I’m told pitchers and catchers and most everyone else reported for “Spring” Training last week. Again.
So baseball is about to be back. Kind of. I think. Except for players who are opting out, and unless something goes horribly wrong.
I care. I miss baseball. Not to wax eloquent, but baseball is special in part because baseball lingers. In normal times, the game ushers in the optimism of Spring, spans the dog days of Summer, and fades away just as the leaves drop in the Fall. For those of us who live in the Midwest, baseball season marks the time we venture outside reasonably confident that we won’t have to shovel snow.
This Spring, baseball news was dominated not by reports of the feats of its stars, but by reports of wrangling between the owners and the players’ union as to how this pandemic-shortened season would be played out. I’m sorry, but 2020 has been too heavy and dark for me to conjure up an ounce of sympathy for anyone in that particular kerfuffle. As far as I can tell, the two sides traded proposals back and forth, got nowhere, and the commissioner exercised his right to basically dictate the terms under which the season would be played. Fine, I guess. However we got here, we are here. A sixty-game sprint of a season. Ready, go.
I need baseball back in my life because I need to hunt for the crooked numbers in the box scores. I need to be wowed by The Next Phenom. I need to lose myself in the tense grind a 2-1 gem of a pitchers’ duel. I need the spontaneity only sports can offer on a daily basis.
I enjoy baseball for many reasons, but one of them is my fascination with the names of those who have played the game. Apparently, heading into this season 15,213 men have appeared in Major League Baseball games – covering the National League, American League, and its predecessors. About six weeks ago – which seems like about six years ago – I spent some idle time scrolling through those names on the magical Baseball Reference web site, letter by letter. (Please don’t judge me for what I do with my free time – most of you watched Tiger King on Netflix.)
Obviously, there have been plenty of men who’ve played in the NFL, NHL, and NBA, too. Some of them had spectacular, quirky names too. But for me, there’s just something about baseball player names.
It could be that baseball names are just more sticky, given the nearly-every-day-for-six-months cadence of the 162-game regular season and the publication of hundreds of names in box scores every day (with vowels, if space allowed). Or perhaps the nature and pace of the game itself accounts for the shelf life of baseball player names. After all, the pitcher versus hitter match-up repeats itself, inning after inning, game after game. Each regular position player is the center of the action at least four or five times a game when he strides to the plate. Equal time, more or less, afforded the weak-hitting #8 hitter and the All-Star batting cleanup. The PA announcer, TV announcer, radio announcer – they all repeat the names of the game, because they have time to do it. For those prone to wallow in sport, the pace of baseball – too slow for some – is perfect.
The Birthday Boy
I started down this particular rabbit hole after a college friend reminded me of a trivia question that I’d heard many years ago. Here goes:
Which major league baseball player wore his birthday on his back?
trivia question credit to mike “bucky” Kadubek
The answer: a former White Sox outfielder/first baseman of my youth, Carlos May. He was born on May 17, 1948, and while with the Sox, at least, wore uniform #17. His jersey’s back said it all: “May 17.” Perfect.
So it got me to thinking, is there anyone else? First, I checked for other players with the last name May (there are 16, including Buckshot, Jakie, Pinky, and Carlos’ late brother, Lee May). But no dice – not one was born in May. Then I went through the other months. Again, no dice. The closest I came to finding another birthday-on-the-back was a pair of former American League hurlers: Darrell May, born in June, and Don August, born in July. So as far as I can tell, Carlos remains the answer – by himself – to a fun little trivia question.
As I got into my journey, I discovered that not only are the months of the year well represented as you scroll through Baseball Reference, but so too are the days of the week – like Monday (Rick) and Friday (Skipper). And even the Hollidays (Matt), like (Luke) Easter and (Steve) Christmas.
The Common and The Phenomenal
The letter M (2,040) edged the letter S (1,919) as the most common beginning letter for a MLB surname, dealing a blow to the 163 Smiths who have played in the big leagues, including Klondike, Skyrocket, and Phenomenal (the latter of whom was a 5-foot-6 lefty with a career pitching record of 54-74 – more Mediocre than Phenomenal, if you ask me).
The least common beginning letter was no surprise. The letter X has been shut out, so far. Apparently, a lad named Joe Xavier was drafted by the A’s out of Fresno State, played six years in the Minors, but topped out in AAA – in Denver, the Mile High City, coincidentally. Denied immortality as The Only Xavier.
Curiously, however, there was a young man from Trenton, Canada who played five seasons between 1878 and 1883 and whose name is listed in the record books as The Only Nolan. Of course, the same record books prove his boastful name wrong, as there were, in fact, two other Nolans (Gary and Joe) who made the bigs, and a couple of close calls (Aaron and Austin Nola). The Only was, however, the only Nolan to reach the Majors for nearly a century – until Gary showed up in 1967.
Just ahead of the Xs (the null set), the Is (59) and Qs (51) bring up the rear. But though they lacked in quantity of names, the Is and Qs brought forth quality. Who could forget the Iorg boys (Dane and Garth, not to be confused with Wayne and Garth of Wayne’s World fame), or the unforgettable submariner, Dan Quisenberry?
Of the 361 big-leaguers whose last name started with the letter O, 107 of them sported an apostrophe, too. Proof, I guess, that the Irish have fared well at the American pastime.
Not surprisingly, common names dominate. More than 40% of the 510 Js belong to the Johnsons (113) and Joneses (100). There have also been loads of guys named Miller (89), Davis (75), Hernandez (48), Martinez (45), and Gonzalez (40)in the Show.
When I reached the Vs, my curiosity was piqued, “could it be … a Veith? Maybe?” Alas, the closest I got was Peek-a-Boo Veach – no cigar. As I neared the end of my journey, I ran across Moses J. “Chief” Yellow Horse, who hailed from Pawnee, Oklahoma and was the first full-blooded Native American to make it to the Show, where he played not for the Indians or Braves, but for the Pirates in 1921 and 1922.
The Four Pfeffers
Among the hidden gems of my name-mining exercise: the Four Pfeffers. Don’t ask me why, but my eye stopped at the Pfeffers – maybe I have a weakness for the silent P, I don’t know. I do know the Pfeffers popped up shortly after I paused on the simple greatness of another name: Wily Mo Pena.
As it turns out, Fred Pfeffer was a middle infielder from Louisville who played from 1882-1897, mostly with the Cubs. He’s buried in Des Plaines, Illinois, not far from where I live. Then there was Monte Pfeffer, a diminutive 5-foot-4 shortstop who played for the Philadelphia Athletics in one game in 1913, ending his career with four plate appearances, a career batting average of .000, and an on-based percentage of .250, thanks to getting hit by a pitch in that game.
But the coolest story among the Pfeffers involves the second and fourth names on the list: Big Jeff Pfeffer and Jeff Pfeffer. When I saw those names, I thought: how cool, a father and his namesake son, both made the Majors – and long before Ken and Junior Griffey did it. But when I dug deeper, it got better. It turns out Big Jeff Pfeffer played from 1905-1911, and Jeff Pfeffer played from 1911-1924. What? Either Big Jeff was really old when he broke into the Majors or “Little” Jeff was a baseball version of Mozart.
As it turned out, neither was true, but there was an explanation. As it happens, Big Jeff Pfeffer was born in 1882 in Champaign, Illinois, and Jeff Pfeffer was born in 1888 in Seymour, Illinois. Its turns out Big Jeff was not Jeff’s father, but his brother. Seriously? Their parents could not think of different names for two sons born six years apart?
In fact, the Pfeffers had not taken the easy way out and named both sons Jeff. In fact, neither of their sons was named Jeff at all. Big Jeff Pfeffer’s given name was Francis Xavier Pfeffer, and he is listed as standing 6-foot-1 and weighing 185 pounds. Plain old Jeff Pfeffer was named Edward Joseph Pfeffer, and he was – of course, bigger than Big Jeff – at 6-foot-3 and 210 pounds. So two brothers from Central Illinois named Francis Xavier and Edward Joseph play in the Major Leagues, for some reason known as Big Jeff and (the bigger) Jeff. Go figure.
But there is more. It turns out “Little” (but bigger) Jeff Pfeffer was really, really good – just check out his Baseball Reference page. Playing for the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1916, Jeff Pfeffer, a right-hander, pitched in 41 games, started 36, completed 30, was 25-11, and had a 1.92 Earned Run Average. To this day, Jeff Pfeffer’s 2.31 ERA is second all-time in Dodgers’ franchise history – nearly 100 years after he hung up his spikes. (In first, Zack Greinke at 2.30.)
Baseball Feeds The Soul
Take a spin through Baseball Reference like I did and I’ll guarantee you one thing – you’re heading to the kitchen for a meal or a snack long before you get to the Zs. I love baseball player food names almost as much as I love ballpark food. Fruits, meats, vegetables, spices – baseball has all of them covered.
Do you favor seafood? Then let me offer up some Trout (Mike, Dizzy, or Steve), Catfish (Hunter) or (Tim) Salmon. More of a meat-and-potatoes person? Maybe a (Mark) Hamburger, some (Eddie) Bacon, or a plate of (Herman) Franks and Beans (Belve, Bill, Colter, or Joe). (If you just thought about a scene from Something About Mary, we should be friends.)
Of course, if this is all too pedestrian and you have a more adventurous palate, perhaps indulge in some venison (Rob Deer), (Bob) Moose, or Goose (Gossage). Have you tried Moose (Tony) Curry? Me neither. More mainstream spices suit you, perhaps? Then stick with (Jarrod) Saltalamacchia and Pepper (Bob, Don, Laurin or Ray).
Whatever you do for the main course, don’t forget the starch – maybe a Spud (Davis) or some Noodles (Hahn). And if you do opt for the burger, don’t forget a crisp, juicy (Brandon) Claussen pickle (not to be confused with (Fritz) Clausen, who is missing an s).
Ready for dessert? Baseball names present many choices. Maybe a slice of (Darryl) Strawberry shortcake, a (Chet) Lemon square, (Ken) Berry crisp, or Peaches (O’Neill) cobbler.
It’s no wonder, really, that baseball rosters teem with food – there are, after all, 13 Cooks (from Aaron to Ryan) and 10 Bakers (from Dusty to Home Run) who have suited up in the big leagues.
It Gets Better
For the churchgoers, baseball has given us a Monk (Cline), a Preacher (Roe), a couple of Priests (Eddie and Johnny), seven Deacons (from Jones to Donahue to Van Buren), eight Crosses (from Amos to Clarence), and a Luther (Hackman).
For those who study anatomy, baseball offers up several Hands (Bill, Donovan, and Rich), (Rollie) Fingers, a (Roy) Face, and – if you don’t sweat the spelling or pronunciation or clinical terminology too much – a Foote (Barry), some (Ricky) Bones, a (Wally) Backman, and a (Josh) Booty.
And then there are names that are just plain cool, or quirky, or fun to say. In that category, there are hundreds – far too many to mention here. As a tease, in that category I give you the likes of Al Albuquerque, Grant Balfour (a curse of a name for a pitcher), Mookie Betts (yeah, he does), and Milton Bradley (as proficient at board games as baseball games).
Last, but not least, there was one more thing I noticed during my little sojourn. I might blame the pandemic, because I’m not really sure what this says about me, but I could not help noticing that baseball’s roster of names reads like a list of male inductees in the Adult Film Star Hall of Fame (there must be such a thing, right?). While there have been no MLB players with names that start with X, there have been many who could have starred in X-rated movies without bothering to adopt screen names.
It’s hardly surprising, I suppose, that a game whose principal items of equipment are bats and balls would feature a roster of names that could make up the cast of characters in Boogie Nights.
Indeed, baseball has given us the likes of Dick Pole, Scotty Alcock, Pete LaCock and Jay Baller. Not to be outdone, of course, by Richard Lovelady, Slim Love, and Footer Johnson. And then, in that special section of the Hall of Fame reserved for the true luminaries of the seedy silver screen, the sport brings you Fred Woodcock, Hunter Wood, Ted Sizemore, and Mel Harder.
Of course, falling shy of induction, for obvious reasons: Walt Smallwood, Pop Swift, Jimmy Wacker, and any of the five players named Small or the four named Short.
Not able to top that, I’ll land this plane now.
So let’s enjoy the games and the names, new and old, from A to Z – or, should I say, from (David) Aardsma to (Tony) Zych. Let’s play ball and – next May 17 – don’t forget to raise your glass and toast the only birthday-on-his-back Major Leaguer ever, Carlos May.
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