Palmer, Morgan Will Always Remember Ones That Got Away

During careers that ran along parallel tracks and finally arrived at the same destination after almost three decades, Jim Palmer and Joe Morgan pulled into the same station only twice. It’s a long ride to Cooperstown, and it was an insight into their characters that what each chose to remember was a moment of failure.

For Palmer, the lean and limber right-hander of the Baltimore Orioles whose style and grace made him a model pitcher, it occurred in the 1977 All-Star Game at Yankee Stadium. Both he and Morgan, the dynamic second baseman for the Cincinnati Reds, were at their peak. Palmer was coming off a second consecutive Cy Young season in the American League and Morgan had collected his second consecutive National League Most Valuable Player award only the previous fall.

Before the patrons could even consider the significance of the meeting, Morgan, the lead-off batter, introduced himself in emphatic fashion. “I went 3-and-2 on Joe,” Palmer said. “I knew if I walked him and he felt good, he would steal second. And if he felt really good, he would steal third. That would be like throwing a triple. So I threw a fastball that he hit into the stands.”

On that hot night, of course, Palmer proved to be an equal opportunity pitcher. Left-handed hitters, right-handed hitters, it didn’t matter. “Greg Luzinski and Steve Garvey homered off me, too,” he said. “When (manager) Billy Martin came to the mound, I said, ‘What took you so long? I thought you wanted to win this game.’ ”

Morgan wouldn’t be outdone in true confessions. Palmer didn’t remember another meeting. He didn’t even remember retiring Morgan on a line drive in the second inning of the same game. “He only remembers the time I hit him,” Morgan volunteered. “But I remember the third game of the 1983 World Series.”

By then, both men were nearing the end. Palmer spent most of the season on the disabled list and didn’t warrant a starting assignment in either the playoffs or the Series. Morgan was making his last stop in the National League, with a group of codgers the Philadelphia media had branded the Wheeze Kids.

After the Orioles and the Phillies split the first two games in Baltimore, Philadelphia took a 2-0 lead against an ineffective Mike Flanagan in Game 3. Manager Joe Altobelli batted for his pitcher in the top of the fifth and replaced him on the mound with Palmer, one day shy of his 38th birthday. The first batter he faced was 40-year-old Joe Morgan. Palmer retired the man on a pop to second, worked two scoreless innings and was credited with his last victory in the major leagues when the Orioles rallied for a run in the sixth and two in the seventh.

Palmer, as glib as ever, knew why the meeting had slipped his mind. “I was senile by then,” the pitcher said. But Morgan never will forget the sight of that Series slipping away in what he called his “last hurrah.”

“Except for Baltimore,” the second baseman said, “it would have been a dream season.” To which Palmer, seated alongside the man in a New York hotel room Wednesday, raised his hand and pointed to the World Series ring on his finger.

Both men laughed. “It’s all right that Joe hit that home run,” Palmer decided, “now that we’re both in the Hall of Fame.” Elected by members of the Baseball Writers Association of America in their first year of eligibility, they will be inducted together on Aug. 5.

That each was quick to recount the negative said volumes about their critical approach to the sport. Palmer did not forget many homers, nor many of the instances in which he came so close to yielding what would have been his first grand slam. Morgan kept notebooks in which he would write his pluses an minuses each day.

“I would not just walk away from a game,” he said. “I made notes of my errors and good plays. I never left the ballpark immediately after a game. It gave me a chance to reflect on what I did, both positively or negatively, for the team.”

Physical talent takes a player only so far. Baseball is a learning experience. Additionally, each man had a desire to achieve, a drive to succeed.

For Morgan, it lay in his size. At 5-foot-7 and 155 pounds, he shouldn’t have been able to hit a ball so hard or to do so many things that could turn a game. “I always felt my size was a positive thing,” he said, transforming a debit into an asset, “because I had to work so hard.”

But it sure fooled others, starting on the occasion of his first major-league game with the Houston Astros in 1963. In a game against the Phillies at the Astrodome, Morgan came to bat in the ninth inning with a winning run on base and lined a base hit off veteran Johnny Klippstein. Actually, he thought it might have been Dallas Green, the former Yankee manager, but Green set him straight in a recent conversation.

What made the at-bat memorable for those beyond Morgan’s immediate family was the reaction of Philadelphia Manager Gene Mauch. “After the game,” Morgan recalled, “Gene yelled at him, ‘How can you get beat by a guy that looks like a Little Leaguer.’ ” Then the volatile Phillies’ skipper, 5-10 in his stocking feet, littered the visiting locker room with the lavish post-game buffet prepared by the clubhouse man. He later paid for some new suits out of his own pocket.

Palmer, equipped with a wondrous fastball and a classic pitching build, wasn’t spurred by something as convenient as the perception of others. Instead, he had Earl Weaver. Palmer and his manager, the Earl of Baltimore, were forever haggling on the mound and off. Together, they formed one of the odd couples of baseball. They agreed to disagree on virtually every topic, pitching included.

“But Earl was there to win,” Palmer said in appreciation. “He would not accept mediocrity from me. He’d tell me, ‘You’re out there for nine innings,’ and he would expect that of me. He made me a great pitcher and I thank him for it. Just don’t let him know I said that.”

Both Hall of Famers have stayed close to the game by broadcasting. In their civilian finery Wednesday, they appeared trim enough still to be competing. “I think I could still walk out there now and be as good as ever, for one at-bat,” Morgan said. “But as you get older, you can’t sustain your concentration over three or four at-bats, or over a week.”

Just a few months ago, as he was vacationing in the Sonoma Valley during the Series Interruptus, Palmer received an invitation to make a comeback. It came in the form of a call from Weaver, about to take his place in the dugout in the new senior league. “He said, ‘We need you,’ ” Palmer recalled.

“I said, ‘Earl, can you get me $500,000 -- $600,000?’ He said, ‘I think I can give you $5,000 a month.’ I told him, ‘You’re happy, aren’t you, Earl? You’re finally making more than the players.’ ”