Becoming Mr. October (9780385533126) by Kevin Reggie; Baker Jackson Page A
Authors: Kevin Reggie; Baker Jackson
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they had a lineup that was almost all right-handed. Davey Lopes, Steve Garvey, Dusty Baker, Ron Cey—all right-handers—and then Reggie Smith, who was a switch-hitter. It would have been perfect—for them and for me. They were going to get right-handed pitching coming at them all the time. I could have feasted!
Los Angeles was a good spot for me in many ways, on and off the field. It was just three hundred miles from my home. My mother had moved to California by then, two of my sisters were there, my brother was there. And I knew the Dodgers wanted me. Al Campanis, their general manager, was always trying to get me in a trade. A small ballpark, in a fastball league. It was the place, dude!
Los Angeles picked me in the free-agent draft. But then they didn’t make an offer. I don’t know what they were waiting for, but they moved late. They had Maury Wills make the first call to my agent, but by that time it was too late. Things were moving too fast for them. They laid back—I never did find out why.
By then, I already had a big offer from Montreal. On behalf of the Bronfmans, John McHale, their general manager, offered me $5 million—$1 million a year for five years, with the possibility for that to go up with bonuses, incentives. They made mention of me wearing number 7, because they owned Seagram’s 7.
It would have been interesting to go to Montreal, too. The Exposalready had some terrific young talent and more on the way, guys like Tim Raines, Steve Rogers. They were an expansion team, but they wound up being a contender within another couple years. Hitting between a couple of righties like Andre Dawson and Ellis Valentine, I might’ve made the difference, and they had just hired my old manager from Oakland, Dick Williams, who I always got along with and respected.
But I don’t know, I just wanted to stay in this country. America just seemed … more like major-league baseball. I just thought it was important for me to play in the United States. And while I was considering the Bronfmans’ offer, my agent, Gary Walker, told me, “There’s a lot more money in New York than in Montreal.” He said, “With your career, and your skills, you should play with the Yankees. It’s a franchise with a great legacy. Ruth, Gehrig, DiMaggio, and Mantle. Yogi and Whitey. You should play in New York.”
New York. Gary also told me, “I don’t know if you’ll
like
New York, but …”
Because I was a small-town kid. I’d grown up in a small town in Pennsylvania, lived in a small city in Oakland, lived in Berkeley. Oakland had one newspaper. There were a few others, like the
San Francisco Chronicle
, the San Francisco
Examiner
, the
Berkeley Gazette
, the
Sacramento Bee
, the
San Jose Mercury News
. But that was about it—and sometimes the San Francisco papers didn’t cover our games.
New York was something else. I wasn’t sure I was interested. And they weren’t interested in me.
I wasn’t the Yankees’ first pick in the free-agent draft. The one they went right out and signed first was Don Gullett, the pitcher for the Reds who’d just shut them down in the World Series. After that, Joe Rudi was Billy Martin’s choice. George Steinbrenner and Gabe Paul, the Yankees’ general manager, wanted to sign Bobby Grich and move him from second base back to shortstop, where he’d played in the minors.
I couldn’t blame them. I came up with Rudi. I played with himfor years and saw how great he was. An underrated player, but a great player. Good hitter, played well in the field both at first and in left. A complete player. He would’ve fit in very nicely with the Yankees.
Bobby Grich, I played with him in Baltimore, then later with the Angels. He was a terrific player, very athletic. He was one of the best defensive second basemen in our era. The Orioles only moved Grich out of shortstop because they already had Mark Belanger. He was also a great offensive player, and hit for power.
Some people thought
Los Angeles was a good spot for me in many ways, on and off the field. It was just three hundred miles from my home. My mother had moved to California by then, two of my sisters were there, my brother was there. And I knew the Dodgers wanted me. Al Campanis, their general manager, was always trying to get me in a trade. A small ballpark, in a fastball league. It was the place, dude!
Los Angeles picked me in the free-agent draft. But then they didn’t make an offer. I don’t know what they were waiting for, but they moved late. They had Maury Wills make the first call to my agent, but by that time it was too late. Things were moving too fast for them. They laid back—I never did find out why.
By then, I already had a big offer from Montreal. On behalf of the Bronfmans, John McHale, their general manager, offered me $5 million—$1 million a year for five years, with the possibility for that to go up with bonuses, incentives. They made mention of me wearing number 7, because they owned Seagram’s 7.
It would have been interesting to go to Montreal, too. The Exposalready had some terrific young talent and more on the way, guys like Tim Raines, Steve Rogers. They were an expansion team, but they wound up being a contender within another couple years. Hitting between a couple of righties like Andre Dawson and Ellis Valentine, I might’ve made the difference, and they had just hired my old manager from Oakland, Dick Williams, who I always got along with and respected.
But I don’t know, I just wanted to stay in this country. America just seemed … more like major-league baseball. I just thought it was important for me to play in the United States. And while I was considering the Bronfmans’ offer, my agent, Gary Walker, told me, “There’s a lot more money in New York than in Montreal.” He said, “With your career, and your skills, you should play with the Yankees. It’s a franchise with a great legacy. Ruth, Gehrig, DiMaggio, and Mantle. Yogi and Whitey. You should play in New York.”
New York. Gary also told me, “I don’t know if you’ll
like
New York, but …”
Because I was a small-town kid. I’d grown up in a small town in Pennsylvania, lived in a small city in Oakland, lived in Berkeley. Oakland had one newspaper. There were a few others, like the
San Francisco Chronicle
, the San Francisco
Examiner
, the
Berkeley Gazette
, the
Sacramento Bee
, the
San Jose Mercury News
. But that was about it—and sometimes the San Francisco papers didn’t cover our games.
New York was something else. I wasn’t sure I was interested. And they weren’t interested in me.
I wasn’t the Yankees’ first pick in the free-agent draft. The one they went right out and signed first was Don Gullett, the pitcher for the Reds who’d just shut them down in the World Series. After that, Joe Rudi was Billy Martin’s choice. George Steinbrenner and Gabe Paul, the Yankees’ general manager, wanted to sign Bobby Grich and move him from second base back to shortstop, where he’d played in the minors.
I couldn’t blame them. I came up with Rudi. I played with himfor years and saw how great he was. An underrated player, but a great player. Good hitter, played well in the field both at first and in left. A complete player. He would’ve fit in very nicely with the Yankees.
Bobby Grich, I played with him in Baltimore, then later with the Angels. He was a terrific player, very athletic. He was one of the best defensive second basemen in our era. The Orioles only moved Grich out of shortstop because they already had Mark Belanger. He was also a great offensive player, and hit for power.
Some people thought
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