5,000 Words on Strat-o-Matic
Posted: December 23rd, 2009 | Filed under: Baseball, Media | 80 Comments »
Top of first inning: Slim Jones pitching. Cool Papa Bell grounds out to short. Pop Lloyd flies out to left. Buck Leonard hits a deep fly ball to right field. No runs, no hits, no errors. Pozmen 0, Skyliners 0.
Bottom of first inning: Hilton Smith pitching. Bullet Joe Rogan strikes out. Willie Wells singles. Oscar Charleston singles, Wells to second. Josh Gibson strikes out. Jud Wilson singles, scoring Wells. Cristobal Toriente flies to center. One run, three hits, no errors. Skyliners 1, Pozmen 0.
* * *
I have never forgotten that Olan Taylor, a good-fielding first baseman in the Negro Leagues in the 1930s and ‘40s, was called Satan for a while. The accepted reason was because Olan Taylor “could play like the devil” or could “knock the devil out of the ball” or some such innocent thing that probably had nothing to do with it. I remember this, though, because Olan Taylor’s mother was deeply religious and refused to watch her son play ball as long as they called him Satan. And so, for the rest of his life, they called him Jelly Taylor.
I remember that story because my friend Buck O’Neil told it to me somewhere along the way. Buck died more than three years ago now, and I’ll bet that I have never gone more than two or three days without thinking about some advice he gave me or meeting someone whose life was affected by him or remembering something about the way he talked. Mostly, though, I remember the stories.
There’s Oliver Marcelle, the brilliant fielding third baseman everyone called the Ghost, who was apparently so mean he once hit the great Oscar Charleston in the head with a bat. Buck never believed that though. He said that Charleston himself was so mean that if anyone ever hit him with a bat, they would not live to tell about it.
There’s the great Willard Brown, who some teammates would call “Sonny” because, they said that Willard would only play hard on sunny days. Sonny Brown was the first African American to hit a home run in the American League — he borrowed a bat from teammate St. Louis Browns teammate Jeff Heath and hit an inside-the-park homer off Hal Newhouser. When Willard Brown returned to the Kansas City Monarchs — he only played 21 games in the big leagues — he apparently told Buck that after the home run, Heath broke the bat.
There’s Satchel Paige, and that sparks the Nancy story, of course. I cannot tell you how many times I heard the Nancy story. Fifty? A hundred? Buck could go 20 minutes on the Nancy story. I’ve come up with a shortened version: Buck and Satchel Paige were sitting in a hotel in Chicago when a taxi pulled up and out stepped Nancy (“Pretty as a picture”), who Satchel had invited to Chicago. After they went up to the room, another taxi pulled up, and this time it was Lahoma — Satchel’s fiancee. Buck, thinking quickly, went out to meet Lahoma, told her Satchel was off with some reporters, and then had the bellman straighten things out upstairs. Satchel slipped out the fire escape and then walked through the front door to meet Lahoma … like nothing had happened.*
*Tiger Woods could have used a bit of Satchel’s style.
That night, Buck sat awake and waited to see how Satchel would handle the situation. Around midnight, he heard Satchel’s door open, and Buck (being the snooping kind) tiptoed to the door to listen. He heard Satchel knock on the door and whisper “Nancy.” No answer. Satchel knocked a little louder. “Nancy!” No answer. Satchel knocked loud. “NANCY!” And then a door opened — but it was from Satchel’s room. That had to be Lahoma.
And with that, Buck opened his door and said, “Did you want something Satchel?”
And Satchel Paige saw Lahoma and said, “Yes Nancy, what time is the game tomorrow.”
And for the rest of his life, Satchel Paige called Buck “Nancy.”
* * *
Top of fourth inning: Slim Jones pitching. Cool Papa Bell doubles. Pop Lloyd strikes out. Buck Leonard sees a fastball — nobody hits the fastball better — and hits a long home run to right field, Bell scores. Slim Jones kicks the mound. Turkey Stearnes grounds out to shortstop. Willard Brown hits deep fly ball to left. Two runs, two hits, no errors. Pozmen 2, Skyliners 1.
* * *
I am thinking about these stories now because I am looking through an amazing set of cards. This is the new Strat-o-Matic Negro League All-Stars baseball set. This is the culmination of a lifetime of dreaming by Strat-o-Matic founder Hal Richman, and many hard years of work by a limousine dispatcher named Scott Simkus. More on them in a bit.
Strat-o-Matic, you no doubt know, is a baseball strategy game. The slogan on the box is “Manage Major League Players who hit, pitch, field and run as they do in real life.” The slogan isn’t necessarily catchy — I think of the Geico commercial where the executive comes up with his own dynamite slogans like “They’re the bee’s knees!” — but it’s appropriate because what has made Strat-o-Matic so important and affecting to generations of baseball fans like me (and so inscrutable to others) is exactly what the box promises. You get to manage real life baseball players. The cards can come to life. The dice can sound like the crack of the bat.
“Gary Geiger!” Bob Costas shouted out when I just mentioned the word “Strat-o-Matic.” Geiger was a fairly talented outfielder in the 1960s — a little power, a little speed — who apparently wore false teeth when he was 22 years old. And in 1967 — the year after Geiger hit four home runs for Atlanta — a 15-year-old Bob Costas pulled out the Geiger card in desperation. The bases were loaded. There were two outs. He needed a home run to win the game against his cousin, John Miller. And Gary Geiger hit that home run.
“John Miller is a respected oncologist in Washington, D.C.,” Costas said some 35 years later. “But if you walked up to him today and said the name ‘Gary Geiger,’ a look of pure horror would come over him.”
When I first wrote that story, I heard from a relative of Gary Geiger, who expressed extreme joy about it. As he should. Because the genius of Strat-o-Matic comes from what we all know: Baseball is a game of numbers. Yes, that means players’ skills can be expressed in numbers. But maybe it also means that numbers can be expressed in players. If 61 is Maris and 714 is the Babe and 755 is Aaron and 42 is Jackie and 56 is DiMaggio and 5714 is Nolan and 511 is Cy … then baseball numbers can have a life of their own. Not everyone believes that. But enough of us do to make Strat-o-Matic a successful game for almost 50 years.
But it has to be real. That’s the hard part. The numbers on the card have to lift off the cardboard. And that is why this Negro League Baseball set was so hard to do. Because there has always been something very unreal about Negro Leagues Baseball.
* * *
Bottom of the fourth inning: Hilton Smith pitching. Jud Wilson hits a line drive single up the middle. Cristobal Toriente gets jammed and pops up to first where Buck Leonard makes the play. Sammy Hughes hits a ground ball to third, and Ray Dandridge makes a nice play and gets the runner at second by Hughes beats the throw to first. Ghost Marcelle hits a long fly ball, deep to left field, Willard Brown goes way back, goes to the wall, leaps … and makes the catch. No runs. One hit. No errors. Pozmen 2, Skyliners 1.
* * *
I have always been drawn to stories about Cool Papa Bell. And I have always been repelled by them too. You know the stories I’m talking about, right? Cool Papa Bell was so fast, he once hit a line drive up the middle and was hit by the ball as he slid into second base. Cool Papa Bell was so fast that he once scored from first on a bunt. Cool Papa Bell was so fast he would steal second and third on the same pitch. Cool Papa Bell was so fast managers would play six infielders and let Cool Papa handle the outfield. Cool Papa Bell — here’s the famous one — was so fast he could turn out the light and be in bed before the room got dark.
There’s something charming about these lines, of course. But there’s something phony about them too. Cool Papa Bell was a real man, flesh and blood, who played in various Negro Leagues from the early 1920s to the mid-1940s. He was, by surviving accounts, a breathtakingly fast player who could chase down fly balls all over the park and beat out routine ground balls hit to shortstop. He hit .300 just about every year, often hit .330, sometimes hit .350. But he did not hit .900, and he did not steal two bases on single pitches with regularity, and in fact most of the sketchy numbers that have been gathered show disappointingly low stolen base totals for Cool Papa throughout his career. The Shades of Glory numbers — the data gathered by the Baseball Hall of Fame Negro Leagues study — show Cool Papa with only 144 stolen bases in 865 recorded games.
There are logical reasons for this. (1) Stolen bases were often missing from Negro Leagues boxes. (2) Cool Papa spent much of his time batting ahead of batting legends like Oscar Charleston, Josh Gibson, Buck Leonard, Mule Suttles and so on … and as such he was probably not asked to steal much. (3) The Negro Leagues were built around speed, and as such pitchers spent a lot of effort keeping runners close* and catchers like Biz Mackey, Josh Gibson, Frank Duncan and others had preposterously great arms. The idea was to shut down the running game … and teams were much more likely to sacrifice bunt or hit and run than pull the straight steal. Still, that is a staggeringly low number of stolen bases. To give you an idea, Pokey Reese had 144 stolen bases in about the same number of games.
*Another Buck O’Neil story: He said Luis Tiant Sr. had such a good move to first base that he once struck out a batter who swung at a pickoff attempt to first base. I told that story in New York and Jonathan Hock, who directed the excellent “The Lost Son of Havana,” a documentary about the young Luis Tiant, was in the audience and he said that the story is 100 percent true; it was a story young Luis told often.
The Cool Papa Conundrum, as I call it, is to me the toughest part about remembering and celebrating the Negro Leagues. On the one hand, these myths and nicknames and stories are so wonderful and poignant and memorable. And on the other hand, they can turn these players into something more or something less than they were. And often they can turn players in something more AND something less than they were at the same time.
When people would ask Buck how fast Cool Papa Bell was, his answer was always the same. “Faster than that,” he would say. Buck spent a lifetime trying to keep alive the memories of men who were denied their chance to play baseball in the Major Leagues. Sometimes, at the end of his life, I sensed that he worried that people would remember the stories, but they would forget the men.
* * *
Top of the seventh. Slim Jones pitching. He’s a tall left-hander, 6-foot-6, with a fastball that people say is as good as Satchel Paige’s. He will die at 25, Slim Jones will. The story would go that he sold his overcoat for one more bottle of whiskey, and that’s how he caught pneumonia. He again faces Buck Leonard — the black Lou Gehrig, as everyone calls him — and the crowd is wild, and Slim knows better than to try and beat Buck with a fastball here. He gets ahead and then throws a breaking pitch of some kind. In the Negro Leagues, spitting on the ball, cutting the ball, well, it’s not “legal” exactly, but nobody will stop you. Buck Leonard swings over the top for strike three.
Turkey Stearnes steps in — they either call him Turkey because of the way he runs or because of his affinity for Turkey — but either way no Negro Leagues player hit more home runs. Much of this is because Mack Park, where the Detroit Stars play, is a bandbox. But Stearnes can hit them as far as just about anybody. Slim Jones plunks him. Turkey stares at Slim Jones. They say Turkey Stearnes talks to his bats … and they are among his best friends.
Slim Jones then faces Sonny Brown and gets him to hit a fielder’s choicer grounder back to the mound. When Sonny Brown wants to run, he can run as fast as just about anyone in the Negro Leagues — he sometimes steals bases standing up. Ray Dandridge then grounds out to short to end the inning. No runs. No hits. No errors. Pozmen 2, Skyliners 1.
* * *
“You’re up against all this … stuff,” Hal Richman says. Hal’s story is familiar — he was that kid who needed to escape a demanding father. He didn’t play guitar like Bruce Springsteen or walk the countryside like Dostoevsky or learn to switch-hit like Pete Rose.* No, he went into his bedroom and rolled dice 5,000 times and came up with a chart. When he was old enough, he borrowed $5,000 from his father on the condition that if his game failed — and it surely would — Hal would join his father in the insurance business.
*Joan Allen: “How many ballplayers grow up afraid of losing their father’s love every time they come up to the plate?”
Joe Mantegna: “All of them!”
– Searching for Bobby Fischer.
The game almost failed. But Hal kept going. And Strat-o-Matic (a name he came up with while shoveling the driveway in Great Neck, N.Y.) survived and thrived because while Hal was creating a children’s game — well, ages 9 to adult — he was not thinking about protecting the children. He was not interested in creating myths or, as Red Smith used to say, godding up the players. He wanted .220 hitters to stink. He wanted clumsy left fielders to fall down. He wanted tomato can pitchers to give up rocket line drives. he wanted immobile shortstops to give up a lot of ground ball singles. He wanted authenticity — all the glory and disappointment that baseball can bring.*
*There’s a story that when statue-like Gregg Jefferies played left field late in his career, a few Strat-o-Matic fans in the crowd began chanting “You’re a five! You’re a five!” — 5 being the worst possible defender on the Strat-o-Matic scale. A Strat-o-Matic 5 means you have roughly the same range and instincts as lawn furniture on a slightly breezy day.
It is this unsentimental approach that has made Strat-o-Matic so real and so successful. Because of this, there have always been some lingering doubts in Hal’s mind about doing a Negro Leagues set. Oh, sure, he has long WANTED to do one. He has long felt an affinity for the Negro Leagues. He had spent hundreds of hours reading baseball stories and he felt heartsick reading about the way black players were treated. On the other hand, he had no interest at all in putting together some sort of fantastical baseball set that would be built around fly balls that never land or fastballs so fast that no one could see them. He had even less interest in putting together a baseball set that would somehow undervalue the talents of those great players. The task seemed mostly impossible.
* * *
Top of the eight inning: Bullet Joe Rogan is now pitching, having moved in from left field. The Negro Leagues was like that. Rosters were limited — money was always tight — and so sometimes players pitched and pitchers played. Double Duty Radcliffe got that name from the famed writer Damon Runyon after catching one game in a doubleheader and pitching another. Martin Dihigo was probably the second-greatest pitcher-hitter combo in baseball history behind Ruth. And Bullet Joe Rogan may be the third greatest. He starts off the inning walking Biz Mackey … Roy Campanella used to say that Biz Mackey taught him everything he knew about catching.
Newt Allen then sacrifices Mackey to second, and Chino Smith is sent in to pinch-hit. History has sort of forgotten about Chino Smith. He may have been the greatest pure hitter ever in any of the Negro Leagues. In 1929, while playing for the New York Lincoln Giants, it was said that he hit .468. The sketchy numbers have him hitting .423 for his career. In his first game in Yankee Stadium, he hit two home runs and a triple. Chino will die when he is 29 years old of Yellow Fever. But at this moment, he steps in and faces relief pitcher Andy Cooper, a veteran lefty. And Chino smashes a line drive single up the middle, scoring Mackey. The crowd goes crazy. Satchel Paige begins to warm up in the Pozmen pen.
* * *
This is where Scott Simkus enters our story. Scott lives in Chicago. He has lived a fairly uneventful life — a few jobs, a family, he has been playing Strat-o-Matic since he was a kid — and one day he called up Hal Richman and said that he had gathered some 3,000 Negro Leagues box scores and was interested in turning them into a Strat-o-Matic game.
You will ask: Why did Scott Simkus have 3,000 Negro Leagues box scores? Well, even he is not able to explain that. Somewhere along the way, he had started looking in microfilm for some evidence about his grandfather, who would talk about playing baseball against the famous Cuban Stars. And, well, it just became an obsession. He was supposed to be selling copiers … but he was sneaking into libraries to copy more box scores. He was driving limos … and he was thinking about box scores. He was playing semi-pro softball … and he was thinking about box scores.
Well, it’s not exactly right to say he was thinking about box scores. He was thinking about the players in the box scores. He wondered: How good were they really? The books he read about the Negro Leagues — some were entertaining, some were not, but none of them quite filled his mind. None of them really told him in a satisfying way how great a pitcher Satchel Paige was, how great a player Oscar Charleston was, how great a hitter Josh Gibson really was. “People kept saying, ‘Oh he would hit 800 home runs,’” Simkus says. “He was a catcher. There’s no way.”
It turned out that Simkus wanted exactly what Richman wanted — something to believe in. And so they broke down the numbers they had. And they adjusted those numbers. And adjusted them again. They ranked the varying strength of the Negro Leagues. They used exhibition games between Negro Leagues players and Major Leaguers to help determine their comparative strength, but then they used more exhibition games between Negro League players and minor league teams and then they used MORE exhibition games between Negro Leagues players and semi-pro teams (which were often better than minor league teams). They followed those players who moved from the Negro Leagues into pro ball and, in a few cases, into the Major Leagues.
Hal asked some hard questions. He wanted to challenge Simkus. “After all that work, my feeling is that the Negro Leagues, most of the time, were playing at about a Triple-A level. Some years, they were better than that. But most years, at about a Triple-A level. But every year the best players in the Negro Leagues were as good or better than the best players in the Major Leagues.”
They determined that Josh Gibson was the second-best power hitter in baseball history — behind only Ruth. They determined that Oscar Charleston was, quite possibly, the best player the game has ever known (his number on the card: .391/.478/.693 with immense home run power and blinding AA base stealing speed). They determined that Satchel Paige was electrifyingly good, a strikeout pitcher with eerie control, and almost impossible to hit a home run against.
But these were the obvious ones. They also put together cards for great players you may not know like the excellent shortstop Dick Lundy, or the best curveball-pitcher of the Negro Leagues Hilton Smith, or the athletic first baseman Superman Pennington, who played in the 1940s and was around to help Simkus fill in some of the gaps.
“You can read about something,” Simkus says. “But when you play a GAME, it can mean something entirely new …”
* * *
Top of the ninth: Andy Cooper is pitching, and he gets Buck Leonard to ground out to first. But then, Turkey Stearnes singles, and the Skyliners manager — my buddy Chardon Jimmy — is beginning to panic. There’s no doubt that he is still feeling regret because in the bottom of the eighth (with his Skyliners down 3-1) he inexplicably had Oscar Charleston try to steal second with Josh Gibson at the plate. Charleston was gunned down by Biz Mackey … and when Gibson followed by getting hit by a pitch and Jud Wilson followed again with a single, Chardon Jimmy was already thinking about what he was going to say to the media after the game.
“When you have a player as great as Oscar Charleston, you have to allow him the opportunity to make plays,” he had decided to say. There is no way, of course, that the media will buy this. He had a player steal a base with JOSH GIBSON at the plate. Chardon Jimmy is very quickly heading into the Grady Little Hall of Fame for managers.
“I’m putting in Smokey Joe Williams,” Chardon Jimmy says. Smokey was only one of Joe Williams’ many nicknames. They called him “Cyclone.” And, sensibly enough, they also called him “Strikeout.” In 1952, the PIttsburgh Courier had a poll in an effort to determine the greatest players in Negro Leagues history. The pitcher was not Satchel Paige. It was Smokey Cyclone Strikeout Joe Williams.
Chardon Jimmy does not know any of this. He knows of the Negro Leagues what he has picked up listening to me or reading something else. He knows that Satchel Paige was really good and Josh Gibson hit long home runs and Cool Papa Bell was fast. He knows that Buck O’Neil was classy and that Oscar Charleston was bigger, stronger, perhaps even faster version of Willie Mays — or as Buck O’Neil used to say, “The best Major League player I ever saw was Willie Mays. But the best PLAYER I ever saw was Oscar Charleston. To us old timers, Willie Mays was the closest thing to Oscar Charleston.”
But he does not know hardly anything beyond that sentence. Or he didn’t before the game began. Now he knows that Bullet Joe Rogan was both a leadoff hitter and a great pitcher. He knows that Josh Gibson had a great arm, and Ghost Marcelle played a great third base, and Jud Wilson could really hit (four-for-four so far!). He knows that Slim Jones was awesome, and that Buck Leonard could hit fastballs, and that Hilton Smith could work his way out of jams.
And now, he brings in Smokey Joe Williams, and Willard Brown steps in, and — crack! — Brown hits a double. Turkey Stearnes scores from first. Smokey Joe gets out of the inning without any more damage, but the Pozmen lead 4-1, with only the bottom of the ninth, and Satchel Paige is on the mound. All is lost for Chardon Jimmy.
* * *
My mind is filled with Negro Leagues stories. I see “Frank Duncan” and I immediately remember that he was once married to the jazz and blues singer, Julia Lee, who was a favorite of Harry Truman.
I see “Leon Day” and I think of the 1942 Negro Leagues World Series, which the Kansas City Monarchs won in four straight games, sort of. They actually won it in five games — but the fourth game was disallowed because the opposing Homestead Gray “borrowed” Philadelphia’s Leon Day to be their starting pitcher. Day out-pitched Satchel Paige … and I have often thought this would be a great way to do business. The Phillies are down 3 games to 2 in the World Series and … hey, they “borrow” Tim Lincecum to start. That would be so great.
I see “Hilton Smith” and I think about him teaching a teammate to read while riding on the bus to next game. I see “Spot Poles” and I think about how many people say he was as fast as Cool Papa Bell. I see “Mule Suttles” and I think about him crushing home runs while teammates yelled “Kick Mule!”
I see “Buck O’Neil” and … well, I think about a lot of things. I think about how proud he would feel seeing this Strat-o-Matic set. He might not completely follow the complexities of the game, and he might disagree with some of the numbers because that was his style. He liked to argue about these sorts of things. But I feel sure he would love the spirit of the game. He would love how a game could bring these players back to life. You could steal Cool Papa or pinch run for Frog Redus or plunk Wild Bill Wright. He would love thinking about those kids who would learn about the game by managing the game.
Oh, I have no doubt he would still want people to tell the stories … because the stories are part of the spirit too. But it all really goes together. In 50 or so years before 1947, black players were banned from the Major Leagues. And so, black players created their own leagues. Black newspaper reporters covered those leagues. Black photographers took the photographs. Black baseball fans would head directly from church — wearing their Sunday finest — to watch the games. There were black hotels where the players and entertainers stayed, and black restaurants where they could eat, and black nightclubs for the Saturday nights. It was a whole separate world, and as Buck used to say, It never should have been that way. But it was. Parts of it were tragic, of course. But, he said, parts were beautiful too. The barbecue was great, and the jazz was hopping, and the baseball was something to see.
“We could play, man,” he would say all the time.
On Buck O’Neil’s Strat-o-Matic card, he hit .314. He had pretty good speed. He didn’t hit with much power, but he played a brilliant first base. He didn’t walk a lot, but you could hit and run with him. He would steal a base if you weren’t paying attention. He’d take the extra base if he could — he hit a lot of triples. You know the story about Buck O’Neil’s best day, right? That was the day in Memphis — Easter Sunday — when he hit a double, a home run, single and then in his fourth at-bat he hit one high off the wall, could have been an inside the park homer, but he stopped at third. The cycle. That night, he went back to the hotel, there were a bunch of teachers there. He walked up to one and said, “My name is Buck O’Neil, what’s yours.” That was Ora. They were married 50 years.
“This set,” Hal Richman says, “is the best thing I’ve done in my life.”
* * *
Bottom of the ninth: Satchel Paige pitching. Paige isn’t used to pitching relief after Hilton Smith but that’s how I set it up, and Ol’ Satch gives up a single to Martin Dihigo to lead off the inning. He promptly gives up another single to Ghost Marcelle. Two on, nobody out, tying run comes to the plate in Frog Redus. I looked to see if Frog Redus was in any way related to Gary Redus, one of my favorite players.* Best I can tell, he was not.
*I remember that one year in the early 1980s someone had worked out way to figure out all sorts of crazy baseball stats on the computer. I could be getting this wrong, but as I remember it the person went up to Pete Rose to try to explain the advantages of this sort of information. He said, “For instance, don’t you want to know who had the most flyouts in the league last year?” Pete Rose, without hesitation, said: “I don’t need a computer for that. It was Gary Redus.” Apparently, Rose was right.
Redus grounded out to short — one away — and then Satch struck out Jelly Gardner. Two away. Ballgame is just about over. But then, inexplicably, Satchel Paige walks Willie Wells. Satch was supposed to have the greatest control in baseball history. It was said that he would warm up throwing fastballs over sticks of chewing gum. And he walks Wells? So, bases loaded, two outs and here is Oscar Charleston.
“Here we go!” Chardon Jimmy says, and I’m not happy, and then something even more inexplicable happens. Charleston apparently hits a ball right in front of the plate. An easy play for Biz Mackey, who was known for his defense, whose defensive rating is 1e1, which is just about as good as can be. Only then Mackey … well, I don’t know what happens. He bobbles the ball or something. He commits an error. A run scores. Everyone is safe. Score is 4-2.
Up steps Josh Gibson. This is it — the classic matchup, Paige against Gibson, bases loaded, two outs, bottom of the ninth. I’m tempted to take all my fielders off the field the way Satchel Paige might. But then I remember — I’m actually quite ticked off at Paige. I gave him a 4-1 lead, and he’s blowing it. Enough. Let’s put this game away. He throws his fastball and, yep, Gibson rifles a single up the middle. It is hit so hard that the runner has to stop at third. The score is 4-3 now. Bases loaded. Chardon Jimmy is happy. I’m furious.
“I’m pulling Satchel Paige,” I say. “I’m putting someone else in.”
“Go for it,” Chardon Jimmy says.
But I can’t, of course. I can’t pull Satchel Paige, one of the five greatest pitchers in baseball history. I can’t. I send Buck O’Neil out of the dugout to calm him down. I have to trust in him. Satchel Paige faces Jud Wilson, who is 4-for-4 in the game. Bases loaded. Two outs. Bottom of the ninth. The crowd at Comiskey Park is on its feet. The radio and television announcers are shouting. The hundreds of newspaper reporters are leaning in to get a better look. Wilson digs in. Satchel Paige winds. Satchel Paige pitches.
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Joe
Thanks for this early gift.
Merry Christmas to you and your family.
Suddenly I have the urge to buy Strat-O-Matic*. Great writing, Joe; both this and your Ian and Chrissy Johnson story. Not every day one gets to read two such great stories.
*Or at the very least play OOTP Baseball. But I’m sure it isn’t the same…
The Skyliners got 4 outs in the bottom of the 4th! I assume the Pozmen filed a protest with the league office after the game.
Great post. I’d heard about the the new NeL Strat set, this gives it life and vibrancy for me.
My baseball board game as a kid was Pursue the Pennant (which was great). I have OotP now. It’s like crack, only more addictive. It’s just as well that they don’t have a NeL roster set. If they did, I might never leave the house.
That’s not right, Joe!
Amazing.
Statis Pro Baseball! Bottom of the ninth, a 2-9 on the mound, facing a batter who homers from 34-43. Nothing better.
Z play, fielding, 88. Triple play.
I trust we’ll find out what happens Christmas morning?
I keep reading this…and keep getting stuck on:
“I’m pulling Satchel Paige,” I say. “I’m putting someone else in.”
I’d like to say this sounds like Trey Hilman, but then again, he’s not consistent enough to be able to say that.
On the other hand, I could probably see Todd Haley saying this.
The best pitcher in baseball, and you want to put “someone else” in? Like who? The “player to be named later”?
Who do you think you are? Brad Childress? I’d hate to be in your locker room, Joe, after you pull (or even contemplate pulling) Satch. Good luck.
That Nancy story does bring up an interesting thought: Whenever I think of that story, I think of sly old Satchel sneaking around on his fiancee and find it quite funny. But when I heard that Tiger had been unfaithful, I thought he was a loser who didn’t think the rules applied to him. I don’t know why that is.
Hell I’m not even playing the game and I’m on the edge of my seat!
When I was young I was kind of a stat geek. Without the lack of baseball stats for the Negro Leagues,the inability to compare players like Satchel to players like Walter Johnson, It might have been several years before I really thought about what it was like to be black in the first half of this century.
I had the good fortune of sitting behind Buck at a Royal’s game once, I did not want to bother him, but during a pause in the game I shook his hand and mumbled something flattering and vaguely coherent. Buck started talking, and we talked about baseball for about 5 innings. He not only told great stories, but seemed inerested to hear a couple of mine. It remains one of my favorite baseball experiences. What a great person he was!
Joe,
You are the best sportswriter on the planet. I feel like I owe you something after reading this.
Happy Holidays, friend.
Joe, when I saw the headline I thought “I love baseball, but I don’t know that I want to read 5000 words on Strat-o-Matic.” Now that I’m done, I’d love to see 5000 more. I tell people all the time you’re the best sportswriter in America. Now you’ve proven it once again.
You can’t let Andy Cooper pitch to Chino Smith! The fans demand a Satchel/Chino showdown with the game in the balance.
great post. a real joy to read. thanks, joe.
Great stuff Joe. You are the best.
Merry Christmas!
This was a great read. After reading your Buck O’neil book I wanted more Negro League stories, and after reading this I want even more. Keep up the good work.
Joe,
I loved Strato. Although I haven’t played the game in 25 years, I think I still have my game box from the 70s buried somewhere in a closet.
My best friend was a Reds fan–and I’m a Sox fan. When we were 12 or so, we replayed the ‘75 Series. The Series came down to one at bat, in the 9th inning of the 7th game. Yaz vs. Eastwick. The Sox were down one run with two on. Yaz hit a three run, Series winning homer. Tremendous stuff (and a small consolation for a young Sox fan). I think I still have that box score in the old game box.
I may need to dig out the box after Christmas and play a game or two with my sons.
Joe–Merry Christmas and thank you for the best sports blog on the Net. I put your new book on the Christmas list and hope to be reading it next week.
Mark
Joe, I loved this article. I was referred to it by someone on a Strat-O-Matic forum (for obvious reasons) and am glad I read it!
Joe, you pulled a Sopranos Finale!
Great job. Never were 5,000 words more enjoyable to read.
Brings back all sorts of memories. I used to play SOM as a kid and had the 82-88 seasons, then graduated to the computer game before I got more interested in playing out the future than recreating the past. But no one has really been able to do for that genre what SOM did. I played with those cards so much, I can STILL recite a guy’s stats from a particular year to this day.
Circle me 4256.
Great article. I played APBA instead, but the feelings are the same. A large part of my love for KC arose from replaying late 70’s Royals teams, even though I live in Canada. I still mentally assign players APBA stats, particularily when comparing players.
I sometimes wonder if you can determine a fan’s feeling regarding OBP based on whether they played games like strat-o-matic or APBA. Those guys were gold.
Thanks, Joe.
Social comments and analytics for this post…
This post was mentioned on Twitter by adamjmartin: this is amazing…Negro League rosters for #Strat-O-Matic http://bit.ly/8fCq98 (via @JPosnanski latest blog post http://bit.ly/5aRDBg)...
Joe, thank you for the gift of your thoughts and words, which are shining so brightly here. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you and your family — I look forward to your 2010 missives!
Perfectly done, Poz. Thanks.
Well, I thought about it for a while and the thing is, Joe, I appreciate your gift so much!
I doubt that any other gift that I either give or receive this Christmas will bring me the joy that this did.
Reflective mists aside…only rarely does a writer display a deep innate understanding of a topic of rabid personal interest….sport in your case …in conjunction with the abundant “gift” of explanation and communication in everyman’s terms and language.
I have no memories of strato matic….I am 65 and was lost in the 59 sox when, at the age of 14, I made a conscious choice to stop being a “collector” of sports “stuff”….later to become known as memorabilia. I was to be a jock. Indeed, I have regretted that choice a thousand times through the years.
While I loved being a mildly successful jock, the greater “life” value is in the ability to connect with people in a meaningful, personal way. Those things I frivolously chose to “give up” in pursuit of a perceived higher goal are now held in a perverse, eclectic corner of my brain…….which (now that David Foster Wallace is gone) you and you alone can open at will.
Such is the power of your gift.
Merry Christmas and a joyous holiday season to all.
and thanks again.
Joe,
This is my first time writing a comment, but I just wanted to say thank you for all of the incredible articles. I have been reading for about a year now, and you, like no writer since Dan Jenkins in his Goat Hills golf article, make sports truly come alive. Thank you so much for the moving prose.
They say Joe Posnanski could write a haiku with only twelve syllables. They say he naturally speaks in iambic pentameter. They say he once wrote 11,000 words about Phil Plantier, and it was compelling as all get out.
Merry Christmas, Poz. Thanks.
Great post! Seldom do I read anything that paints images in my mind like this one. Beautiful testament to the art and poetry of the game. Thank you.
I have not played Strat-o-Matic in more years than I want to think about. Time to reorder I think. Thanks for such a great article. Just what I needed on a cold winter day.
This may be my favorite post/column that you’ve ever written. And that’s saying a lot. Happy Holidays.
I’m in the middle of the book Satchel, basically because I liked the Buck book. Thanks.
And Joe nails why we still play strat in our forties…
Don’t finish, despite reader pleadings-leave the results tingling on the edge of imagination and memory, like strat itself.
Doug Glanville tells the Gregg Jefferies story. He knew what the fans were yelling about because he was playing centre field for the Phillies at the time, and being a Strathead, he knew what they were yelling about. And he couldn’t keep from laughing.
Been a Strathead myself for 23 years. One of these years I’ll win my league.
Damn, Joe. You really are the best. This was fantastic. Thanks.
Thanks, Joe. I’ve resisted the sim leagues, although once upon a time I played in a few local fantasy leagues (not the same thing, I know).
But I think I want to try and find a Strat league now.
I’ve got over 300 Strato teams and just ordered the 1957 season. I wanted another good Cardinal team (87-67) and, of course, another good Musial card. Not to mention Mantle and Williams’ great seasons that year.
My first full season recreation was the 1984 NL East. Ozzie Virgil hit 4 HRs in one game for me that year. I’ve never duplicated that feat with any other player. I also recreated a 162 game schedule with the following teams from 1985: Cardinals, Dodgers, Mets, Royals, Yankees & Blue Jays. Being 12, I cheated and started Ricky Horton all year even though he was a relief underlined. He ended up winning 19 games for me.
I’ve still got dozens of notebooks stored away with boxscores and stats in them.
I don’t play all that much anymore but I just can’t stop ordering teams. You’re welcome Hal Richman.
Fabulous article Joe, as always. I’ve been playing Strat since 1965 when I was eight, am currently in my mid-50s and replaying 1924 for a popular online blog which Simkus is also a fan of, and I just had some of the ‘24 Negro leaguers “take over” for the white Phillies for a week. Needless to say, they kicked unholy butt. For anyone interested: http://1924andyouarethere.blogspot.com
Joe,
Unbelievable piece of writing. Thank you.
Just wondering — have you ever read The Universal Baseball Association by Robert Coover? A bachelor accountant designs his own dice-based Strat-o-matic-style baseball game, and it takes over his life. There are moments in your piece that if I didn’t know any better I’d assume were winking references to the book. You’ve probably written 5,000 words or more about it; I should search the archive.
Thanks again for doing what you do.
Matt
#40
That is a surprisingly depressing book.
The Satchel Nancy story had me in tears I was laughing so hard.
[...] Joe Posnanski » Blog Archive » 5000 Words on Strat-o-Matic Visited 1 times I remember that story because my friend Buck O‘Neil told it to me somewhere along the way. Buck died more than three years ago now, and I’ll bet that I have never gone more than two or three days without thinking about some advice he … [...] [...]
this is the best thing i’ve read in quite a while. thank you.
Matt LaForge #40 — Wonderful book, great reference to Joe’s article, and thanks for reminding me of it. I think I will re-read over my Xmas break.
G #41 — And thanks for reminding about that part, too.
Joe, incredible read. thank you
As a former Strat player, I salute you.
As a lover of great writing, I admire you.
What a fantastic piece Joe.
Happy Holidays!
When I was in college, we had a stratomatic football league. We’d take a team, and then we’d draft players from the teams that didn’t get taken to make up for the holes. This was in the early 80’s, when Tampa had a great defense but no running backs and no receivers. So I took Tampa and drafter Freeman McNeill and Cliff Branch, combined them with strong armed Doug Williams and won the league with them.
To this day, I can’t look at those players the same way. When I didn’t know what to do, back then, I’d simply call, “F*** it. Bomb to Branch.” Now, when faced with a decision and I decide to just go for it, I have been known to mutter, “F*** it. Bomb to Branch.”
Thank you. This was a wonderful piece about stratomatic, and about the Negro Leagues. Merry Christmas.
Thank you. Loved this post.
I had a Strat-O-Matic for years that I received as a gift from Charlie Gibson(yes, THAT Charlie Gibson) when he was the local news anchor back in the late 60’s(my father was the sports anchor). I spent many an hour replaying the 1967 season, before I was seduced by APBA. I have the feeling that if I still had that same game some 40 years later, I’d be playing it, ratty-looking game board and all.
5,000 words, just the right length.
I am a Diamond Mind guys now (I travel for work, and can play against the computer), but I miss the dice and cards of Strat.
And, I miss Buck O’Neil, and hate that he’s not in the Hall of Fame.
This was a Christmas gift. Thank you, Joe
Thank you, Joe. Thank you.
Makes me wish I had bought all of my family “The Soul of Baseball” for Christmas this year.
For the second time.
I recommend Stratomatic on The Sporting News Site…..You can play the negro Leaguers and about 3700 other cards….
If any of you would like to try playing SOM its only available at http://www.sportingnews.com. for online play .Been playing there for years. All Time Greats 5 was just released and it includes 108 Negro Leaguers. Ruth being whiffed by Paige. Gehrig drives in Charleston. Check it out and check out the message boards for incite.
Here’s a line you could have used if Satchel coughed up the lead: I had a commitment to his heart.” Johnny Keane said it about Bob Gibson after Game 7 of the 1964 World Series, but memory tells me LaSorda also said it after leaving in Fernando in a big game.
Also, the unimpeachable Wikipedia states in its article about Strat that “despite their loyal fan base, such games are seeing their popularity decline in the face of electronic games’ increasing popularity and sophistication.” Looking at some of the resolve in the comments, maybe your post couldn’t have come at a better time…
well I read it but I am not sure why… My son is a strato freek….
Chills. Absolute chills after reading this. What a great story and the ending – wow! Poz, you are unique.
Wow…
Fantastic! Christmas comes early for readers of Joe’s Blog!
You captured the way we played the game in the 70s. The players came to life, you really had a handle on their game. (Or lack thereof.)
‘Ceptin’ that the worst fielders were 4s. At least back then. And we were ahead of the curve on the value of OBP. I remember my best hitter in 1973 was Hank Aaron: 40 taters in 392 ab. (.301/.402/.643. 177 ops+) Not a top draft pick at the time, but lookin’ at the numbers now, I know why.
We were brutal on the underachievers as well. Everyone who played had their own style of commentary. Color men.
After re-reading “I Had A Hammer” recently, signed by Hank and a proud possession, I’m again interested in the Negro Leagues and could get into playing Strat-o-matic again. Or I could grow up.
[...] been tempted to buy a version of it in the past. Reading Joe Posnanski’s most recent article about the Negro League version of the game, though, makes me want to play the game immediately; [...]
In my view An enterprising person is one who comes across a pile of scrap metal and sees the making of a wonderful sculpture. An enterprising person is one who drives through an old decrepit part of town and sees a new housing development. An enterprising person is one who sees opportunity in all areas of life. To be enterprising is to keep your eyes open and your mind active. It’s to be skilled enough, confident enough, creative enough and disciplined enough to seize opportunities that present themselves… regardless of the economy.
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Played the entire 1980 season when I was a kid. My personal highlight-Freddie Martinez of the Angels pitched a no-hitter for 8 and 2/3 against the royals. George Brett 1980, the best Strat-o card of that generation, doubled. I was playing both teams, and wanted to do that ab over so bad. I think I sat ther for 20 minutes before I marked down the double.
Thank you for this great story, as well as all of your writings. They are wonderful to read. Merry Xmas to you and your family.
I never played SOM but I was introduced to APBA baseball in college and was amazed. I loved baseball and boxscores and stats and had no idea such a game existed. I quickly bought the cards to past seasons and each following season for years. I am now 58 and still have all the cards and boards and dice. I have them set up on a spare table in my den and I will still play the occasional series between the 61 Yankees and 75 Reds or the all-time Tigers against the all-time Cardinals. There is still a sense of excitement at seeing double 6s come up late in the game.
Ah Strato…for 2 years you ruled my life. If any of my other league owners ever read this, Gary, Tom, or Jim…those were glorious years. And Jim Rooker, from the 69 Royals, the best pinch hitter ever! He got a lot more at-bats in our league than he did in KC that year. But if you needed a homer, Jim was your guy!
Joe! You wasted a great article on your blog! Reprint it in SI and get paid for it! Merry Christmas!
Dude, you’re awesome. How in the world do you find time to write all this stuff? And write it so well? Do you have secret JoePills that just ignite the words in your brain? Do you work on these for years at a time, perfecting them and perfecting them and perfecting them? Or — the only truly logical explanation — do you really write in your sleep?
You are impressive. But then, you probably already know that.
Used to be I, as a young writer, wanted to emulate Reilly. Now it’s you. Thanks for being a great writer.
Thanks, Joe. Wonderful article. I never played Strat, but I picked up APBA as a teenager. I’ve since moved on to Diamond Mind baseball on the computer, but I do miss those cards and dice. I’m currently replaying 1967 (Gary Geiger has only 1 HR – off Steve Carlton).
Simkus said it best: “You can read about something, but when you play a GAME, it can mean something entirely new …”
A Second Time through the Order – 1967
Unbelievable….No one can stir up my inner 12 year old like Joe Posnanski.
Today I think of playing APBA baseball and football with my brothers and dad for countless hours over Christmas break. I know mom still has those games at home somewhere…
I think I need to call my patient Bob Moxley soon and get my dad a private tour of the Negro Leagues Museum…
Merry Christmas to all of the little boys at heart who Joe invigorated with this article. I miss his frequency in my morning KC Star, but SI.com is only a click away…..
FROM 10 YRS OLD UNTIL ABOUT 17 I PLAYED IN NUMEROUS “STRATO” LEAGUES. I WON THE TITLE ONCE WITH A 14TH INNING BASEHIT BY BIFF POCAROBA. SIMPLY AMAZING!!
AxDxMx (#67), it’s there:
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2009/writers/joe_posnanski/12/23/negro.league.strato/index.html?eref=sihp
From 14 to about 24 I played Statis-Pro, Strat-O-Matic, APBA, Sherco and Pursue the Pennant.
Still have most of them in boxes out in shed. Alas, my sons don’t seem too interested in them.
I played a few computer simulations in the 1990s, but they just weren’t as satisfying as boards, player cards and dice.
Joe,
What a fantastic read. I played Strat as a kid and only picked it back up when my son showed interest about 5 yrs ago. I’m getting the NeL set for Christmas, along with the 2000 Hall of Fame set and I’m sure it will bring me and my son much enjoyment.
Thank you for painting such a beautiful picture. I’ve gotta tell you, I haven’t read your blog yet but was pointed here by a strat fan forum site and I’ll be sure to be a frequent reader.
I’ve always had a hard time explaining exactly why I have loved baseball and loved to play baseball sims to my wife. Oh, she knows the stories about my father making sure I stayed up to watch the game sevens in 75 (3 years old) and 86 (yup, Sox lifer). She knows that when she called my family home in 2004 all she got was the sounds of what seemed to be grown men sobbing and screaming. But after reading this, I think she gets it. Thank you for another well written piece. And Happy Holidays.
What we have here is an aesthetic…There was nothing better than the feeling of Christmas II, the Day We Got Our Strat-O Cards…In ‘88 they came like Feb 2, an outrageously early date ..I’d actually been to Richfield (I’m a Clevelander) to see Pistons-Cavs and I get back home and there it is…Manna…I placed the urgent calls to all points with this simple message…”Christmas!!! Christmas!!! This is NOT a drill! This is NOT a drill!” and of course it was the outrageous (at the time) 1987 season cards which meant that we we at Denny’s until 6 in the morning (had to work at 9) with the lads kicking it.
Aesthetic..The 1984 Ryne Sandberg card vs the lefty
1-5 HOMERUN
1-9 TRIPLE
1-7 was the double-single split.
I’ve ordered the Negro League set in the last half hour, and am stoked!
Joe, Great article, I’ve really enjoyed your stories in SI as well. I played Strat briefly, but became an APBA man in 1977 (got my first set the day Seaver was traded, so I moved him to the Reds’ envelope), and have played in a LI FTF league since ‘92. These games definitely make you notice the nuances of baseball more; in the World Series, when the Phillies brought in a lefty to face Matsui, I’d say, “No, he hits lefties just as well!” And when I keep score at a game, sometimes I accidentally add their fielding rating.
Joe- I’ve always wondered what it was like to read Jim Murray or Red Smith in their prime. Now I know. Thanks
GREAT STORY, TOO BAD YOU RAN OUT
OF WORDS. MAYBE YOU CAN GET DUTTON TO GET RID OF HIS APBA CRAP.
MAYBE SOMEDAY I’LL TELL YOU ABOUT THE 1930 MAJOR LEAGUE-NEGRO LEAGUE ALL-STAT GAME.
[...] Joe Posnanski » Blog Archive » 5000 Words On Strat-o-Matic(3) The Negro Leagues were built around speed, and as such pitchers spent a lot of effort keeping runners close* and catchers like Biz Mackey, Josh Gibson, Frank Duncan and others… [...]