that’s exactly what Sparky had hoped for when he put Joe’s locker next to Pete’s. That was in 1972, when the Reds traded for Joe. Nobody in Cincinnati liked the trade, not even Sparky.The Reds traded Lee May, a team leader and powerful hitter, and Tommy Helms, a Cincinnati boy, for a pack of players, headlined by Joe Morgan.
And who was Joe Morgan? He was no headliner, that’s for sure. About the only thing most Cincinnati fans knew about Joe was that he hit .256 the year before. About the only thing that Sparky knew about Joe was that he was supposed to be selfish, moody, and a general pain in the ass. Anyway, that’s what the Houston manager said about him. Of course, the Houston manager was Harry Walker—“Harry the Hat” everyone called him—from Pascagoula, Mississippi. Harry the Hat won a batting title in 1947, which coincidentally was the same year that he and his brother Dixie and the St. Louis Cardinals tried to form a league-wide boycott to protest the arrival of Jackie Robinson, the first black man to play in the major leagues in the twentieth century. The boycott was crushed, and Harry the Hat was traded to Philadelphia that May. Walker would say that he mended his ways and opened his heart. But Joe noticed that when he was around, Harry the Hat would say something like, “It will be a black day before I…whoops, didn’t mean to say that, Joe, you know, figure of speech.”
No, Sparky did not like the trade much. But it wasn’t his job to like trades…it was his job to make do. “I just want you to know that whatever happened in Houston is over,” Sparky told Joe when they met. “You get a fresh start here.” And he had the clubhouse kids put Joe’s stuff in the locker right next to Pete’s. Sparky hoped that whatever the hell it was that drove Pete Rose to the baseball edge might rub off on Joe Morgan.
It worked. It worked better than Sparky could have ever dreamed. “Damn, I’m a genius,” Sparky would tell friends. Joe Morgan, almost overnight, became best friends with Pete. And Joe Morgan, almost overnight, became one of the best players in baseball. He hit more homers, stole more bases, scored more runs than he had ever done before. “That little man can do everything,” Sparky said, and he hadreal wonder in his voice. The next year, 1973, Joe was even better. Year after that, 1974, Joe was even better than that.
He really could do everything. Joe could beat teams more ways than anyone else around. Take 1974. Joe had a .427 on-base percentage, which led the league. On-base percentage is probably the most important single baseball statistic because it tells you how often a player gets on base (and conversely, perhaps more importantly, how rarely he makes an out). While Joe had never batted .300—which was what the fans and reporters mostly cared about—he had reached base more than 40 percent of the time each of his years with the Reds. He drew 120 walks in 1974, second in the league. He stole 58 bases, third in the league. He hit 22 home runs—one of those to beat the Dodgers late in the year when the Reds were still fighting for the championship. He won the Gold Glove for his superior defense at second base. And his attitude? “Smartest player I ever coached,” Sparky gushed endlessly to reporters about the greatness of Joe Morgan. Sparky overflowed with the faith of the converted.
How much of Joe’s transformation was inspired by his pal Pete Rose? Well, Pete did have a way of getting inside people. “You had to be around Pete every day to understand,” Joe would say. “We all loved baseball. Doggie, Johnny, me—we all loved the game. But I think any of us would tell you that Pete loved it a little bit more. It changed me to be around that.”
Something black and primal drove Pete Rose. Take the All-Star thing. In 1970, they played the All-Star Game in Cincinnati, and the game stretched into extra innings. In the twelfth, Pete led off second, and his teammate Jim
And who was Joe Morgan? He was no headliner, that’s for sure. About the only thing most Cincinnati fans knew about Joe was that he hit .256 the year before. About the only thing that Sparky knew about Joe was that he was supposed to be selfish, moody, and a general pain in the ass. Anyway, that’s what the Houston manager said about him. Of course, the Houston manager was Harry Walker—“Harry the Hat” everyone called him—from Pascagoula, Mississippi. Harry the Hat won a batting title in 1947, which coincidentally was the same year that he and his brother Dixie and the St. Louis Cardinals tried to form a league-wide boycott to protest the arrival of Jackie Robinson, the first black man to play in the major leagues in the twentieth century. The boycott was crushed, and Harry the Hat was traded to Philadelphia that May. Walker would say that he mended his ways and opened his heart. But Joe noticed that when he was around, Harry the Hat would say something like, “It will be a black day before I…whoops, didn’t mean to say that, Joe, you know, figure of speech.”
No, Sparky did not like the trade much. But it wasn’t his job to like trades…it was his job to make do. “I just want you to know that whatever happened in Houston is over,” Sparky told Joe when they met. “You get a fresh start here.” And he had the clubhouse kids put Joe’s stuff in the locker right next to Pete’s. Sparky hoped that whatever the hell it was that drove Pete Rose to the baseball edge might rub off on Joe Morgan.
It worked. It worked better than Sparky could have ever dreamed. “Damn, I’m a genius,” Sparky would tell friends. Joe Morgan, almost overnight, became best friends with Pete. And Joe Morgan, almost overnight, became one of the best players in baseball. He hit more homers, stole more bases, scored more runs than he had ever done before. “That little man can do everything,” Sparky said, and he hadreal wonder in his voice. The next year, 1973, Joe was even better. Year after that, 1974, Joe was even better than that.
He really could do everything. Joe could beat teams more ways than anyone else around. Take 1974. Joe had a .427 on-base percentage, which led the league. On-base percentage is probably the most important single baseball statistic because it tells you how often a player gets on base (and conversely, perhaps more importantly, how rarely he makes an out). While Joe had never batted .300—which was what the fans and reporters mostly cared about—he had reached base more than 40 percent of the time each of his years with the Reds. He drew 120 walks in 1974, second in the league. He stole 58 bases, third in the league. He hit 22 home runs—one of those to beat the Dodgers late in the year when the Reds were still fighting for the championship. He won the Gold Glove for his superior defense at second base. And his attitude? “Smartest player I ever coached,” Sparky gushed endlessly to reporters about the greatness of Joe Morgan. Sparky overflowed with the faith of the converted.
How much of Joe’s transformation was inspired by his pal Pete Rose? Well, Pete did have a way of getting inside people. “You had to be around Pete every day to understand,” Joe would say. “We all loved baseball. Doggie, Johnny, me—we all loved the game. But I think any of us would tell you that Pete loved it a little bit more. It changed me to be around that.”
Something black and primal drove Pete Rose. Take the All-Star thing. In 1970, they played the All-Star Game in Cincinnati, and the game stretched into extra innings. In the twelfth, Pete led off second, and his teammate Jim
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