I was 13 years old in 1968, right at that prime of making the ensconced memories. The Twins had made a strong run in 1967 but broke our hearts at the end. The '68 summer was not so encouraging. It was Detroit's turn to bathe in the limelight. Us boomer boys were mesmerized by the pitching of Detroit's Denny McLain.
One might say that "only in America" could such a complicated and conflicted person as McLain get in the limelight. He had the kind of rise and fall that feeds the most gripping biographies. He showed a mix of awesome talent and troubling failings. His period of stardom seemed meteoric. But to this day his name is familiar to my generation.
McLain was exhibit No. 1 of how 1968 came to be known as "the year of the pitcher." His prowess on the defensive side of the ledger was the equivalent of what Roger Maris achieved in 1961. Baseball had the pendulum swing from one side to the other. McLain's Detroit teammate Norm Cash batted .361 in 1961, a stat considered "the most anomalous batting average ever."
Baseball tweaked its product. Author David Halberstam noted that umpires started calling the high fastball a strike. Sandy Koufax licked his chops over that. McLain was poised to take advantage in no small part in 1968.
The context of '68 baseball
It is bittersweet to cite the memories, because America had a backdrop with a lot of dissent and conflict. Oh, the Vietnam war certainly seemed No. 1. But racial tumult was bubbling also. The generation gap was a very real thing. So in 1968 when Jose Feliciano sang the (sacred) National Anthem in his own stylized way, it was a big deal.
The older folks cried foul. The older folks were the equivalent to today's Fox News viewers, the souls who like to digest Laura Ingraham. Fox News has no issue with stylized renditions today and would find them appealing. By the same token the Fox News template of today is happy to lionize Martin Luther King or to say that Social Security is a necessary thing. Oh but back in the day, let me tell you.
So in 1968 with so much cultural bluster and conflict brewing, boys in their mid-teens with their coveted collections of baseball cards could follow the Fall Classic with delight. Call it escapism but it was therapeutic. Baseball had injustices as players were not rewarded well enough. Overworked pitchers often threw out their arms. Today, a person with an oddball makeup like McLain might get guidance, counseling and proper sports medicine to have a longer career. It was sad what could happen to the players back then and we probably could empathize some. But the game went on and we continued to be mesmerized.
McLain's 31 pitching victories in '68 - not just 30 but 31! - were the equivalent of Maris' 61 homers in 1961. Or, the equivalent of Norm Cash's .361 average of '61. Baseball worried that the pendulum had to be adjusted again. And so it was, in the wake of '68, as the pitching mound got lowered. This gave hitters a better chance.
The apex was in '68, for what salary?
McLain had the microscopic ERA of 1.96 in '68. He won the Cy Young and MVP awards. The Tigers won their first World Series in 23 years. We were impressed hearing about his salary of about $100,000. Isn't that something?
McLain made his big league debut pitching a seven-hitter victory and not only that, he hit a home run! His progress was steady after that. McLain had an image with several parts, quite unrelated to each other. He ended up with criminal notoriety, something that puzzled Commissioner Bowie Kuhn who reflected on it in his autobiography. People destined to be pro athletes generally develop dependable personalities with positive moral components, Kuhn noted. But human beings can defy all sorts of molds.
The freedom of America lets us see the full tapestry of human behavior.
McLain became a household name. You would not want your children emulating parts of his character. No inspiration would be taken from his dark side. And there's still another element of his nature, distinct from the two already cited here: McLain was an accomplished musician! I would personally assert that musicians tend to be good people, although you should probably always confirm that any checks they write are good! Rimshot.
Surely they don't gravitate to the really shady world of criminal behavior - the mobster stuff or embezzling. But McLain the musician could not escape his darker side any better than McLain the baseball star. His positive talent should have been the full focus of his energy. So, why wasn't it? Well, it's because he's a human being. A human being in America. He was both a celebrity and a criminal.
As a musician he specialized in the Hammond Organ. I wonder what got him attracted to that instrument. Not to really knock it - OK I'll knock it a little - but IMHO it has a rather cheesy sound. Listening to recordings, one realizes that McLain was a bona fide talent.
Truly the Tigers' year
McLain was guaranteed a permanent place in baseball's shrine of star players by what he did in 1968. The Tigers led the league (a year before the division system was implemented) almost the whole way. They opened up a gap of 12 games over the Orioles. It's amazing baseball could sell itself adequately in the days when there were two leagues and no divisions, thus at risk of letting suspense slip away.
The A.L. would seem to have been sans suspense in 1968. Yet us young fans were still captivated, still enthused at opening each new pack of baseball cards. They might have still been a nickel then.
McLain got his 31st win on a day when he revealed his questionable character, as he "grooved" a pitch to Mickey Mantle - pretty blatant. Baseball's powers that be were disapproving. But McLain was still the man of the hour as he finished the regular season with the stupendous record of 31-6. Wow!
McLain did not have an outstanding World Series but he did win Game 6. Tiger pitcher Mickey Lolich won three games. McLain had another good season in 1969.
In '70 the man started getting separated from the myth. The mobster-like behavior became better known. McLain succumbed to a common weakness among pro athletes: trouble managing money. Aren't we all puzzled by that?
McLain was just 26 years old when he got traded to the Washington Senators. It was a celebrated eight-player deal. McLain was essentially done as his fastball had faded and the weight had come on. Legend has it he guzzled soft drinks. The Washington manager was the legendary Ted Williams and the chemistry was not there. Today on the podcast he co-hosts, Denny says Williams "hated everybody." Denny laments the shortcomings of that Washington Senators team which he said "didn't hit the cutoff man all season." Also, the big power-hitting Frank Howard, mesmerizing with his home run blasts, just couldn't run. And, this was in the days before the designated hitter!
Spiral into shady things, alas
Done with baseball, McLain plunged into dubious business ventures. His wife Sharon left him more than once but would float back. Poor Denny, who could have made a nice living just being Denny McLain, got involved in loan sharking and bookmaking. Kuhn would have liked to get into his head. The U.S. Justice Department got interested in Denny's "associates." Some of these guys were willing to "talk," get it?
So here come indictments vs. the great Denny McLain. He got a long prison sentence but it was wiped out on procedural grounds. For a while the legendary righty seemed "clean." But oh no he couldn't defy his basic nature. He and a "friend" bought a meatpacking company and lo and behold it went bankrupt. The guys got convicted on a laundry list of charges including embezzlement. My, McLain was on his way to the crowbar motel for seven years, no dismissal this time.
Sharon divorced him at the time he went to prison. But she would return to his side upon release of course. A romantic story I guess. They got remarried. They raised four children, one of whom was tragically killed in an auto accident at age 26.
It has been said that Denny McLain "lived by his own rules." In spades to be sure. He hurt many people who were closest to him. I wonder if he ever had truly sinister intent. It would seem he did, but I wonder. I guess I wonder if Denny was just one of those lionized pro athletes who got deluded by all the cheers and adoration, to where they felt they could get away with anything.
You can listen to Denny today on the No Filter Sports podcast, a real excellent product in which Denny pulls his own weight - he's not just there using his fame. These guys do a show much like the old "Sid and Dave" show in Minnesota on WCCO Radio. Only I'd say Denny and his sidekicks are better. They are so frank and uninhibited. I stay interested through the whole hour-long discussion. Please check it out!
Denny was a conflicted individual who transfixed us all with his fastball and his spirited leg kick up in his spectacular prime. We'll always hold on to those 1968 memories, the good ones I mean. The escape from the Vietnam nightmare.
Addendum: When researching McLain you might want to confirm that it's "McLain" and not "McClain," the latter spelling having been used by country singer Charly McClain (a female) in the 1980s.
- Brian Williams - morris mn minnesota - bwilly73@yahoo.com
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