Excellent condition or better. 96 pages

CONTENTS

FEATURE ARTICLES

ROGER MARIS:

THE WINTER OF HIS DISCONTENT

Page 4

TOURING EUROPE

WITH THE AAU TRACK TEAM

Page 62

WORLD SERIES WRAP-UP:

THE YANKEES-POWER AND GLORY

THE REDS AGONY AND ECSTASY

Page 58

NATIONAL LEAGUE OUTLOOK

Page 9

CINCINNATI REDS Page 10

LOS ANGELES DODGERS Page 14

SAN FRANCISCO GIANTS Page 18

MILWAUKEE BRAVES Page 20

ST. LOUIS CARDINALS-Page 22

PITTSBURGH PIRATES Page 24

CHICAGO CUBS Page 26

PHILADELPHIA PHILLIES Page 28

NEW YORK METS-Page 30

HOUSTON COLTS-Page 31

AMERICAN LEAGUE OUTLOOK

Page 33

NEW YORK YANKEES-Page 34

DETROIT TIGERS Page 38

BALTIMORE ORIOLES Page 42

CHICAGO WHITE SOX-Page 44

CLEVELAND INDIANS Page 46

BOSTON RED SOX-Page 48

MINNESOTA TWINS Page 50

LOS ANGELES ANGELS-Page 52

WASHINGTON SENATORS Page 54

KANSAS CITY ATHLETICS Page 56

MAJOR LEAGUE DIGEST

THE SEASON DAY-BY-DAY, PLAY-BY-PLAY

EVERY TEAM-EVERY PLAYER

Page 73

AMERICAN LEAGUE

Pages 74 to 85

NATIONAL LEAGUE

Pages 86 to 96

----------- 2 -----------

By DAVE ANDERSON

■ As the crowd in Cincinnati's Crosley Field filed out

after the fourth game of the World Series, the optimists

were saying, "We can win three in a row," but the

realists were saying, "It's all over, the Yankees are

too good." In the gray clapboard visitors' clubhouse,

the Yankees were smugly confident. Especially Roger

Maris. The man who had hit 61 homers during the

regular season and another to win the third Series

game was peeling off his sweat-streaked uniform and

looking past the fifth game. "When this thing is over,"

he was saying to a sportswriter, "I'm going to run, not

walk, to the nearest airport and shout, 'Kaycee, Mo,

here I come.' "

"You mean," the writer asked, "if the Series ends

tomorrow (as it did), you're not going back to New

York for the team victory party-champagne and

steak?"

"You're damn right I'm not," Maris snapped. "I'm

going home the quickest way possible. It's too bad we

didn't win it in four games. I'd be on the way now."

"Why the big rush?" the writer asked. "You never

were on a World Series winner before. Why not

enjoy it?"

"I want to enjoy something else," Maris said. "My

family. I want to get away from people. I want to be

alone, just with my wife and my four kids. They don't

hardly know they've got a father. The oldest guy,

Roger Junior-he's three-sometimes he says to me, 'I

don't like you, Daddy, you're never home.' Other ball-

players bring their family to New York during the

----------- 3 -----------

FOR REAL?

The fascination of the modern National League is its

rabble. There is no ruling nobility, no regal lineage as

in the other league. The pennant annually is up for

grabs, and likely as not, a 10-to-1 shot, like Pittsburgh

in '60, or a 60-to-1 shot, like Cincy in '61, can do the

grabbing. Now, the question for '62 is: "Is Cincy

for Real?"

"They asked that question halfway through last

season," says Manager Fred Hutchinson, with a smile

that is half sneer. "We proved we were then; I think

we can prove it again. This is no one-shot ball club,

the way a lot of folks think. This is a pretty young

ball club, with plenty of younger stuff on the way up.

Sure, we're for real."

The pitching staff is, for a championship club, in-

ordinately youthful. Of the starters, only Bob Purkey,

32, has been around. Joey Jay, the 21-game-winner, and

the man who chalked up Cincy's only victory over the

Yanks in the World Series, is 26. Jim O'Toole, con-

sidered the best lefty in the loop during the stretch

drive, is 25. Jim Maloney and Ken Hunt are the other

likely starters; Maloney is 21, Hunt 23,

The age is in the bullpen, and that is where baseball

men prefer it. Jim Brosnan, author, lecturer and deluxe

needler, is 32; lefty Bill Henry 34. Coming into the

bullpen from the Indianapolis farm, with a fine chance

of sticking, is one of the many Bob Millers infiltrating the

majors. Bob is a lefty who had a bunch of money

----------- 4 -----------

This is the year of Chavez Ravine

for the Dodgers. It is the year the

club moves into its glistening, color-

splattered, lawsuit-delayed Stadium,

with its 56,000 seats, its 16,000 park-

ing spaces, and its uniform 325-foot

foul lines. It is the end of the Man-

darin Mesh in the Coliseum-the

ridiculous netting in left field which,

for four seasons, looked menacingly

over pitchers' shoulders, and teased

the natural batting styles of hitters

who were tempted by the 250-foot

target.

It is, too, they will tell you,. the

year Walt Alston must win the NL

pennant or lose his seniority as the

longest continuous manager in the

Majors (ninth season). Of course,

they told you that last year, too, who-

ever "they" are. The word was out

that Alston must win in '61, so that

his boss, Walter O'Malley, could

make one last World Series killing

in the 90,000-plus capacitied Coli-

seum. Alston did not win, but was

given another shot.

Why didn't Alston win?

Because he was asked to do two

things simultaneously; two incom-

patible things. He was asked to de-

velop youngsters by playing them

over the veterans, and he was asked

to win a pennant at the same time.

He was asked to eat crackers and

whistle "Dixie." It's tough.

Maybe, when it was over, and the

Dodgers had finished second, someone

up there realized how tough-perhaps

O'Malley himself, or veep Buzzy

Bavasi, who has been a strong Alston

man through the years.

It was a troubled year for Alston,

----------- 5 -----------

For the shortest while in August,

and then again in September, those

with romantic memories spoke of the

Giants' "Little Miracle" of '51, and

longed for its repetition in '61. This

was to be the Small Miracle of Can-

dlestick Park, as compared to the

Little Miracle of Coogan's Bluff. But

pitchers make miracles-and the Gi-

ants of '61 didn't have the pitchers,

not even by the every-day standards

of mortals.

Thus did the drive from far back

fizzle just short of first place and the

Jints slid back to a third-place finish;

not bad for a team that had wandered

aimlessly into fifth the previous year,

but certainly no miracle.

Rookie manager Al Dark, the strict

disciplinarian who had replaced fath-

erly Tom Sheehan, the interminable

interim manager of '60, describes the

Giant shorts this way:

"If it weren't for the job Stu Miller

did for us, we would have finished

fifth, or even sixth. The rest of the

pitching was a terrible disappoint-

ment and pitching still is the biggest

thing in baseball. Getting runs is

second."

What about defense? The Giant

defense, at least statistically, was as

good as flag-winning Cincy's.

"Some people," said Dark, "claim

defense will make pitching, but I

never believed that. The pitching

must be there. Ours wasn't; Cincin-

nati's was.

That's what won for

Cincy."

Dark clicked off the performances

of his Big Four

"Toate of Milo " cid

----------- 6 -----------

It was the exciting day in 1957 that

Lew Burdette had beaten the Yankees

for the third time to make Milwaukee

the baseball champions of the world

and nearby planets. In the Braves'

clubhouse, the players poured diverse

liquids over one another's heads,

which is required idiocy for such oc-

casions, and Desi Arnaz was kissing

manager Fred Haney on both cheeks,

which is required emotion for Holly-

woodites.

Off to the side, ruffle-headed and

beaming, stood Lou Perini, owner of

all he surveyed-except for Arnaz.

"Fred did a wonderful job, didn't

he?" said Perini to a newsman. "A

truly wonderful job."

"Yes he did," said the writer, and

then: "Tell me, Lou. When you hired

Haney as coach for Charley Grimm,

did you have in mind that he would

eventually move into the manager's

job?"

Perini smiled coyly. "I always like

to have someone in the wings," he

said.

The wings have been overly ac-

tive in Lou Perini's little baseball

playhouse. Haney has gone. Charley

Dressen has come and gone. George

(Birdie) Tebbetts now manages the

Braves in one of the weirdest wing-

20

----------- 7 -----------

or

If pitching is 70% of baseball,

80 or 90, depending upon which

mathematician you talk to, what hap-

pened to the Cards in '61? Their staff

had the best ERA in the league. To

supplement this, St. Loo's .271 batting

average ranked No. 2 in the NL. Yet

the Birds ran a nice, steady fifth-and

finished there.

Perhaps the answer can be found in

the club's defensive statistics. There,

St. Loo was second worst (to the

Cubs). Perhaps the answer can be

found in the team's inability to win

the close ones. Or perhaps the Birds

had more than their share of tough

luck-starting with the shattering of

Larry Jackson's jaw by a line drive

in spring training, and including the

career-ending heart attack to Hal

Smith, considered by many to have

been the best defensive catcher extant.

At mid-season, the club brass evi-

dently decided the explanation was

the manager. This is an answer ob-

vious and available to all lagging

clubs at all times. So, Solly Hemus

was canned and Johnny Keane, long-

time organization man, was moved

into the job.

Under Keane, the Birds compiled

the best won-lost record in the loop

for the second half-47 and 33. But

the teams above held fairly firm, so

----------- 8 -----------

There's something to be said for

Pitt's not having won the pennant

again in '61; you didn't have to listen

to a single chorus of "The Bucs Are

Going All the Way." They went al-

most all the way from the top to the

bottom, landing on a ledge in sixth

place. When only the Cubs and Phils

are beneath you, you haven't beaten

much.

How does it happen that a pennant

winner, and a team that could beat

the Yankees in a World Series, plops

six rungs within a year? It's not easy.

It requires applied poor performance

on a widespread scale, plus rotten luck

of equal quality. The Bucs had both.

Basically, the team fell apart in the

feld, right at the start. "We're just

playing lousy ball," said Dick Groat

at the time. "We'll get straightened

out."

They didn't. The team that had

played so expertly the year before;

the team that had made so many

game-saving gems in key late-inning

spots, finished sixth in team fielding-

a collateral coincidence to its NL

standing.

Groat was, himself, one of the Bucs'

major disappointments. From MVP

and batting champ in '60, he dropped

off to just another .275 shortstop.

Oddly, the Bucs came up with another

batting champ, Roberto Clemente,

who pounded his way to the top at

.351. But, aside from rightfielder Cle-

mente and first-sacker Dick Stuart,

who blasted 35 homers, the Bucs did

----------- 9 -----------

The 10-coach, no-manager system

proved to be an immense success with

the Cubs in '61. They won four more

games than they had the previous

season and, at that rate of progress,

conceivably could cop the NL flag by

1971-which would make them only

25 years between pennants.

Phil Wrigley, author of the radical

departure from baseball's principle of

centralized authority, is highly en-

couraged. He intends to stick with his

brainchild, on the grounds that it is a

long-range project whose benefits will

percolate from the depths of Chi's

farm system. The coaches rotate

through the organization, like travel-

ing salesmen in Mr. Wrigley's chew-

ing gum empire. That is P.K.'s firm

position and, like the man who sits on

----------- 10 -----------

With the thunder from the bats

of Roger Maris and Mickey Mantle

still ringing in his ears, Ralph Houk

wore a broad grin as he signed a new

two-year contract to manage the New

York Yankees. The transition from

George Weiss to Roy Hamey in the

front office and from Casey Stengel

to Houk was effected without the

slightest change in pattern. The Bronx

Bombers had won their 11th pennant

in 13 years, their 26th since 1921 and

their 19th World Series over the 40-

year span.

Houk took another peek at the

document and chuckled, "I nearly

fainted when I saw the figures."

That puts him in the same frame

of mind with the members of the

other nine American League clubs,

not to mention the Reds. They almost

swoon every time they contemplate

the figures left on the record book

by the latest colossus in the Bronx.

Here are a few of the more memo-

34

----------- 11 -----------

By PAUL DURKIN

In diplomatic and political circles, the year

1961 was one of strained relations and anxious

moments on the international scene. Such

was not the case, happily, in the world of sports.

The Amateur Athletic Union of the United

States, in its continuing role of fostering good-

will wherever and whenever possible, soared

to unprecedented achievements.

The AAU, in addition to coordinating overseas

tours for American athletes in 12 of the 16

activities which it governs-including four that

encompassed world championships-also ar-

ranged for visits to the United States by foreign

athletes in seven sports. As far as can be

learned, not a single athlete from any country

removed his shoe and hammered it on a table,

either here or abroad, in defiance of the gov-

erning body.

It would be nice to report that American

athletes outdid their adversaries in every area

of competition, but it wouldn't be true and it

isn't expected. The purpose of these missions

is to promote better understanding and closer

harmony among the peoples of the world, while

providing the athletes with an atmosphere of

healthy sportsmanship in which to perform. To

this end, the program has proven eminently

successful.

In order that our readers might share the

enriching experiences of the athletes who

qualify for these trips, DELL SPORTS accom-

panied the AAU track and field team on its

tour of Europe last summer. The photographs

that appear in this special 11-page presenta-

tion were taken along the way-at Moscow,

Warsaw, Stuttgart and London-and aboard

chartered planes that covered approximately

15,000 miles in 25 days.

Of all the sports administered by the AAU.

continued