The Great Gator Flop

I was looking for a video of soccer flops to express my disdain with soccer players.  I found this instead.

The "Gator flop" occurred during a 1971 NCAA football game between the Florida Gators and Miami Hurricanes. In the final minutes of the game, Gator John Reavesneeded to throw just another 14 yards to break the all-time NCAA career passing record. The members of the Gators' defense dropped to the turf so that the Hurricanes could gain possession and take the ball to the other end of the field. After the Hurricanes scored a touchdown, the Gators recovered the ball and Reaves threw a pass to break the record.

Joe Delaney: A Real American Hero

Don't know why, but I woke up this morning thinking about Joe Delaney. And it occurred to me, that many of you probably don't know his story. So I thought I'd share it.

Joe Alton Delaney was a football player who played two seasons in the National Football League. In his two seasons with the Chiefs, Delaney set four franchise records that would stand for over 20 years.He was a two-time All-American athlete for the Northwestern State Demons football team, as well as a track and field star. Delaney played two seasons with the Kansas City Chiefs, and was chosen as the AFC Rookie of the Year in 1981 by United Press International.

Delaney had a lifelong history of helping others, and once paid for the funeral of a former teacher whose family could not afford a proper service. Delaney, who was at the time living in nearby Ruston, Louisiana, went to Critter's Creeks, an amusement park at Chennault Park in Monroe, Louisiana, with friends on June 29, 1983 and had encouraged children that were swimming not to go far out in the pond. The amusement park has since been closed to the public. Delaney dived into a pond and tried to save three children who were screaming for help. The children were floundering in a water hole left by recent construction work. The water hole, which covered two acres and was 20 feet deep, was not intended to be a swimming pond but instead to be used to add aesthetics. Despite his inexperience in swimming, Delaney tried to rescue the children.

"Can you swim?" a little boy asked Joe. "I can't swim good but I've got to save those kids. If I don't come up, get somebody." Unfortunate for the rest of the world and the Kansas City Chiefs, those were the last words of Joe Delaney as he died while trying to save the kids. One of the boys was able to find his way to the shore. The two others and Delaney did not.

Three thousand people attended Delaney's burial and memorial service on July 4 which was held in Haughton High School's gymnasium. President Ronald Reagan honored Delaney with the Presidential Citizens Medal on July 15, and it was presented to Delaney's family by Vice President George H. W. Bush. Reagan's words were:

“ He made the ultimate sacrifice by placing the lives of three children above regard for his own safety. By the supreme example of courage and compassion, this brilliantly gifted young man left a spiritual legacy for his fellow Americans."

Dock Ellis & The LSD No-No

True story:

In celebration of the greatest athletic achievement by a man on a psychedelic journey, No Mas and artist James Blagden proudly present the animated tale of Dock Ellis' legendary LSD no-hitter. In the past few years we've heard all too much about performance enhancing drugs from greenies to tetrahydrogestrinone, and not enough about performance inhibiting drugs. If our evaluation of the records of athletes like Mark McGwire, Roger Clemens, Marion Jones, and Barry Bonds needs to be revised downwards with an asterisk, we submit that that Dock Ellis record deserves a giant exclamation point. Of the 263 no-hitters ever thrown in the Big Leagues, we can only guess how many were aided by steroids, but we can say without question that only one was ever thrown on acid.

Sadly, the great Dock Ellis died last December at 63. A year before, radio producers Donnell Alexander and Neille Ilel, had recorded an interview with Ellis in which the former Pirate right hander gave a moment by moment account of June 12, 1970, the day he no-hit the San Diego Padres. Alexander and Ilels original four minute piece appeared March 29, 2008 on NPRs Weekend America. When we stumbled across that piece this past June, Blagden and Isenberg were inspired to create a short animated film around the original audio.

29 Years Ago Today - Do You Believe in Miracles?

Hard to imagine it's been so long. 29 years ago today the United States of America amateur hockey team defeated a team of Russian professionals during the winter Olympics in what has to be the greatest upset in sports history. It lifted a nation. It was nothing short of surreal.

This video is a newly discovered original call of the game by Curt Chaplin who was covering the game as a sports reporter for the ABC Radio Network. Standing on a camera platform in the crowd, he did play-by-play of the entire game into his tape recorder, capturing the event on tape forever. Now, after 25 years, these tapes have been rediscovered and matched to the video.



Reading the write up on Youtube about how this video was put together, many thanks go out to Curt Chaplin, the man who was calling this game. It sounds as if he were there all by himself as ABC did not broadcast the game live on TV. It was tape-delayed. As I kid, I guess I didn't know this. Mr. Chaplin is an unsung hero in this story.

Here are some of the Youtube comments that shed more light on what it must have been like for those listening live on radio:

"Heard last 5 minutes of game on radio driving home and almost wrecked. had to pull over for the last minute and could hardly move when it was over. the greatest single moment in american sports history. with the pros playing in olympics now, we'll never see anything like this again."

"This is a great video especially since the original game was only heard live on the RADIO. The game was played around rush hour and ABC decided to delay the video broadcast. I was in Boston screaming at a radio. People pulled over and wouldn't go thru the tunnels, they pulled over on the Mass Pike. My husband and I had just graduated from BU Law and 4 of our Terriers were on that team so we were invested big time. It was fun finally SEE the game, but the original broadcast was on the RADIO."

Cardinals Get Hosed - Harrison's Arm was Down Short of the Endzone

Fast forward to about 2:20 and look at his arm on the ground and the ball behind that. And no, it is not on the Cardinals players leg. This was not a touchdown.

Pittsburgh Puts Football Ahead of Education - Delays School Because of Game

And this is the city that wonders why all its jobs keep leaving. Memo to Pittsburgh...Generally speaking, employers don't like to hire morons.

Regardless of which team prevails in the Super Bowl, students in the Pittsburgh Public Schools might consider themselves winners.

The school district yesterday said it will operate on a two-hour delay Monday, not because of ice, snow or freezing temperatures but because folks will be up late Sunday watching the big game.

The district, which also operated on a two-hour delay the day after the Steelers won Super Bowl XL three years ago, called the delay a safety precaution. Chief of Staff Lisa Fischetti said bus companies will have extra time to get vehicles on the road and to children waiting at bus stops.

Generally, two-hour weather delays are for students, not teachers and support staff, Pittsburgh Federation of Teachers President John Tarka said. But he noted that Monday's delay will be for PFT-represented employees too.

Report: Michael Phelps Caught on Camera Smoking a Bong

First Obama's brother, and now this? The munchies aren't going to help keep the weight off.



This story is subject to verification. You shouldn't exactly trust this source.

Fan Walks On Court During Providence vs. Marquette Game

Actually, the fan was the brother of the injured player, Jeff Xavier. He was arrested. Dude, get a bigger coat you thug.

Jeff Xavier gets a hit by Joseph Fulce and Xavier's brother walks on the court afterwards.

THE DAY DISCO DIED: DISCO DEMOLITION NIGHT

Background from Wikipedia:

Disco Demolition Night

Disco Demolition Night was a promotional event that took place on July 12, 1979, at Comiskey Park in Chicago. It was held during a scheduled twi-night doubleheader between the Chicago White Sox and the Detroit Tigers. During the event, rowdy fans surged onto the field, and a near riot ensued. It would ultimately prove to be one of the most notable promotional ideas and one of the most infamous since "Ten Cent Beer Night" in Cleveland in 1974.

Local radio station WDAI went to an all-disco format, and fired popular disk jockey Steve Dahl. Dahl was subsequently hired by rival station WLUP. He created a mock organization called "The Insane Coho Lips Anti-Disco Army" to oppose disco, in which Dahl and partner Garry Meier regularly mocked and heaped scorn on disco records on the air. Dahl also recorded his own parody, Do You Think I'm Disco? (a satire of Rod Stewart's, Da Ya Think I'm Sexy?).

Meanwhile, on May 2, the Tigers-White Sox game in Chicago was rained out. League rules called for the game to be made up at the clubs' next meeting in Chicago. July 12 was to have been a single, Thursday night game to kick off a four-game weekend series, the last series before the All-Star Break. The first meeting was switched to a doubleheader, and the extra game resulted in the unusual situation of a five-game series. (The White Sox would end up losing four of the five games.)

Dahl and Meier, in conjunction with Mike Veeck (son of then Chicago White Sox owner Bill Veeck), Dave Logan, WLUP Promotion Director, and Jeff Schwartz WLUP Sales Manager, devised a promotion that involved people bringing unwanted disco music records to the game in exchange for an admission fee of 98¢, representing the station's location on the dial, 97.9. The records would be collected, placed in a large crate in center field, and blown up by Dahl.

The turnout for this promotion far exceeded all expectations. White Sox management was hoping for an additional crowd of 5,000, but a total of 75,000+ turned up instead. Thousands of people were climbing walls and fences in order to get into Comiskey Park and others were locked out and off-ramps to the stadium from the Dan Ryan Expressway were closed when the stadium was filled to capacity and beyond.

White Sox TV announcers Harry Caray and Jimmy Piersall commented freely on the "strange people" wandering aimlessly in the stands. Mike Veeck recalled that the pregame air was heavy with the scent of marijuana. When the crate on the field was filled with records, staff stopped collecting them from spectators who soon realized that long-playing (LP) records were shaped like Frisbees. They began to throw their records from the stands during the game, and the records often struck other fans. The fans also threw beer and even firecrackers from the stands.

After the first game, Dahl, dressed in army fatigues and helmet, along with a female sidekick named Lorelei and bodyguards, went out to center field. The large box containing the collected records was rigged with a bomb. When it exploded, the bomb tore a hole in the outfield grass surface and thousands of fans immediately rushed the field. Some lit fires and started small-scale riots. The batting cage was pulled down and wrecked, and the bases literally stolen, along with chunks of the field itself. The crowd, once on the field, mostly wandered around aimlessly, though a number of participants burned banners, sat on the grass or ran from security and police. People sitting in the upper deck could feel it sway back and forth from the rioters.

Veeck and Caray used the public address system to implore the fans to leave the field immediately, but to no avail. Eventually, the field was cleared by the Chicago Police in riot gear. Six people reported minor injuries and thirty-nine were arrested for disorderly conduct. Tigers' manager Sparky Anderson refused to field his team citing safety concerns, which resulted in the forfeiture by the White Sox to the Tigers. The remaining games in the series were played, but for the rest of the season fielders and managers complained about the poor condition of the field.

For White Sox outfielder Rusty Torres (who had singled and scored the only Chicago run in a 4-1 loss in the first game), it was nothing new: Disco Demolition Night was actually the third time in his career he had personally seen a forfeit-inducing riot. He had been playing for the New York Yankees at the last Senators game in Washington in 1971, and a Cleveland Indian at the infamous Ten Cent Beer Night in Cleveland in 1974.

At least one writer characterized this event, referencing "American Pie", as "The Day Disco Died".

According to the 1986 book "Rock of Ages: The Rolling Stone history of Rock and Roll" the event was the "emblematic moment" of the anti-disco "crusade" and noted that "the following year disco had peaked as a commercial blockbuster".

Steve Dahl himself said in an interview with Keith Olbermann that disco "was a fad probably on its way out" but that the event "hastened its demise."

Here's footage from local news coverage:

IN 1976, "BIRD" WAS THE WORD

One of my earliest baseball memories...

"He's like the little boy that's thrown into a pile of horse manure and he's bobbin' up and down and they say how can you be so happy and he says there has to be a pony in here somewhere. His glass is always half full," says former Boston Red Sox pitcher Bill Lee about Mark Fidrych, the darling of baseball in 1976 on ESPN Classic's SportsCentury series.

It was over almost before it began. The phenomenon that was Mark Fidrych lasted only one year. But what a season 1976 was for the charismatic Detroit Tigers pitcher known as "The Bird."

Andy Messersmith's challenge to the reserve clause had led to a spring-training lockout and the end of the traditional structure of teams' contractual relationships with their players. The future was uncertain. Fans were confused. But along came Fidrych -- wiggling and jiggling on the mound, talking to the ball, discarding balls with which opposing batters had managed a hit, chasing away groundskeepers so he could landscape and groom the mound himself, shaking hands with teammates after outstanding plays. And winning.

The Tigers were the worst team in the majors in 1975, going 57-102. Fidrych, a non-roster player, made the team the next spring training even though he lost his only decision and his ERA was 4.66. With Fidrych's wardrobe consisting of T-shirts and cutoff jeans, general manager Jim Campbell bought his 21-year-old pitcher several suits.

For the first five weeks of the season, Fidrych languished in the bullpen, being called to relieve only twice. Then on May 15, manager Ralph Houk gave the 6-foot-3, 175-pound righthander his first major league start -- but only because Fidrych's roommate, pitcher Joe Coleman, had to be scratched because he had the flu.

Fidrych responded brilliantly, retiring the first 14 Cleveland Indians and flirting with a no-hitter until the seventh inning. He finished with a two-hitter and a 2-1 victory.

After losing to the Boston Red Sox, 2-0, 10 days later, he reeled off eight straight wins, including back-to-back 11-inning complete games. (He added another 11-inning game later in the season.) The Tigers responded admirably, winning four of Fidrych's first five starts in their last at-bat, while the rest of the American League scratched its collective head.


At the end of the season, Fidrych had a 19-9 record, league-leading figures in ERA (2.34) and complete games (24), a Rookie of the Year award, and the uncommon distinction of having started the All-Star Game as a rookie.

The Tigers, who finished fifth with a 74-87 record (.460), were 55-78 (.413) in games in which Fidrych wasn't involved in the decision. If Fidrych's 250 innings were removed, the team ERA of 3.87 would have soared to 4.19. And, perhaps most gratifying of all to the front office, "The Bird" was a financial godsend

Fidrych, in his 18 pitching starts at Tiger Stadium, drew 605,677 paying customers, more than 40 percent of the year's total.
for a franchise that was otherwise hard put to persuade fans that climbing out of the cellar was an endeavor worth watching first-hand.

In his 29 starts, Fidrych drew 901,239 fans. At Tiger Stadium, his 18 pitching turns drew 605,677 paying customers, more than 40 percent of the year's total. According to one Wall Street Journal analyst, Fidrych was personally responsible for $1 million of team revenue. And he was fully aware of his impact, posting on his locker a running total of the crowds that attended when he pitched.

But, for the fans, it was his style that was most appealing. The stories are innumerable. At first, no one knew what to make of his antics. Initially resentful over what they thought was an effort to show them up, opposing batters came to realize there was nothing false or calculating about Fidrych. (The best response came from Cleveland outfielder John Lowenstein who said that the next time Fidrych talked to the ball, he was going to ask the umpire to confiscate it and find out what the pitcher had said.)

And it wasn't just his on-field antics that appealed. He habitually stuck his finger in the coin return slot of the pay phone in the clubhouse just in case someone had neglected to retrieve his dime. He spit tobacco juice all over his uniform to show he was one of the boys. When he forgot his own and needed identification so he could buy a drink, he borrowed teammates' IDs, whether he shared even a remote physical likeness with the lender.

He shared a hometown friend's affection for a dance called the Fried Egg, in which he would lay down on the dance floor and roll around. He worried aloud that his major league minimum salary ($16,500) wouldn't be enough for him to buy stamps to answer his fan mail. He reminded everyone that, if he weren't in the majors, he would be pumping gas back in Northboro, Mass.

Despite his protestations to the contrary, most people simply described the manic, lanky righthander with the Harpo Marx haircut as a bona-fide flake.

Fidrych was born on Aug. 14, 1954, in Worcester, Mass. Trained by his father Paul, an assistant school principal, Fidrych was a pitcher in the pickup games among his friends but a shortstop in his first year of American Legion ball. It wasn't until his second season, when a friend took his position away, that he asked his coach, Ted Rolfe, if he could pitch.

Amazed at the boy's skill and poise on the mound, Rolfe asked why he hadn't said he was a pitcher.

"Because you didn't ask," Fidrych replied.

At Algonquin Regional High and Worcester Academy, where he spent his senior year in 1974, Fidrych pitched and played first and the outfield, but neither Rolfe nor Worcester coach Tom Blackburn viewed him as a major league prospect. On weekends during the school year, Fidrych pumped gas at a Sunoco station.

His break came when the Tigers selected him in the 10th round of the draft following his senior season. Signed by Detroit scout Joe Cusick for a $3,000 bonus, which he spent on car payments and unpaid tuition, Fidrych reported to Bristol of the Rookie Appalachian League. In 23 games, all in relief, he went 3-0 with a 2.38 ERA and struck out 40 in 34 innings.

In 1975, he mostly started and worked his way through three teams in three classifications - Lakeland in the Class A Florida State League (5-9, 3.77), Montgomery of the Double-A Southern League (2-0, 3.21 as a closer), and Evansville of the Triple-A American Association (4-1, 1.59) -- and improved at each level. It was Lakeland coach Jeff Hogan who nicknamed Fidrych "Bird," because he reminded him of Big Bird on Sesame Street.

Then it was off to the majors, where everything his father had taught him paid off in 1976, when his fastball and slider tamed American League hitters. After this phenomenal season, the Tigers gave Fidrych a $25,000 bonus and signed him to a three-year deal worth $225,000.

About his antics, Fidrych said he wasn't talking to the baseball; he was actually talking to himself, reminding himself of what he wanted to do with each pitch.

And then, before you really got to know The Bird, his career was over.

Fidrych went 19-9 and was named an All-Star in his rookie season of 1976.
During spring training in 1977, he tore cartilage in his knee and went on the disabled list until May 24. Then in July he tore something in his shoulder because he had altered his pitching motion. He went on the DL for the rest of the season with his 6-4 record and 2.89 ERA.

Over the next three years, Fidrych appeared in only 16 games, going 4-6. His major league career ended in 1980 with a record of 29-19 and a 3.10 ERA.

He tried a comeback with the Red Sox's top farm club in Pawtucket in 1982 and 1983; it didn't work out. He had his rotator cuff operated on in 1985 by Dr. James Andrews. But while his enthusiasm never waned, the 93-mile-an-hour fastball never returned.

Fidrych lives with his wife Ann, whom he married in 1986, and their 13-year-old daughter Jessica on a 107-acre farm in Northboro. Aside from fixing up his farmhouse, he works as a contractor hauling gravel and asphalt in a ten-wheeler.

MOST BIZARRE BASEBALL INJURIES

Adam Eaton was trying to remove that annoying security tape on a DVD with a paring knife and wound up stabbing himself in the stomach.

Glenallen Hill, who suffers from a morbid fear of spiders, was snoozing on the couch when he had a nightmare about the eight-legged creatures. While trying to get away, he rolled off the couch and fell through a glass coffee table, suffering deep cuts to several parts of his body.

Charlie Hough broke his pinky finger while shaking hands.

Mickey Tettleton went on the DL with a severe case of athlete's foot - caused by tying his shoes too tight.

Jose Cardenal missed a game in 1972 because he was kept awake all night by crickets chirping in his hotel room.

Jose Cardenal missed a game in 1974, because he couldn't blink. He swore his eyes were stuck open.

Bob Feller scalded himself with 200-degree water after he lost control of the hose in a whirlpool. He scalded himself from the waste down, and couldn't do anything for a week.

Russ Davis missed a game after he slept wrong and awoke with a sore shoulder.

David Cone missed a start after getting bit by his mother-in-law's dog, a Jack Russell Terrier.

Jim Corsi slipped coming out of the shower and sprained his wrist. Corsi has poor eyesight, wasn't wearing contacts, and misjudged his step.

Bob Stanley missed a couple of games slipping down the stairs while taking out the trash.

Carlos Perez broke his nose in a car accident....as he was trying to pass the team bus.

Brian Anderson suffered nerve damage in his elbow after a cab ride.

Rickey Henderson missed several games because of frost- bite. In August.

Vince Coleman missed the 1985 World Series when he got rolled up in the tarp machine.

Pascual Perez missed a start in Atlanta when he circled the city for more than two hours searching for the exit ramp from Highway 285 to Fulton County Stadium.

Kevin Mitchell strained a muscle while vomiting.

Twins farmhand David Foster was knocked out for the season when a lightning strike through a phone line zapped him while he was making a call.

Pitcher Steve Foster injured his shoulder knocking over milk bottles during a segment with Jay Leno on "The Tonight Show."

Wade Boggs missed several games after straining his back while pulling on his cowboy boots.

Paul Molitor dislocated a knuckle when it got stuck in another player's glove.

Milwaukee's Dave Nilsson missed part of this season with Ross River Fever, a mosquito-borne virus that annually affects 200 out of Australia's 17 million residents.

Twins general manager Terry Ryan required dozens of stitches when he was scouting a game and a bat flew out of the hitter's hands, sailed through a space in the backstop and struck him in the forehead.

Pitcher Jeff Juden had a start early in the 1994 season pushed back after getting an infection from a tattoo.

Outfielder Bret Barberie missed a game when he accidentally rubbed chili juice in his eye.

Ken Griffey Jr. missed a game after his protective cup slipped and pinched a testicle.

Pitcher Steve Sparks dislocated his shoulder while tearing a phone book in half, as he was trying to emulate a motivational speaker.

Reliever Larry Anderson strained a rib muscle getting out of a Jucuzzi.

Florida's Randy Veres hurt his hand pounding on a hotelroom wall trying to get the people in the next room to quiet down.

Dennis Martinez injured his arm tossing his luggage onto the team bus. He was diagnosed with Samsonitis.

Chris Brown missed a game with a strained eyelid after sleeping on an eye a funny way.

Former Seattle shortstop Rey Quinones was unavailable as a pinch-hitter because he was in the clubhouse playing Nintendo.

Terry Harper (Atlanta, OF) injured his shoulder after giving another player a high five.

Greg Harris (Texas, pitcher) injured his shoulder trying to flick sunflower seeds into the stands from the bullpen.

SUPERFRO: OSCAR GAMBLE SURE COULD "PICK" IT

Not sure why, but this morning, I woke up thinking of Oscar Gamble. So I figured I'd write this. Lest he be forgotten.

Oscar Gamble was a former outfielder and designated hitter in Major League Baseball. He played for 17 seasons, from 1969 to 1985, on seven different teams: the Chicago White Sox and New York Yankees on two separate occasions, as well as the Chicago Cubs, Philadelphia Phillies, Cleveland Indians, San Diego Padres, and Texas Rangers. Nicknamed the Big O by Yankees announcer Phil Rizzuto, Gamble was a relatively small man, listed at 5 feet, 11 inches tall and 165 pounds. He still hit 200 career home runs in just over 4500 major league at bats, an impressive ratio for the era he played in.

Despite his hitting prowess, however, Gamble is known more for what is, without question, the largest afro the game has ever seen.

Simply put, there was no batting helmet that contain it and no ball cap that could tame it. And for an entire generation of boys, Gamble's hair stands as a symbol for all that was right with the world. Of such awe was his fro, that it was not uncommon for Gamble's baseball cards to demand a hefty, if not skewed premium, on the trading market. Tales of a 1976 Topps Gamble card being traded for 2 Pete Roses, a Steve Garvey and a fro to be named later (usually Base McBride) were not at all uncommon.

To be sure, there were other great afros in the game. The aforementioned Bake McBride, Enos Cabell, Tito Fuentes and others, but none captured the imagination of Gamble's. Gamble's fro was like a living, breathing and thinking organism. Like a chia pet with a dream. Like pond algae with a statement to make. To boys of that generation, there were only three certainties in life -- Summer, School, and Oscar Gamble's afro.

The lure and intrigue of Gamble's fro has remained with many of those who grew up during that era of baseball. For many, Gamble's afro is one of their most vivid memories of the game. So much so that an "Oscar Gamble Society" has been formed in Chicago. As best I can tell, the "Society" consists of a number of middle-aged folks who like to get together, put on afro wigs, and drink beer. And I can't think of any greater legacy that can be left by a ball player.

THE GREATEST PLAY IN BASEBALL HISTORY: RICK MONDAY - A TRUE AMERICAN HERO

32 years ago today, Rick Monday makes the greatest play in Baseball history...

Monday was playing center field for the Chicago Cubs on April 25, 1976, at Dodger Stadium when he noticed two protesters kneeling on the grass in left-center, intending to burn the American flag. He immediately bolted toward them and snatched it away.

"I was angry when I saw them start to do something to the flag, and I'm glad that I happened to be geographically close enough to do something about it," said Monday, now in his 13th season as a Dodgers broadcaster.

"What those people were doing, and their concept of what they were trying to do was wrong. That feeling was very strongly reinforced by six years in the United States Marine Corps Reserves. I still think it's wrong to do that."

THE EDDIE GAEDEL EXPERIMENT

The most publicized stunt in baseball history took place August 19, 1951, at Sportsman's Park in St. Louis, when, to the surprise of 18,369 fans, 3'7" 65-lb midget Eddie Gaedel emerged from a seven-foot birthday cake between games of a Browns-Tigers doubleheader. Browns owner Bill Veeck concocted the idea to boost attendance, and to help celebrate the 50th anniversary of both the American League and the Falstaff Brewing Co., radio sponsor of the Browns.

Gaedel, a stage performer, was wearing a Browns uniform with the number 1/8, and little slippers turned up at the end like elf's shoes. In the bottom of the first, St. Louis manager Zach Taylor sent Gaedel to the plate to pinch hit for Frank Saucier. Veeck had instructed the diminutive Brownie to crouch low, and not swing his toy-like bat. Detroit skipper Red Rolfe protested Gaedel's presence, but Taylor produced a legitimate contract, filed with the AL and cleared by umpire Ed Hurley.

In his stance, Gaedel's strike zone measured 1-1/2 inches. Detroit pitcher Bob Cain walked the midget, throwing four straight balls. When Jim Delsing went in to run for him, the crowd gave Gaedel a standing ovation. The Browns lost, 6-2, despite Gaedel's instant offense. AL president Will Harridge was furious with Veeck's burlesque and unsuccessfully tried to strike Gaedel's name from the record books. Gaedel was paid $100 for his appearance, and was insured for $1 million by Veeck. In future years Veeck used him in a few other promotions.

Eddie Gaedel