The Lost Yankee

For 15 years, lantern-jawed Joe McCarthy helped fashion the Yankee legend. "You're a Yankee, young man," he hammered at his ballplayers. The name itself, lettered across a baseball uniform, became a symbol of invincibility. With Marse Joe as manager, the powerful New York Yankees won eight American League pennants before he stepped out of baseball two years ago. When he stepped back in again this spring, as manager of the archenemy Boston Red Sox, his old legend came back to haunt him.

Marse Joe, a practical man, kept telling himself there was nothing to the Yankee myth. He would beat them in a couple of games during spring training just to prove it. In one game he used five pitchers, three of them in one inning. In the old days, Marse Joe was famed for his reluctance to yank out pitchers in spring exhibitions. Even so, the Yankees walloped his Red Sox two for one, and pulled into Sarasota last week chestier than ever. McCarthy had to win this one.

The Yankees were playing for keeps too. Joe DiMaggio played the entire game. Manager Bucky Harris had let his best hitter go the distance in only three exhibition games--all against the Red Sox. Clearly, each team wanted to establish its superiority before the season even began. It was a war of nerves between the two clubs that would fight it out for the American League flag (the wise guys had already voted the other six clubs out of the running). The Yankees won again, 7-2.

Sad Sox. Nobody knew for sure just what was eating Joe McCarthy. He was still the frosty-eyed, all-seeing, silent Buddha. He sat on the bench, an empty space on either side of him, more unapproachable than ever. The only Boston player brash enough to sit near him is Ted Williams, who calls him "Mister McCarthy" with an inflection that might pass for respect but might also be a star player's impudence. The Boston sportwriters have already declared a cold war on Marse Joe because of his gruff refusal to answer questions. Said a Boston Post sportwriter: "I don't talk to him, unless absolutely necessary."

For a few weeks, McCarthy showed up briefly for press conferences in Room 313 at the Sarasota Terrace Hotel. Now, after practice, he goes directly to his own room, has his bottle of ale sent up, apparently enjoying and certainly inviting hostility. When asked by a Manhattan newspaperman (a man he had known for 20 years) what made him prefer Johnny Pesky at third base and Vern Stephens at shortstop, McCarthy snapped: "I just pushed a button and they came out that way." Marse Joe has been called a push-button manager by sportwriters--and dislikes it as strongly as the late John McGraw resented being called "Muggsy."

Happy Man. The people Marse Joe talks to most freely are his coaches and old friends on the Yankees' side. He tries to convince them that the Yankee training camp at St. Pete is inferior to the Red Sox setup at Sarasota. He praises the Sox front office as better than the Yankees'. Just to prove that he is happier than ever, Joe McCarthy raps everything about the Yankees.

But when Joe DiMaggio, one of his old outfit, strode over to him last week, Marse Joe's square face broke into a grin. He chided DiMag about having two top buttons on his uniform blouse open. Said DiMag, grinning: "You always told us to act tough, Joe." Said McCarthy: "Yeah, what's a button or two."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.