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Sims a proud strand in baseball’s magical thread

What makes baseball great, besides the look and smell of a ballpark on Opening Day and some of the things Kevin Costner mentioned in that speech when he was trying to put the moves on Susan Sarandon, is that there seems to be some mystical force, some magical thread running through the game that makes one remember certain players much longer than one ordinarily should. This is especially true of guys whose bubble gum cards you collected when you were 11.

I’m not talking about Willie, Mickey and The Duke, because everyone remembers the great ones. I’m talking about guys such as Willie Crawford, Mickey Tettleton and Duke Sims, who weren’t great but were good enough to spend 13, 14 and 11 seasons, respectively, in the big leagues, guys whose names might sound familiar but only in the way the rock bands Quarterflash or The Raspberries might sound familiar.

This column will focus on Sims, the former catcher and sometimes left fielder and first baseman for the Indians, Dodgers, Tigers, Yankees and Rangers, because of the aforementioned Willies, Mickeys and Dukes, he is the only one who has lived in Las Vegas since 1992. Sims never batted .300 and never hit 30 home runs, but in 1970 he did hit 23 — and drove in 56 — in only 345 at-bats. Prorate that over 162 games and see if you don’t come up with Johnny Bench.

But to prove my point about mystical forces and magical threads, did you know that 69-year-old Duane B. “Duke” Sims is the all-time leading home run hitter born in Utah?

Or that he retired in 1974 with exactly 100 home runs?

Or that on Sept. 30, 1973, he hit the last home run in old Yankee Stadium?

Or that he was behind the plate in Game 2 of the 1972 American League Championship Series, called the pitch that Billy Martin ordered that Lerrin LaGrow threw that struck Bert Campaneris square on the ankle, because Martin was tired of Campaneris stealing bases against the Tigers? Sims had the best view in the house when Campy went ballistic and flung his bat at LaGrow, nearly whirly-birding his head right off his shoulders.

And to think there’s at least a 50-50 chance that a baseball card with Duke Sims’ picture on it wound up in the spokes of my Schwinn Sting-Ray.

The mystical force and magical thread, in Sims’ case, goes back to the first day of his professional baseball career. He was signed by Carl Mays. Name sound familiar? If not, ask your grandfather. On Oct. 16, 1920, at the Polo Grounds in New York, Mays threw the pitch that struck Cleveland’s Ray Chapman in the temple. Chapman is the only player ever to be killed in a major league game.

Cue the “Twilight Zone” theme. Sims was also indirectly involved with one of the most seminal plays in All-Star Game history. Tuesday will mark the 40th anniversary of the brutal collision at home plate at Riverfront Stadium in Cincinnati where Pete Rose went one way, Ray Fosse’s catcher’s mitt the other.

Duke Sims and Ray Fosse were roommates with the Indians that season. Cleveland manager Alvin Dark had promised Sims the full-time catcher’s job in spring training. Then he gave it to Fosse. That’s how Sims became an outfielder and a first baseman and, the next year, a Los Angeles Dodger.

Sims, who is starting up a low-cost advertising business with former California Angles pitcher Rickey Clark that combines print media with the power of the Internet (dukesims.com), spent the 1970 All-Star break water skiing at Lake Placid, N.Y. He recalls watching the game, and he knew immediately that his roommate was injured.

Fosse’s left shoulder was separated, his career essentially destroyed. When I asked Sims if there was something about that play or Fosse that people might have forgotten, he said yeah, “He played the next night.”

It might have been Sims instead of Fosse. That was the season Sims hit those 23 homers. He was the American League alternate for the All-Star Game, back when players considered it an honor to be selected and never concocted lame excuses not to participate.

Two years later on Opening Day, Sims was behind the plate for the Dodgers when Willie Crawford — there goes that thread again — skipped home a perfect throw on the Riverfront artificial turf with Pete Rose barreling around third base. There was another collision. This one had a different result.

“I really stuffed him,” Sims said.

Las Vegas Review-Journal sports columnist Ron Kantowski can be reached at rkantowski@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0352. 

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