Читать книгу Rage. The Legend of "Baseball Bill" Denehy онлайн

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Luplow, also a veteran, put his hand on my shoulder and said, “I don’t know how long you’re going to be here, kid, but if you stay here long enough and you catch him at the end of spring training, you’ll see quite a difference.”

Three weeks later, on a Friday night, when the Mets faced Gibson again, he gave up one hit and struck out twelve in seven innings. What happened in three weeks? I thought. Jeepers. Wow!

Toward the end of spring training, the Mets sent me down to Double-A Williamsport, Pennsylvania, managed by former Pittsburgh Pirates outfielder Bill Virdon. After the Mets released Wes Westrum, they should have picked Bill to be Westrum’s replacement. In Bill, they would have had a terrific manager. Bill was a strict disciplinarian and he worked players very hard. He was no-nonsense. He was a guy you could talk to—he wasn’t aloof—but you had to befriend him. He wasn’t a players’ manager in the sense of him befriending you. You had to go seek him out.

Bill worked the pitchers hard. I’d start on the right field line, run out to center field with the baseball, and throw it to him; then I’d run to left-center field and he’d toss it back. If I loafed, he’d throw the ball way over my head and I had to run as hard as I could to catch it. With Bill, there was no jogging. One time Bill sharply criticized me, and I commented that he should ease up on me because I had been pitching so well.