Friday, Jun. 04, 1965

The Year of the Rookie

It is by no means certain that the Detroit Tigers' Willie Wattison Morton, 22, will be the American League's newcomer of the year. He could, for instance, eat himself out of a job--the way he almost did last year when he showed up for spring training with 211 Ibs. distributed haphazardly around his 5 ft. 10 1/2 in. frame. Willie obediently went on a diet, slimmed down to 189 Ibs., and seemed to have a first-string outfield job all wrapped up. Then one day, a teammate slapped him on the backside while he was trying to cut a shoelace with a knife. When the doctors finished sewing his hand together, Horton was shipped back to the minors--to Syracuse, where he hit 28 homers and drove in 99 runs.

This spring, Willie was having trouble breathing, so the Tigers ordered surgery to remove polyps from his nasal passage. Willie's nose has been bleeding off and on ever since. But last week he was batting .379--the second highest average in the American League--and 18 of his 36 hits have gone for extra bases. Tiger teammates now chant, "Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, blast off!" every time he comes to bat, and Horton has responded by clouting nine home runs--seven of them tape-measure blasts that traveled at least 400 ft.

Best in History? All around the major leagues, 1965 is an exceptional year for new faces. "If every other club has what we do," says Manager Bill Rigney of the Los Angeles Angels, "this has got to be the greatest bumper crop of rookies in history." Rigney has five rookies on his roster, and three of them have starting berths. Centerfielder Jose Cardenal, 21, is hitting .286, has stolen ten bases. Pitcher Marcelino Lopez, 21, is the ace of the Angels' mound staff with six victories, only three defeats, and Third Baseman Paul Schaal, 22, has cracked eight homers. At Kansas City, Manager Haywood Sullivan, a rookie himself, is frankly ecstatic over his prize find: Catcher Rene Lachemann. A one time bat boy for the Los Angeles Dodgers, Righthander Lachemann, 20, has so far played almost exclusively against lefthanded pitchers, but he owns the highest batting average on the Athletics (.400), has hit two homers, driven in five runs.

The floundering New York Yankees would just as soon forget the season's opening month--except for Lefthanded Fireballer Gil Blanco, 19, a strapping (6 ft. 5 in., 215 Ibs.) bonus baby from Phoenix, Ariz., who has pitched seven innings in relief, has yet to give up his first major-league run. The Yanks hope that Blanco will help make up for the loss of Curt Blefary, 21, whose college education the Yankees are paying for --even though he plays for the Baltimore Orioles. Signed by New York in 1962, Outfielder Blefary was picked up by the Orioles on waivers for the bargain-basement price of $8,000. So far this year, Blefary has hit eight homers (three against the Yanks), has driven in 22 runs.

Take a Hike. Two of the season's most colorful rookies belong to the National League: San Francisco's Japanese Pitcher, Masanori Murakami, 21, and New York Met Outfielder Ron Swoboda, 20, who is of Polish ancestry but has a Chinese stepgrandfather. Object of a contract hassle between the Giants and Japan's pro Nankai Hawks, Murakami is a lefthanded reliever with precise control, a nifty curve, and all the guts in the world. Once, when Giant Manager Herman Franks walked out to the mound to give him instructions, Murakami growled: "Take a hike." His record: nine strikeouts, only two walks in nine innings.

Swoboda is the stuff Met legends are made of. His fielding is downright atrocious: he has already flubbed at least half a dozen fly balls this spring. At the plate, though, Swoboda has a certain appeal--like a .298 batting average, eleven homers, 28 R.B.I.s. Manager Casey Stengel alternately calls him "So-vota," "Sebolta," and "Saveta." But he knows a hitter when he sees one. "This feller," says Case, "if they give him some stock for each year and what he does, he will own a ball club about 15 years from now."

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