Barnum's Back

After he sold his controlling interest in the Chicago White Sox in 1961, Bill Veeck never stopped itching to "get involved again with people." In his best-selling 1962 autobiography Veeck--As in Wreck, he vowed: "Look for me under the arc lights, boys, I'll be back." Now, thumping the promotional drums as loudly as ever, the old Barnum of baseball has returned--but not to baseball. He is the new president and part owner of East Boston's Suffolk Downs race track.

Though a rank novice at horse racing, Veeck, 55, is already shaking up the Establishment. Astonished that the average age of the racing fan is 52, he went to Superior Court and in June won a decision reversing the Massachusetts Racing Commission's ban on children at the track. "I may not know much about horses," said Veeck, "but I do know that we've got to get the young ones in to develop new players." Besides, says Veeck, the father of nine: "Why shouldn't kids be able to see what their old man is up to?"

Lady Godiva. Such talk has drawn flocks of curious adults to Suffolk Downs to see what "Ole Bill," as he calls himself, has been up to since taking over six months ago. The answer, as usual, is plenty. Built in 1935 on the site of an East Boston dump, Suffolk Downs seemed to be reverting to its original state. Veeck took one look at his new property and condemned it as "a combination money machine and concentration camp."

Veeck immediately launched a $1,000,000 refurbishing program. The facade of sickly Suffolk green was replaced with vibrant yellow along with occasional splashes of cool blue and hot red. He personally took a sledgehammer to the dingy rest rooms, did away with pay toilets, ripped the barbed wire off the fences, ordered 24 apple trees planted in the infield and reduced the admission fee to $1.50 for both the clubhouse and the grandstand. "Notice the new green carpet in the clubhouse," he readily tells passersby. "Color is so important."

So is what happens on the track. On opening day three months ago, Veeck parlayed the current publicity for girl jockeys into a $10,000 Lady Godiva Handicap ("Eight fillies on eight fillies"). Two weeks ago, he introduced the $252,750 Yankee Gold Cup, America's richest race on grass.

Technically, the race was a fiasco; among other things, Veeck allowed 14 starters--at least two too many for comfort on the narrow track. Still, he insists that the event was remarkably successful as a trial run. "After all," he says, "we're showing people that we're trying to improve the quality of the sport in this area." Quality, in fact, is the keynote of Veeck's latest pitch. "You shoot off your fireworks and pull your stunts," he says, "but all that is frosting on the cake. Great racing is the thing."

Lots of Frosting. It is, but Veeck still does not stint on the frosting. In recent weeks, he has rewarded fans with such door prizes as 2,000 coloring books, a lifetime supply of balloons and 1,000 hot dogs. Between races, he has minstrels strolling around the grandstand. To lure more women to the betting windows, he is talking about exchanging trading stamps for each losing ticket.

The gimmickry recalls the Veeck of old, who was baseball's most imaginative impresario. While operating the Cleveland Indians (1946-49), the St. Louis Browns (1951-53) and the White Sox (1959-61), he annoyed fellow owners by introducing jugglers and tightrope walkers into the pre-game festivities and staging cow-milking contests for players. Though Veeck is perhaps best remembered as the man who sent a 3-ft. 7-in. midget to bat against the Detroit Tigers,* he also performed some praiseworthy services for the game. He broke the color barrier in the American League by hiring Outfielder Larry Doby in 1947, set attendance records (his 1948 season total of 2,620,627 is still an American League mark) and led both the Indians and the White Sox to pennants. Such Veeck innovations as exploding scoreboards and relief pitchers riding in from the bullpen on golf carts are now standard.

The trouble was, says Veeck, "baseball was becoming boring. More games, more clubs, less talent and duller stretches than ever before." He opted for horse racing because "nine times a day you have something exciting happening. That's something most ball clubs can't guarantee these days." Win or lose, he says, "we promise that the fan will have a little fun." Even more, once Veeck gets around to installing the steam calliope that he recently bought.

*He walked on four straight balls. The league instantly outlawed midgets, prompting Veeck to ask if, at 5 ft. 6 in., Yankee Shortstop Phil Rizzuto classified as "a short ballplayer or a tall midget?"

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