Sportswriter Who Punched Sam McDowell

Bob Dolgan

Description

When he retired in 2006, Bob Dolgan had been a sportswriter for forty-five years at the Cleveland Plain Dealer. Known for his unique perspectives on sports figures, Dolgan's style, instincts, and experience as a reporter were evident in his columns that were beloved by his readers and admired by his colleagues.Highlighting Dolgan's writing at its best, The Sportswriter Who Punched Sam McDowell is a collection of over 100 of Dolgan's columns that focuses on historic events and individual achievements in the Cleveland sports scene. Included are columns eulogizing longtime Cleveland sportscaster Bob Neal, commemorating the 100th anniversary of baseball player Napoleon Lajoie's first game for Cleveland, celebrating the famed Bob Feller's 85th birthday, memorializing the 35th anniversary of Jim Brown's finest day in football as he rushed for 237 yards for the Cleveland Browns, and describing the firing of Browns quarterback Bernie Kosar by owner Art Modell and coach Bill Belichick. Also included are a treatise on "pitch counts" and a look at whether Shoeless Joe Jackson (who played in Cleveland for six seasons prior to being traded to Chicago) was guilty of fixing the 1919 World Series against Cincinnati.As one of the "deans" of Cleveland sports writing, Dolgan's skills and expertise shine through in his columns, and his style is instantly recognizable to any longtime fan. Using simple and straightforward prose, he offers a perspective that is appealing and uniquely his own. Cleveland sports fans and lovers of good sports writing alike will delight in The Sportswriter Who Punched Sam McDowell.

Sujets

• Béisbol
• USA
• History of sport
• États-Unis
• Ohio
• Baseball

Informations

• Publié par: The Kent State University Press
• Date de parution: 13 janvier 2015
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781631011023
• Langue: English

Extrait

The Sportswriter Who Punched Sam McDowell
The
Sportswriter
Who Punched
Sam McDowell

And Other Sports Stories
BOB DOLGAN
The Kent State University Press
Kent, Ohio
© 2010 by The Kent State University Press, Kent, Ohio 44242
A LL RIGHTS RESERVED
ISBN 978-1-60635-044-7
Manufactured in the United States of America
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data are available at the Library of Congress.
British Library Cataloging-in-Publication data are available.
14   13   12   11   10         5   4   3   2   1
For Kate Will and Sonja
Contents
1 THE FIGHT
Sam McDowell and Bob Dolgan
2 PENCILS AND VOICES
Hal Lebovitz
Gordon Cobbledick
Chuck Heaton
Howard Cosell
Gib Shanley
Harry Jones
Jack Graney
Dennis Lustig
Ed Chay
Nev Chandler
Bob Neal
Pete Franklin
Walter Winchell
3 THE OLD NEIGHBORHOOD
Stosh Loves Molly
Casimir Never Said Good-bye
The Fastest Runner on E. 61st Street
Lefty Could Play
Cedric on the Corner
The School Yard
The Balinca Players
Momma Was the Boss
Bruno Wouldn’t Quit
Remembering Snow
Black and White
The Old Saloon
4 THE NATURALS
Napoleon Lajoie
1926 MVP, George Burns
Mrs. George Uhle
Lou Boudreau, Cleveland’s Idol
Joe Gordon
Eddie Robinson
Al Rosen Almost Wins Triple Crown
Larry Doby
Mel Harder
Bob Feller Turns 85
Jimmie Foxx
Lou Gehrig
Ted Williams
Babe Ruth
5 FOOTBALL LEGENDS
Otto Graham, Greatest Brown
Jim Brown Ties Record
Benny Friedman
Gene Hickerson
Greg Pruitt
Frank Ryan
Dub Jones Scores Six Touchdowns
Mickey McBride, Browns Founder
Brian Sipe’s Farewell
Sipe the Surfer
Kosar Arrives
Kosar Sacked
Comedians
6 FIRSTS
Stadium’s Opening Game
Cleveland Rams Debut
Browns Dynasty Kickoff
Browns Shock NFL
Browns Win Three in a Week
7 NEVER TO BE FORGOTTEN
Joss Wins over Walsh
Game for the Ages
Terminal Tower Throws
Keltner Stops DiMaggio
The Crybabies
Giebell Beats Feller
Feller Comes Marching Home
Black Cat Jinxes Lopat
Luplow’s Catch
Tito Francona’s Hot Bat
Kindall’s Big Weekend
Barker’s Perfect
Sleeping Giant Stirs
Summerall’s Kick
Football Fever Hits Cleveland
The Drive
Rose Beats Cobb
8 TRAGEDIES
Little Lake Nellie
Ed Delahanty
Boxer Frankie Crawford
Johnny Temple
9 CHAMPIONS
1920 Indians
Browns Win First NFL Title
Fabulous 1954
1964 Browns, the Last Champs
10 MAGICAL 1948
Record Gate
Low Point
Stretch Run
Boudreau’s Mystery Train
1948 World Series
11 BASKETBALL
Arena Doubleheaders
Argento Scores 66
Miracle of Richfield
Hank Luisetti
Wonderful World
The Shot
12 CONTROVERSIES
Indians Name Off Base
Lavelli’s Crusade
Pitch Counts
Was Shoeless Joe Guilty?
Blanton’s Beef
Tris and Ty’s Caper
School Days
13 REFLECTIONS
I Have a Dream
Old Timer’s Lament
Good-bye to the Stadium
Glad You Asked
Closing Day
Who Was Better?
Faded Glory, League Park
Confessions of a Baseball Addict
14 LEST WE FORGET
Sonja Henie
Chuck Vinci, Olympic Two-Timer
Sugar Ray and Artie Levine
Golden Gloves
Jim Brown vs. Franco
1
The Fight
SAM MCDOWELL AND BOB DOLGAN
June 15, 1971
I got a kick out of wily boxing promoter Don Elbaum’s attempt to put Sam McDowell and Gene Michael, two baseball players, into the ring.
They would be as out of place as Leo Gorcey and Huntz Hall, the Dead End Kids, debating at the United Nations.
McDowell is a wonderful pitcher and probably will be installed in the Baseball Hall of Fame one day, but as a boxer his courage far exceeds his ability.
I know whereof I speak, having taken a split decision over Sudden Sam long ago. It is the only fight I have ever won, and if this column infuriates the pitcher to the point where he demands a rematch I’ll hop a plane to Timbuktu. I plan to retire undefeated.
I recount the episode because you never hear of newspapermen punching athletes. It’s always the other way around. Cincinnati sage Earl Lawson holds the record, having been belted by both Johnny Temple and Vada Pinson. Braven Dyer of Los Angeles got it from Bo Belinsky, and, to go way back, Bobo Newsom trimmed Robert Ruark, a syndicated writer. There have been other cases.
It is ironic that the gods selected a pushover such as myself to uphold journalistic honor.
It happened in April 1965, in a Cleveland bistro, Downstairs East, which was located in the Park Lane Villa Hotel, near East 105th and Chester Avenue. It was a mecca for the sporting crowd at the time. When I walked in, the proprietor, Gene Pace, told me, “Your buddy’s in the back, shooting pool.” He was referring to McDowell.
I was glad to hear it for I hadn’t seen Sam in a year and a half, since I parted company with the Plain Dealer and became a publicist at Thistledown racetrack. I thought we would have a nice reunion. I had covered McDowell in his early years with the Indians, and we had been about as friendly as an athlete and sportswriter, two natural enemies, can be. We were big league rookies together. In fact, I had nicknamed him.
That happened on March 13, 1961, when McDowell made his first pitching appearance in a spring training game. He was only 18 and had received a bonus of about $60,000, huge money then, to sign with the Indians. He was the most interesting newcomer in camp. Everyone was intrigued with his potential because of his burning fastball.
As the Plain Dealer ’s new beat writer, I felt I had to commemorate McDowell’s baptism into big league ball by giving him a nickname. I went into a trance in the pressbox and the words “Sudden Sam” appeared on my typewriter paper. It stuck. I was thrilled when all the other writers began using it.
Baseball historian Bill James later praised it as one of his favorite sobriquets. “The best nickname of the 1960s was Sudden Sam,” he wrote. “It was very original, sounded good and worked well in print or voice.”
That didn’t mean anything to Sam on the day of our fight. He must have been harboring some old grudge, for when he entered the bar and saw me he immediately began berating me. He accused me of writing critically of him when I was on the beat. I was shocked and answered back. There were about 20 people in the establishment, listening to our loud voices. Sam and I were about 10 feet apart, separated by a corner of the bar. The last thing on my mind was a fight.
The words kept getting hotter and suddenly there was six feet, five inches of enraged young pitcher bounding toward me with nostrils flaring. He was three inches taller than me and, at 22, ten years younger. I wanted to run but there was nowhere to go. He lunged at me as though he wanted to wrestle me to the floor.
Remembering the way John Wayne did it in the movies, I closed my eyes and threw two right-hand punches, which landed in McDowell’s face before he ever touched me.
Sudden Sam’s charge was repelled. He kind of staggered a little, and then there were Pace and a couple of customers frantically holding him at bay. Nobody had to hold me back. McDowell wasn’t through. He went back to his seat at the bar and said, “Give Bob a drink.” He must have been watching the same Western movies I was. Everybody in the place was quiet.
“Bob and I know what we have to do,” McDowell said. He might have known, but I sure didn’t.
“Bob, I’ll meet you in the parking lot,” he said, going out the back door. Exercising my instinct for self-preservation, I went out the front door, got into my car, and drove away. I didn’t see him again for a few years. He was friendly. We never talked about our confrontation, except that I once asked him if he minded if I ever wrote about it. He said he did not mind.
There is a postscript to the story. About five years later, after I had returned to the Plain Dealer , I was pinched for a minor traffic violation downtown. The policeman asked for my driver’s license. When he looked at it, he asked me if I was the Plain Dealer sportswriter. I confessed I was. “Well, you can go this time,” he said. “But be more careful.”
“Thanks, officer,” I said. “Do you read my articles in the paper?”
“It’s not that,” he said. “I was in the bar the night you had the fight with McDowell.”
Publicity-wise promoter Elbaum sent McDowell and Michael contracts in which they were supposed to fight four rounds, with $5,000 going to the winner and $2,000 to the loser. Both ballplayers immediately accepted. “I’ll fight anybody for $5,000,” McDowell said. The players had squared off during a game in May 1971 when McDowell slid hard into shortstop Michael at second base. The fight never came off because the Indians and Yankees refused to let their players participate. McDowell pitched in the major leagues from 1961 to 1973, mostly with the Indians. He led the American League in strikeouts five times and won 20 games in 1970. He was named to the All Star team six times. After he retired, he became an alcohol and drug counselor for several big league clubs. He is not in the Hall of Fame.
I told this story twice in the Plain Dealer , in 1971 and thirty years later, in 2001, to a new generation of readers. The day the 2001 article was published, I received an e-mail from former sportswriter Scott Coconower, which read, “I was touched by your story on Sam McDowell. I am one of the many people he has helped. I worked for the Bradenton Herald and St. Petersburg Times before losing everything (wife, career, and home) due to my own alcoholism.
“While fading in and out of a blackout one night in 1990, I somehow tracked down Sam after reading a story about him in Sports Illustrated . I told him I desperately needed help or I was going to die. I’ll never forget it when he said, ‘Well, pardner, let’s see what we can do.’ He had Leo Cyr of the Major League Baseball Players Association call me the next morning, as I was being evicted from a crummy one-room apartment. They arranged for my treatment at the Keystone Center in Philadelphia. I haven’t had a drink in m