“Ted Williams and the 1969 Senators, the Last Winning Season”

Ted Leavengood

ISBN 978-0-7864-4136-5
8 photos, charts, appendices, notes, bibliography, index
softcover 2009
$29.95

Available February 24, 2009 from McFarland Publishing.

Chapter One—War, Race and Baseball

The expansion Washington Senators struggled throughout the 1960’s to gain a foothold in the first division of the American League. Fans thought the team in 1968 had a chance, but the wheels fell off the cart once again and the team finished dead last. That year was a particularly bleak one for Washington, DC as the city was wracked by race riots that left wide swaths of the city burnt and smoldering after the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr. Attendance plummeted as fans worried about safety in the area around RFK Stadium. Fans heard a familiar ring in worries about the team. It sounded so much like Calvin Griffith’s successful relocation of the original Senators in 1960. Many believed the team might be headed out of town once again.

Writers and pundits opined that perhaps Washington, DC was just a “sleepy southern town” unable to support baseball. Washington’s distinctive character was a complex equation. What was so essentially southern about DC was its large African American population. The size of the city’s minority population greatly exceeded that of any major league city for every census taken after the Civil War. War shaped the city and its economy after 1865. In the 1960’s the Vietnam War—one of the bitterest ever fought by the US–was casting a pall over it as well

The once proud Senators tradition of Walter Johnson and the 1924 World Champions was thin and faded by 1969. The last great Senators team had been the American League Champs in 1933. But in 1934 Joe Cronin was sold by Clark Griffith to the Red Sox. The Senators could never shake off the funk the Depression-era Senators sank into.

In 1960 Calvin Griffith escaped to Minnesota with the best Senators team in decades and DC fans had to watch the Twins—powered by many of the same players who had been local heroes in 1960—clinch the pennant at RFK Stadium in 1965. The table was tilted against Washington, DC and its baseball team, but no one talked openly about why.

Chapter Two—Can’t You Hear that Rooster Crowing

Baseball was changing as it entered into the 1969 season. The Baseball Rules Committee shrank the strike zone and reduced the pitching mound by five inches to even the struggle between pitcher and hitter. Games had become “dull and… lacking in excitement,” according to Jerome Holtzman and other writers. The changes were supposed to end the reign of dominating pitchers like Bob Gibson and Denny McClain.

The game was looking for excitement and Washington found it in three engaging personalities who arrived at the beginning of 1969 and seemed ready to shake it to its roots. President Richard Nixon was inaugurated in January and shortly thereafter newly named Senators Owner Bob Short announced his manager would be legendary Boston Red Sox hitter, Ted Williams. When Short bought the team every writer in town recalled what he had done in Minneapolis, moving the Lakers to Los Angeles three years after buying the team. Yet the naming of Williams took the focus off of Short and his intentions and shifted it to the biggest living legend in the game—outside of Joe DiMaggio perhaps.

Ted Williams and his classic swing

Teddy Ballgame became an immediate Washington celebrity and instantly pumped new life into the franchise. Richard Nixon, the new president, became the “No. 1 Fan.” Ted Williams promised new possibilities for a city that had almost given up on its baseball team. He had his work cut out for him, however. The Senators as a team had hit only .224 and as bad as the offense was, the pitching was worse.

Williams had always said he did not want to manage, but Short sold him on the Senators because expectations were so low. As the team assembled in Florida for spring training, few believed that even Ted Williams could make a difference. Many writers contended that Williams was singularly unfit to manage and that he would be gone by June.

Chapter Three—Shine Your Light on Me

Spring Training in 1969 introduced Frank Howard, Mike Epstein, Eddie Brinkman and others to their new manager. It was the beginning of a lifelong friendship for many, but regardless whether they liked Williams, he was an intense tutor determined to make a difference in the Senators’ approach at the plate. There was never enough batting practice for Williams and the Senators took advantage of the opportunity.

He sought to teach every hitter to be more selective. “Get a good pitch to hit, bush,” was the mantra from the dugout all that spring. Williams took Frank Howard aside and asked him “How can a guy hit 44 home runs, and only get 48 base-on-balls?” He taught Howard that he did not have to swing at every fast ball he saw and told him that just because a pitch was a strike, he did not have to swing at it. He taught little Eddie Brinkman a new mental approach after he hit only .229 in 1968. He took Mike Epstein from a raw rookie with amazing power and taught him the fundamentals, ones Epstein teaches to this day.

It was a slow process and most believed that Williams would tire of it, yet he remained engaged, working slowly with his charges and making progress that no one saw at first. But they noticed him there every day around the cage talking and teaching. Careful observers saw an energetic manager always hanging on the batting cage in Florida. Some began to think Williams might be able to handle the new job better than the line of fishing rods he had been pushing for Sears.

Chapter Four—Going Where the Sun Keeps Shining

Spring Training was the first evidence of a new team that was emerging. The statistical analysis of the change in the Senators’ hitters shows a remarkable turnaround. Many have written about the rise in batting averages for the team as a whole and the individual players, but the more notable difference appeared in every hitter’s on-base-percentage. The change Ted Williams achieved—noteworthy for the short time it took–was in the more patient approach at the plate.

The changes Williams was pushing fit remarkably well within the new baseball rules. With umpires calling a new strike zone, the Senators were being taught to take a strike. What was more surprising was the effect the same lessons had on the Senators’ pitchers. When many pitchers were struggling to adapt to the new mound and umpires who would call strikes more tightly, Senators pitchers were listening to the admonitions of Ted Williams. If the hitters could win by looking at more pitches, maybe they should focus on throwing more strikes.

Statistical analysis of the Senators’ pitching staff shows the same remarkable changes. He took the worst staff in the American League and made it respectable. While the overall AL ERA went up, the Senators’ ERA went down. Of the twelve AL teams in 1969, the Senators were fifth best in the league. Despite losing his best pitcher in Camilo Pascual early in the year, Williams crafted a successful rotation from what he had. He revamped the staff drawing on the strengths he had—a deep bullpen that featured included Darold Knowles, Dennis Higgins, and Casey Cox. It was a departure from the conventional wisdom of the day, but Williams made it work.

Chapter Five—Do You Want to Know a Secret

Richard Nixon and Bowie Kuhn were in Washington to throw out the first pitch of the 1969 season. Ted Williams stood nearby grinning and he had every reason to be happy.

Richard Nixon’s first pitch lofted high into the air

He had proven the critics wrong and was starting out the season confident in his new team. The Washington Senators got off to a good start and Frank Howard got off to an even better one. Howard hit a homer in the opener to delight the president and he kept on hitting them throughout April.

Howard’s career started in Los Angeles where he helped the Dodgers to a World Series win in 1963. But Walter Alston and Buzzie Bavazi never truly believed in their over-sized star, and he could not break into the lineup as an everyday player. Rather than platoon, Howard sought a trade and the Dodgers found a perfect place for him—the cellar-dwelling Senators–where he could not hurt them if he reached the tremendous potential they could not tap.

Frank Howard had four home runs in his first three games of the 1969 season. It was the beginning of his best year in the game and it cemented a love affair between Howard and Washington baseball fans that continues to this day.

Chapters Six – Eleven

Writers predicted the team would sink like they had in 1968, but it did not happen. Everywhere the team went, new manager Ted Williams was welcomed like a conquering hero. In New York City Simon and Garfunkel opened the game. In Boston there was what Dick Bosman called a “World Series atmosphere” for the return of the Boston’s greatest player ever. For Williams, who had been away from the game for more than eight years, the return was especially gratifying.

The most amazing return was when the team returned from a long road trip with a winning record in June. More than 1,500 fans were at the airport to greet them. Baseball was resurgent in Washington and it demonstrated the latent fan base for the game in DC, even as Bob Short was asserting for all to hear that there just wasn’t enough attendance at games to make it work financially.

Ardent Senators fans had plenty to cheer about. There was always Hondo, but there were many new heroes as well.

Mike Epstein hit his third homer and was smiling ear to ear

Mike Epstein hit two homers in Chicago to convince his new manager that he was for real. Dick Bosman began to emerge as the staff ace and Joe Coleman was showing huge promise. Darold Knowles came out of the Air Force to provide an important lift out of the bullpen. One of the most popular players on the team was Eddie Brinkman who has having the season of his life. Del Unser, and Ken McMullen were providing important support for Epstein and Howard.
But the bullpen of Casey Cox, Dennis Higgins and Jim Shellenback were pitching a lot of innings and getting the ball to Knowles to close out the wins. An important new name came into his own in 1969, Reggie Jackson. He was hitting home runs as far and as often as Frank Howard. They were locked in a home run race that stretched through the early months and pointed toward the All-Star Game.

Joe Coleman’s huge potential first emerged in 1969

Ted Williams had his own rivalry form with another rookie manager, Billy Martin of the Twins. Martin was everything Williams was not. He played the game with the same scrappy grit that he did everything. He resented Ted Williams who he saw as someone who never worked hard on the field. When Williams went to Minnesota for the first series Martin’s comments in the press insulted Williams, calling him “one of the worst players I ever saw.”

The two managers had one thing in common, the use of video tape to teach hitting and pitching at a time when few others were using new technologies. Williams not only was one of the earliest to emphasize the importance of selectivity at the plate, but also used the video technology to help his players achieve it. Martin was using some of the same ideas, but he had the better team. Achieving success with the Twins was the expectation, whereas Williams finding it with the Senators–that was news.

Chapter Twelve—Moondance

1969 was a year rich in history of all sorts, but the first successful landing on the moon was a high point. The Apollo 11 rocket was set to go up in late July at the same time as the All-Star Game was played. The build up to both events in the newspapers made for compelling stories. Against the backdrop of a singular achievement for mankind, The Sporting News was publishing its list of “Best Players Ever” for each Major League team.

The announcement of the ‘best Senators ever’ drew out the most ardent fans who could argue about baseball into the wee hours. But the dearth of Hall of Fame caliber heroes was notable. There was Walter Johnson, Sam Rice, Goose Goslin, and Heinie Manush and a great supporting cast, but the face of Washington baseball was “Big Train, especially after the loss of Clark Griffith.

The baseball establishment was using the Best Player voting to generate support for the 1969 All-Star Game to be played at RFK Stadium in Washington, DC. The starting lineup of best players ever was to be announced at a gala event at the Omni Hotel. President Nixon had invited all of the attendees to a White House dinner the night before. New commissioner Bowie Kuhn was staking his reputation on the success of the event and its ability to pump new life into the game.

Chapter Thirteen—Build a Ladder to the Stars

The All-Star Game in 1969 provided a unique opportunity to judge how well baseball’s rules changes had generated new offense. The All-Star games in the 1960’s had come to define all the things wrong about the game. There had been only seven runs scored in the three All-Star games leading up to the 1969 contest. The most boring of all was the 1968 contest decided by a score of 1-0 when Willie Mays scored a hustle run. It was just another lifeless win by the National League that had come to dominate the contest over the AL.

Writers David Halberstam and Shirley Povich explained the disparities between the AL and NL in the most persuasive terms. The American League had been dominated by the Yankees for much of the decade and George Weiss, their owner, was like many others in the AL who had fought against racial integration. The success of the civil rights struggle in the late 1950’s and 1960’s was the greatest achievement of the era and it played itself out slowly in the game of baseball. Teams in the National League, led by Branch Rickey in Brooklyn during the 1950’s and then by the St. Louis Cardinals in the 1960’s had captured the best of the old Negro League ballplayers and the rosters of teams in the NL showcased the best African American talent. The contrast with the AL was striking.

Willie Mays, Hank Aaron, Bob Gibson, Lou Brock, and Ernie Banks had been NL All-Stars throughout the decade and provided the backbone of the great NL teams that always found a way to beat the AL. The Washington Senators were philosophically fixed within the AL. They chose not to blaze the trail although Clark Griffith provided a home field to one of the two great Negro League teams, the Homestead Grays led by Josh Gibson and Buck Leonard, just to name two. It was argued that Gibson was the best hitter to ever play the game other than Ruth, but Griffith used the revenues from the Grays games in DC to keep his empire afloat. Integration would have only killed the goose.

Washington was one of the most southern towns in baseball, but St. Louis provided a great comparison to what baseball might have been like under more visionary leadership. The Cardinals marketed their team to the Deep South. KMOX broadcast its powerful signal to Texas, Arkansas, Mississippi and other southern states. Despite the segregationist leanings of that fan base, the Cardinals led the way in integrating spring training facilities in the early 1960’s and the race-neutral camaraderie of the Bob Gibson-Tim McCarver teams became legendary. The failure of Washington to seek out its own African American stars during the era was one reason the team floundered.

The 1969 All-Star Game and the festivities around it showcased the Senators’ new manager Ted Williams. Frank Howard and Darold Knowles represented the team on the squad. Williams was voted the “Greatest Living Hitter,” but refused to attend the dinner at the Shoreham Hotel—where he lived—because Joe DiMaggio was named the “Greatest Living Player.” The final score of the game itself was 9-3 and the fireworks proved that the new rules were working.

Chapters 14 – 17

The American League also trailed the National League in attendance during the 1960’s. But the problem wasn’t just the more exciting game played by the “Senior Circuit,” with a far more developed running game led by Maury Wills and Lou Brock. The cities in the National League were generally larger and richer because their owners were not only more progressive on racial issues, but also were the first to take advantage of new markets in California. As a result the NL owned the richest territory and it showed in attendance figures.

The move by the Dodgers and Giants carved up the fastest growing population centers in California. The AL settled for second best in places like Oakland and Anaheim years after the NL had created loyal fan followings in those areas. The NL moved the first franchise into Texas while the NL settled for Kansas City and Minnesota. Although concerns about low attendance were being used by Bob Short to trash the fan base in Washington, the problem was more complex than he wanted to admit.

Shirley Povich pointed out that the issue wasn’t just DC, it was the whole of the American League where attendance lagged. Attendance for the Senators in 1969 was at its highest point since expansion in 1961. A winning team brought out fans but Bob Short’s complaints never quit.

The problem in Washington was also the Redskins. The rivalry between professional football and baseball was no where keener than in DC. Even with the best baseball team playing at RFK in decades, new Redskins’ coach Vince Lombardi was bringing the same celebrity to the Redskins that Ted Williams imported to the Senators. The two men shared adjoining locker rooms and the baseball players could hear the speeches of Lombardi before game days.

Chapter Eighteen—For Now’s the Time for Your Tears

The Senators finished the season ten games above .500 with a strong September. But they were over-shadowed by a bigger story at the end of the 1969 season. That fall belonged to the “Amazin’ Mets.” They won the NL and beat the Orioles in the World Series. Ted Williams left town after the Series, but left with Bob Short a list of recommendations about personnel moves that would help create a better team in 1970. Short began a run of bad moves that left many wondering if they were intentional. Not only did he ignore the only good baseball mind he had in the organization—Ted Williams—but many wondered later if he really was trying to improve the team or scuttle it.

Ted Williams won Manger of the Year for the 1969 season at the end of the year, but it was the last highlight of a managerial career that was in freefall for the next few years. The Senators never again fielded a winning team.

Dick Bosman led the A.L. in ERA in 1969

Frank Howard and Dick Bosman were the only stars from the ‘69 team left over when they took the field in 1971. That season was mired in controversy as Curt Flood came to town to complement the rancor and divisiveness that Denny McLain had brought. By mid-season Bob Short was talking about pulling up stakes or selling out.

His manipulation of the other owners leading up to the final move of the team are hard to believe for those outside of baseball who have not seen the system gamed by arrogant owners and commissioners over the course of its history. But Bob Short pried baseball from the roots of a founding American League location. He did so by less than honorable means, but he had plenty of help from other owners like Calvin Griffith.

Neither the economic nor logical explanations given at the time pass muster upon re-examination. The sad story of baseball’s demise in DC is one that broke the hearts of fans for three decades. Baseball as an economic venture was on the rise behind its new offensive surge. But that new success would not be enjoyed in Washington–the Nation’s capital.

The Epilogue analyzes the new ownership group and compares them to those that came before. It holds out hope for the future of a team that once commanded the heights and even beat the Damn Yankees.