he learned how to play the game of baseball with teams like the Houghtonville Nine, as well as other sandlot teams in the locale.

It was at the age of twenty, when working for the state mental hospital in Middletown, NY, when his baseball career really started to take off.  His pleasant disposition with patients and fellow workers earned him his “Happy Jack” moniker, and while playing for the hospital baseball team,  coach Pat McGreehy told Jack he felt he could pitch professionally.So, for the next three years (1895-1897), Chesbro tried to catch on with several teams, all but fruitless.  It wasn’t until 1898-99, when he fashioned a 17-4 mark for Richmond through July 1899 that he caught the eye of the major leagues.

Paying the then-princely sum of $1,500, the Pittsburgh Pirates signed Chesbro for the remainder of the season.

It would take until 1901 for that initial investment to pay off, as Chesbro enjoyed his first 20-win season (21-10, 2.37 ERA) leading the Pirates to their first-ever NL pennant in 1901.

Chesbro followed that year up with an even better season in 1902, posting a 28-6 record with a 2.17 ERA, the year in which he is believed to have first started throwing the spitball.

Seeking to make the most money he could, Chesbro jumped to then-manager Clark Griffith’s New York Highlanders for their first AL season in 1903, going 21-15 with a 2.77 ERA.

He pitched the very first game for the Highlanders (now the Yankees) in team history – a loss – but he made an immediate impact with his team and his young skipper.

“I still remember the first day he threw the (spitball) in a regular game.” said Griffith, recollecting Chesbro’s first season in New York for the Baseball Hall of Fame.  “We were playing Cleveland. He had a tough first inning. They hit him for three runs. He came back to the bench and said, ‘Griff, I haven’t got my natural stuff today. I’m going to give ‘em the spitter the next inning, if it’s all right with you.’ I told him to go to it, and you know what? He fanned fourteen. They didn’t get another run and we won the game 4 to 3.”

With three straight 20-plus win seasons – and an unhittable pitch – under his belt, Chesbro would put together the best single season by any starting pitcher in major league history in 1904.

He started 51 games, completed 48 and tossed 454 innings.  He threw six shutouts, walked just 88 batters and posted a brilliant 41-12 record with a 1.82 ERA..

“Yes, I believe Chesbro’s 41 wins will never be matched,” Callis said, when Gotham Baseball asked him if Chesbro’s feats will ever be felled in this modern era of five-man rotations, pitch counts, glorified middle relievers and the ill-named “quality start.  “Even if, as Bill James believes, that four-man rotations may be back in vogue in the foreseeable future, I can’t see anyone coming close.”

However, as little known as Chesbro’s accomplishments are, it is the last game he pitched in that season – quite unfortunately – that he’s best remembered.

All during the 1904 season, the Highlanders were part of a five-way fight for the pennant with the Red Sox, White Sox, Indians and Philadelphia A’s, but like probably will more than 100 years later, was decided with a five game series between New York and Boston that ended the season.

The Highlanders won the first game, taking a half-game lead.  Boston swept a doubleheader the following day and went ahead by a game and a half, leaving a doubleheader the Highlanders had to sweep in order to overtake Boston.

In the ninth inning, Boston’s Lou Criger singled, then went to second on a sacrifice and advanced to third on a wild pitch. On the next pitch Chesbro’s spitter sailed over the catchers head. Criger came in to score the eventual winning run, giving the Red Sox the pennantAt the time, it overshadowed Chesbro’s brilliant season, and though went 19-13 with a 2.20 ERA in 1905 and a 24-16 record with a 2.96 ERA in 1906, the specter of that wild pitch stayed with him until he left baseball.

He was 10-10 in 1907, 14-20 in 1908, and New York released him during the 1909 season. He finished his career by pitching one game, a loss, for the Boston Red Sox later that season. In 1911, Chesbro coached baseball at Amherst College in Massachusetts, briefly returned to the  majors to coach for the Washington Senators in 1924, and passed away on November 6, 1931.

Seventeen years after his death, he was elected to the Hall of Fame in 1946, and he is the only player among the Cooperstown greats who pitched for a Cooperstown team, the semi-pro Cooperstown Athletics in 1896.

Of all the players enshrined in the Hall of Fame that have won a New York uniform, he is easily the least known and least appreciated.  However, when all is said and done, his 41 wins in a single season remains, and will remain, unbreakable.

(This story was originally published in Gotham Baseball Magazine)

Eddie Lucas was a baseball fan, born into a baseball loving family.

Just hours after watching Bobby Thomspon hit is historic home run against the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1951, Lucas was hit with a baseball in his face. The accident robbed him of his eyesight at the young age of 12. Though he had born with eye disease, he could still see. Now, he no longer would.

“My parents were heartbroken,” Lucas remembered,” They each offered to donate one of their eyes so I could see, but the doctor said that it wouldn’t work.”

Yet, while filled with fear, this was a lad with an iron will, who was determined to overcome this daunting obstacle that fate had cast before him.

He also had a little help along the way.

A chance meeting with a Yankee, Phil “The Scooter” Rizzuto, helped strengthen that will, and soon was enrolled in St. Joseph’s School for the Blind.

Thanks, in part to a special nun named Sr. Anthony Marie, who told Lucas, “We’re all in this together”, the scared little boy learned to use his other senses, learn Braille and other critical skills that would help him to not dependent on others to take care of him for the rest of his life.

As he became more and more adept at his newfound abilities, he also discovered that his love for the game of baseball could endure, and channeled his efforts in become a sports journalist.

Armed with a reel-to-reel to record interviews for radio broadcasts, the young boy was taken under the wing of the Yankee PR department, and a career was born.

“The Yankees, and especially (then-Assistant PR Director) Jackie Farrell, were very kind to me,” Lucas said. “I’d call them up and say ‘I’d like to go to the game today’, and Jackie would take care of it.”
Years later, Lucas – armed with a Degree in Communications from Seton Hall – continued his historic (and too often overlooked) career as a sports writer. Over the years his work as appeared in Baseball Digest, the Hudson Dispatch and the Jersey Journal.

Now, and as he’s done for decades, Lucas has thanked the legendary St. Joseph staff by tireless fundraising efforts.

Those efforts inspired writer Aris Sakellaridis and illustrator John Pennisi to donate half of the proceeds of their book “Yankees Retired Numbers” to help raise the money needed to build a new facility for St. Joseph’s.

With a foreword by Rizzuto, who helped Lucas raise million for the school, the book is an amazing tribute – and a memorabilia collector’s dream – to the Yankee greats of years past.

He may have never worn the uniform, but to witness how Reggie Jackson, Yogi Berra and others interact with Lucas, you’d never know it.

For Lucas, the generosity, respect and admiration shown to him by Yankees owner George Steinbrenner is something that “means a great deal” to him.

“Mr Steinbrenner has always gone out of his way to acknowledge me,” said Lucas. “When others would simply ignore me — thinking I was blind, so I wouldn’t know if they were there (I always could) – he always would say hello and ask me if there was anything he could do.”

The Boss not only said it, he meant it. Because when Lucas requested to be married at home plate at Yankee Stadium – the only person ever such honored – Steinbrenner not only gave the word, he picked up the tab.

“Mr. Steinbrenner’s been so great to me,” Lucas said. “I can’t praise him enough.”

***

For Ray Negron, a chance “meeting” with Steinbrenner changed the course of his life as well.

The encounter, he says “saved my life.” In return, he’s now trying to help others believe that anything is possible.

Born and bred in the Bronx, the then-17 Negron’s vandalism of the House That Ruth Built – he was spray painting a “NY” logo on a wall at Yankee Stadium — was interrupted by none other than the Boss himself, who instead of calling the cops, gave the troubled kid a job, and as it turns out, an incredible opportunity.

“Yes, baseball saved me,” said Negron, “The day Mr. Steinbrenner found me, I was with two cousins and two brothers. The two cousins are both dead from drugs and my two brothers have been in and out of prisons most of their lives.”

Given a job as a Yankee bat boy, Negron was embraced by the Yankees – much like Lucas – and people like Steinbrenner, Billy Martin and Reggie Jackson made a lasting impression on him that “lasts to this day”.

“The three of them had such an effect on me,” Negron said. “Billy was such a good man, a religious man, and he used to tell me ‘Ray, you can do whatever you want to do.’

“He was right.”

Soon after, Negron embarked on an amazing journey that took him to places like being Willie Randolph’s minor league double play partner, acting in Francis Ford Coppola’s Cotton Club and later, working as a player agent and confidant to people like Roberto Alomar, Darryl Strawberry and Dwight Gooden.

Now, though, Negron’s journey has taken him to “The Boy of Steel”.

For years, Negron made dozens of charities and causes that help children with cancer a priority in his life. But with his book, “The Boy of Steel”, he’s making history.

“Going to all the different hospitals through the years, and seeing what I’ve seen and experienced what I’ve experienced, people were always telling me, ‘do a book, do a book, (you’ll make money).” said Negron, who is donating all of the proceeds of the book’s sales to charity. “(But) I could never make money off the death of a child.”

The book tells the story of a cancer patient, Michael Steel, who gets to meet Gehrig and other famous Yankee legends like Babe Ruth and DiMaggio, when he is given the role of Yankees’ bat boy for one day.

“We’re here for a very short time, and what you do with that time is important,” Negron said. “Especially when you have kids, you have to do what you do for the betterment of mankind.

“It’s not like I’m a rich guy or anything like that, said Negron. “I came in with nothing, and I’m going to leave with nothing.

“I want to know when I’m nearing the end, that I can have peace with myself, so when I meet my Maker, I can half at least half-way decent standing with him, know what I mean?”

Many prominent figures have praised the book, including radio icon Don Imus, country star Tim McGraw, “Sopranos” star James Gandolfini and Ron Shelton, producer of the baseball movie “Bull Durham.”
Even the President of the United States sent a personal letter to Negron, congratulating him on the book. Negron was deeply touched by the note, but a correspondence from Steinbrenner was one that Negron says “meant the most to him.”

Considering their history, it makes perfect sense.

“He wrote “I’m proud of you,” Negron said. “I cannot tell you you how much that means to me.”

Also moving, Negron says, has been the response from those who have read the book and shared it with others.

“I had to come up with something that the kids and their mothers and fathers dads could share together,” Negron said. “I can’t tell you how much I enjoy hearing that dads enjoy reading it as much as the kids do.

“I was sitting in the stands one day with Richard Gere, and watching one of the greatest actors of our generation read the book to his son…Well, that was something.”

Ironically, Negron and Lucas had never really met before this year. When Lucas was married at Yankee Stadium, Negron – visibly touched by the event – introduced himself, and a warm freindship was forged.

“When I feel bad, or something is bothering me, I know I can talk to Eddie, and feel better,” smiled Negron. “He may be blind, but he sees more than all of us.”

Inspiration, meet inspiration. Sounds catching. Let’s hope so.

“Yankees Retired Numbers”, written by Aris Sakellaridis, and Illustrated by John Pennisi, is published by by Retired Press. Fifty percent of all sales will be donated to the St. Joseph’s School for the Blind (N.J.).

The “Boy of Steel”, written by Ray Negron, with illustrations by Laura Seeley, is published by Judith Regan of HarperCollins and is already a children’s book best-seller on several lists and has garnered rave reviews. All sales from the “The Boy of Steel” will be directed to various cancer-research centers and charities, including four that Negron has worked with: The Hewlett House (L.I.), Manhattan’s Memorial Sloan-Kettering, Hackensack (N.J.) Medical Center and the Tomorrow’s Children Fund.

(The story was originally published in Gotham Baseball Magazine)

Was it really 10 years ago?

That question has been asked by many a Yankee fan this season – especially after New York was unceremoniously dumped by the Detroit Tigers in first round of the postseason in October.

So, a look back at a happier memory seems apprpropriate, as the 2006 season marked the 10th anniversary of the 1996 team, a group that won the franchise’s first World Championship since the 1978 season.

Perhaps when the team you root for qualifies for the post season year after year, it feels like a natural occurrence. Things weren’t always that way, as the Yankees from 1979 to 1993 only made the postseason once over that entire span (1981).

However, since the Buck Showalter-led Yankees won the 1995 American League Wild Card, the Pinstripers have been perennial postseason party-goers.

The playoff streak, currently at 12 years, could have started a year earlier, as the Yankees were in first place when the 1994 player’s strike wiped out the postseason and World Series.

Nevertheless, the 1995 team was superb in its own right, despite losing the ALDS to the Seattle Mariners. Following that loss, however, Yankee owner George Steinbrenner shocked baseball by firing Showalter and hiring ex-Met, Braves and Cardinals skipper Joe Torre to replace him in the offseason.

What seemed like a questionable decision at the time – tabloids blared headlines like “CLUELESS JOE” — looks brilliant in retrospect.

Another big change on that club was Tino Martinez, acquired to replace the retiring Don Mattingly at first base. This team was loaded with players like Martinez, who avoided the Bronx Zoo escapades of Yankee teams past and established the team’s dignified professionalism that exists to this day.

Another change came in the middle infield, a group that was uncertain in Spring Training until an injury to Tony Fernandez. The vacancy at the shortstop spot was offered to a young rookie named Derek Jeter. While at second base, a mix of players young and old (headed by steady offensive veteran Mariano Duncan) played well enough to make the double-play combo a strength.

Holdovers from Showalter’s teams also shined in 1996.

Wade Boggs, cast aside by the Red Sox after the 1992 season, responded by making the All-Star team in all but one of his five years in pinstripes. In 1996, he remained a key contributor while sharing duties at third base with Charlie Hayes.

Though intially not pleased with the decision (nobody’s perfect) Boggs platoon with Hayes was a solid combination of solid gloves, work ethic, leadership, and hunger to win a championship.

Another twist of irony came when Sierra was dealt to the Tigers for Fielder that June. Clearly not happy in his first stint in pinstripes, complaining that “All they care about in New York (is) winning).”, he would later became one of Joe Torre’s “guys” when he returned to the team a few years later. While Sierra contributed early, his mid-season replacements Cecil Fielder and Darryl Strawberry combined for 24 HRs and 73 RBIs.

The outfield, led by Bernie Williams in center and Paul O’Neill in right, was a real strength; as those two everyday, all-around pros were assisted by the LF mix of Gerald Williams and Tim Raines, a fine mix of speed and veteran moxie.

In September, the Yankees captured their first division crown since 1981 with a 92-77 record, four games better than the Wild Card Baltimore Orioles.

In the ALDS, the Yankees defeated the AL West champion Texas Rangers three games to one, as Bernie Williams (.467 BA, 3 HRs, 5 RBIs) had a big series to help the Bombers move on. In their first ALCS since 1981, New York would face Baltimore, who had ousted the Cleveland Indians, also in four games.

The two AL East powerhouses squared off, and New York, helped by the Jeffrey Maier-assisted opposite field home run off of the bat of Derek Jeter at Yankee Stadium, went on to face the heavily-favored Atlanta Braves in the World Series.

The Fall Classic did not start off very well for the Bombers, as the Braves pounded out a 12-1 shellacking of the home team in Game 1 at Yankee Stadium. Starting pitcher Andy Pettitte was ineffective against a strong Braves line-up, including two home runs from 19-year old center fielder Andruw Jones.

Greg Maddux threw a seven-hit shutout in the next game to give Atlanta a 2-0 edge heading home to Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium. The Braves were in control and it appeared that they would be on their way to being considered a dynasty.

However, the Yankees bounced back with a 5-2 victory in Game Three. David Cone and three relievers held down the Braves’ offense and the Yanks got to Tom Glavine enough for the series-saving win.

Game Four looked to be comfortably in the Braves’ hands when they built a six-run lead through the first five innings. The Bombers chipped away to cut the lead in half and headed to the eighth inning looking for more. They got the equalizer when replacement catcher Jim Leyritz took Braves closer Mark Wohlers deep for a three-run bomb that was the turning point in the series.
The Yankees eventually won the game to get even at two games a piece.

Game Five was a pitcher’s duel that was won by Pettitte over John Smoltz 1-0. The Yankees headed home after an improbable sweep on the road with a one-game lead, closing out an era in Fulton County Stadium.

In Game Six, Jimmy Key faced off against Greg Maddux. The Yanks put up a three spot in the bottom of the third inning, and the lead held. When Charlie Hayes gloved a foul pop-up for the 27th out, the Bombers beat Atlanta 3-2 in the clincher, and the team celebrated their first World Series win since 1978,. Fittingly, it was that same year that Graig Nettles made a similar put-out in Boston to propel the Yankees to the ALCS in a one-game playoff for the AL East.

Yankees closer John Wetteland received the series MVP award with saves in all four wins. The great Mariano Rivera, then baseball’s best setup man, was equally brilliant.

Although it was deemed an upset at the time, the Yankees established themselves as a powerhouse team quickly. They had a hiccup the following season in a playoff loss to Cleveland, but then won three consecutive World Series championships from 1998 to 2000.

Torre was the perfect manager for that veteran-laden 1996 team. Showalter, a popular skipper in his own right, had a completely different style than his laid-back successor.

His mannerisms dictated trust and belief in his team, especially the veteran leaders that took care of the locker room. There were plenty, with Wade Boggs, Paul O’Neill, Strawberry, Raines, Wetteland and Cone amongst others. This was a team built to win and did just that.

Rivera, Williams, Jeter and Jorge Posada are the only remaining Yankees from the 1996 team. Each has played a big role in the Yankees’ run in the ’90′s and beyond.
Rivera and Jeter are first-ballot Hall of Famers, Williams (whose return in 2007 was still up in the air at press time) has had a wonderful career, and Jorge Posada has been steady and clutch behind the plate.

With youngsters like Robinson Cano, Chien-Ming Wang and Melky Cabrera poised to become great Yankees in their own right, the core of the 1996 club is still around to help them start their own dynasty.

Joe Pietaro is Editor of New York Sportscene Magazine