Things got batty at Fenway 70 years ago
The date was Thursday, June 18, 1953. If you’re the Detroit Tigers, coming off the first last-place finish in franchise history and en route to an uninspiring sixth-place conclusion this current season, you might think that a
17-1 comeuppance at Fenway Park the day before would represent the bottoming out of the ol’ barrel.
Ha! Try 23-3.
It was 5-3 as the Red Sox came to bat in the bottom of the seventh. Fortyseven minutes, 14 hits, six walks, and one wild pitch later, you can say the
Red Sox had broken up the ballgame with 17 runs. That remains the standard for the 20th and 21st centuries (who can forget the 18-spot put up by the 1883 Chicago Nationals?).
And Ted Williams had nothing to do with it. He was still serving his Uncle Sam for the second time.
The interesting back story is that the losing club had been very yappy.
Among other things, Detroit catcher Matt Batts, a former Red Sox player, had been chirping at Sox coach George Susce during batting practice. Batts and another former Sox player, Fred Hatfield, had directed some pregame barbs at Jimmy Piersall.
Things escalated when, after reaching second base in the sixth inning, Piersall was loudly heckled by the Detroit bench.
They couldn’t even keep their mouths shut during the big seventh inning.
The target this time was Gene Stephens, who was in the midst of setting a still-standing record with three base hits (two singles and a double) in the inning. As he came to the plate for his third at-bat of the inning, someone yelled, “Here comes the new Ted Williams!” Stephens singled to right off reliever Earl Harrist.
Those seventh-inning hits were three of the utility player’s total of 460 during a 12-year career, the first sevenplus being spent with the Red Sox. At 20 years of age, he was the youngest player in the American League. He would stay with the team until being traded for Willie Tasby in 1960. He would always have a cool tale to share with the grandchildren before his passing in 2019.
You know there had to be other milestones, and there were. Catcher Sammy White, known to Bostonians in future years as proprietor of a bowling alley on Soldiers Field Road in Brighton, remains the only man ever to score three runs in an inning.
But neither achievement is my favorite from this game. Ellis Kinder, the third Red Sox pitcher, had two RBIs that season. They both came in that inning. He scored three runs that season. Two came in that inning. I rather doubt many pitchers have had two hits in an inning, let alone two RBIs and two runs.
Kinder was in the midst of an aberrational season with a bat in his hands. The .142 career hitter that season hit .379 with one of his seven career doubles. There are many tales about his postgame habits, but the fact remains he had a fascinating career that included a 23-6 record as a starter in 1949 before reinventing himself as a reliever who led the league twice in appearances and saves.
Oh, as for the outs, Johnny Lipon fanned for the first. George Kell made two and three, with a liner and routine fly to left fielder Don Lund.
(By the way, were you in need of a game update during your afternoon activities, you could have called the Globe Scoreboard at RIchmond 2-2600.)
So what was going on in that fateful inning, anyway?
“I don’t know how many balls could miss the fielders,” wondered Sox pitcher Willard Nixon. “Some days they hit 10 line drives, and every one is at somebody.”
It was baseball being baseball; no more, no less. This is a game of 430-foot outs and 15-foot game-winning dribblers, as we all know.
“The ball had eyes,” surmised venerable Globe columnist Harold Kaese. ”Every time you looked up, a Detroit player was lunging for it but not quite reaching for it, as though it was a meal check.”
It was more death by paper cut than by bludgeoning. The Red Sox had 11 singles, doubles by Stephens and Kell, and a three-run homer by Dick Gernert.
There were no official errors, but Stephens might have been out attempting to steal second had the second baseman not dropped the throw. The name of that Detroit second sacker? Why, it was Johnny Pesky, who had been traded away in a blockbuster deal involving Kell the year before.
You think Detroit fans have been sitting around local establishments the past 70 years saying, “Pesky! How could he have dropped that ball?” (It would have held the run total to 10.) You never know.
For those of you doing the math, yes, the two-day tally was Boston 40, Detroit 4. The two games represented the 14th and 15th times the Tigers had given up 10 or more runs during their 94-loss season. There would be 13 more.
This being an afternoon game, there was still plenty of postgame entertainment possibilities for the 3,108 who had borne witness to baseball history at Fenway.
For example, they could see “Take Me To Town” with Ann Sheridan and Sterling Hayden at the RKO Boston or “South Sea Woman” at the Paramount and Fenway with Virginia Mayo and Burt Lancaster.
But the best take was at Symphony Hall, where Arthur Fiedler and his Boston Pops were welcoming patrons for $2.50 (floor), $1.50 (balcony), or $.50 (unreserved). I hope any Red Sox player would have been comped.