This is Retro Sports Radio. Visit RetroSeasons.com for more sports history.
Hi there everybody, I'm Bob Brents, the voice of the Pittsburgh Pirates, and we're turning
back the years so that you can recapture the most exciting moments in Pittsburgh baseball
just as they happen.
It's the seventh and deciding game of the 1925 World Series. Darkness, rain, and tension
by the turn at Forbes Field. Last of the eighth, the bases are loaded with Bucks and Kai Kai
Kyders at bat. Two out, Kyders hits the drive down the right field line. Two runs score,
and the Pirates win nine-seven. Oh, how sweet it was.
1925 Pirates, only team in baseball ever to win the series after being down three games
to one. Impossible? Sure, they're the impossible Pirates, and they played it that way for 60
incredible years. They won four National League pennants in nine years from 1901 to 1909 under
Barney Dreyfus, led by a manager Fred Clark, sparked by Honus Wagner, everybody's all-time
shortstop, Babe Adams, and other greats. They played Boston in the very first World Series
in 1903, dropping that one five games to three. Then they won the series in 1909, beating
Detroit four games to three. And this is how J. Honus Wagner in the twilight of his career
as a pirate coach compared baseball as it was played in those days to the game of today.
Well, it's quite a difference now than seeing the players right now. They've got a great
system. Everybody knows his unions. In other words, team works down, put it back. And
the players today, I think, in the minor leagues, one thing is you don't get what they used to
get in the minor leagues. All the minor league managers now want players to hit home runs,
and the fans want a home run hitter. So they decided, the managers in the minor leagues
decided that they'd pick up young fellows who could hit a long ball. In the old days,
they had speed, and they'd done it a whole lot, and they sacrificed a whole lot. And being
a dead ball, of course, the outfielders didn't place a deal. And they could throw you out
the place, and they should have got a good start. And the base run, of course, is a lot
of starts. There are a few good base runners now. They run a card as long as a hit ball.
And the manager figured, well, we won't send them down here. We've got two long ball hitters
at the back of them coming up and so forth.
It was a long time as baseball was measured before the pirates were to win another pennant
after their World Series triumph over Ty Cobb and the Tigers in 1909.
Sixteen years, to be exact. Meanwhile, the cries were,
loki, loki, loki, can't get them over, and put in yellow horse.
Yes, Paul Long, old buddy, and we weren't old enough to worry about it. But the first
long dry spell entered in 1925 under manager Bill McKechnie.
The Dean of Sports, Editors Chet Smith, covered that 1925 series, and this is how he saw it.
Walter Johnson, the big train they called him, threw a five-hitter at the Pirates, and Washington
won the first game 4-1. Vic Aldridge then evened it 3-2. Washington took the third game 4-3,
and when Johnson came back with a six-hit shutout to win 4-0, it looked like the Pirates were
dead. They were down three games to one, and no team had ever gone on to win the series
under those odds. But the Bucks did the impossible. Vic Aldridge won the fifth game 6-4, and Ray
Kramer chucked a six-hitter in the sixth for a tight 3-2 decision to tie the series at
three apiece. The seventh game was played in horrible weather, rained by the buckets
full. Aldridge, Johnny Morrison, Kramer, and Ru Goldin pitching for the Bucks, Johnson for
Washington. The Pirates tied it up at 5-5 with two runs in the seventh. Roger Peckenpah,
the most valuable player in the American League that year, dropped Eddie Moore's pop
fly. Moore then scored on Max Carey's third double of the game. Carey, the Pirate captain,
batted a thumping 4-5-8 for the series. Pi trained her triple to right to score Carey
with the equalizer, and Pi was thrown out at home. Washington scored a run in the top
of the eighth. It was Peckenpah's home run to go ahead 7-6. Now it was right up to the
Pirates. In the last of the eighth, Glenn Wright, a foul to Joe Judge. With stuffy
Guinness up and the rain still coming down, Johnson asked for sawdust on the mound. He
got it. McGinnis flied to Sam Rice with two downs, Smith doubled to right. Amel Eady ran
for him and then Carson Bigby batting for Kramer, doubled to left, scoring Edie with
the tying run. Moore walked. Carey grounded to Peckenpah, who committed his eighth error,
a World Series record, which prompted the famous baseball writer to select Peckenpah
as the National League's most valuable player. With the bases loaded, Kyler came up. The
game was delayed until more sawdust could be brought out. After falling off three pitches,
Kyler, with a full count, sliced a drive to right. Three runners came across, but the
ball had lodged in a canvas that was used to cover the infield as it had been rolled
across the right field line. So it was a ground rule two-base hit and Carey had to go back
to third. Pooch Barnhart flied to Harris and the inning was over. Then Oldham came in to
pitch for the Pirates in the ninth. He struck out Rice, got Bucky Harris, the Washington
manager to line out to Moore, and Goose Gosling was called out on strikes. Five thousand fans
waited outside for Kyler, crowded him on their shoulders to his home half a mile from the
ballpark. John Heidler, the National League president, summed it up this way.
The Pirates are the greatest club I've seen in all of my years of baseball, the game-est
of all clubs. Just too bad, Old John wasn't around to see the 1960s.
Yes, the impossible 1925 Pirates, down three games to one and the first team to come on
to win the series after being that far out of it. Comedian, sportsman Joe E. Brown later
told an inside story about that sensational but soggy finish in the rain. He had been criticized
by a good friend, J.G. Taylor Spink, in the sporting news for his part in the movie, Elmer
the Great. Spink claimed it was just too fantastic to imagine a baseball game being played in
a driving rain. This was Joe Brown's explanation and story. He told baseball commissioner,
Ford Frick, some years later. We got the idea for the game and for the conditions in that
game from a game played in the 1925 World Series between Pittsburgh and Washington in
Pittsburgh. Very interesting part about that Ford was that I was talking to the trainer
of the Pittsburgh club, a man who was a trainer at that time or rather the groundkeeper out
here, and a few when they were up at San Bernardino a few years ago. And I said, I remember the
game so very well. And I remember that in the game there was so much water on the infield.
As a matter of fact, they had to turn the lights on under the sand to get the crowd
out. You know, it was late. You remember, I know you covered.
That's right. That's what I'm just going to speak about. I told him, I said, I remember
when Walter Johnson was out there for five times during the ball game, they came out
with a wheelbarrow full of sawdust and put it on the mound so he could stand up. The
water was around the mound. And he said, yes, and I might call your attention, it's something
you don't know, that every time before I took that wheelbarrow full of sawdust out to the
mound, I run the hose on it good.
I didn't know that.
Yeah.
Well, you could ask your trainer on that one Joe too. You know, funny part of it is if
we hadn't played that game in the rain, that final game of the World Series in 25, had
we not played it in the rain that day, they couldn't have played again for 17 days.
We wouldn't have played. I remember it very well. Yes, sir.
On top of the world, in the third, the next year, torn manager Bill McKechnie walked
the plank when the team failed to repeat.
Donnie Bush took over as manager and the Pirates climbed back to the top of the
National League again in 1927.
That was the year Charles A. Lindbergh made the first nonstop flight across the ocean.
And the United States sent the Marines to Nicaragua and China. Pirate fans wished the
New York Yankees had been sent there too because that's who the Pirates had to play in the
27th series.
As the Pirate hopes were high before that series, the Wainer Act, baseball's greatest
brother act, was rolling in high gear. Paul Wainer, big poison, led the league with 380.
And brother Lloyd, little poison, hit 355.
Pitcher Carl Hubbell, the giant meal ticket, later moaned, every time you pitch to the
Pirates, you got one Wainer on base and another at bat.
Chet Smith, you covered that 1927 series. What happened there?
Well, the Yankees that year had a team that was known as Murderers Row.
Ruth, Gary, Musel, and Tony Lozare.
They set a league record with 110 victories.
The Babe hit 3-5-6 and set the all-time record for home runs, 60.
In my book, it was the greatest baseball team of all time.
But actually, it was Yankee pitching that won the series.
The Yankees swept the first three games, and the fourth game has been replayed over and over.
With the score tied 3-3 in the last of the ninth, Combs walked.
Mark Koenig butted safely down the third base line.
With Ruth up, John Milges let loose a wild pitch, advancing the runners.
Then Ruth was passed intentionally filling the bases.
Blue Gary examined and so did Musel.
The crowd cheered Milges.
But then with Lozare up, another wild pitch by Milges, and it was all over.
But Johnny Gooch, the catcher that day, always said that it wasn't a wild pitch.
It was a passed ball that lost the series for the Pirates.
The Pirates were murdered four straight.
And then it was 33 long and sometimes tortuous years before the Pirates were to get back on top of the National League again.
They managed to hang in there in the First Division for 12 straight years and were mighty respectable,
finishing in the money 23 of 28 years until the roof caved in after World War II.
But before the Pirates hit bottom, there was a moment of near gold and glory in 1938
when Pye Trainer pulled a near miracle as player manager.
This is the way Chet Smith saw it.
We didn't have a good Pirate team in 1938, just a bunch of try guys who fought their way into first place on July 12th,
held a five-game lead as late as September 8th, and almost stole the pennant.
The winner act was fading. We had no outstandingly farman Mace Brown,
one of the first presidents, Bill Benzwenger, felt so confident we would win the pennant
and invested almost $40,000 in a new press box.
Then came that fateful afternoon of September 29th, and I'll never forget it.
With first place at stake and the score tied 5-5 with the Cubs in Wrigley Field in Chicago,
Gabby Hartnett came to bat in the last of the night.
Brown was pitching. There were two out, none off.
The count was two strikes, no balls.
Brown delivered the third pitch, a letter high ball that didn't break down in the way as Brown wanted it to do.
Gabby swung the ball, sailed out of Wrigley Field like a trophy looking for a museum.
You just felt it rather than saw it.
The Cubs won the game 6-5 and then went on to win the pennant by two games.
[♪music playing on guitar and guitar playing on guitar with a
soft, soft horn playing on the piano.
Suffering catfish, that was a heartbreaker.
And then some years later, Joey Brown and baseball commissioner Ford C. Frick
were discussing the 1938 season and talking about the great batting stars.
Those two little fellows that were with this ball club, the Wainers were great ball,
greater ball players and a lot of people appreciate they were ball players, ball players.
They could do everything and seem, seemingly, I see those two fellows up at the plate,
both of them had habits of one who put that bat almost down his back.
Now standing up there and he looked as though he'd be the, but he was ready for that ball when it was pitched.
They lost a pretty tough chance to get into a World Series when that big guy came up there
and he told me himself he never saw that ball as it crossed the plate.
He started across the plate, never did get across, but he hit that ball actually blind.
You know the funny part of it was, Joe, that if Hartnett doesn't hit that ball,
we've got to call that ball game that day.
I was out there and I thought the umpires carried a little too long anyhow
and another hitter couldn't possibly have come up.
They'd had to call that ball game.
Fritz Berg hates to hear you say you thought they carried a little too long.
We had that Forbes field all set for that World Series.
Yeah, I know.
Pickups were printed, weren't they?
Oh, yeah.
You're still looking for a World Series button from that, Joe?
That's right, that's right.
Well, I had them when you had one and now, well, I was going to send one,
but I can't get it away from Roswell.
Oh, my aching back was a familiar sound.
And things got so tough for the bucks of Rosie Roswell,
then the voice of the Pirates, that he even talked about some other ball clubs.
This was one of Rosie's favorite stories, told as only he, Rosie, could tell it.
Thanks a lot, Mr. Hello, you good friends of the air.
One of the wise pages of another day one time said,
there's a reason for everything, but everything is not reason.
How right, how right.
Let's get to an odd baseball story.
You baseball fans who have patiently listened to my ramblings for so many years
may have wondered why I keep constantly playing the hunches.
As the Piggins come and hover around my broadcasting booth out of Forbes field,
well, there's a story behind it.
And I have to roll the curtain back about 14 years to pick up the connecting link
between the Piggins and my good luck omen.
The World Series in 1933 was played between the Washington Senators and the New York Giants.
The Giants caught the first two games at the Polar Grounds and then moved over to Washington.
The Senators took the first game in the National Capital,
but the Giants took the next two and became world champions.
Now let me get back to the Piggins.
It was a chilly October day when they played that first game in Washington,
but pecking away at the saw directly back of shortstop was a slate-colored Piggins that they came to move,
despite the appeals of Joe Cronin, the Senator shortstop, and Bronte Ryan, the Giants shortstop.
At the beginning of each inning, one or the other of those two defensive players would give the bird the bum's rice.
But just as soon as the pitcher would kill the rubber again,
back would come Mr. Pigeon and start grubbing for work.
The first day, the second day, the third day, that Pigeon was there.
Finally, the umpire and the ball players all gave up and refused to even try to chase our young feathered friends.
But I'll say this, outside of watching the ball strike, hit, and error,
there never was as much competition in the World Series game as that Pigeon furnished for three days in Washington.
A changing time at every inning, the fans would fasten their attention upon the Pigeon playing in the back of the position at shortstop.
And the only time that bird would move a wing would be when a ground ball would hit past it,
or when the shortstop would back up to take a little blooper.
Then and then only would it lift itself along, only to return again as soon as play had resumed.
The Seekers? Yes, of course there's a Seeker.
Let me run over her needed players of the scoring in the final game.
Al Schumacher had started for the Giants and Crowder was throwing in for the Senators.
In the second inning, the Giants picked up two tallies when Schumacher drove out a single to send Travis Jackson and Gus Mantiso over to Happy Gum.
They picked up another one in the sixth on a pair of doubles, but the Senators went to work in the last half of the sixth and tied it up.
The game moved into the pinning.
When the three men away, Little Maloc came up, got ahold of a fast pitch,
and drove it out of the lap to win the ball game in the World Championship for the Giants.
Oh yes, what about the Pidges?
Well, when the last put out was made, Blondie Ryan, the Giant shortstop, reached beneath the pocket,
threw it out a handful of corn and dropped it on the ground.
The Pidges came in a little closer to the infield. Blondie peeked over, picked it up, and carried it into the Giants' clubhouse as a good luck starter at the 1933
Playoffs. There, he held out a super-duper clock, and so I come baseball broadcast.
This is Rosie Roswell saying goodbye and wishing you well all along the way.
In 1948, the Pirates made a spasmodic lurch into the First Division, finishing fourth, eight and one half lengths back.
Billy Meyer was named manager of the year and richly deserved it.
And that was the year the most famous play-by-play announcer in the history of baseball made his debut.
Bing Crosby, Pirate stockholder, did it this way under the tutelage of Rosie Roswell in April of 1948.
Now Ralph Kiner standing by down there waiting for Doyle Laid, who's just taking over the pitching choice for the Chicago Club.
He's a right-hander, and Ralph Kiner will be the first man to face him.
Laid last year was in there with an 11 and 10 record, 11 wins and 10 losses.
Billy, but doing a grand job, I don't dare trust myself for this from right back in there.
Don't you think this is out of my monotony?
No, I'm never going to get a left-hander. I know that.
Well, I'd like to see Ralph improve a little off his showing so far this afternoon against Rush.
He couldn't do much, although he hit a hard smash to the left field with his second by Faberson, facing Doyle Laid.
Now maybe do a little better.
And he does. He's got a little bit of a raise going there.
Over the scoreboard.
Over in the Chidley Park, a roundtripper for Ralph Kiner, he's first of the 1928 teams.
Let's hope that it's the first of 61.
And that'll bring a gallon of field test ice cream in a month to some shut-in here in Pittsburgh.
Ralph is deaning.
We'll be sending a card along for that, his first home run of the 1948 team. Put the buckos in there.
Three to 11. I just had to take that and bring because we got a little corner on here.
He's home run.
Ralph is really deaning. The first pitch that Doyle laid through to him, he hit it right over the fence, the scoreboard,
the clock, about 20 foot to the right of the clock, and about the same height as the top of the clock.
I said the fastball hit a hard smash here yesterday for the home run.
May I tell you something? It was a swinging bunch.
And had to let Ralph just hit.
The wind is blowing against us this afternoon when you hit the left field.
The hardest smash I've seen in this park.
I guess he hit a few last year just as hard as some of the others.
When he hit that, I know it was a home run. No question.
That was what they call a first.
A real hard hit ball.
First pitch Doyle laid through to him. He combed right over the left field, over the clock, over others.
And that was the only time anyone ever took a mic away from Bing Crosby.
By the way, there was a second baseman in that game, and this is what Bing had to say about him.
The ground ball to Danny Murtaugh. He takes it on the big hop.
That's all. And thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for putting up with my announcing.
I know it's not much good.
Let's run out to grab Riddle and give him a big hug and a kiss.
It's a beautifully two-hits, two-hit game.
Rip Tool gets up out of the dugout and goes over to Elmer Riddle and puts his arms around him and gives him a big hug.
Wonderful pitch game. Lots of control. Lots of stuff on the ball.
Confident all the time. Handled beautifully by Clutson.
Some wonderful plays in back of him, particularly by Roe Jack and Gus Keene.
And Danny Murtaugh, who drove in the first run.
Friends, it's been a real pleasure to appear here on this broadcast with Rosie and Bob Prince.
Going east, I hope to get back to some of their home games, which start the 1st of May.
I hope to be able to see you then and talk to you over this microphone.
I know you'll excuse my deficiencies as a radio broadcaster for baseball, but Rosie seems to think I bring them luck out there.
And if I do, I'm only too willing to appear and contribute whatever I can to the fellow out here at Ford's Field.
In 1949, the Pirates fell back into the 2nd Division and finished 6.
There were some changes made in the five-year program.
The rookie tryout camp was launched in 1950.
Here's how Frank McKinney explained the changes.
Well, as we indicated when we first took over the Pittsburgh ball club three years ago,
we launched into what we thought would be a five-year program.
At that time, as you recall, Pittsburgh had little or no farm system.
This is a game whereby you've got to develop your own talent.
Certainly you can't buy star ball players.
Nobody will sell you their stars.
All you can hope to get is, shall I say, cast-offs.
We immediately launched into the development of a farm system, which under normal circumstances would take four or five years.
This year, we took the cream of our crop, so to speak, from our 13 farm clubs and had them out here
in the hopes that by schooling them, they could advance for perhaps one classification in their development program.
There were about 70 ball players in camp, and I was agreeably surprised to learn to see that most of them
had grown at least two or three inches in height since a year ago.
In my opinion, there are about at least six or seven that will be ready for Pittsburgh within the next year to 18 months.
Well, now, Frank, of course, everybody in Pittsburgh has been tremendously interested in this bonus pitcher, young lefty Pettit.
When you met him, I presume you shook hands with him gingerly for fear you would damage him in some way,
and I heard a remark that you said that if he didn't look good to you when you got there, you probably would shoot a couple of Scots.
At least I thought you might have been quoted that way, whether that was correct or not, I don't know.
I bet it impressed you, Frank. Pettit has all the earmarks of being a major league pitcher.
He has the poise, he has the physical ability, he has the stamina.
In my opinion, the only thing he lacks is experience.
I saw him pitch three innings Sunday, and with the possible exception of being a little stage fright,
he had all the earmarks of being a left-handed feller, in my opinion.
I think we're in for one of the most interesting years that we've had thus far.
By that I don't mean, and I'm not claiming to win any pennants, but I think definitely we're a first division ball club.
I still will stand by my statement of asking the fans of Pittsburgh to bear with us for five years.
At the end of five years or within the next two years, I'm definitely sure that we will have a one, two, three ball club.
By that I don't mean this coming year, but again, at the end of our five-year probationary period, so to speak,
I think we will be able to give a good accounting of ourselves.
But the luck of the Pirates was running all bad at that point.
Paul Pettit came up with a sore arm and $100,000 went down the drain.
The Pirates finished last that year, for the first time since the First World War.
Late in 1950, John Galbraith took over and brought in Branch Rickey Sr., the creator of the farm system, as general manager.
But for eight agonizing years, the Bucks finished last or next to last.
They tried everything from the youth movement to midget short stops and even left-handed catchers.
Ralph Keiner's home runs weren't enough to stem the tide of losses, even though he led the National League seven times,
hit a pirate high of 54 in 1949, and racked up an all-time pirate career total of 301.
Joey Brown provided some comic relief during the dark days with this advice to the home run champion.
I've got to help that boy. That boy needs help.
Come here, Mr. Keiner, if you don't mind, old boy, come here. I've got to, I want to help you. I want to help you with your hitting.
You've got to pay more attention to Brown from now on. You've got to watch that first ball.
Don't stare at the pitcher a little bit more. You're not staring him enough.
Now, do you see what the St. Louis Browns are doing? You've got to do that too. I could do that with you.
Do you mind if I mesmerize you slightly? Are you going to, are you going to go in today?
I will if you can give me that.
Are you going? No, I could give you.
I can't play today.
Well, never mind the swollen wrist. Let's get a swollen batting average. I mean something, forget about this kind of thing.
I can do it to you, you see, if you just pay attention. Look me right in the eye.
Yes, you see, now we've got it. No, no, no, no, don't laugh. No, no, no. Let's go back again. This time don't laugh.
Look me right in the eye. Good. I've got you. I've got you. It's 61 this year. Really it is.
No, no, if you just pay attention, keep your mind on it. We'll do it. Don't just relax all the time, completely.
I'm letting you ladies and gentlemen listening to this. You're very lucky. They're fortunate people, you know.
Yes, they are.
Here's a, I'm taking this boy now and you pay attention to me, Ralph.
Oh, let's not fiddle around. Look me smack dabba. You've got it.
And along about the same time during this period of fitful transition, there was a fellow whose career was to take a different turn.
Danny Murtaugh, second baseman, double play and double talk artist and manager to be.
Here's Murtaugh doing a play by play of a pirate game in the twilight of his playing career.
Here comes Ralph Keiner up to the plate. Needless to tell you folks that he's our home run hitter.
Here comes the first pitch and as usual it's high and wide where Ralph can't get to it.
You put it again, Dan.
Marty's just sticking his nose in again. Go ahead, Dan.
My guy, Ralph, was telling me yesterday he felt a little nervous walking up to that plate and I asked him how do you think that pitcher felt.
There's another pitch coming down there and Ralph's out of behind the plate.
I might say that Ralph's been hitting that ball real good this spring. He's hit about two dozen over that left field wall and it's 350.
I just assumed he'd not hit too many in spring training. Remember every time he does and he has a good season with home runs?
Here comes the next pitch up, Bob, and it's a curve ball on the outside corner of the plate.
But it was too low I believe and he called it a ball.
Lon's a pretty good umpire. You know that?
Mornin' came behind that plate.
Gee, if he doesn't know balls and strikes after all those years of pitching, nobody will, huh?
My guy, he should know. There's another pitch high and inside. It's three and one. I don't think the fans like it.
No, it doesn't sound like they like it in that background, does it?
Hear him yelling? My guy. I'll tell you one thing. Here's the only man in baseball hitting and he's got seven outfielders.
Look at that infield, how they play him. They're all back in the grass.
Uh-oh. He fouled that one off for strike two. His count is now three balls and two strikes and the pitcher's still sweating pretty good out there.
Well, he won't give him anything good to hitch. He can bet that.
Here comes the pitch right now. Let's see what he's going to do. Uh-oh.
Now, face hit, line drive, pass short, stop. Left fielder, center fielder come up for the ball and they had him as single.
Well, now that's a masterful bit of description, Daniel.
I thought so.
Danny Murtaugh was a mighty, versatile man as time was to prove.
One day in the dark days we asked Mr. Branchwicky Sr. what he looked for in a young ball player and this was his reply.
That's a whale of a question. I might tell you that I have a very competent scout, a boy I've known for many years.
He is not versed at all in the technique of positions or instruction to players on the skillful little pleasing plays.
Not at all, but he is a productive scout and he asks himself three questions.
Can they prospect? The chap here in front of him. Can he throw hard, he calls it.
And can he run fast? And third, can he hit the ball off for a piece, he calls it.
Now, if a boy can do those things, if he can run fast and throw hard and has great power at the plate, whether he strikes out or not,
those three things it seems to him to qualify him and he's produced some very great players over a period of many years.
Sometimes he adds another one in conversation and that is he asks himself, does he like to play?
And that is a significant addition. It is the incomparable thing of wanting to win.
It makes men devote themselves to their weaknesses and it makes men do more than they can consciously.
They are completely obsessed by a desire to excel and when you get 25 men like that, when nothing matters except victory,
they sacrifice whatever it takes in the way of diversions and indulgences of themselves.
Everything is subordinated, made secondary to the whole objective course, namely to win, to have a great winning team.
Those men are not satisfied with mediocrity. They are not having their eyes glued upon fourth place or third or second.
It's a whole lot better to have a youngster who is coming along with the direction of his play that leads to a pennant,
although this year he may be only able to put us in fourth place or fifth or what have you,
than it is to have players of greater ability just now who will not crystallize into a final club that can win a pennant.
They will always keep you in a lower position.
Our objective in Pittsburgh is to get boys who are going to come at one time into a pennant winning aggregation.
During those painful rebuilding years, there was one event that propelled Pittsburgh into the national spotlight.
First baseman Dale Long hit home runs in eight consecutive games for an all-time record,
a feat that Ruth, Gary, Greenberg, and the other greats never accomplished.
The year was 1956 and the dates May 19th through May 28th. That will be remembered for a long time.
Almost forgotten is Ralph Keiner's feat of hitting eight home runs in four consecutive games from September 10th through September 12th, 1947.
In 1958, the Pirates jumped from eighth to second, made a good run at the Milwaukee Pennant Express in September.
Some experts picked the Pirates to win the pennant in 1959,
but that was the year of disappointment, injuries, slumps, and temporary decline and fall to fourth place.
Little Roy Face gave the fans their biggest moments, hanging up all-time pitching records of 17 consecutive games won
and the highest winning percentage of 947 with 18 wins and one loss, all in relief to stamp him as the greatest all-time reliever.
And here is the matter-of-fact way L. Roy Face explained his phenomenal success.
Well, Bob, I don't think that every pitcher can pitch the guy the same.
I mean, each guy has to learn to pitch his own way to each hitter because Verne Law might throw a fastball
or Bob Friend might get a guy out on a fastball.
And if I throw the fastball, he might hit it out of the ballpark because my delivery is different than theirs.
The fastball might not be the same as theirs and you can't go by that. You have to go learn your own way.
Another Pirate who gave the fans a tremendous moment in that otherwise unhappy 1959 campaign was small-statured Harvey Hattick.
All he did was pitch 12 perfect innings of baseball, something no other pitcher ever accomplished.
He did it against the champion Milwaukee Braves and once again with the impossible Pirate ending.
Anything that Jim and I have witnessed in this season absolutely at this moment pales into insignificance.
And we've had some thumpers. Here's the windup and the one-two pitch to Berdette.
Foul off to the right out of play and Berdette has shortened up the grip on that bat and is trying to really hang in there.
And don't forget he also is quite a threat at the long ball.
Two men down. Last half of the ninth inning, no score. I can't repeat it enough.
The one-two pitch. Stuck him out swinging. Hattick's pitch is a perfect nine inning, no hit, no run game.
Outstanding ovation.
Ladies and gentlemen, Harvey Hattick has just become the seventh pitcher in the history of all baseball to pitch a perfect, no hit, no run, nine inning ball game.
Going into the last of the 13th, Bob Prince summed up what happened to that point.
For the final out of the ninth inning was a strikeout on Luberdette. It was the eighth turned in by Hattick and at that moment he became the eighth pitcher in all the history of baseball to pitch a perfect, no hit, no run game.
He then went on to get him in the tenth and the eleventh and the twelfth, retiring 36 in a row and counting the final two outs he had against the Cardinals in his last victory at Forbes Field.
He retired 38 men in order before a man got aboard and then only on an arrow.
One out, batter Adcock takes high ball run.
One ball, no strikes.
There isn't anybody right now sicker at this moment than Don Hook, I guarantee you that. He's crushed over this.
Here's the pitch, there's a flat ball deep right center. That ball may be on through and over everything. It is, no, no runs.
Absolutely fantastic.
Pandemonium rain. Here's what the umpires eventually decided. Adcock hit the ball over the fence in right center. Mantia scored.
After passing second, Aaron took the shortcut across the pitcher's mound and Adcock passed him on the base pass.
Umpire Dascoli ruled that Adcock was out for passing Aaron between second and third.
Adcock was given a double, Aaron was returned to second, and Mantia's run was the only one needed to make the score one to nothing and end the game.
If you tried to write the pirate story of 1960 before it happened, nobody would have believed it.
And it would have been rejected by any Hollywood producer as too fantastic.
Utterly impossible. All the hopes and dreams of 35 years and considerably more came true to a degree that defied description and analysis.
The only way I know how to say it is how sweet it is, and we had them all away.
You could single out the trades by General Manager Joe L. Brown or the perfect handling of players in judgment of Manager Danny Murtaugh,
or the dedicated performance of many players to surpass anything they had ever done before.
Dick Groat, the captain, beating far more formidable hitters for the National League batting title.
Vernon Law, winning 20 games for the first time in his career.
Don Hope, the Tiger, and his driving will to win.
Bob Clemente's fielding and running. Bob Skinner's bombing. Bill Maszorowski's wizardry at second base.
Bob Frim's comeback. Elroy Faces' coldly calculated relief pitching.
The ability of almost anyone to climb off the bench and win a game.
Every game produced a different hero. And how about the fans?
Well, they plastered beat-em-bucks stickers on their cars, stores everywhere. And then there was a song.
Yes sir, Mr. Prince, there was a song. And I know you're not Bob Hope, and I'm certainly not Bing Crosby,
but I think we may be able to give the folks a brief idea. It went like this.
Oh, the Bucks are going all the way, all the way, all the way. The Bucks are going all the way, all the way this year.
Beat-em-bucks! Beat-em-bucks!
Beat-em-bucks is right. Well, the fans never gave up and neither did those pirates.
The later the inning, the more likely they were to bomb you.
They seesawed in and out of first place until July 25th.
Then Bob Frim pitched them into the lead to stay, a 4-2 victory over the Cardinals in St. Louis.
Finally on September the 25th, ironically in a losing game in Milwaukee,
their first pennant in 33 years as the Cubs knocked off the runner-up cards 5-0.
This was the way Paul Long described the clincher.
1-0, the Pirates lead on the strength of a home run by Bill Masurowski back in the fifth inning.
Otherwise, it's been a real pitching duel between the great left-hander Warren Spahn
and the great left-hander also Harvey Haddix.
Right now, it's 1-0, the Pirates lead.
It's just light. It's all over. They've got the report down there, Paul. The Pirates win it.
The Pirates have won the National League pennant on the basis of the Cardinals
losing to the Chicago Cubs at Wrigley Field. It's all over.
And this crowd here knows it. A lot of transistor radios here.
The applause has gone up. Clemente has just singled into center field. He's on first.
The come-out, this 35,000 crowd, now they're making the announcement on the loudspeaker.
The Cubs have beaten the Cardinals, and the Pirates have won the National League pennant.
A deeply relieved fellow was President John Galbraith.
Well, it has been a long time, and it's been a rough road, but I feel a little bit that we've paid back
a little of the debt for the tremendous, tremendous support we've had for 14 years.
And that's not now. That's back when we had a very ordinary ball game.
They've been great, and I hope they're as happy about tonight as we are.
It was clear Vice President Tom Johnson will always remember.
It's been great. It's the greatest year I've ever had in baseball, as you can well imagine,
and it's just a real thrill, and I know the whole city's thrill.
And Captain Dick Groth, sidelined with a broken wrist, was worried that he might miss the series.
Something I've always wanted to do is play on a pennant winner, and I've said all winter,
and I've said over and over again, I want to play on a pennant winner in Pittsburgh.
I only hope I can play in the World Series.
The city of Pittsburgh celebrated the Pirates' pennant victory with a gigantic torchlight parade
through the Golden Triangle at midnight, sponsored by KDKA-TV and radio and the Chamber of Commerce.
The World Series should have been anticlimactic, but it wasn't.
Meanwhile, at a Gus Van Club luncheon in the Pittsburgh Press Club,
manager Danny Murtaugh received the first of many awards.
He was inducted into their Hall of Fame.
Murtaugh, in accepting the award, told this story.
It's got to be one of these knockdown battles.
So finally, I'm talking to one of my pitchers who had me pitching at the ball game that day.
I said, look son, when this other pitcher comes up here, I want you to knock him right out.
I want you to knock him down.
And this pitcher might have been one of these fellows that is quite well versed in the Bible,
and he turned around and he said, remember Skip, turn the other cheek.
So I looked at him and I said, all right, me.
I said, I'll turn the other cheek.
I said, but if this guy don't get down, is it going to cost you a hundred bucks?
So he looked at me and he says, if they don't live by the sword, they'll perish by the sword.
And gentlemen, you know I don't fabricate, and that's a true story.
And general manager Joe L. Brown paid this tribute to the pirates and Murtaugh.
The 1960 pirates have not been successful because we have the greatest collection of all-stars ever assembled.
I think that there are a number of reasons that have been made public on certainly more than one occasion by many people
that have made this club a successful team to this date, and I know they will continue to be successful.
Chet mentioned that I've been on tender hooks, that I'm an ulcer case.
Well, I don't have ulcers, but I have a few hooks sticking in me around.
But of course I think that that's easily understandable.
The winning of a pennant has been my lifetime dream, if you don't mind a personal touch here.
And of course to see a dream come almost to its fruition is something that believe that it just can't happen.
But these various qualities that have been attributed to our ballpark have been team spirit, desire, ambition, aggressiveness, intelligence.
Those of you who have seen Dan, who saw Danny as a player and who have seen him as a manager,
I think will recognize that those very same qualities are inherent in him.
And I think those things in a ball club, while perhaps they are somewhat innate in the individual player,
are instilled more than anything else by the manager.
I think Danny Murtaugh is not only one of the game's outstanding managers, if not the best, but the most underrated.
One loyal fan, the most loyal of them all, who deserved to see the great day when the pennant arrived was the late Rosie Rosewell.
He, in a sense, represented the spirit that carried the Pirates through.
And this is how he expressed it one day, back in 1950, when he was honored at Forbes Field.
The only thing I can say is that my love for Pittsburgh will always be an abiding thing in my heart.
And my Buccos will always be my ballpark, whether they're up in Perth or Lamp.
They'll be talking about the World Series of 1960 until Doomsday, the most impossible pirate team of all.
Three times the Pirates won the World Series in 1909, 1925, and 1960, each time in seven games,
but never in such fashion as the 1960 crew.
Newsweek magazine ran pictures of Danny Murtaugh with the heading, Wanted for Piracy.
The New York Times' Arthur Daly termed the Pirates, Destinies' darlings.
The New York World Telegram and Sun said, If ever a World Series was stolen, this was the one.
The 1960 Yankees hit more home runs than any previous American League team, more than the Yankees' famed Murderers Row,
who clobbered the Pirates four straight in the 27th Series.
They humiliated the Pirates 16 to 3, 10 to nothing, and 12 nothing, worse in dignities than any team ever suffered in the Series.
The Yankees set new series records with 55 runs scored to the Pirates' 27, 91 hits to the Buccos' 60,
but the Pirates had them even at the end of 6, and finally whipped the Yankees with their favorite weapon, the home run.
And here's what happened in the seventh and payoff game.
The Pirates got off to a quick two-run lead on Rocky Nelson's Homer in the first inning.
They grabbed two more in the second inning. The Yankees came to life in the fifth with Moose Gowron's home run.
Then they piled up four runs in the sixth to lead 5 to 4.
Yogi Berra's home run off the Baron of the Bullpen, Roy Face, was the big blast, scoring three runs.
The Yankees teed off on Face for two more in the eighth, and it seemed to be all over.
But in the last of the eighth, pinch-hitter Gino Somoli singled.
Verdon got an infield hit. The ball took a bad hop and struck shortstop Tony Kubek on the Adam's apple.
He clutched his throat and collapsed.
Then Grote singled a left, scoring Somoli and making the score 7 to 5.
Skinner was thrown out on an attempted sacrifice bunt.
Now listen to Chuck Thompson, NBC's radio voice during the Series, who described it this way.
In typical World Series fashion, this one appears to be going right down to the wire.
Now Blanchard pumping out the sign to Coates, who wigwags with that glove just a little bit.
He wants to see that sign again.
Now Coates is into the move, the one-two to Clannetti.
He swings the ground ball, slowly hit off the first base side, charging at Skowron.
He makes the pick up, there'll be no play on the right side.
Clannetti hit a full roller down first base way, wide of the bag at first, about 10 or 12 feet to the right or to the second base side.
Skowron came charging in, made the pick up on the ball, had no chance of a play at the plate because Verdon broke with the crack of the bat.
And then realized that he couldn't get over there in time to get Clannetti at first base,
so the infield hit by Clannetti has driven in the sixth Pirate run.
Down to third base goes Grove, two out, hits the Yankee, seven, the Pirate, six, and the batter will be catcher Hal Smith.
Smith steps in with two down, a Pirate run at the first and third, and this ballpark is going crazy.
Coates into the set, he throws, Smith takes a strike right down the pipe, and Smith was giving it a good look.
One strike, the right hand batting Hal Smith.
Clannetti hit a little dribbler off the first base side, right of the bag at first, and legged out into a base hit.
And of course, Verdon was able to score the sixth run.
Down to one strike, this coming to Smith.
It's high and a ball, one ball, one strike.
Now the Pirate opportunity in this inning came about on a ban hop that hit Kubek and McCote and knocked him out of the ballgame.
Now the one-one pitch coming down to Hal Smith.
There it is, swing and a miss, right to, and he really pulled the trigger.
One ball, two strikes to Hal Smith, who gave it the big ripple, the Sunday punch.
I couldn't find it.
The tying run is that third base and the person of Dick Grove.
The go-ahead run is out there at first and the person of Roberto Clannetti.
And now the set, the one-two pitch coming to Hal Smith.
Coates throws, he started a swing and held back, and it's taken high for a ball.
A check swing and a ball, too. Two and two now.
And for just a split second, every move in the Pirate dugout came to a stop on that call up there at the plate.
But it was a high pitch and Smith held back on the swing.
So the count is two and two.
And Coates into the stretch.
He sets, down the two-two to Smith.
He swings a long drive ball, he's to let's see if, I don't know, it might go out of here.
It is going, going, going.
Hortfield is at this moment an outdoor insane asylum.
We have seen and shared in one of baseball's great moments.
In the top of the ninth, the Yanks tied it up at nine-nine.
They had scored two runs, KOing Bob Friend, the hard luck pitcher of the series, in a hurry.
And Harvey Haddix had trouble putting out the fire.
And then, the last of the night. And again, Chuck Thompson.
The last half of the ninth inning.
Changes made by the Yankees. McGoogle goes to third base.
Cletus Boyer moves over to play shortstop.
And Ralph Terry, of course, on the mound, will be facing Masurowski.
And to go over that, Barra play once again. It was a hard hit drive down the first base side.
The Nelson fielded on the first hop and tagged the bag. At first, that eliminated Barra.
He was out. And then, Mantle could have been in a run down, but it was not the case.
He dove back safely to first base.
Here's a ball on, too high down to Masurowski.
And the Yankees have tied the game.
In the top of the ninth inning.
Well, a little while ago, when we mentioned that this one, in typical fashion, was going right to the wire, little did we know.
Mark Ditbar throws. Here's a swing and a high five.
Barra going deep to let the state do it.
Back to the wall goes Barra. It is.
And that's home run, the final spin.
Ladies and gentlemen, Masurowski has hit a one-nothing pitch over the left field fence at Ford Field to win the 1960 World Series for the Pittsburgh Pirates by a score of 10 to nothing.
Once again, that final score.
The Pittsburgh Pirates, the 1960 World Champions, defeat the New York Yankees, the Pirates 10, and the Yankees 9.
In the Pirate Clubhouse, Bob Prince conducted the locker room interviews.
Beat the Bucs. Can't beat the Bucs. Can they? No, sir. Can't beat the bad Bucs. I'll tell you that.
That's for sure.
Yes, sir. Yes, sir.
We got them. We got them. They broke all the records and we won the game. I'll tell you that.
There's a going. They broke all the records and we won the game.
We won the game. Right here.
Yeah, that's it. Here's the president of the ball club, Mr. John Galbraith. And, Mr. Galbraith.
I just want to ask you one question. You ask me. Have we paid our debt to the city, the people of Pittsburgh?
I think you have it. You've given your voice to it, too, haven't you?
Because everything got gone. You wouldn't trade a Kentucky Derby victory for this, John.
You're trying to get me when I'm vulnerable.
And the commissioner of baseball, ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Ford Frick.
Commissioner, without question, one of the most exciting World Series in all time.
This is my 39th, and I never saw a finish like that one, Bob. Never.
Here's Danny Mertai. You Irishman, you did it.
By golly, Bob, what a finish. But we've been doing that all year, and I think the fans are looking forward to it.
Well, thank you very much, Dan, John Galbraith. And I'll just say thank you to everybody.
I hope you fans have enjoyed hearing from the very happy world champion, Pittsburgh Pirates.
The headline in the Pittsburgh Post Gazette read, We had them all the way.
And the Pittsburgh press told it this way. City of champs flips lid.
There was never anything like the all-night celebration staged in the streets of Pittsburgh.
It was VE and VJ Day. The Mardi Gras and New Year's Eve all rolled into one.
The celebrations extended to Addis Ababa and Timbuktu.
Those crazy 1960 pirates were indeed the most impossible pirates of them all.
The Mardi Gras and New Year's Eve all rolled into one.
You