Garcia a link to baseball's past
01/20/2006
SURPRISE, Ariz. -- Dave Garcia has a twinkle in his eye. When you're 85 years old and still pulling on a baseball uniform, you twinkle. It's automatic. You're still a kid at heart.
That's why Garcia was having such an immensely good time at the Royals' mini-camp this week. He's a dear friend of manager Buddy Bell and the Royals have hired Garcia, a former manager of the Angels and Indians.
You want baseball insight? Garcia's got it. You want a player assessed? Garcia is the guy. You want some nostalgia? Garcia is overflowing.
Spring Training is just around the bend. Garcia can take you back to his first camp, just down the road from his East St. Louis, Ill., home. There were no Arizona or Florida trips for Minor Leaguers in those days.
Signed by the St. Louis Browns, Garcia trained in Belleville, Ill., with the Springfield Browns. He got beaned by a pitch.
"I didn't play for a year. It wasn't because of the injury as much as it was because of the fear. We didn't have helmets in those days and I was scared," he said.
"In those days, the guys on the Springfield club were veterans and they'd knock you on your fanny. I was scared to death; I was 17 years old."
Helping support his mother and siblings, Garcia returned to baseball. He remembers in 1941 piling into a car with Hank Bauer, also from East St. Louis, and another player for training in Grand Forks, N.D.
"The day we got there it was 13 degrees. The manager was Larry Bettencourt, an All-American football player and a good guy. We worked out in tennis shoes so we wouldn't slip," Garcia recalled.
"The Minor Leagues never went anywhere for Spring Training until after World War II. Whenever you played, that's where you went. I remember when snow covered the field. They drug the snow off the parking lot and it was asphalt and we practiced on the asphalt."
Yep, that's a long way from the warm, cushy surroundings enjoyed by today's players. Not to mention the monetary rewards, including meal money.
"When I was in Lake Charles in 1939, we got 75 cents a day meal money if we played on the road and came home after the game. If we stayed overnight, we got $1.50," Garcia said.
"Fred Hancock, the shortstop, and I stayed in the same house and the lady charged us $1.50 a week for a room. But every night, she had a glass of milk and cookies or cake so we actually lived there for free. Then she would wash our underwear and socks for 35 cents a week."
And, for a long time, the meal money didn't increase, he recalled.
"In 1948, I was managing Knoxville in what they used to call the Tri-State League. Hoyt Wilhelm was one of my pitchers. And we got $2 a day meal money," Garcia said.
"In 1967, I was managing Fresno in the California League and our meal money was $2 a day. In 20 years, it didn't go up. It's amazing."
Those were the days, too, when most players took winter jobs to make ends meet. Garcia was slinging sides of beef around the stockyards.
"For nine years, I worked at Swift & Co. in East St. Louis, Ill. Before I went there, Enos Slaughter worked there, too, when he was with the Cardinals," Garcia said.
"Some players, like Jimmie Foxx and those guys, lived on farms and they milked cows. It was different."
Garcia said he weighed 162 pounds the first year he manhandled the beef and came out 20 pounds heavier and much stronger.
His old buddy Bauer became a star for the Yankees and also managed the A's in Kansas City and the Orioles to the 1966 World Series championship. Bauer still lives in KC and used to visit Garcia when he'd come to town.
"When I was a coach at Milwaukee, we were sitting in the clubhouse and Pete Vuckovich, one of our pitchers, was there. He said, 'Tell me some baseball stories,'" Garcia said.
So Garcia told him about 1941 and the Grand Forks experience and all of that.
"And Pete said, 'What kind of money were you making?' I said, 'Well, I was getting $100 a month.' Bauer jumped out of his chair and said, 'How in the hell were you getting $100? I was only getting $75!' I said, 'One reason was I was a better hitter than you.' "
Garcia, who never played in the Majors, and Bauer had a good laugh over that.
Now, in less than a month, the stories will be flowing again. The Royals' players will get some rich history from a man who has lived it.
Best of all, they'll have their day lightened by that twinkle in Garcia's eye. He's still a kid at heart. They still call him "Davey."
Source: http://royals.mlb.com/
SURPRISE, Ariz. -- Dave Garcia has a twinkle in his eye. When you're 85 years old and still pulling on a baseball uniform, you twinkle. It's automatic. You're still a kid at heart.
That's why Garcia was having such an immensely good time at the Royals' mini-camp this week. He's a dear friend of manager Buddy Bell and the Royals have hired Garcia, a former manager of the Angels and Indians.
You want baseball insight? Garcia's got it. You want a player assessed? Garcia is the guy. You want some nostalgia? Garcia is overflowing.
Spring Training is just around the bend. Garcia can take you back to his first camp, just down the road from his East St. Louis, Ill., home. There were no Arizona or Florida trips for Minor Leaguers in those days.
Signed by the St. Louis Browns, Garcia trained in Belleville, Ill., with the Springfield Browns. He got beaned by a pitch.
"I didn't play for a year. It wasn't because of the injury as much as it was because of the fear. We didn't have helmets in those days and I was scared," he said.
"In those days, the guys on the Springfield club were veterans and they'd knock you on your fanny. I was scared to death; I was 17 years old."
Helping support his mother and siblings, Garcia returned to baseball. He remembers in 1941 piling into a car with Hank Bauer, also from East St. Louis, and another player for training in Grand Forks, N.D.
"The day we got there it was 13 degrees. The manager was Larry Bettencourt, an All-American football player and a good guy. We worked out in tennis shoes so we wouldn't slip," Garcia recalled.
"The Minor Leagues never went anywhere for Spring Training until after World War II. Whenever you played, that's where you went. I remember when snow covered the field. They drug the snow off the parking lot and it was asphalt and we practiced on the asphalt."
Yep, that's a long way from the warm, cushy surroundings enjoyed by today's players. Not to mention the monetary rewards, including meal money.
"When I was in Lake Charles in 1939, we got 75 cents a day meal money if we played on the road and came home after the game. If we stayed overnight, we got $1.50," Garcia said.
"Fred Hancock, the shortstop, and I stayed in the same house and the lady charged us $1.50 a week for a room. But every night, she had a glass of milk and cookies or cake so we actually lived there for free. Then she would wash our underwear and socks for 35 cents a week."
And, for a long time, the meal money didn't increase, he recalled.
"In 1948, I was managing Knoxville in what they used to call the Tri-State League. Hoyt Wilhelm was one of my pitchers. And we got $2 a day meal money," Garcia said.
"In 1967, I was managing Fresno in the California League and our meal money was $2 a day. In 20 years, it didn't go up. It's amazing."
Those were the days, too, when most players took winter jobs to make ends meet. Garcia was slinging sides of beef around the stockyards.
"For nine years, I worked at Swift & Co. in East St. Louis, Ill. Before I went there, Enos Slaughter worked there, too, when he was with the Cardinals," Garcia said.
"Some players, like Jimmie Foxx and those guys, lived on farms and they milked cows. It was different."
Garcia said he weighed 162 pounds the first year he manhandled the beef and came out 20 pounds heavier and much stronger.
His old buddy Bauer became a star for the Yankees and also managed the A's in Kansas City and the Orioles to the 1966 World Series championship. Bauer still lives in KC and used to visit Garcia when he'd come to town.
"When I was a coach at Milwaukee, we were sitting in the clubhouse and Pete Vuckovich, one of our pitchers, was there. He said, 'Tell me some baseball stories,'" Garcia said.
So Garcia told him about 1941 and the Grand Forks experience and all of that.
"And Pete said, 'What kind of money were you making?' I said, 'Well, I was getting $100 a month.' Bauer jumped out of his chair and said, 'How in the hell were you getting $100? I was only getting $75!' I said, 'One reason was I was a better hitter than you.' "
Garcia, who never played in the Majors, and Bauer had a good laugh over that.
Now, in less than a month, the stories will be flowing again. The Royals' players will get some rich history from a man who has lived it.
Best of all, they'll have their day lightened by that twinkle in Garcia's eye. He's still a kid at heart. They still call him "Davey."
Source: http://royals.mlb.com/
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