Alvin Dark Recalls Years When Baseball Was Ripe in Big Apple

Alvin Dark was a shortstop who could hit as well as field. He was a lifetime .289 hitter who batted .290 or better in seven of his 14 big-league seasons. At age 28 in 1950, he was entering the prime years of his career when acquired by the New York Giants from the Boston Braves. And he performed durably and effectively in New York, averaging 154 games played over the next five seasons. It was Dark who started the Giants on their way in the ninth inning of the pennant-deciding playoff game against the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1951, leading off with a single after Brooklyn’s Don Newcombe, holding a 4-1 lead, struck out the side in the eighth inning.

Dark is 63 and his game is golf. He lives in Easley, S.C., and the two-handicapper can be found about four days a week playing the Smithfields Country Club. But he remembers the baseball wars in New York. They are fond memories.

“The thing I remember about it more than anything else was it seemed like everybody in New York was a baseball fan,” Dark said. “The press was so important because everytime something was written, there were 10 million people reading it. I think anybody who plays in New York is very, very fortunate. Another thing I noticed in New York is the fans knew baseball. Not only did they enjoy it but they knew it. If a guy got somebody over from second to third with one out, the fans in New York could appreciate that as much as the next guy hitting a home run. All those things come to my mind when I think of baseball in New York.

“I know the Yankees and the Dodgers had great Series when they played. But every time the Giants and Dodgers played a series, it seems like you had a knockdown before it was over. We might not have always had a fight but it seemed like those two teams always wound up looking each other in the eye. Both teams had great competitors. I remember Jackie Robinson taking out Davey Williams, our second baseman, and almost breaking him in half. And people still remind me of my going hard into Robinson after the Williams incident.

“Well, that’s the way we played it. It was intense. When you were going to be playing the Dodgers, say, a weekend series, you would be watching who they were pitching early in the week. That way you knew when you were going to be facing Don Newcombe, Preacher Roe, Carl Erskine or Billy Loes and you would gear up for it. It was always that way, you look ahead. But you looked ahead to the Dodgers more than anyone else.

“When Eddie Stanky and I came over from the Braves in 1950, it meant Leo Durocher was acquiring the kind of team he wanted. The Giants were changing over from a Mel Ott kind of team, a power-hitting team, to a Durocher-type team that played the hit-and-run, bunted and hit behind the runner.

“I’m excited about the Met team this year. I really like the makeup of that club. I just love to see great pitching and guys who can do things with the bat. You see that from that Hernandez fellow, using the whole field. What he can do with a bat makes it a nightmare for the opposing manager. I think they’re going to be a little bit closer before this thing is over. I’m not pulling against anybody else, but I am pulling for that ball club because I like its makeup.

“But the teams we had in New York 30 and more years ago were something. One city with three outstanding teams. That was special. One year I held out. It was 1953. I respected Reese and Rizzuto. I thought Reese was one of the greatest all-around shortstops to play the game. But I had outhit those guys, had as many total chances. I didn’t go public with my salary demand because I respected those two. But I went to Chub Feeney the Giants’ general manager at the time. Chub said, ‘Wait a minute. When you’ve been in as many World Series as Rizzuto and Reese have been in. . . . ‘ It was hard to argue with that.”