
Baseball Toaster runs on some experimental software called Fairpole. It's still under development.
For more information, please visit the Fairpole blog, or read the FAQ.
Lee Mazzilli was good, not great, at just about everything. He could draw walks, hit for a decent average, smack 15 or so home runs and steal 15 or so bases a year, and cover a lot of ground in the outfield. You could almost say that he was flawless, a characterization that he seemed inclined to emphasize by custom-tailoring his uniforms and maintaining his archetypical feathered haircut with the level of care usually only given to invaluable cultural relics, which in a way is what it was. But in truth he did have one flaw: a relatively weak throwing arm. Ironically, Mazzilli lost out on a chance to win an All-Star Game MVP award because of the powerful throwing arm of another player. In the 1979 All-Star Game, Mazzilli entered as a pinch-hitter in the eighth inning and blasted a game-tying home run, becoming the first player ever to homer in his first All-Star Game at-bat. In the ninth inning he came to bat again and drove in the game-winning run by drawing a bases-loaded walk. Unfortunately, each of his batting feats had immediately followed a half-inning punctuated by right-fielder Dave Parker using the cannon attached to his shoulder to eliminate baserunners. Next to the national debut of Bruce Sutter’s forkball during the 1978 All-Star Game, Dave Parker’s pair of lightning bolts stands as the most vivid All-Star Game memory of my childhood. The voters for the All-Star Game MVP award were similarly amazed, and looked past Mazzilli’s batting heroics to give the award to Parker. Mazzilli never made it to another All-Star game, ensuring that his batting record in the midsummer classic would remain forever flawless.
***
(Love versus Hate update: Lee Mazzilli's back-of-the-card "Play Ball" result has been added to the ongoing contest.)
"Dave Winfield brazenly went from first to third on Texas left fielder Lee Mazzilli's arm and afterward said, 'I can do that any time I want.' Mazzilli had better be a lot more proficient than a lot of people think he is, what with the Ron Darling-Walt Terrell price the Rangers paid to get him."
FYI: Some good comments have been added to the following older posts:
Dick Pole and Pete Lacock (Behold the Unsortable); Joe Strain (Giants); and Steve Garvey, 1976 (Dodgers).
And I had forgotten that Parker's throws took the MVP away from him, as those throws are all I remember of that game - and are one of the defining memories of my childhood. Reggie going deep three times is right up there too...even as I rooted against him...
Anyways, keep up the brilliant work...you are a writer who should be "published" (even if its just here (soon, "just here" will be a selling point)), as your writing is amazing. I await the Cardboard Gods book...
When Maz came to bat the first time in that All-Star game my dad said, "I'd love to see him pop one out here," and of course he did, literally -- it was a pop-fly HR into the shallowest corner of the Kingdome -- but it was huge to me. That his bases-loaded walk in his next turn came off Guidry made it even better. That was the one and only highlight of that miserable year.
The string of deals that turned Mazzilli into Darling & Hojo are among the best the Mets ever made, but it was also great to have him back as a pinch-hitter with the 86ers: He knew as well as anyone how far they'd come.
Mazzilli was also:
* manager of the Orioles
* Treacherous first-base coach for the Yankees
* An age-group champion in speed skating
* No. 1 Mets draft pick in 1973 -- the only top Met draft pick in that era to make any kind of impression
* Restaurantuer (Lee Mazzilli's Sports Cafe)
* Actor (Tony & Tina's wedding)
* Today, he's a studio analyst on SNY and considered a candidate for manager if/when Manuel can't hang on.
OK, obviously it was a different age, putting two small children (ages 12 and 10) on a four-hour train ride to a strange city to see a baseball game by themselves, but not for nothing did the 1970s rock, and in this final year of the decade, we were going for it, man. David and I had been to Beavers games back in Portland on our own, but that was the Pacific Coast League. This, well, this was the next best thing to World Series tickets. It's hard to remember, but in the days before SportsCenter and interleague play, the All-Star Game really was special. Living on the West Coast, even NBC's Game Of The Week didn't show much besides the ubiquitous Yankees/Red Sox games and then whoever the Dodgers were playing if NBC had time for a doubleheader that weekend. Most of those players really were cardboard gods to us, seen only thanks to Topps and with rare exceptions photos in Sports Illustrated. We were mesmerized by the bright colors of Astros and Twins and Pirates as much as we in awe of the names on the backs of those pullover double-knit jerseys.
Yes, one Pirate in particular. The Cobra, at the height of his powers (and goodness knows what else), was not a fan favorite in the section we were in, left-center near the rail. He was still a giant in that outfield, even surrounded by the likes of Winfield and Foster, just a huge guy.
Only a child would besmirch an ASG program by trying to keep score, and while my brother wisely bailed on the effort long before the bottom of the 8th, I was still in there, scribbling away in earnest. The lighting then at the Kingdome WAS terrible, but my eyes had adjusted well enough by that point in the game to see Parker get a fine jump on the single by Nettles and come up firing.
Wow.
The whole section was stunned into silence for that moment -- no, it seemed longer than a moment, because the ball had so far to travel, but it surely got to its destination in a hurry. Downing was out at the plate, and everyone had to reconcile what they had just seen with the laws of physics as they had been understood up until then. 29 years later, I'm still trying to wrap my head around it. Mazzilli wasn't the only one overshadowed at that mid-summer classic.
And to bring perfect closure to the 1970s (if two years after the decade was technically over), Mazzilli was traded back to New York straight-up for Bucky F Dent. I don't suspect he buys his own drinks in that town, even to this day. I wonder if he and the Cobra ever cross paths, and what they might say to each other, if they do...?
http://web.sny.tv/announcers/mets_onair.jsp#mazzilli
9 : Amen to that thought about the All-Star game's importance back then, and thanks for the eyewitness account. Really cool.
The Dent trade was fitting, in a way. As I remember it (and my Mets fan friend Ramblin' Pete concurs), Dent knocked Mazzilli from the perch of reigning feather-haircutted Chachi-esque sex symbol of baseball when Dent hit his pop fly over the Monster and stripped to his underpants for a disgusting but girl-beloved poster.
I remember that All-Star Game well, so wanting Lee to get the MVP. (My brother loved Parker, so we had a fight about it.)
By the way, I've been spending the last few hours watching the All-Star parade up Sixth Ave., from out a colleague's window. Big boos for Big Papi and Francona, big cheers of course for Josh Hamilton, and the whole thing kicked off with such Cardboard Gods Hall of Famers (at least the ones I saw) as Rod Carew, Harmon Killebrew, George Brett, Hank Aaron, Joe Morgan, Jim Palmer, Reggie Jackson, Steve Carlton, Bob Gibson, Willie McCovey, and Rollie Fingers.
None of them looked the way they do here, for better and for worse. But I must say that reading Carboard Gods gave me a new perspective on these players.
I love a good parade, and I love Former Greats. I wish I could have seen the one going on today.
And let's not forget Tony (Scott Colomby) from CADDYSHACK and Tony Danza himself, who is scheduled to play Lee in "a-MAZ-ing: the Story of the 1979 New York Mets."
We were up a few stories, but we got Harmon Killebrew and Josh Hamilton to wave at us, which made everyone very happy.
But as for my vote for the president of the Mazzilli nation, I might have to go with the guy from Caddyshack.
"WA-rr-iors! Come out and PLAAA-aaay!"
And I love The Warriors, don't get me wrong, but I'm almost at the point of thinking points should be taken away for references to it--it's ubiquitous at this point, especially the "come out to play-ee-ay" line. If this crazy point system really does exist, that is.
Glad to see you honor Mazzilli, who seems like the quintessential 1970s player to me. Can you imagine him in 1940s flannel or wearing his socks high like a lot of the players do now? I just can't see it.
To comment, please log in.
Not a member? Register!