Everyone knows you’re supposed to put your hand behind you when you catch. I don’t know, maybe they did things differently back then.
I can’t help thinking, though, that not only will these guys inevitably catch an errant pitch straight on the fingernail, but they all look pretty silly too. In fact, I can’t help thinking of so many friendly pooches up on their hind legs and begging for a treat
So, c’mon boy! You want a biscuit? That’s it!
Actually, Ken here looks fairly normal. I’m wondering, though, if his raised fist isn’t a subtle “power to the people” signal.
Wait, this card is from the early ‘50s, isn’t it? We’ve got 12 or 15 years to go before that could even be feasible.
Ken Silvestri was a classic backup catcher, with a .215 average, five homers, 25 RBIs, and just over 100 games in an eight-year career. He also got a shot at managing – three games at the end of the ’67 season, all of which he lost.
Once again, not that bad.
“W” here was another backup backstop. He only lasted three years though. And that equated to 381 at bats, two homers, and a .257 average.
Oh, the “W”? It stands for Wilmer. No wonder he went with “W.” Not sure if anybody actually called him “Dubbya” or not.
Okay, Al here is just starting to look a little silly.
I’d never heard of Al Walker before, and a quick search of baseball-reference.com turned up nothing. Turns out this is none other than Rube Walker, a local boy (
) and a pretty well-known Bum. Lenoir, NC
As it so happens, Rube’s real name was Albert Bluford Walker. Yup, that’s right – Bluford. Even “Rube” sounds a lot better than that.
Here’s Al again. This time, he’s combined the silly paws-up stance with the classic village-idiot, cap-backwards look.
You gotta tell me though ... How come guys from the South invariably get called “Rube” or “Dixie”?
“Who’s a good boy, then? Does wittle Sammy want a treat?”
A coupla more Sammy Taylors right here.
So, pitchers can do it too, eh? Actually, Dennis, looks less like he’s begging for a treat and more like he’s cringing to get out of the way of the wicked line drive his weak stuff is sure to bring his way.
Actually, though, Dennis really wasn’t that bad. He lasted seven years, mostly as a starter, and finished with a 43-47 record and 3.54 ERA. Given that Bennett was 6’5” and 205 lbs., my guess is it would have been the batters who would have been intimidated, not him.
Great bio of Dennis right here, including a near fatal auto wreck and a case of identity theft. The guy was a survivor!