Year of the Stealer

Last year's spectacle, in the era of the bunny ball, was dour Roger Maris grimly slugging 61 home runs over assorted fences to break Babe Ruth's 34-year-old record. The day seemed not far off when bleacher fans would wear the gloves and ballplayers would drink the beer. But this year, excitement suddenly came back to baseball--at least in ballparks where a coil-spring, 30-year-old shortstop named Maury Wills was playing for the Los Angeles Dodgers. In 161 games, with two games to go, Wills stole an even 100 bases, shattering the record of 96 set by Ty Cobb. and that was way back in 1915.

"Go! Go! Go!" Stealing was a forgotten art, they said, but all year long chants of "Go! Go! Go!" rolled through the stands every time Wills got on base. As often as not, Maury went, getting a perfectly timed jump on the pitcher, accelerating instantly, flashing into the base in a twisting, dust-churning slide. Baseball still has a few speed demons willing to test a pitcher's nerve and a catcher's long throw to second; rarely does anyone go for third or home. This year Wills stole third 14 times, home twice. On two occasions he stole three bases in a single game. And in all his attempts, only twelve times was he caught in the act (in 1915 Cobb was thrown out a foolish 38 times).

Going for the record in St. Louis last week, Wills looked like a walking mummy as he dressed for the game. Huge strawberries from sliding marked his right thigh, and it had to be armor-plated in adhesive tape. But his imploring fans were not disappointed. Singling to first in the third inning, he took off for second like a Texas jack rabbit; trying to cut him down, the St. Louis catcher threw the ball into center field. That gave Wills base No. 96 to tie the record. Four innings later, he went off for second again. The throw seemed to have him beaten, but it was high. Wills slid safely under the frantic tag to earn his 97th base and an exclusive entry into the record books. After the game, the Cards hopefully presented him with a base of his very own, "one you won't have to steal.'' Wills accepted it with thanks--and went on pinching bases anyway.

At the start of the season, the light-hitting Dodgers were picked for first place and a berth in the World Series largely on the strength of their pitching. But with Sandy Koufax (18-13 last year) out most of the year with an injured finger, and with a disappointing season for Johnny Podres, Maury Wills's base running has virtually carried the team. "Wills was worth 15 to 20 games to the Dodgers this year," says Houston Colts Manager Harry Craft. Yet last week not even Wills could assure the stumbling Dodgers first place. Losing eight of eleven games, his teammates frittered away a four-game lead to turn the National League race into a stumbling contest with the San Francisco Giants. Helpfully, the Giants lost ten out of 16, even though they were working with a healthier pitching staff and an outfield automatically rendered spectacular by the mere presence of Willie Mays (46 home runs, 136 runs batted in).

How Blase. To the imperious New York Yankees the only difference between their two potential series opponents was the 25,000-seat cushion of the Dodgers' Chavez Ravine over the Giants' Candlestick Park. Celebrating their own pennant, the 27th in 41 years, the Yanks were the image of champagne-sipping nonchalance. "Why should I be excited," sniffed Roger Maris, taking the series in his usual stride. "It's something we expected all along." But the Yankees do not have quite that much to be blase about. If Maris was last year's home-run terror, he was this year's loud out, batting .256 and hitting only 33 home runs. Mickey Mantle's spindleshanks spoiled what might have been his best season, stranding him on the bench for a third of the year. At 37, Yogi Berra could only manage a .222 average, and 1961's bullpen ace, Luis Arroyo, spent most of the year with his arm in a whirlpool bath.

For the series, there was always reliable Lefthander Whitey Ford (17 wins, 8 losses for the season), who was scheduled for heavy duty. And with a record in eight World Series of nine wins and four losses, Whitey could be counted on not to get flustered no matter whom he faced--the Dodgers and Maury Wills or the Giants and Willie Mays. But the Yanks hardly rated as long-odds favorites. In a drab pennant race that saw a perennial loser (the Washington Senators, now Minnesota Twins) come in second, and a baby in the league (the Los Angeles Angels) take third, they could not even win 100 ball games, while both the Giants and the Dodgers reached the century mark against tougher competition.

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