LEFTY GETS A LONG LOOK AT CINCY FROM THE COLT .45S' BULLPEN Cincinnati, Ohio July 8, 1962 Dear Alice, I'm writing this from the bullpen at Crosley Field, where we have a double dip going against the Reds. For us relief pitchers time drags its toes through the sand. We do all kinds of things to help the clock along, like pitching pennies and playing Tic-Tac-Toe and once in a while we even warm up. Bobby Tiefenauer sews. Right now he's making a doily, with blue baseball stitches in the middle that form the words "Don't Tread On Me." Teef is the one that's built like Abe Lincoln. Whoops. My attention was just diverted to the centerfield fence, because that's where John Edwards of the Reds just hit a ball off Bob Bruce, only over it. I don't know what Brucie threw up there but going out it was a fast ball. They got some mud flats beyond the fence in dead center, and they rise about 15 feet above the field. I guess there are maybe 50 fans out there now, making themselves comfortable and enjoying the game for free. You know, there's nothing I admire more than thrift. Some of them are sitting on folding chairs and they have blankets, picnic lunches and portable ice boxes filled with goodness knows what. As you see, the fans here are proud and independent. Once the Daughters of the American Revolution tried to get them to change the name of the team from Reds, because of Communism. So someone said, "Let the Russians change their name. We were the Reds before they were." It just goes to show you that baseball is bigger than politics. Well, we finally won a game the other day and all I can say is that it's a good thing. You know, our manager, Harry Craft, had a baby girl last Sunday-or rather, his wife Nelle did. Anyway, we hadn't won a game since the baby was born until Hal Woodeshick beat the Reds Friday night. We had lost five in a row and frankly, I was a little worried about that baby. You know how superstitious baseball people are. But we beat the Reds and now it looks like Harry will keep her. I tell you, Alice, with all the fuss everybody made you couldn't tell which baby got the bonus, Carole Ann or Ernie Fazio. That's the new kid on the team. Fazio. He's from Santa Clara, and we're all pulling for him. He had some terrible fights with the ball his first few games, but he's beginning to win some. The first time he started a big league game, in Houston, he went oh-for-three and made an error. Then he went into a slump. His next two games against the Reds he made three errors and struck out five times. Since then Ernie has switched from a 32-ounce bat to one that weighs 29 ounces because he says the lighter bat is easier to carry back to the dugout. Say, Alice, please don't show this letter to Nancy Giles, the wife of our traveling sec, Bill. You showed her the one about the hot spots Bill took me to in Los Angeles, and I think she must have said something to him about it. The last time we went out he took me to visit some friends of his who live in the country, outside San Francisco. It was a nice evening, but kind of quiet. I do think that the worst noise in the world is a cricket rubbing its hind legs together. I like San Francisco but I can't figure out why they built the whole town uphill. San Francisco confuses a lot of people, I think. When the Giants first moved here the fans booed Willie Mays. Then they would go down to the UN and cheer Khrushchev. Now Los Angeles is an easy town to understand. In LA even the boy scouts ask, "What's in it for me?" We flew out there after a night game in Houston on our last road trip, and it was nearly dawn when we landed. "This is the Bo Belinsky Bomber," quipped Billy Goodman as we got off the plane. "It comes in high at 5 AM." Aw, I think people pick on Belinsky because he's left-handed. Bo is supposed to have roughed up a girl last week, and it made Sky-Is-Falling headlines in the papers here. They had to stop the fight at 5 AM because she had a cut over one eye. A good cut man and she probably could've stayed in there. Well, you asked me to tell you about some of my buddies on the team, so I will. You heard of Hal Smith, of course. He caught for the Pirates in 1960 and hit a homer for them in the World Series. He won a game for us, the Colt .45s, one day and somebody told him: "Hal, when the chips are down there's no one I'd rather see at bat than you." Hal said, "You know, I feel the same way." We got to do something to build up Smitty's confidence. Then there's Joey Amalfitano, our second baseman. He worries all the time. Not just about baseball, everything. Like he wonders why Mitch won't sing by himself. What's he afraid of? Pidge Browne and Al Spangler just finished making a radio commercial with Tim and Bob, who are as nutty as toasted almonds. It was for an air conditioning company and I liked the part where Pidge says: "The other day a fellow asked me,"How do you like your Pidgiking, Fridge?'" We got several new guys on the Colt .45's and two of them are Bob Cerv. He has the biggest thighs in baseball. It takes a 48-inch tape measure to circle them. They had to rip the sides out of another set of baseball pants to enlarge a pair to fit Bob. Mr. Richards told Whitey Diskin just to pick out a spare uniform, so he used mine. Sometimes I get the feeling I'm not very important around here. Well, we just got the sign to warm up, and I got to pick up the pennies. Will write again the next time something truly significant happens. You Know Me, Alice. Lefty