Rage. Peter Golenbock

another future Met, was at shortstop, and bonus boy Jim Lampe played third. Lampe was an outstanding fielder and a solid hitter, but he had one serious shortcoming that kept him from reaching the majors: He couldn’t catch a pop-up fly ball during night games. Jim wore really thick glasses, and at night, every time a pop fly would go up in the air, he’d yell, “I can’t see it. I can’t see it.” I don’t know how they signed that kid. They must have just scouted him during the day. If the shortstop couldn’t run over and make the play, the ball would just hit the ground.

      One of my finest performances came against the Elmira Pioneers, managed by Cal Ripken, Sr. I was warming up before the game, and Bob Johnson, who had moved up with me from Class A, was watching me throw.

      “Are you really going out to the mound with that shit?” Bob wanted to know. “Jesus Christ, we’re going to have to take the married men off the infield. I can catch that fastball with my bare hands. We’re in trouble here.”

      But there’s a difference between warming up and pitching in the game. Bob was taunting me about my fastball as I warmed up, but once I got out there, I struck out sixteen batters. The only hit I gave up was to Felix Delgado, the Elmira pitcher, a swinging bunt down the third base line that we let roll, and it ended up sitting on the foul line.

      I may not have been throwing very well in warm-ups, but once I got into the first inning, man, my juices just kicked in, and that was the best game I pitched in the Eastern League that year.

      My most memorable weekend during my season with Williamsport came after I met a stunning stewardess on one of the team’s flights. She had been Miss Alabama, she was living in New York City, and I couldn’t believe it when I asked her for her phone number and she gave it to me. She warned me, though, not to come over without calling first.

      After I called her to see if she’d be around, I decided to go to New York to see her.