Vintage Fridays: Bob Kennedy, 1955 Topps #48

I'm leaving you again! But this time I'll be back on Sunday. I'm spending the next 48 hours in Chestertown for reunion weekend at my college. There will be a roast for a pair of my old theatre professors who are retiring, some catching up with folks I haven't seen in years, a drama alumni performance (I'm a spectator, not a performer), and a beer tasting courtesy of Salisbury's own Evolution Craft Brewing Company. Oh, and my fiancee and I will be getting the authentic college experience by sleeping in a double room on campus. Yes, I waited too long to get a hotel room; why do you ask?

Since my college was founded by George Washington, I thought I'd stick with the presidential theme and show you this broken-in Bob Kennedy card. In addition to begetting late-'80s O's catcher Terry Kennedy, Bob had a long and interesting career. He debuted with the White Sox in 1939 at age 19, served in the military during World War II and the Korean War, and spent parts of 16 years in the big leagues despite a career OPS+ of 80 and a batting line of .254/.309/.355. While seeing time at third base and in the outfield corners for the 1954 Orioles, Bob was second on the team in home runs and RBI...with six and 45. The first year for the Birds in Baltimore was not an offensively robust one, to say the least. After retiring as a player, Kennedy worked in baseball through the 1992 season. He managed the Cubs (1961-1963) and Athletics (1968), and worked in the front office for the Indians, Cardinals, Cubs (general manager, 1977-1981), Astros, and Giants. Bob passed away at age 84 in 2005.

Vintage Fridays: Harry Brecheen, 1955 Topps #113

This is a card that I've had in my sights for quite some time, and now it's all mine. It's one of the oldest cards that I purchased at last month's big show, and it's just unquestionably cool and quaint for a coach to have his own card. When that coach is Harry "the Cat" Brecheen, it's all the better.

Brecheen was a native Oklahoman who did not reach the big leagues for good until joining the Cardinals at age 28 in 1943. He never posted an earned run average above 3.80, and his ERA+ was 112 or better every year. The Cat, who earned his nickname for the nimble manner in which he fielded bunts, was a mainstay on the St. Louis pitching staff for a decade, averaging 16 wins per year in a six-year span from 1944-1949. He was a two-time All-Star, including his career year in 1948: 20-7 with a league-best 2.24 ERA, 7 shutouts, 149 strikeouts, 1.04 WHIP, and 0.2 home runs allowed per 9 innings. He had a postseason record of 4-1 with an 0.83 ERA in 7 games spanning 3 World Series, with only 3 runs allowed in 32.2 innings overall. His superlative effort in the 1946 Fall Classic spurred a 7-game Cardinals triumph over the Red Sox: 3-0 with a single run allowed in 20 innings of work, including a 2-inning relief stint in the clincher just two days after a complete-game win in Game 6. His curtain call as a pitcher came in 1953, when he suited up for the crosstown Browns and suffered a 5-13 record despite a 3.07 ERA. The 38-year-old retired with a 133-92 mark in parts of 12 seasons and a 2.92 ERA.

With the Browns pulling up stakes and heading east to Baltimore in 1954, Brecheen came along to serve as the pitching coach of the now-Orioles. He must have taken to it pretty well, because he stayed in that role for 14 seasons, coaching under 5 different O's managers (Jimmy Dykes, Paul Richards, Lum Harris, Billy Hitchcock, and Hank Bauer). He cultivated the talent of young pitchers such as Billy O'Dell, Milt Pappas, Jerry Walker, Chuck Estrada, Steve Barber, and Dave McNally. He was the first coach that Jim Palmer had in the big leagues, and he stuck around just long enough to celebrate the club's first World Series title in 1966. For good measure, he even spent a couple seasons coaching Harvey Haddix at the end of the lefty's career. (Haddix was dubbed "Kitten" when he debuted with the Cardinals in 1952, a jab at his resemblance to elder teammate Brecheen.)

So there you have it, a coach's card that holds its own with the heavyweights of the 1955 Topps set.

Vintage Fridays: Ray Moore, 1955 Topps #208

It occurs to me that I know absolutely nothing about Ray Moore, other than the fact that he looks downright adorable with that renegade lock of hair dangling down from under his cap. So it's time to play:

Ten Things I Didn't Know About Ray Moore:

-He was born in Meadows, MD, near Mt. Airy.

-His nicknames included "Farmer" and "Old Blue".

-Was a pretty good hitter for a pitcher, batting .271 in 1956 and clubbing six home runs in his career.

-Had three solid years as a starting pitcher for the Orioles, winning 33 and losing 30 with a 3.93 ERA from 1955-1957. However, he didn't exactly know where his fastball was going at times; his 112 walks led the American League in 1957.

-Was signed by the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1947 and didn't make his major league debut until 1952, when he was 26. Didn't reach the majors to stay until 1955 with the O's, but had a good nine-year career from that point forward.

-Got a very tough no-decision on May 21, 1957. Ray gave up only one run, scattering eight hits and nine walks...in fifteen innings. He also struck out nine Tigers, and hit a third-inning home run off of his counterpart Jim Bunning to give the O's an early lead. After Jim Brideweser hit a one-out double in the bottom of the fifteenth, Wayne Causey pinch-hit for Moore and grounded out. The Birds stranded Brideweser in scoring position, and reliever Mike Fornieles blew the game by surrendering a run on two singles and a passed ball the very next inning. On the bright side, Ray did lower his ERA by 1.35 that day!

-In December 1957, Baltimore traded him to the White Sox in a seven-player deal. One of the players coming back to the Orioles in the swap was Hall of Famer Larry Doby. However, the O's sent Doby to Cleveland on the cusp of the 1958 season in another trade, and he never played a game in Charm City.

-Ray became a full-time reliever with the Senators/Twins from 1960-1963, and placed in the top seven in the A.L. in saves for three straight seasons with modest totals (by today's standards) of 13, 14, and 9.

-Was the first Orioles player to wear #29. Other notable 29s were reliever Dick Hall and outfielder Ken Singleton.

-He died in 1995 at age 68 and is buried at Cedar Hill Cemetery in Suitland, MD.

Vintage Fridays: Fred Marsh, 1955 Topps #13

I normally don't scan the card backs for this blog, but if I let today pass by without showing you the other side of this fifty-three year old slab of cardboard, you might think that this was just a nifty throwback to the early days of Orioles baseball. A big, pleasant smile from Fred Marsh, who seems nice enough for a career .239 hitter whose Baltimore career lasted 109 games over two seasons. He's got some really awesome stirrups, and the logo with the bizarre blob of blood-red covering the cartoon Bird's face is certainly a conversation piece. But all of these elements mask the macabre attempt at humor that lurks behind. Let's flip this one over, shall we?
As you can see, Fred's middle name is Francis. Maybe he was named after the animal-loving saint from Assisi, Italy. The big black card number inside the baseball is an eye-catcher. I'm not sure where Corry is in Pennsylvania. Let's consult Google...okay, it's way Northwest, practically in New York. The closest city of any note is Erie. We've got some stats down the bottom showing that Fred hit .306 in a pinch for the 1954 White Sox. Oh, look at the charming little cartoon about "Merkle's Boner"...

Holy crap, is that morbid! Fred Marsh's poor namesake is actually shown wearing a decent mock-up of the 1907 Giants uniform, not the 1908 ensemble. But then, the '07 duds are more visually striking. Anyway, the unfortunate 19-year-old Merkle is apparently so distraught over his pennant-losing gaffe that he has chosen to take his own life. Just to make sure he doesn't screw this up as well, he's gone to the trouble of fitting himself with a noose, ingesting poison, and putting a gun to his own temple. His teammates, including one burly fellow with a luxurious handlebar mustache, are rushing to Fred's side to stop him. I assume they were successful, as he went on to hit .273 in a 16-year career and died in 1956 at age 67. So in fact, he was still alive when this card was made! I wonder if he ever saw it, and what he might have thought of it. In all seriousness, my jaw dropped when I first took it in, but after a moment of disbelief, I had a good laugh. To think that adults today worry about movies and video games desensitizing children to violence!

Of course, being linked with this suicide-glorifying sketch seemed to put the whammy on Fred Marsh. In 1955, the year of the card's release, he missed nearly half the season with a broken elbow and a leg injury. The following year, he went 3-for-24 at the plate and by the end of May he was finished as a player. At least there was life after baseball for Fred; he apparently returned home to Pennsylvania and spent many years as a postal carrier. He just passed away two years ago, at age 82.