The son of a Polish immigrant who died from breathing
fumes from a local zinc factory, Musial was used to personal setbacks. That
might be why, when he damaged his left shoulder as a young pitching prospect in
the Cardinal minor-league system, he accepted his manager’s advice and
transitioned, like Babe Ruth two decades before, into becoming an outfielder.
In St. Louis, Musial became the linchpin in the best years
of the franchise between the Dizzy Dean’s “Gas House Gang” of the 1930s and the
Bob Gibson-led team of the 1960s. From the early-to-mid 1940s, that squad won
four National League pennants and three World Series titles. During those
appearances, Musial established a reputation for clutch hitting, batting .315,.357,
.347 and .365 in the “Fall Classic.”
Even as he established a reputation for geniality in St.
Louis, Musial filled opposing fans with dismay for the way he crushed the hopes
of their hometown heroes. That was especially the case in Brooklyn, where
Dodger diehards groaned at what “that man” was doing to their pitchers. That
gave rise to the affectionate nickname he kept for the rest of his life: “Stan
the Man.”
(Such was the reverence felt in St. Louis for “Stan
the Man” that in 2012, the mainstay of the franchise for the prior decade, Albert
Pujols—now relocated to the California Angels—objected to the title bestowed by
his new team’s marketing department: “El Hombre.” "No, I'm not comfortable
with that, because I believe there's one Man and, believe it or not, it's
God," Pujols said in an ESPN “SportsCenter” interview. "God is
the Man and there's another Man, Stan 'The Man' Musial in St. Louis.
I know six years ago, when people first started making jerseys, I wasn't
comfortable with that because of the respect I have for Stan Musial.")
In The New Bill James Historical Baseball Abstract, the statistics maven compared Musial with Carl Yastrzemski,
another All-Star of Polish descent who spent two-thirds of his career in left
field and the rest at first base. But the most interesting similarity between the
two Hall of Famers is that they began as contact hitters before experiencing
power surges at age 27, when they achieved career highs in home runs. Each remained
a power hitter throughout the rest of their long careers.
Time—and let’s be frank, players’ increased use of
performance-enhancing drugs—has decreased the number of major league records (55)
held by Musial upon his retirement in 1967. But the following statistics
testify to his extraordinary consistency:
*His 3,630 hits (still fourth overall, behind only
Pete Rose, Ty Cobb and Hank Aaron) were divided exactly between home and the road;
*He walked more than twice as much as he struck out (696
times vs. 1,599 times)—and most contemporary players would kill to
strike out so little while hitting his number of home runs (475);
*Even when not clubbing homers, Musial made
outfielders sweat, as he earned more than 900 doubles and triples (a total
exceeded only by Tris Speaker);
*His 24 All-Star Game selections are second only to Hank
Aaron;
*He was named Most Valuable Player three times and was
among the top five in the vote counts another five times.
His inside-out swing and “corkscrew” stance (in which his
back actually faced the pitcher) were, to say the least, unusual. But it didn’t
matter: As teammate Joe Garagiola once joked, “Musial could hit .300 with a
fountain pen.”
Nobody could play like this without a burning rage to
compete, but Musial never took it out on opponents or umpires. (Astonishingly, he
was never thrown out of a game.) He
was held in such high regard by teammates that second baseman Julian Javier
named his son Stan after him.
Yet even rivals benefited from his kindness. Chuck Connors recalled how, during his 1951 season with the Chicago Cubs, he followed
up on teammates’ suggestion that he ask Musial for advice on how to break out
of a slump.
“I was a bum of a hitter just not cut out for the
majors,” Connors—later famous as a TV actor— remembered. “But I will never
forget Stan’s kindness. When he was finished watching me cut away at the ball,
Stan slapped me on the back and told me to keep swinging.”
In 2011 Barack Obama awarded Musial the Presidential
Medal of Freedom, the highest honor the United States can bestow on a civilian.
The great slugger passed away in 2013, mourned by true aficionados of the
National Pastime.
(For the best short treatment I have come across on “Stan
the Man,” I urge you to read this November 2012 post by blogger Joe Posnanski on Medium.)
