Houston Colt .45s of 1962-64 were endearing

The New York Mets became the poster child for expansion team futility in the early 1960s. Let's amend that to "early and mid '60s," really up to when everything turned around for them in 1969. The whole decade is sealed in treasured baseball lore. Partly that's because we're talking New York City, the great media capital that easily makes celebrities out of non-spectacular players. I mean like Joe Pepitone.
Or in the case of the fledgling New York Mets, Marv Throneberry. Throneberry could not have been as bad a player as popular lore made him out to be. The Mets indeed struggled and so their individual parts took on a like image. Casey Stengel was the old, eccentric-seeming manager of the original Mets, but he too could not have been as incompetent as the lore asserts. Anyone in the majors really had to "have it together."
The problem with expansion teams of that era - things seem not so bad now - isn't that their players were necessarily bad. Rather, the players fell into categories of 1) young guys on the way up, not fully seasoned, 2) older guys having slipped past their prime, or 3) role players who could be an asset for contending teams, but not with the skills to be everyday stars.
It is sad to reflect on how expansion team players could end up being portrayed in a mediocre light. They were not mediocre. In the case of the Houston Colt .45s, they entered the baseball universe far away from New York and its self-important media (e.g. Roger Angell of the New Yorker). The Mets became America's lovable losers while the Colt .45s, toiling in the incredible heat of Houston, developed into rather a garden variety expansion team.
I realize that sounds un-generous but I'm referring to the national consciousness: fans gave the Mets rather a mythic quality. The Colt .45s simply evolved painstakingly until the fruits started getting noticed.
Some of that pain was the elements in the pre-Astrodome days.
 
The short-lived original nickname
I suspect that many of the game's fans would need a primer on the "Colt .45s." I suspect the name itself might be unfamiliar to many. So let's raise a toast as we reflect on 1960s baseball, that decade which by its end gave us the divisional playoffs, and let's appreciate the Houston Colt .45s.
What happened to the nickname? I mean, we all follow the "Astros" now. My friend Del Sarlette says he still has trouble getting used to the Astros being in the American League. Fully understandable, as boomer-age fans have memories locked in from our youth. The Astros were a cool National League team that played in the space age Astrodome. We were in awe of "indoor baseball" and were told that the Astrosdome was "the eighth wonder of the World." So ironic given that it eventually was phased out and replaced with something new.
Us boomer fans in the '60s learned that the Astrodome was a great place for pitchers and not for hitters. We read the book "Ball Four" by Jim Bouton in which he played for the Astros and manager Harry Walker for part of the '69 season. Bouton recalled workouts where the guys had to go back to the old Colt Stadium to do sprints or whatever. "Look out for snakes," he wrote.

We can have a pretty good theory why the Colt .45s name was retired. The reference to guns was not palatable - the same reason why we saw "Baltimore Bullets" retired in favor of "Washington Wizards." The Bullets name was erased after the assassination of Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin. Rabin was walking offstage at a Tel Aviv "peace rally." Bullets owner Abe Pollin was a close friend of Rabin. Pollin announced within a week that no longer would "Bullets" be his team's name.
The Astrodome in Houston opened in 1965. That was a magical year for yours truly because my Minnesota Twins won the A.L. pennant.
The Astrodome was the world's first multi-purpose domed sports stadium. It was the "eighth wonder of the world" but reached the end of its lifespan in 1999. The old Houston Oilers of the NFL played there. It was the first major sports venue to have artificial turf. Remember when we talked about "Astroturf?" Tug McGraw was asked to compare grass with Astroturf and he quipped, quite famously for the amusement of my smart-aleck boomer generation: "I don't know, I've never smoked Astroturf." Remember, us boomers consumed Cheech and Chong humor.
The Astros eventually relocated to Enron Field - oops, that's an embarrassing name, so there was an adjustment to "Minute Maid Park." The grizzled old Astrodome would no longer meet the fire code in 2008. A rather ignominious fade. But Houston moved forward as a quite proud big league community.
The great baseball movie "Pride of St. Louis" about Dizzy Dean shows the player coming up in the ranks and playing for a time in Houston when it was minor league. Man, it must have been hot. Memories of the early Colt .45s often cite the weather and bug challenges. I suppose we could add snakes.
 
Cheering for Roman Mejias
Yes, the Colt .45s were obscure compared to the New York Mets who were christened the same year: 1962. My Twins began in '61. While the Twins had an enviable stadium at the start, Houston was ragtag, not that those memories aren't to be cherished by long-time fans. Yes, 1962 was a magical season for Houston: the big leagues had arrived!
Colt Stadium was built south of downtown Houston. Next door was where the Astrodome was gong to take shape. Loyal fans braved heat and mosquitoes from 1962 through 1964. They got attached to Roman Mejias among others. The history of the franchise begins with a three-game sweep of the Chicago Cubs at Colt Stadium! Obviously this wouldn't be the script throughout. The Colt .45s finished '62 with a 64-96 record. They were static with their success, posting a record of 66-96 in the next two seasons.
Then the curtain came down for the early version of the franchise - gone was the Colt .45s name along with the modest stadium for the first three seasons. (The box seats were folding chairs.)
The Colt .45s logo actually included a pistol. The name was seen as a relic of old Texas and old Houston. Might it have been eased into retirement partly because of this? Well I'm skeptical, but then there's another angle that you might not anticipate, and this was - da da! - business interests! Yes, major league ball is quite immersed in that. You see, "Colt" is the name of a firearms company, and it had reservations about merchandising rights. Might they want to demand a cut of the revenue? Well, Team President Roy Hofheinz had no reputation for going out of his way to be generous.
Maybe the nickname change reflected my gun violence theory, or maybe it was weighted with history (i.e. the "old" Texas) or maybe it was the business thing, but whatever, "Colt .45s" was not going to be long for this world. It's enshrined in baseball history and lore, make no mistake about it. I remember my baseball card for Harry Craft, the team's first manager.
 
Substantially better than the Mets
You can argue the team exceeded expectations the first year - whereas we expect first-year expansion teams to be prime candidates for the cellar, my, the Colt .45s placed eighth among the ten N.L. teams, but keep in mind the new Mets were below them. But, so also were the well-established Chicago Cubs. So let's bestow some kudos on that debut big league team for Houston.

Mejias batted third in the team's first game while Norm Larker was assigned cleanup. The shortstop was Don Buddin. And the pitcher? It was Bobby Shantz. It was April 10 of '62 when the curtain rose and on Day 1, Mejias hit a three-run homer in the third against the Cubs.
The Colt .45s won 64 games, quite superior to the "Amazin' Mets" who won just 40 playing at the hallowed old Polo Grounds.
Colt Stadium was built with the understanding it was temporary. It had an uncovered grandstand. The elements made for adversity, not to mention hordes of bugs, and never rule out the rattlesnakes. Humidity? Well. . .
Oh, who cares, because these memories are nothing but rich for those who were around to witness history: the birth of big league ball in Houston.
 
Stars of the future arrive
The second season of 1963 saw some guys come on board who would end up as "big names." Let's cite Rusty Staub (just age 19), Jimmy Wynn the "Toy Cannon" and Joe Morgan (future Hall of Fame second baseman). In '64 we saw big Walter Bond hit 20 home runs. Craft was fired in September. Lum Harris took over.
The Colt .45s never finished in last place. I remember Walt Bond joining my Minnesota Twins and showing promise until he died - a lesson for all us young fans on human mortality. Baseball was a lab for teaching us lots of stuff, a microcosm of real life in a way.
Yes, the Mets became a darling on the strength of futility, something that could only be spawned by New York City, I guess. But I say "hats off" to the intrepid Colt .45s who were superior and game to play in the Texas heat. Let's never forget the Houston Colt .45s. I remember my Turk Farrell baseball card!
- Brian Williams - morris mn minnesota - bwilly73@yahoo.com