THE YEAR OF THE PITCHER : 1968 : Big Stars Were Drysdale, Gibson, McLain; Seven Had ERAs Below 2.00

The backdrop was a year that belonged to the stark realities of the world, of the assassinations of Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King, of Vietnam and the riotous Democratic National Convention in Chicago.

Baseball in 1968 was a positive distraction. That world belonged to the pitchers, collectively and individually. It was the year they ruled the game, perhaps as never before.

Not even 20 years can dim the accomplishments of Don Drysdale of the Dodgers, Bob Gibson of the St. Louis Cardinals and Denny McLain of the Detroit Tigers, to name three. They, along with others, posted some of the most impressive numbers in baseball history. It was the Wonder Year for pitchers, a lock-it-in-a-time-capsule kind of season.

“I don’t think you could come up with a real good reason why it happened,” Gibson said recently. “I suppose because we (pitchers) were working on it and we just got good at it. I’d like to think that. But it was just one of those years, period.”

One of those vintage years.

The handwriting was on the dome by midseason, when the All-Star game was held indoors at Houston. The teams combined for 8 hits and 20 strikeouts, and the National League won with a run in the first inning--Willie Mays singled, went to second on a botched pickoff play, advanced to third on a wild pitch and scored on a double play.

And for the year as a whole . . .

Drysdale pitched 58 consecutive shutout innings, and Gibson finished with an earned-run average of 1.12 while pitching more than 300 innings. Five American League starters finished with ERAs below 2.00--Luis Tiant of the Cleveland Indians, 1.60; Sam McDowell of the Indians, 1.81; Dave McNally of the Baltimore Orioles, 1.95; McLain, 1.96, and Tommy John of the Chicago White Sox, 1.98--as did Gibson and Bob Bolin of the San Francisco Giants, 1.99, in the National. In the years since, only 11 pitchers, total, have finished under 2.00.

McLain became the first, and only, pitcher since 1934 to win more than 30 games. Juan Marichal of the Giants pitched 30 complete games, went 26-9 and threw 326 innings--and didn’t get a single first-place vote in the Cy Young Award balloting. Gibson went 22-9 and had 13 shutouts, the second-most ever behind Grover Cleveland Alexander’s 16 in 1916, and could honestly have been called a hard-luck pitcher.

Gaylord Perry of the Giants pitched a no-hitter against the Cardinals on Sept. 17 at San Francisco, and the next day Ray Washburn of the Cardinals returned the favor. Seven times, pitchers had games with 15 or more strikeouts during the regular season. McDowell, Tiant and the late Don Wilson of the Houston Astros did it twice, and Gibson did it once. Jim (Catfish) Hunter of the Oakland A’s, a month shy of his 22nd birthday, became the youngest pitcher to throw a perfect game in this century.

There were five no-hitters, the most since 1917. There were also 11 one-hitters in the American League and 6 in the National League. Carl Yastrzemski of the Boston Red Sox led the American League in batting--with a .301 average. There were about 300 fewer home runs in 1968 than in 1967 and 700 fewer than in ’66. McDowell struck out 40 batters in one three-game stretch.

Wilbur Wood of the White Sox appeared in 88 games, which would merely qualify him as a workhorse these days, but it was the record at the time. Tiant allowed an average of 5.30 hits every 9 innings, second only to Nolan Ryan’s 5.26 in 1974. National League pitchers threw 185 shutouts, and American League pitchers had 154, both records for 10-team leagues. The National League set the record for 1-0 games with 44.

Twenty years later, three performers have stood the test of time.

THE ZERO HERO

Drysdale, 14-12, 2.15 ERA, 8 shutouts, 6 consecutive shutouts, scoreless streak of 58 innings, 155 strikeouts and 56 walks, 201 hits allowed in 239 innings. Beyond the scoreless streak, the 1968 season, after going 25-9 in 1962 and 23-12 in ‘65, wasn’t a great year for Drysdale. Moreover, he hurt his arm in a dugout tumble in the Astrodome during spring training that, he says, was the beginning of the end of his career, what with his retirement in 1969 because of arm problems. Still, one of the greatest rolls in baseball history made it magical nonetheless.

“I used to break down a game, pitch by pitch and hitter by hitter and inning by inning,” said Drysdale, who at the time had a 3-month-old boxer named, appropriately, Shutout. “So it was very easy to go along from one shutout to the next. The clubs we had in the late ‘60s, we didn’t score too many runs, so you kind of had in the back of your mind going out there that, ‘I might have to shut this guy (the opposing pitcher) out.”

Club by club, during May and June, Drysdale picked apart the National League--the Chicago Cubs, 1-0, the Astros, 1-0, the Cardinals, 2-0, the Astros again, 5-0, the Giants, 3-0, and the Pittsburgh Pirates, 5-0. From May 14 to June 4, he started six games, each with three days’ rest, as was his pattern.

The string of shutouts broke the 64-year record of Harris (Doc) White of the White Sox. At 46, he broke Carl Hubbell’s 35-year-old National League record for consecutive shutout innings and aimed for Walter Johnson’s 55-year-old major league mark of 56.

Although Drysdale didn’t get the massive recognition--and pressure--that later engulfed McLain, he was, of course, getting attention. One particularly pleasing acknowledgment came from Bobby Kennedy the night Drysdale set the shutout record and the senator from New York won the California primary.

Drysdale and Kennedy were, as the pitcher puts it, acquaintances. They had met at a Job Corps function and developed something of a friendship, getting together at Kennedy’s Hickory Hill home in suburban Washington, or with mutual friends in Southern California. That Kennedy would take time out from one of his greatest moments to salute Drysdale made the accomplishment a little more special.

That night, Drysdale was late in leaving Dodger Stadium. While driving home to Hidden Hills, he heard the news on the car radio. Kennedy had been shot.

“It would have meant so much more if that would have never happened,” said Drysdale, now an announcer with the Dodgers.

The days that followed were strange. Bearing down on one of the most impressive records in the game, his mind was awash with thoughts of Kennedy and his family and the possible conspiracy tie-in after the death of John F. Kennedy five years earlier. Drysdale, the type of person who could usually put his emotions aside, wasn’t having much success this time.

Drysdale’s next start was scheduled June 8, the day Kennedy was buried in Arlington, Va. Drysdale watched the proceedings on television and then went to Dodger Stadium to take on Philadelphia--and Walter Johnson.

“When I’m driving to the ballpark, all of the sudden it’s like somebody put blinders on me,” he said. “Everything is blocked out and I’m thinking about baseball. I’m thinking about the Philadelphia Phillies.”

Vin Scully set the tone minutes before the game:

“They say the eye of the storm is the quiet part, and here, Dodger Stadium, has suddenly become the eye of the storm,” he told the radio audience. “A large crowd, approximately 50,000, and the winds of all kinds of emotions swirling around the ballpark. Certainly there are still the winds of sorrow; what a dreadful, drab and heartbreaking day it has been. But as the gray skies now slowly start to disappear to night, so, too, the feelings in the ballpark are turning. And from almost the pits of despair, we concentrate on a child’s game--a ball, a bat and some people hitting it, throwing it and catching it, and particularly Don Drysdale’s big night in baseball.”

It turned out to be just that. Drysdale, who would turn 32 later in the season, blew a fastball by Clay Dalrymple on a 3-and-2 count to reach 56, then opened the next inning, the third, by getting Roberto Pena on a ground ball to third baseman Ken Boyer. Johnson, the Big Train, had been derailed.

The crowd gave him a huge ovation, and pitcher Larry Jackson, the next batter, tipped his cap to the mound to acknowledge the occasion. Drysdale nodded back.

That was also, however, the night the streak ended. The distinction belonged to Howie Bedell, who appeared in 67 games in his two-year, two-team major league career, to drive in Tony Taylor with a sacrifice fly in the fifth inning.

“It kind of surprised me, because I didn’t think Bedell would do it,” said Drysdale, who was elected to the Hall of Fame in 1984. “I knew Tony Taylor was a good baserunner, no question about that, but I thought I’d get (Bedell) out. I didn’t make a real good pitch, and he just hit an ordinary fly ball. Once it left the infield, I knew it was over then.

“The basic thing right there was that I had to keep bearing down and win the ballgame because I was pitching against a tough guy in Larry Jackson. It was no deep sigh. I said, ‘Ya know, it’s over.’ But I’m still up a level because my adrenaline was going to win the ballgame. The next thing on my mind was to forget about that (streak). ‘That’s over and done with, you’re luckier than hell it came this far anyway, now let’s get the next guy out.’ ”

The Dodgers finished ninth in the 10-team National League in hitting and seventh in fielding. Los Angeles batters were shut out in four of Drysdale’s losses and scored just one run in four others. Any more questions why he went 14-12 and was the lone pitcher on the team to finish better than .500?

31 WINS, 24 PEPSIS

McLain, 31-6, 1.96 ERA, completed 28 of 41 starts, 336 innings pitched, 280 strikeouts , 63 walks, 6 shutouts. Named American League most valuable player and Cy Young Award winner.

Let’s put an end to a couple of myths.

On the cover of Sports Illustrated, that wasn’t McLain jumping for joy with teammate Al Kaline on the field at Tiger Stadium just after win No. 30. It was Kaline holding up McLain, who, after watching Willie Horton drive in the winning run in the bottom of the ninth, jumped so high in the dugout that he hit his head on the concrete roof.

“I was absolutely, no question about it, out cold for a moment,” McLain recalled.

Second, McLain wasn’t drinking 15 Pepsis a day back then, as several articles claimed. Try 20 to 24 a day, some from the cooler he had installed in the back seat of his car. A case of Pepsi a day! And you thought 31 wins was an impressive feat.

Twenty years ago, the one they called Mighty Mouth didn’t do anything half speed.

Ask him about the fans in Detroit, and he’ll call them “the worst I’ve ever seen.”

Ask him about his goal just before taking the field for his 29th victory, and he’ll say it was to be a professional musician, which he was, as a very good organ player.

Ask him about money, and he’ll talk about making more to buy Lear jets.

Ask him about his idol, and he’ll say Frank Sinatra.

“Sinatra doesn’t give a damn about anything and neither do I,” McLain, all of 24, told Life magazine that year.

You almost got the impression that he didn’t have time for immortality, to become the first person since Dizzy Dean to win 30 games. McLain was Showtime long before a 9-year-old boy in Michigan named Earvin knew what it meant. The “Today” show. Ed Sullivan dropped by the locker room.

McLain reciprocated and dropped by “The Ed Sullivan Show.” The Smothers brothers called to wish him luck, and so did Glen Campbell. There were promotional meetings for his album with the Denny McLain Quartet. The “Steve Allen Show” was wondering about an appearance. There was a side trip to Las Vegas for a nightclub session or some craps.

Somehow, pitching fit in. Detroit was still scarred by the riots of the previous summer and had just gone through a 267-day newspaper strike, so, again, baseball was a positive distraction, with McLain and the Tigers all the rage.

“To be perfectly honest, I don’t recall much about the season,” he said the other day. “I recall certain moments. I recall hitting a triple in my 29th win. I recall the 30th win, when I almost knocked myself out on the dugout ceiling. But I don’t recall much about individual games.

“I never had the chance to sit back and enjoy it all. I was too busy with all the commitments and all the hoopla. Heck, Detroit hadn’t seen anything like that team in 20 years and the place was going crazy. Everyone was enjoying the atmosphere, but I never had time.

“The attention was incredible. It seemed like everywhere I went, a reporter would be there, too. It got so bad, a cameraman, an ABC guy, followed me into the latrine (in the Tiger Stadium locker room before the 30th win). . . .

“I could not wish that year on anyone. You became so magnified. Every time you stepped an inch, people were around to see if you didn’t really take a foot. On the other hand, whether the time was good, bad or indifferent, it’s been a bonus to me. I’ll always be able to make a living because of the notoriety I got from baseball.”

McLain, now living in Ft. Wayne, Ind., and about a month away from having his autobiography, “Strikeout” hit the market, isn’t bitter when describing the season. One of his greatest gifts, he said, is a sense of humor, and it served him well 20 years ago.

It has helped in recent years, too. McLain was released from federal prison last summer when his conviction on racketeering charges was overturned, but the retrial isn’t scheduled until Sept. 7, so he waits. For this, he does give a damn.

“I’m ready to plead guilty to putting the iceberg in front of the Titanic,” he said.

HE HAD NL IN A FIX

Gibson, 22-9, 1.12 ERA, completed 28 of 34 starts, 13 shutouts, 304 innings pitched, 268 strikeouts, 62 walks, a streak of 48 consecutive shutout innings and 2 runs allowed in 95 innings, gave up 49 runs in 34 games, struck out 17 Detroit Tigers in Game 1 of the World Series. Named National League most valuable player and Cy Young Award winner. “He was awesome,” Drysdale said of Gibson. “He had a year where it was almost like a fix. A 1.12 ERA? You can hardly write those numbers down at the end of a year, let alone do it.”

Consistency and endurance made the year for Gibson, who bounced back after starting the season 3-5.

Only three pitchers had better ERAs in a season--Dutch Leonard’s 1.01 in 1914, Mordecai (Three Finger) Brown’s 1.04 in 1906 and Walter Johnson’s 1.09 in 1913--but Gibson went them all better by pitching more than 300 innings.

“I’ve had plenty of times when I threw harder,” recalled Gibson, now a Cardinal broadcaster. “But I very seldom threw a ball above the knee and very seldom threw it over the middle of the plate. It was on the corner, the corner, the corner.”

“It’s a groove. You can feel it. Only one time in your career do you feel that, if at all. . . . It felt like you were in complete control of every situation. If you got ball 3 and no strikes on a guy, you didn’t worry about it. ‘All right, I know what I have to do.’ That’s the way you felt. It was a great feeling.”

There are many fond memories of 1968, obviously. But there is also, still, some disbelief.

“The thing that stands out more than anything else is that I lost nine ballgames,” Gibson said. “How did I do that? I lost nine ballgames.”

There is amazement in his voice in the last sentence, and deservedly so. Consider the nine losses:

--To Ferguson Jenkins, en route to the second of his six straight 20-win seasons, and the Cubs, 5-1.

--To the Astros, 3-2.

--To the Philadelphia Phillies, 1-0.

--To Drysdale and the Dodgers, 2-0.

--To Gaylord Perry and the Giants, 3-1.

--To the Pirates, 6-4.

--To the Giants, 3-2.

--To the Giants, 1-0, on the day Perry pitched his no-hitter.

--To the Dodgers, 3-2.

St. Louis scored 12 runs in support of 32-year-old Gibson during the nine losses and was shut out three times. Two of those instances were during Drysdale’s scoreless streak and on Perry’s no-hitter, when Gibson allowed just four hits, including a first-inning home run to Ron Hunt, one of only two the San Francisco second baseman hit in 148 games that year.

“The no-hitter that I lost was probably a better ballgame than the 17 strikeouts,” he said.

In 1969, Gibson’s ERA ballooned all the way to 2.18 and his record dipped to 20-13.

“Terrible year, right?” he said, smiling.

Not at all. But it simply would have been routine in 1968.

DON DRYSDALE

W-L ERA G CG IP H ShO BB SO 14-12 2.15 31 12 239 201 8 56 155

BOB GIBSON

W-L ERA G CG IP H ShO BB SO 22-9 1.12 34 28 304 198 13 62 268

DENNY McLAIN

W-L ERA G CG IP H ShO BB SO 31-6 1.96 41 28 336 241 6 63 280