NY Yankees' history transcends "Mr. Coffee"

Mickey Mantle entranced my generation. Joe DiMaggio belonged to an earlier time. We associated DiMaggio with his "Mr. Coffee" TV commercials. We probably thought of the coffee thing before we thought of Marilyn Monroe. Henry Fonda was parodied for his exaggerated way of pronouncing "GAF" in commercials, remember?
In the days before personal computers, us boomers could be quite glued to the TV. We loved TV but we also loved the parodies of TV that Mad Magazine gave us. And, the comedians who said "GAF" the way an aging Fonda did.
Fred MacMurray made his mark with Greyhound Bus commercials. MacMurray had a reputation in Hollywood of having built his assets very well. He made his mark with boomers, indelibly, with his "Absent Minded Professor" and "flubber" thing. Have you noticed that when you re-watch old Disney movies as an adult, they don't seem as good?
Billy Crystal made a movie that was a paean to the background of sports entertainment for boys. Sure, the boomer boys of Minnesota totally loved our new team. But as much as we wanted our Twins to surpass the Yankees, we developed a soft spot in our hearts for the Yankees. We could be transfixed by Mickey Mantle. Mantle's name probably inspired more awe in us than Harmon Killebrew's. The Yankees echoed history. They were a dynastic team whose history was in grainy old black-and-white film. It was with reverence that we considered the Yankees.
Crystal was obviously in love with the particular generation of Yankees that played in the late '50s and early '60s. That generation touched us with interesting personalities. We learned much more about all that in Jim Bouton's 1970 book "Ball Four." I have written a whole blog post about the Phil Linz harmonica incident. The Yankees became out-sized personalities. Players with borderline talent could become celebrities. The Yankees traded Bill Skowron to pave the way for Joe Pepitone at first base. Pepitone had his assets but his reputation got overblown. Some of that reputation was notorious. Crystal's generation clutches all those memories. I'm in the ranks.

Yanks in a fishbowl
Personally, I loved our Twins but felt fascinated with the Yankees. Our Twins almost caught the Yankees in 1962. But we would have to wait until 1965. The Yankee dynasty of that era ended after '64, a year in which they won the pennant narrowly but lost the World Series to St. Louis. Yogi Berra was manager. Berra dealt with the Linz harmonica thing. The harmonica incident was a microcosm of how the Yankees got media attention even for trivial things. They were the Yankees and the whole world watched.

Bouton bought the premise that the Yankees were justifiably the focus for all the attention. He mined the personalities of that era, gaining considerable fodder for his 1970 book. It was a book that re-defined the boundaries that existed for sports books. The boundaries got wiped away. If Bouton had not written the book (with considerable help from a New York sportswriter), a book of this type was going to be written soon anyway. I was drawn into the "Ball Four" book too much. I bought Bouton's questioning attitudes too much. That's from my 2018 perspective. More mature? I don't know, maybe it's more a matter of prevailing zeitgeist.
It's hard to remember how we might have developed some of our past attitudes. The questioning of orthodoxy, in anything, was quite approved in the '60s and early '70s. Today I'm more inclined to think that a certain level of decorum should be maintained in sports journalism. Respect the old boundaries more. The Internet allows us to explore all angles anyway. It's futile to guard secrets.
I enjoyed those personalities of the New York Yankees in the early '60s. There was Roger Maris with that one incredible season he had hitting home runs. Crystal's movie was based on that '61 season. That was the very first season for our Twins. Phil Linz was basically a utility player. Hardly anyone would remember Linz today if he had played for, say, the Kansas City Athletics. Some historians diss Linz as a less than stellar player from the days of Mantle. Silly rabbit, anyone on the Yankees' roster was worthy of full respect.
I got my parents to buy me the paperback autobiography of Bobby Richardson. Richardson was a fixture in the Yankees' infield, holding down second base. I saw him as the quintessential infielder, a vacuum cleaner for ground balls. It was a more dangerous position then, when baserunners had total license to "take out the second baseman." Our Bob Allison had a reputation for doing that well. The Twins were willing to risk Rod Carew's body at second base. Years later we would risk the body of Joe Mauer at catcher, the most grueling position on the diamond in terms of bodily risk and deterioration. Mauer's bat was too valuable to have his body subjected to that punishment. A simple foul tip to the catcher's mask can send a player into concussion protocol nowadays. How many catchers in the past might have suffered because of the lack of protocols?

Bobby Richardson was a total October player but with one exception, when one looks at two errors he committed in the '64 Series. Those errors could well have cost the Yankees that Series.

Niche as committed Christian
In '64 the Yankees had this one last summer of legendary quality. Their fortunes deteriorated fast after that. I still have the Bobby Richardson book. It seems genuine as a true autobiography, i.e. not ghostwritten. Christian faith has been a defining feature of the man. He grew up as a Southern Baptist in South Carolina. He's from Sumter in that state.
Christians who wear their faith on their sleeve often irritate me. While Bobby is comfortable putting his faith out front as if he credits it for everything - an attitude that I generally don't like - I have always totally liked the man. He must have a nature of not being overly judgmental.
I recall one little passage in Bouton's book that seemed to involve Richardson but not so by name! Bouton referred to a "Fellowship of Christian Athletes" type in an anecdote. A teammate in a hotel room, peering into the neighboring room through some hole, claimed he saw something quite titillating. He swore that it was a must-see! "Boyohboyohboy," Bouton quoted him saying. Even poor Bobby Richardson - I'm assuming the target of the prank was him - had to give in. Once Richardson got his eye trained, he was "treated to the sight of a man sitting on the edge of the bed tying his shoes," Bouton recalled. 
Richardson always looked serious to the point of seeming grim on his baseball cards. His real nature projected much more cheer.
Bouton wrote about "beaver shots." Remember? The less said about that the better - it seems sexist now to recall such stuff.
I liked Bobby Richardson just as much as I liked Bernie Allen, the Twins' original second baseman. Richardson hung around to play two more seasons after the Yanks' dynasty folded. And it really did fold, pretty dramatically. Mantle hung around, belying his physical complications. Maris moved on to St. Louis for 1967 and continued his career surprisingly well there, getting in two more World Series'. Richardson handled his glove at second base in front of the Yankee Stadium crowd, even in the 1966 season when the bottom totally fell out for the team. It was a spectacular drop in fortunes. Bouton had developed a sore arm, so common for pitchers at the time (no pitch count).
The days of Casey Stengel were rapidly receding into the past. I thought Stengel was eased out as manager by the manner in which the '60 World Series slipped away from the Bronx crew, to Pittsburgh. It was in 1960 that the Pirates won the Series with Bill Mazeroski's home run at the end. Sometimes we in Minnesota think our 1991 World Series success ought to be remembered better in our national lore. You just as easily can argue this about the '60 Series, so we're not alone. And the '60 Series had the marquee attraction of the Yankees.

Ode to a second baseman
I have written a song about Bobby Richardson. Let's just call it "Ballad of Bobby Richardson." The melody is strophic - just one melodic idea, very practical for a story-telling song. We'll see if I ever get it recorded. I'm pleased to share the lyrics here - thanks for reading. - B.W.
 
"Ballad of Bobby Richardson"
by Brian Williams
 
I can look from the time machine
At Bobby Richardson
Standing there at second
Pinstripes and a grin
He fielded grounders like a madman on a binge
With his New York Yankees
Bobby Richardson
 
He was steeped in his Christian faith
From when he was a boy
Learning Baptist vision
Finding church a joy
It was a bulwark that he used to move ahead
Never with misgivings
Never with regret
 
He was born in the southern state
Where tall palmettos bloom
Sumter was his hometown
There he found his groove
He never missed a chance to get out on the field
Baseball was his mission
Baseball his ideal
 
As a boy he was energized
And found his perfect fit
He could field a grounder
Like it was God's gift
He lived with Casey's growl and moved on up the ranks
'Til he reached the summit
Telling God his thanks
 
In the fall when the candidates
Were jockeying once more
Kennedy and Nixon
Came out to the fore
Yanks sought a Series crown but it was not to be
Still we saw our Bobby
Getting MVP
 
Two years hence, in October sun
The Yankees took the field
Cuban missile crisis
There for all to feel
Thanks to God's providence the match was never lit
So we could love baseball
Feel the joy of it
 
It was down to the very end
And Yankees had to sweat
Giants were imposing
They had quite the threat
Then came a frozen rope just like it was from hell
Bobby reached and caught it
Answering the bell
 
He would bleed his humility
And share with all who asked
How he made it happen
With his glove and bat
Yes, there was family and friends along the way
And a higher power
He would surely say
 
I can look from the time machine
At Bobby Richardson
Standing there at second
Pinstripes and a grin
He fielded grounders like a madman on a binge
With his New York Yankees
Bobby Richardson

 
- Brian Williams - morris mn minnesota - bwilly73@yahoo.com