Fun for the Fireman

By the custom of the relief pitcher's craft, he should have emerged from the bullpen with stoic mien and plodded his way to the mound like a tired Atlas about to shoulder the weight of the world. But it seemed that whenever the Chicago White Sox managed to mount an attack against the Los Angeles Dodgers in the World Series, the tall, strapping (6 ft. 2 in., 202 Ibs.) righthanded rookie sallied out of the Dodger bullpen with a spring in his step and a grin on his face. Confessed unabashed Larry Sherry, 24: "I just plain like to pitch."

When he was through throwing his assorted hard stuff (sliders, curves, fast balls) at the White Sox, Fireman Sherry had completed one of the great pitching performances in World Series history. Sherry saved the second game for the Dodgers, 4-3, by relieving Johnny Podres in the seventh, allowing only one run. He saved the third, 3-1, by getting Outfielder Al Smith to bounce into a double play with the bases loaded in the eighth, fanning three men in the ninth. In the fourth game, he set down the White Sox without a hit in the eighth and ninth, was credited with the 5-4 win. By the sixth game Lawrence Sherry was so eager to pitch that he swaggered in from the bullpen in the fourth inning with unconcealed, cocky cheer. He shut out the White Sox the rest of the way, won the 9-3 game that gave the World Series to the Dodgers.

"Nothing Bothers Me." Little in Pitcher Sherry's background hinted that he would ever make the World Series, let alone allow just one run in 12 2/3 innings for a startling earned-run average of .71. Son of a Los Angeles dry cleaner, Sherry was born with clubfeet, did not recover from corrective surgery until he was twelve. But Larry grimly pitched by the hour to Brother Norm (now a third-string catcher for the Dodgers), eventually developed enough speed to be a star at Fairfax High School. Signed by the Dodgers, Sherry looked like just another scatter-armed fireballer, once walked 15 men in three innings, had one losing season after another as he wandered through the lower reaches of the minors (Santa Barbara, Great Falls, Mont., Newport News).

Pitching in Venezuela last winter, Sherry learned from Old Dodger Pete Reiser how to throw a slider, this summer finally conquered his control. Even so, Sherry had an unimposing 6-7 record at St. Paul in July when the Dodgers took a chance by bringing him up. But Rookie Sherry developed confidence under the pressure of the Dodgers' hard drive for the pennant, compiled a 7-2 record in the National League. "When I come in from the bullpen," he said, "nothing bothers me."

Jerry-Built Competence. Sherry was an appropriately unlikely hero for an unlikely Series between two jerry-built teams. Compared to the memorable struggles in recent years between the Yankees and the Braves or Dodgers, the 56th Series produced little great baseball.

Part of the blame could be put on the horrendous playing conditions of the Los Angeles Coliseum, a converted football stadium that permitted the biggest crowds in World Series history (277,750 in three games) but nearly ruined both teams in the process. The cozy screen in leftfield (251 ft. at the foul line) clanged like a Chinese gong under the impact of balls that would have been easy outs in other parks. On occasion, outfielders staggered about mazily as flies descended out of the sun. Batters strained to pick out the ball from the backdrop of shirtsleeved bleacherites in centerfield. "I don't know how these fellows can even hit the ball," confessed Umpire Ed Hurley. "The ball just seems to explode in your face."

In the end, the aging veterans of the two teams canceled each other out (the Dodgers' Hodges, Furillo and Snider v. the White Sox's Wynn, Kluszewski and Lollar). The Dodgers won because their defense turned the touted Chicago go-go attack to molasses. The whiplash throws of Catcher John Roseboro allowed only two White Sox to steal second in the entire Series. The Dodgers' slick infield, built around the double-play combination of Shortstop Maury Wills and Second Baseman Charley Neal, both lean and limber as greyhounds, outmatched Chicago's famed duo of Shortstop Luis Aparicio and Second Baseman Nellie Fox (7 double plays v. 2).

Most important of all, the Dodgers found they could stop the White Sox cold whenever they pleased merely by calling in Larry Sherry to have some fun on the mound. Admits Chicago Manager Al Lopez: "Sherry was the difference."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.