The Black Man’s Handshake

For many summers when I was a kid, my parents and my sister and I would drive from the NYC suburbs to visit my mom’s sister and her husband in Philadelphia, for a week visit.



Connie Mack Stadium

 One great part of the trip to Philadelphia for me was we always got to go to a Phillies game at old Connie Mack Stadium.

In any trip to see games there, my dad always referred to it as Shibe Park, no matter how much I corrected him. I had no idea what or who "Shibe" was, but I could recognize what a really run down part of the city the park was located in.

One year when my dad, uncle and I drove to a game we found a parking space close to the park. We got out of the car and 5 teenaged black guys seemed to come out of nowhere to ask my uncle and dad if they could "wash the car" for a few dollars?

My uncle spread a few dollars around, and we went on our way.

My dad asked Uncle George, "Why did you give them any money, they’re not going to wash the damn car?"

"I know," George answered, " but by giving them a few bucks, at least there’ll be a car to come back to when the game is over."

My dad and uncle made some racist comments that were too typical of the times, and I began to wonder how my dad could love Willie Mays so much, if he had such hatred for Negroes?

We sat in the upper left field stands that evening, and though I can’t remember who the Phillies played, I can still smell the cigar smoke, beer, hot peanuts, and hot dogs. There were some folks sitting behind us, one of whom had never seen a baseball game before. I seem to recall this guy was from Sweden, and his friends were introducing him to the classic American game. I can remember being fascinated listening to someone try to explain baseball to an adult that had no clue what the game was all about.



Pancho

 At another game, there was an older black couple sitting behind us, and they were laughing and sipping from a big bottle of gin for the entire game. They both had very thick southern accents, and as the game moved along, and they got more drunk, it was impossible for me to understand what they were saying, but they sure had a great time, even if it seemed to bother George and my dad a bit.

The Phillies had a big Cuban first baseman at the time named Juan Francisco "Frank" or "Pancho" Herrera, who was the object of as much scorn and heckling as any player I ever seen in over 50 years of watching baseball games. I was stunned at how nasty the fans were to him – I’d never heard anything like that at the Polo Grounds or Yankee Stadium. I found out soon enough that Philadelphia fans were famous for this type of thing, and because Pancho was big (6’3" and 220 lbs.) he became an easy target when he kept striking out about 33% of the time, instead of hitting homeruns every time at bat. My uncle got up and yelled at him that he was "bum," but everyone seemed to be calling him a bum, and booing him

Philadelphia was extremely racist back then, a blue-collar city getting more and more southern blacks moving in all the time. Pancho Herrera was not a southern black, he was a Cuban black, but the ‘hatred’ was just as palpable, and I know it translated in any language. The early 1960’s were a tough time. Boston had finally put a black player ("Pumpsie" Green) on their roster in 1960, the last team to do so 13 years after Jackie Robinson played his first game for the Dodgers.

Shibe Park was built in 1909

I’m not sure of the year for the game I am thinking of, but it was probably 1961. I went to a baseball game at Connie Mack Stadium with my dad, my Uncle George, and his friend who was a captain on the Philadelphia police force. The St. Louis Cardinals were in town to play the Phils.



Connie managed 50 years

 I would’ve been 8 years old, and the Phillies were terrible back then, but it was the only game in town, no matter how run down it was. Connie Mack’s Philadelphia A’s had played in the same park starting in 1909, when it was called Shibe Park. When Mr. Mack finally stepped down after managing the Philadelphia A’s for 50 years, it was 4 years later that the A’s were sold and moved to Kansas City. The Phillies bought the ballpark for $2,000,000 and re-named it after Connie Mack.The game I went to with my dad, uncle, and the police captain was a special event for me, as the police captain got a special parking spot, and his badge got us into the Phillie clubhouse.

I was in heaven, surrounded by real major leaguers getting ready for the game that night, and the captain brought me around to meet some of them, including Dallas Green, who was going to be the Phils starting pitcher. I shook hands with him, and he asked me what position I played, and who was my favorite player?

Had a tough evening

I told him I was a second baseman, and that the Yankee’s Bobby Richardson was my favorite player. He liked that, and said "Not Mickey Mantle, huh?"

I asked him if he was afraid of pitching to Stan Musial or Kenny Boyer, and he laughed.

He told me that I had to meet the Phillies All Star second baseman, sitting on a stool in front of his locker a few feet away.

The captain walked me over and I was introduced to Antonio Nemesio (Sanchez) Taylor, Tony, for short.

Tony was very good

Tony was another Cuban player, originally signed by the Giants, my dad’s favorite team. I knew all about Tony Taylor, he was a good player, an excellent fielder and a guy that stole a lot of bases. Plus, he was small. The information I can find on him now says he was 5’9", and 170, but I don’t believe that. My dad was 5’7", and he and Tony were the same height, when Tony stood up to shake the men’s hands.

I don’t think Tony’s English language skills were very good back then (though I’m certain his Spanish kicked the crap out of mine), but he had a fantastic smile, and he offered to shake my hand too.

I automatically put mine in his and we shook, but as I did, I noticed that even though he was black, the palms of his hands were mostly a lighter color. It also occurred to me that I had never touched a black person before. I also thought that perhaps some of his black would rub off on my hand? I figured that’s what happened to make his hands lighten up in color?

"Thanks Mister Taylor," I said.

"You’re welcome kid," he said, smiling again.

I walked away and I sneaked a peek at my hand, to see if any black had rubbed off. I couldn’t see any, and thought about asking my dad about it, but I kept quiet.

Stan was the Man

We found our way to our box seats a couple of rows behind the third base dugout, and watched the Cards kick the crap outta the Phillies. I don’t remember the final score, but it was something like 14-4, with Musial hitting 2 or 3 doubles, and Boyer smashing two home runs. I remember hoping that Dallas Green wouldn’t be pissed at me for maybe jinxing him, but I figured he knew Musial and Boyer were great hitters before he heard it from me.

We kept the tradition alive in the coming years of attending at least one game each summer, and within a couple of years the Phillies started to become a very good team. I got a whole bunch of autographs one game, including Johnny Callison, Chris Short, and Richard "Dick" Allen, who remains one of the best pure hitters I have ever seen, and may be the best black ball player the Phils have ever had. Philadelphia and the fans made his life miserable too.

My mom made my life miserable when she washed the pants where I’d stashed the autographs, but I got over it pretty quickly.

My love of baseball took deeper roots as the 1960’s progressed, and I started to devour copies of The Sporting News, which billed itself as "Baseball’s Bible." They used to have every single box score from not just MLB games, but every AAA Minor league game each week. "TSN" was a baseball junkie’s drug, and I read and re-read each issue, and memorized all the stats.



Joe Falls - Detroit Free Press &TSN

 There was a writer from the Detroit Free Press named Joe Falls, who wrote a column for TSN. I think it was sometime in the later 1960’s when he was writing about a conversation he’d had with his son, who was about 10 years old.

Falls had to explain that there were no black players allowed in the majors until 1947, which then was only about 20 years ago.

His son was astounded, and said, "Well that’s really stupid, they have the best players."

Tony Taylor stayed with the Phillies until he was traded to Detroit in June of 1971. He played parts of 3 season for the Tigers, but came back to Philadelphia for the final 3 years of his 19 season MLB career, returing at the age of 40.

I was a fan of the guy for a long time, and always rooted for him.

I’d like to think some of the black wore off on me after all.

Thanks, Mister Taylor.