Oddball

By Peter Stoler

EVEN THE BROWNS by William B. Mead Contemporary Books; 255 pages; $8.95

During World War II, the U.S. Government felt that any man healthy enough to run bases was fit enough to fight. The nation drafted or enlisted the best men from both major leagues, then told the teams to play ball. They complied by fielding a collection of players as unsuited for baseball as they were for battle. The old Washington Senators used Bert Shepard, who had one leg; the St. Louis Browns started a one-armed outfielder named Pete Gray. The Cincinnati Reds signed a pitcher who didn't have to worry about being drafted; Joe Nuxhall was only 15.

Old fans and young statisticians can recall what happened in the years between Pearl Harbor and V-J day. William Mead's vision is less personal and more anecdotal. In this delightful, ram bling history, the St. Louis-raised journalist sees wartime baseball in its unique social context. To mask the ludicrous on-field play, he notes, major league baseball adopted a stern patriotic image. Players took part of their pay in war bonds, teams staged charity games and donated equipment to the Army. Privately, baseball officials tried to protect their pocketbooks and get their stars deferred from the draft.

The efforts were futile. Some players signed up on their own. Hank Greenberg was discharged from the Army on Dec. 5, 1941; two days later, Pearl Harbor was attacked and he re-enlisted. "We are in trouble and there is only one thing for me to do," announced the Detroit Tigers outfielder. Red Sox Slugger Ted Williams, who hit .406 in 1941, became a Marine pilot after the 1942 season. The DiMaggio brothers, Joe and Dom, enlisted.

The military services fielded exhibition teams composed of some of the best players in both leagues. On the home front there was a scramble. Top teams like Boston, the Chicago White Sox and the Giants found themselves far off the pace soon after the 1943 season got under way. The Boston Red Sox foundered in sev enth place. Other clubs struggled along with squads of men too young or old or ill to be drafted.

But the winds of war did blow one team some good. The St. Louis Browns had long been regarded as baseball's version of the Polish joke; in 1944 they had gone 42 years without a pennant. As the draft began to erase differences between the teams, the oddball Brownies prospered. In the outfield were Mike Kreevich, a man with a penchant for hitting into double plays, and Milt ("Skippy") Byrnes, a 4-F with a bronchial condition. One of their catchers, Frank Mancuso, was a former lieutenant who had injured his back during parachute training; he could neither remain in the Army nor look skyward for a popup. For pitchers they had Denny Galehouse, who had kept his deferment by working during the week in a war plant, and a brawling drunkard named Sigmund ("Jack") Jakucki.

The team, whose squad led the majors in 4-Fs with 18, never faltered. Going into the final day of the season, the Browns were still last in the league in attendance, but tied with the Yankees for first place. By the end of the day, they had clinched the flag with a winning per centage of .578, a new low in American League history.

The Browns lost the 1944 series to the Cardinals. They also lost their momentum. Nothing, including the midget and clown introduced after the war by Bill Veeck, could lure the fans. Sold to a Baltimore brewer who brought them to his own city and renamed them the Orioles, the Browns played their last season in St. Louis in 1953. As they had for most of their careers, the team played to almost empty stands. But at least they kept tradition alive. The 1953 St. Louis Browns finished last.

Peter Stoler

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