It's not a fable: Mickey Stanley at shortstop, 1968

The years 1965 through '68 were a refreshing time of re-balancing for the American League. The Yankees dynasty had gotten retired with surprising and shocking quickness. The Yanks had been such a fixture at the top.
The East coast media acted like they weren't quite ready to let go of the Bronx Bombers mystique. The Bronx was Roger Angell's point of reference when he devoted a chapter to our Minnesota Twins. Angell's publication? "The New Yorker." His book was directed to a mass audience. But the New York City fingerprints were most in evidence. His chapter about 1965 was titled "West of the Bronx."
Yes, Minnesota is quite to the west of those Gotham-like environs with its elevated trains. Minnesota's pennant in '65 decisively marked the end of the Yankees' primacy of that era. And then in the subsequent three years we got Baltimore, Boston and Detroit, three cities that assuredly had been salivating for such glory. They were richly deserving.
Baltimore took advantage of a one-sided trade, the one that got them Frank Robinson. Boston's team in 1967 was called "the impossible dream" because the rise to the top could hardly have been foreseen in the early part of the decade.
Then in '68 we got Detroit's year. I'm recalling it because of an unusual managerial decision made by Mayo Smith. The Detroit skipper would surely have been derided - heck, run out of the managerial ranks - had the decision appeared to fall through, which most certainly could have happened. I'm not sure managers were paid the "big bucks" but if they were, Smith would be richly deserving based on his edgy infield decision. We're talking about the shortstop position.
My Minnesota Twins sailed in '65 with the league MVP playing shortstop, Zoilo Versalles. The Cuban Versalles broke our hearts after that. He slid into decline based on some shortcomings in managing his life, or so Minnesota sports lore tells us. Versalles was removed from the picture for the '68 season and there was no obvious replacement. We used a tandem (of four) as the team basically flailed away some, then we acquired the solid solution for '69 in Leo Cardenas.
 
Detroit's puzzle at shortstop
Meanwhile in Detroit, 1968 was clearly their blessed summer. But there was an issue looming with October beckoning. My goodness, Detroit had gone through its banner campaign without an offensively capable shortstop! That's a head-scratcher. Certainly Ray Oyler could field capably. He had better, considering that when he was in the lineup, it was like having two pitchers in the lineup.
The Tigers were on their way to their first pennant since World War II. They climbed into first place in the middle of May. Their grip was firm. This was the year that Denny McLain won 31 games. Mickey Lolich was the other stalwart starting pitcher. Detroit had so many ingredients in place. But at shortstop they faced a quandary. Would the team want to do battle with the vaunted Cardinals of the N.L. with what amounted to two pitchers in the batting order?

Smith had the luxury of focusing on this quandary because of the large lead his team amassed in the A.L. race. He looked at the three shortstops: Oyler, Tom Matchick and Dick Tracewski. Oyler had the best glove. At bat he seemed a futile proposition and let's cite his stat: a .135 average. Matchick and Tracewski were pedestrian at bat too. It seemed none of the three could pass muster for a World Series team.
Manager Smith pulled a rabbit out of the hat for the last two weeks, assigning an assuredly good athlete but not a shortstop by specialty. Mickey Stanley typically had "OF" on his baseball card. So the guy was an outfielder. A switch to the infield would seem most irregular. And to shortstop? Surely this calculation would invite skepticism.
Stanley had his best season in '68 even though he was never one to knock the cover off the ball. His batting average was a modest .259 but keep in mind this was "the year of the pitcher." He was a Gold Glove outfielder. But my, a switch to the infield for the World Series? To shortstop? "Balls" would describe this nicely. My, it seems rather a fable.
Stanley was parked in centerfield after a broken arm sidelined marquee player Al Kaline in May. Kaline was going to be ready for the World Series. To get Kaline back to his standard outfield position, some strings were going to be pulled. And, this involved Stanley getting moved to shortstop to ensure the best possible offensive lineup. Smith was blunt when he informed Stanley of the news: "You are going to be my shortstop in the World Series." There was no back and forth. A decision had been made. Its fruits or lack of fruits would unfold in front of the national TV audience.
 
Throwing out Lou Brock: no sweat
Stanley was tested right away in Game 1 of the Fall Classic, yes the first inning as he was challenged to throw out speedy leadoff hitter Lou Brock of the Cardinals. Stanley did so on a close play. He ended up handling 30 of 32 fielding chances in the World Series with the two errors not costly. Detroit took the world championship. This was the World Series where Jose Feliciano sang the National Anthem in his stylized way, causing controversy (a shock to remember today).
The Tigers' success lifted their city's morale in a summer of considerable discord there. Discord of various kinds reverberated across the U.S. The Vietnam war and civil rights were flashpoints. Oh, but we always had baseball, right?
FDR insisted that baseball be kept going through WWII. It would underscore the resilient nature of the American spirit, but he could not have foreseen what happened in 1994: the extended players strike that seemed like a dagger to the sport. (It was a dagger to me personally - my enthusiasm has never really rebounded.)
Jim Northrup (the "silver fox") hit a famous triple in the Series' final game. It has been said of Stanley, whose image as a player was not exactly flamboyant, that he had "15 minutes of fame" in the '68 Series. Surely this is his niche in baseball history, as the "accidental shortstop."
But one can look deeper to see how else he stood out, like with sheer longevity with the Tigers. He played 15 seasons for Detroit! Let's consider his four Gold Gloves. And, his contributions with the 1972 team that won the A.L. East. In sum, Stanley was an asset with sheer athleticism, versatility and fielding. He was most at home roaming center field. He had an innate sense of knowing where the ball was going when it left the bat. He set an example with his character and approach to the game. Columnist Joe Falls called him a "throwback" with his attributes.
 
A part-time Al Kaline: no sweat
The Tigers like my Twins had just one pennant to show for the 1960s, despite always having a strong sheen. The likes of Kaline and Norm Cash impressed. So, Detroit had its big year in '68 despite Kaline missing a good chunk. My Twins took the '65 pennant despite Harmon Killebrew having an extended injury layoff. And in '67, Boston had its fabled season despite losing Tony Conigliaro to the tragic injury from beaning.
It goes to show how team chemistry can trump the presence of two or three superstars. But of course, Detroit was thrilled having Kaline back for the Fall Classic in their stellar season of '68. Stanley's adjustment to shortstop and Smith's willingness to answer for the decision were hallmarks of the winning commitment. Hats off to Mr. Stanley.
- Brian Williams - morris mn minnesota - bwilly73@yahoo.com