Excerpt
Chapter One
1947
Rookie Awakening
I was a bit eager, maybe a bit nervous, just trying totake life as I found it. Spring training with the NewYork Yankees sure beat shoveling coal or unloadingcases of bottles off a truck. There were big expectations for the Yankees in '47, big questions, too. Beingonly February, nobody knew what lay ahead when weleft LaGuardia Field (that was before it was calledLaGuardia Airport) for an unusual barnstorming tripthrough Latin America before spring training in St. Petersburg. It started in San Juan, Puerto Rico, thenCaracas, Venezuela, and Havana, Cuba, then wound up at our training camp. It caused grumbling, because theveterans felt it was too much travel, too hot, and forty-five exhibition games were unnecessary. Just one ofLarry MacPhail's make-more-money schemes, they said. To me it was fun. It was baseball.
I wasn't sure what to expect that spring, just not somuch atten
Excerpt
Chapter One
1947
Rookie Awakening
I was a bit eager, maybe a bit nervous, just trying totake life as I found it. Spring training with the NewYork Yankees sure beat shoveling coal or unloadingcases of bottles off a truck. There were big expectations for the Yankees in '47, big questions, too. Beingonly February, nobody knew what lay ahead when weleft LaGuardia Field (that was before it was calledLaGuardia Airport) for an unusual barnstorming tripthrough Latin America before spring training in St. Petersburg. It started in San Juan, Puerto Rico, thenCaracas, Venezuela, and Havana, Cuba, then wound up at our training camp. It caused grumbling, because theveterans felt it was too much travel, too hot, and forty-five exhibition games were unnecessary. Just one ofLarry MacPhail's make-more-money schemes, they said. To me it was fun. It was baseball.
I wasn't sure what to expect that spring, just not somuch attention. Almost the minute we got to PuertoRico somebody was saying something or doing something, and I was in the middle. One day I'd find soap and sand and water in my catcher's mitt. Another day I'd find stuff in my athletic supporter that'd burn your skin. Rookie pranks have always been part of baseball, so I figured this was welcome to the Yankees. Wisecracks about my looking like a Neanderthal man, nothing I could do to change that. The writers came over to me a lot and made sport of my looks and things I said, even if I didn't say exactly what I said. Sometimes they made it sound like I didn't know anything. Maybe it was my habit of saying "Huh?" when theyasked a question. That's because I wasn't always surewhat they were getting at.
Sure I was a little naïve, and it showed. Because of the political conditions in Venezuela that spring, I gotpawed by a policeman, who was apparently looking for a gun as I entered the ballpark. I thought it was an oldVenezuelan greeting and gave the cop a big hug in return. The poor guy twitched in embarrassment.
Actually, I'd gotten a preview of some razzing aboutme the last week of the'46 season. After a couple ofgames with the Yankees, Bill Summers, the umpire, said to me, "Welcome to the club." I thought that wasa bit presumptuous, so I asked, "What club?" He said, "The All-Ugly Club." I looked at Summers and toldhim that he must be the president, and we both had alaugh. Most of the jokes about me were kidding. If Icouldn't take anything said about me, cruel or otherwise, I figured I wouldn't be in baseball long. Besides, there's an old saying, if they don't like you, they won'tnotice you.
One thing I never wanted to do was make a fool ofmyself on the ball field. I belonged on the field, and I'dalways believed that. I knew this was a big chance, too. Off the field there were big happenings in 1947 thatset the stage for a momentous year. Leo Durocher, manager of the Brooklyn Dodgers, who we played alot that spring, got suspended for the whole year byCommissioner Happy Chandler for "incidents detrimental to baseball." I guess the last straw was his tirade against Larry MacPhail, who charged he was cavorting with Cuban gamblers. The Dodgers trained in Havana to lessen the prejudice against Jackie Robinson, who they wanted to bring up as the first black player. I'd played against Jackie the previous year in the International League and no question he was an excellent player. But there was still a question whether the Dodgers would really bring him up. I didn't think much about blacks playing in the majors for the firsttime. If they had the skills, they should play. Playingagainst Jackie with Montreal, I always felt respect anddon't remember any incidents. But there was prejudiceall around, that's for sure. As a kid going to Sportsman'sPark, I was always bothered to see the black fansrestricted to the right-field pavilion; it bothered memore that it was the last park with segregated seating.
Jackie breaking the color barrier was a tremendousthing. That spring Durocher was great in supportinghim, because he knew the Dodgers needed his talentand Jackie deserved a shot. Certainly the war affected alot of teams; it took a while for veterans to get intoshape and find their rhythm again. So there wereopportunities. That was the case with the Yankees, who sort of fell off in 1946. They had a lot of players coming and going, and it was no surprise they finishedin third, seventeen games behind the Red Sox.
The biggest question that spring was Joe DiMaggio's heel; he had a bone spur removed in February, andnobody knew when he'd be ready. There was also anew manager, Bucky Harris, who they used to call"Boy Wonder" because he was real young when hemanaged the Washington Senators back in the 1920s. He wasn't a boy anymore, or a wonder. He was welltraveled and could shoot the bull pretty good with thewriters. He looked like a hard rock because he camefrom Pennsylvania coal country, but he was quiet andlow-key. I remember that spr ng DiMaggio told abunch of us, "Harris is a real nice guy. Let's give himall we've got."
Continues...
Excerpted from Ten Ringsby Yogi Berra Copyright © 2003 by Yogi Berra. Excerpted by permission.
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