New Giants owner fires manager
Here is a look at the past. Items have been culled from The Chronicle’s archives of 25, 50, 75 and 100 years ago.
1992
Dec.2: The new owners of the San Francisco Giants acted swiftly yesterday to put their mark on the team by firing manager Roger Craig. Peter Magowan said he phoned Craig to inform him of the decision. On a sunny December afternoon Safeway Chairman Magowan met with reporters at Candlestick Park, pledging to field a “competitive and exciting team.” But he also warned San Francisco supervisors to approve a new, $1-a-year lease at Candlestick Park or risk losing the team. “I’m not going to put a gun to the head of the Board of Supervisors,” Magowan said “But if the Board of Supervisors doesn’t want this team here, if they want us to play somewhere else … this is the way to do this. Turn us down on this.”
Mayor Frank Jordan has assured the new owners that the team could play at Candlestick for the next five years for just $1 in rent — compared with the $750,000 a year now paid by the team — and keep all parking lot and scoreboard advertising profits. In addition, the mayor said, the city would pay utility bills and the stadium upkeep. The concessions, which must be approved by the supervisors, are estimated to be worth $16 million during the five-year period.
Larry Baer, 35, a key player behind the scenes in the deal, said that the money was promised, “It’s baked into all our financial projections. You can only take civic duty so far.”
1967
Dec. 1: More than 15,000 Americans have been killed and more than 109,000 wounded in South Vietnam since January 1961, it was announced yesterday. The new casualty figures were released by the United States Military Command after a month of heavy fighting around the Central Highlands outpost of Dak To. For the week that ended November 25 the death toll was 212 American and 216 South Vietnamese troops, the spokesman said. Last week’s wounded numbered 1242. Last week’s fighting cost the Communists 1826 killed compared with 1561 killed the previous week, according to a U.S. spokesman.
1942
Nov. 26: Late Tuesday night, a train loaded with German prisoners of war poked its way through the fog in Southern Alameda county. Just before midnight, four of the men slipped through a car window in a wild-eyed dash for liberty. Two were captured immediately by the train crew the others a few hours later. The last prisoner to remain at large, Hans Koerber, a lance corporal in Rommel’s infantry, captured at El Alamein had flagged a ride driven by Leslie Williams, a civilian who worked at a nearby war plant. Koerber, attempting to answer a few questions, retorted in unmistakable German. Williams, grinning pleasantly, drove to the war plant — an entrance surrounded by heavily armed guards. Arrested by and held at Alameda County jail, Koerber was no frightened youngster. He was downright insolent.
He boasted that he had been a member of the Nazi youth movement for seven years and joined the German army in 1940. The British captured him in July 1942. He intended, he said, to make his way to San Francisco, to find some friendly Nazis here, and have them aid him to get back to Germany. He dismissed as lies the recent reports from Stalingrad and North Africa. Smug and surly, he attacked all non-Aryans — with a slight exception of the Japs, his war brothers, which he couldn’t quite explain — and blamed the current unpleasantness on the British, the Jews and the Communists. As a member of the Nazi party he declared he fondly expected to rule the world. Hitler, he said, will take over in a short time. Authorities observed that if he were an American held by the Nazis, one-tenth the things he said would have been more than enough to have his teeth kicked in. Koerber was puzzled that his jailer had not tried to kick his brains out. In Germany, he indicated, things are done differently.
1917
Nov. 26: From Poland came Kosciuszko and Paderewski. From Poland more recently came Stanislaus Pasklewicz, now a private in the infantry at the Presidio. Pasklewicz enlisted before he had gained a very good knowledge of the customs of the United States Army. Saturday he was tried before the Major of his battalion for failing to salute when the band played the “Star Spangled Banner.” Pasklewicz’ ignorance of military matters was equaled only by his ignorance of the English language, so Captain H. T. Dillon was called in to interpret and represent the private. After a few minutes he gathered that Stanislaus was ready and willing to salute, but couldn’t recognize the national anthem when he heard it. “It goes like this,” the Major said,” and when you hear it you must salute.” Then the Major whistled his version of the selection. “If the band played the ‘Star Spangled Banner’ the way you whistled it, Major,” Captain Dillon said. “Private Pasklewicz would not be on trial, the band would.”