A BASEBALL FAN’S SURVIVAL GUIDE

LEFT FIELD

Mickey Rivers (1979-84)

Upon seeing his name on the lineup card on a frigid day in Milwaukee, Rivers cried, “It’s so cold out there, I saw a dog chasing a cat, and they were both walking.” Most famous logic: “Ain’t no sense in worrying about things you got no contrat over, ’cause if you got no control over them ain’t no sense worrying. And ain’t no sense worrying about things you got control over, ’cause if you got control over them ain’t no sense worrying.”

SHORTSTOP

Pepe Frias (1980)

On a clear blue night, the Rangers were about to land in Toronto when Frias, perhaps over-

come by the sea of city lights below, sighed and proclaimed, “Canada! My kind of town.” Very little “flake” depth at this position, though Bucky Dent (1982-83) did phone a hypnotist before each game for comfort.

THIRD BASE

Jim Fregosi (1973-77)

Among those responsible for getting teenage phenom David Clyde off the milk and onto beer. Always promised, “I’m gonna write a book and call it The Bases Were Loaded And So Was I. Randy Galloway wrote that Fregosi blew so many routine grounders that he “played third base like Ray Charles.” Fregosi bellowed in the clubhouse the next day, “Galloway! Remember one thing. No ground ball hit to me is routine!”

COACH

Art Fowler(1974-75)

In order of importance, Billy Matin’s drinking buddy and pitching coach. Would walk out to the mound, put his arm around pitcher’s shoulders and say, “Billy’s gettin’ pissed; do something.” His most frequent advice: “Throw strikes, kid; Babe Ruth’s dead.”

RELIEF PITCHER

Jim Kern (1979-81)

| Great “flake” depth at this posi-tion: Adrian Devine, Mike Marshall, Roger Moret, Sparky Lyle, Steve (Powder) Howe, Mitch (Wild Thing) Williams. Kern was most creative. Aboard a commercial airliner, ripped the last few pages out of a novel being read by a sportswriter and chewed them up. “It was a paperback,” Kern said. “Hardbacks are a little tougher to chew. The best part was the next day, seeing [the writer] in the back of a bookstore, trying to read the ending without having to buy the book.”

CENTER FIELD

Willie Davis (1975)

His Doberman chewed up his hotel room one spring, but maids were even more afraid of the yoga and strange chants emanating from within. Once sat down in center field-during a regular season game-and would not stand until manager Billy Martin walked out and coaxed him back up. Heavy into transcendental meditation.

DESIGNATED HITTER

John Lowenstin (1978)

Once sighed, “You know, a lot of People make a big deal out of someone hitting .300 in back-to-back seasons. Well, I hit .242 in back-to-back seasons. Do you know how much harder that is to do?” Runner-up: John Ellis (1976-81), who explained his retirement this way: “I wanna go find Bigfoot.”



STARTING PITCHER

Dock Ellis (1977-79) Bert Blyleven (1976-77) sneaked whoopie cushions under seats at airports, set off firecrackers near unsuspecting reporters, thought human gas was always worth a few laughs. But Dock Ellis is our winner. Loud in his quietest moments. In 1978 tagged manager Billy Hunter with the nickname “Little Hitler” and of Hunter once cracked: “He may be Hitter, but he ain’t gonna make no lampshade out of me.”

CATCHER

Rich Billings (1972-74)

Duke Sims (’74) could vomit anywhere, any time, on demand, but Billings won hearts by stand-ing up to impatient manager Ted Williams. “Ted wrote the book on hitting,” Billings said, “but what does that have to do with me? If I read a book by a surgeon, does that mean I could perform operations?” In ’72 Whitey Herzog replaced Williams and labeled catching the team’s No. 1 headache, to which Billings replied: “He’s obviously seen me play.”

RIGHT FIELD

Jeff Burroughs (1972-76)

Could not use the restroom unless he took along reading material. One day, with no magazines in clubhouse, had to borrow a can of tape from the trainer and read the label in order to complete his bathroom stay. Blamed a game-ending error on a sprinkler socket in right field. Problem: there wasn’t one.



SECOND BASE

KurtBevacqua (1977-78)

Taped above his locker these words: “If I hang

around here another 20 years, maybe I’ll get my act together.” During one particularly long stretch of inactivity, he promised to place a casket in front of his locker. “I must be dead,” he insisted, “so bury me.”



FIRST BASE

Pat Putnam(1977-82)

Carried a dead frog around in his backuniform pocket one spring day. Why? So thatwhen people asked what he had in his pocket he could sincerely reply, “Just an ol’ dead frog,” and then pullout the dried up, flattened remains.

MANAGER

Doug Rader (1982-85) Called his mother “Meat.” Astonished married friends by greeting them at his front door in the nude. “I come on like a sack of fertilizer,” Rader admitted. “But I don’t do stimulants. I don’t do anything to alternate the physiological condition of my body. It’s running too damn perfect at 82 percent body fat.”

OWNER

Brad Coxbett (1974-79)

Loud, brash, colorful, alarmingly impulsive. Consummated the trade for Sandy Alomar (1977) while standing at a urinal with Yankees executive Gabe Paul in men’s room of Fort Worth restaurant. Often conferred with 14-year-old son about trades. Usually had a cigar and drink in his hands. In Cleveland, while sitting amid a hostile crowd, challenged a nearby fan to a fight and held his own in mini-brawl.

YOUR TEXAS STRANGERS:

The ALL-TIME, ALL-STAR, ALL – FLAKE Team!

BY STEVE PATE

THE TEXAS RANGERS CLOSED last season a lethargic gang of spoiled and gloomy brats.

It was not always thus. We recall a time, many wild pitch-es ago, when the old Arlington Stadium cast of characters could hold its own against any opponents. Not on the field, but in the sheer number of misfits and flakes. If you’re gonna lose, at least be amusing.

To honor the memory of that bizarre ensemble, here is D Magazine’s All-Time Texas Rangers Flake Team.