Vintage Brew: "An Inside Pitch" - Mickey Heath

---

Minor Wilson "Mickey" Heath was the first baseman for the Milwaukee Brewers from 1937 through 1940 (their player/manager for 1939-40), became the voice of the Brewers on local radio stations, and was a willful participant in the promotional antics of Bill Veeck in 1943… but lest we forget, he was also a family man…

---

"An Inside Pitch" – Mickey Heath
by Paul Tenpenny
(Tencentz@aol.com)
Copyright 2020 Tencentzports
Printed with permission of the Author

Author's Note: while Borcherfield.com has written several stories on Mickey Heath, this one is special because it comes from his family. Nothing pleases us more than to hear from the people associated directly with Milwaukee’s baseball past and I want to personally thank grandson, Robert W. Bigelow for sharing this with us.

---

Memories of a Baseball Brat
By Dona Heath Bigelow McCauley

*Adapted from a speech about growing up the daughter of a baseball player.

Publicity shot of Dona Heath, Mickey Heath and Stan Heath in Milwaukee

My dad was Mickey Heath, a first baseman born in Toledo, Ohio in 1903. When he was 9 years old, his father died, leaving his mother alone with 8 children. When he was 12, he went fishing with his brothers, rolled into a campfire and was burned severely over half of his body. The doctors told him that he would never walk without crutches as the muscles of his right leg were so badly scarred that his foot couldn’t reach the ground. This man, my dad, went on to play professional baseball.

Dad came from a close-knit family who supported him through an arduous recovery. Though he would wear the scars for the rest of his life, he did recover. It wasn’t long before he was able to play sandlot ball and soon moved on to a local Toledo team called the Daisy Velvet Ice Cream Co.

Daisy Velvet Ice Cream Co. team- Mickey Heath leaning in back-still with physical issues from fire

A scout for the Detroit tigers saw him in a game where he hit a home run, a triple and two doubles. For the sum of $175, the scout signed my dad for the month remaining in the 1923 season. I’m sure he would have signed the contract for $1.00. He felt that baseball was what he was born to do.

Ottumwa Cardinals- (Mississippi Valley League) Mickey still wearing a local Toledo uniform

Dad’s professional baseball career began in Ottumwa and through Birmingham (Barons-Southern Association) and then Toronto.

Mickey Heath (Toronto Maple Leafs -International League)

While playing in Toronto, he married my mother, Mona. She was a Canadian who loved the game of baseball. According to family lore, she never missed a game. They met on a blind date. Dad was tall, red-headed and had a smile that lit up the room. Many of the wives of players stayed at home while their guys played ball. Mom didn’t. Wherever Dad went, Mom went. It wasn’t long before my brother, Stan, was born in Toledo, Ohio. A year later I joined up in Long Beach, CA while Dad was having great success for the Hollywood Stars of the Pacific Coast League.

Mickey Heath - Cincinnati Reds 1931-1932

In 1931, Dad was sent to Cincinnati, the “big leagues”! He did well enough in spring training and in the first few games of the regular season to win the starting spot at first base. In an away game at Pittsburgh very early in the season, the opposing team’s shortstop hit a slow roller to second base, it was picked up and thrown to Dad at first who caught it, but his arm had gone between the runner’s legs and it was broken just above the wrist. The doctors put on a cast and that was the end of his season with Cincinnati. The club paid for us to drive back to Toledo to stay with Dad’s mother.

In one of my earliest memories, bolstered by family recollection, the family piled in the car, Dad with a cast up to his shoulder, and Mom a nervous wreck, driving too fast because she really didn’t know how to drive. We were pulled over by a cop and Stan and I started crying. The policeman took one look at the scene and walked away. This is a family story and the only real memory I have, being a toddler, is seeing Dad in the car with the cast on his arm and me crying up a storm. So it must be true.

The doctors suggested we go back to Long Beach for the warm climate which we did. Bad luck struck again. Dad pulled the electric cord out of a dried-up Christmas tree and it sparked and set the tree on fire. He started carrying it outside through a laundry room, but it was filled with gas from a blown-out pilot light and the whole tree exploded. I have a distinct memory of Stan and I hosing the burning tree in the front yard and later bringing neighborhood kids in to “show off” my father covered with bandages. Dad went into the next season in very poor health.

The Cincinnati club kept him as long as they could but after a tough start, they traded him to Rochester, who traded him to the Columbus Red Birds during the following season. We were in Columbus all of 1934 and then Indianapolis all of 1935. We started 1936 in Indianapolis, but Dad was traded to Montreal during the season. We moved, a lot.

Columbus Red Birds - American Association

Unlike Navy or Army brats who move maybe every two or three years, baseball brats move every six months and more often if traded. We would move to one city for spring training and another for the season. The ball club would only pay transportation for Dad, not the family, so he would collect the train fare and use it for gas to drive the whole family. The car would be loaded down with us and everything we owned.

Dad would wake us up at 4:30 a.m., pack us all into the car, and off we’d go, stopping only to eat and look for a motel when it was dark. A motel in those days was a group of small cabins outside of town, just like the cabin stayed in by Clark Gable and Claudette Colbert in the movie “It Happened One Night”. Depending on our next ball club, the road trip would take from 4 to 5 days. Mom would sleep the whole way as she hadn’t learned to drive, and Stan and I would take turns teasing each other. We played games and tried not to be like kids stuck in a car for hours. No iPads, no TV to watch, no cell phones. We played “In My Trunk” , “License Plate Poker” and a favorite of mine “Animal, Vegetable, or Mineral “ Our only distraction was when we stopped at gas stations as there was always something out of the ordinary on display, like an anteater or a two-headed snake. On one occasion, I saw the sign advertising the snake a few miles out of town, I couldn’t wait to see it. It had two heads all right, but it was in a jar. I thought it was a dirty trick to play on a kid, but it enticed people to stop and buy their gas, which was the whole idea.

During our grade school years, Stan and I averaged three schools a year. I loved the nomadic life. As we arrived at the new schools at odd times of the year, we received special treatment and caused a stir. The Eastern schools were usually more advanced, so we’d repeat classes, making it easier to get good grades. We’d be moved up a grade when we went West and were also given mini-celebrity status by the kids. We’d shine in geography since we’d lived in or passed through most of the states. Of course, it didn’t hurt having a ball player for a father.

During the season, we lived mostly in hotels. My mother managed to carry a few things to make each hotel room a bit homey. The rooms usually included a small kitchen, but she didn’t like to cook so our meals were simple.

My brother Stan frequently had the job of ballboy, so he was on the field with the players. I was pretty jealous so at all the ballparks I’d pester Dad to let me have a tour of the clubhouse locker room when the players had all left. He always said no as it was off limits to a girl. I did manage to see it, though… the hard way. We were at one of the ballparks and the seats in the family section had folding chairs. During one game, I tilted my chair back and was daydreaming, looking up at the clouds, when suddenly I saw a ball three feet away coming straight for my head. Too late to duck, the foul ball landed on my cheek bone and knocked me out cold. I woke up to see the ball club trainer hovering over me. I sat up, looked around and started laughing. Yep! I had made it into the… locker room.

My most vivid memories begin when we settled in with the Milwaukee Brewers.

Milwaukee Brewers Spring Training – Biloxi Mississippi, 1937

Mickey Fielding at First Base

1937 team photo - Mickey in 2nd row, behind Ken Keltner

When we first moved there, we lived at the Ambassador Hotel.

Years later, we rented a house in Shorewood, a suburb just outside of Milwaukee. We lived there through our high school years; it was the longest time we had ever stayed in one place. Dad played ball for the Brewers for 4 years.

I became a hotel brat both home and away. I would sneak into the hotel’s parties sometime joining the staff serving, and sometime mingling with the guests until someone figured out that I didn’t belong. I helped in the hotel drug store and one day I stole a pack of gum. I had the nickel, but I guess I just wanted to see if I could pull it off.... I didn’t. Mom took me back to the store, I paid the nickel, and believe me I never wanted to be that sorry about anything again. I did figure out how to find kids. I would do this by going to the nearest church in whatever town we were in. It didn’t matter the denomination, because all of them had Sunday school. I’d find the right room and join in the fun crafts and listen.

On the road, I think Mom would get bored or lonely. Sometimes, she and I would get in the car and drive to the busiest part of town and park. We’d sit for hours just watching the people walk by. We’d be doing what she called “people watching.” I don’t remember talking, so I don’t know what she got out of it unless it was to just be out of the hotel for a few hours.

The craziest thing I ever did was while we were living at the Ambassador Hotel in Milwaukee. I climbed the tall neon sign on top of the hotel roof spelling out the name of the hotel. I had given myself the challenge to climb it and I did …, but that sign was really tall, old, and the ladder to the top was rusted metal. The point was to look at the city from the top, but when I got there, I was too scared to look.

Dona Heath on the balcony of the Ambassador Hotel, Milwaukee

Early on, one of the local newspapers wanted a shot of Dad, Stan and me. Stan looks like a budding ball player, Dad a proud father, and me a funny looking kid with burnt hair. Mom heard it was going to be a publicity shoot and she thought I’d look better with curly hair, So she bundled me off to the beauty parlor, where they put rollers in my hair and put me under a dome-like contraption that had clamps on the ends of wires, like a giant jelly fish. They attached the clamps onto the rollers and turned on the heat. I don’t remember it, but Mom said I cried the whole time. I couldn’t hold my head up; it was all so heavy. She held my head up with her hand under my chin. That I remember. When the rollers came off… burnt hair. Mom was horrified, but I didn’t care. When the photographers showed up, I was happy to be with my Dad on the field.

One year, Dad hit 30 home runs and for each home run he was given a case of Wheaties, the “breakfast of champions”. A case of those little individual packets. We had Wheaties for breakfast, Wheaties for lunch and Wheaties for dinner. Sometimes a steak. Ballplayers are extremely superstitious and one of Dad’s was - If he had a good day on the field, we had the same dinner every night…. Great if it was steak, but not so great if it was Wheaties. We lived with the usual superstitions, no black cat crossing your path, no hat on the bed, no walking under ladders, spill salt…throw it over your left shoulder. Added to those, we had superstitions like a day without Dad getting a hit, no talking when he came home, and we’d have to wear the same clothes every day until he got a hit. Saved Mom from a lot of laundry.

As manager of the Milwaukee Brewers, setting the lineup in 1939

Dad would go on to become manager of the team. Once, while Dad was managing the Milwaukee team, Stan came up with the idea of making money by cleaning up the trash at the ballpark, Borchert Field. The idea was that Stan would get his buddies together and after a night game, about 10 pm, they would gather up all the empty beer bottles, paper plates with half eaten hot dogs, peanut shells and candy wrappers. Real trash and plenty of it. Stan and his buddies started out ok but by about midnight they found it wasn’t fun, and no matter what Stan was going to pay them, they all left. Stan came home and woke up Dad, who woke up Mom, and the three of them went out to Borchert Field and worked until the job was done. I was just coming down for breakfast when they got home. Stan headed for bed, but Dad steered him right out the door again. It was time for school. Stan never asked for the job again, and he learned that if you accepted a job, you finished it.

Dad would play catch with Stan every chance he could, hoping he would become a ball player but in Stan’s Sophomore year of High School he played football, as quarterback, and it was plain for everyone to see that he was going to be one of the great passers. I hated watching the games, as I’d have to see my brother being tackled, with the other team’s fans chanting “kill the quarterback”. After high school he had a stint in the Navy, came home and went to the University of Nevada in Reno, where he became the Wolf Pack’s first ever All-American. One year, he led the nation in passing. Stan would become an inaugural member of the University of Nevada Athletic Hall of Fame and one of the quarterbacks on Nevada’s Team of the Century. In other words, he was a star. The Green Bay Packers hired him, but his success did not continue. Stan did poorly, lasting only one year. He moved on to play ball in the Canadian League.

After his stint as manager, Dad was hired to broadcast the games on the radio.

Broadcasting on WISN Radio

At the mic - WEMP Radio

He would broadcast the home games from a small booth on top of the ballpark's roof. Sometimes I’d sneak past the guards and go up and watch the game with him. It was special, as I had a bird’s eye view of the game and listened to Dad describing it at the same time.

No TV for the out of town games, so he came up with the idea to make it fun for the fans by setting up a glass booth in the basement of a local movie theater where the fans could come and watch him broadcast He would get the bare facts of the game on a ticker tape and would then invent the action. He made the game come alive, and the fans loved him for it.

Glass booth in basement of movie theater, broadcasting game off ticker tape for WEMP

He became so popular they named a bread after him: “Heath’s”. I spent many a night doing my homework in the studio listening and watching Dad.

In Milwaukee, our lives changed when Bill Veeck bought the Brewers. That’s when the fun began. Veeck hired Dad to coach and do promotional work while keeping up his broadcasting.

Mickey and Red Smith packing up Manager Charlie Grimm for Spring Training April 4, 1943 (Author’s Collection)

Veeck was a showman and his sole focus was to fill the seats at the ballpark. I loved going to the games, since I never knew what he and Dad would cook up to entertain the fans. Veeck declared every day a special occasion where baskets of food, live chickens, live piglets, and cakes of ice were given out to the fans by calling out a seat number. The lucky ones would carry the "prize" back to their seats. Even the live ones. The fans ate it up and filled the stands.

1943 “Band Practice” before a game
(Author’s collection)

They formed a “band” with Charlie Grimm (manager) on banjo, Herschel Martin (outfielder) on an upright piano, and pitcher Hank Oana on ukulele. Veeck would play a sliding whistle, Rudy Schaffer (club secretary) on a single string base wash tub, and a real set of drums for Dad. They would set the band up at home plate before the games and people would come just to see them having fun. Veeck gave Dad a “Mickey Heath Night” because he knew that the fans loved Dad and it would fill the stands. It did. That night Veeck presented Dad with a trophy that was taller than me and we used it as a doorstop.

Dad would broadcast the Brewers’ games until 1950, when his baseball career ended. He was, what I called, a minor celebrity. We’d walk down a Milwaukee street and people would yell “Hi Mickey!” They would come up to him, shake his hand and tell him how much they loved his broadcast of the games. Until he died, he would receive envelopes in the mail every week with an index card and a self-addressed envelope… asking for his autograph. He signed them all.

After retiring Dad played golf with a 5 handicap and was a bit of a hustler at 8-ball pool. Like father, like daughter, but I don’t hustle, not yet. We moved to California, and Dad wrote a book titled “Baseball Before Money”. His highest salary was $6,000. Now the salaries are in the multi-millions. I never heard him say he would have preferred to do anything else, though. He loved the game and I loved living it with him. I guess if you asked me now, I’d have to say that my childhood was anything but normal.

He taught me to play by the rules, play fair, and always, always play to win.

As Dad would say, “Thanks for listening.”

Dona

---

Editor's Note: I am so thrilled to present this family history to you; this is exactly the kind of tale BorchertField.com was founded to tell. Thank you so much, Dona and Robert, for sharing your memories with us! We will do our best to tell Mickey's stories and keep his legacy alive.

And thank you again to our amazing collaborator Paul Tenpenny, for recording this story and making it available for all baseball fans to enjoy.

For more on Mickey Heath, please check out SABR’s bio on Mickey, written by Robert W. Bigelow JD, PHD.

Vintage Brew: "Spring Fever 1947"

---

Ok, I am officially tired of winter and since I can’t just sit here and complain, here’s a warm blast from the past to keep you focused on the warmer spring weather, which someone tells me is right around the corner.

---

"Spring Fever 1947"
by Paul Tenpenny
(Tencentz@aol.com)
Copyright 2019 Tencentzports
Printed with permission of the Author

Our 2018 Central Division winning Milwaukee Brewers are in Arizona as I write this and are getting ready for the MLB season home opener on March 28, 2019 against the St. Louis Cardinals. I am looking forward to being there for many games this season, as well as listening to them with Hall of Fame broadcaster Bob Uecker at the mic on WTMJ radio.

WEMP Listener Magazine from 1947 (Author’s Collection)

The cold winter season always makes the fan’s hearts long for the green grass of home and by that, I mean … the green grass of the home ballpark. It was no different in Milwaukee as the 1947 Borchert Field Brewers were looking forward to the new season after finishing with a 70-78 record in the past year.

The games would be broadcast on WEMP radio. Like today, a popular former player did the play by play, Mickey Heath. “Minor” Heath played 1st base for the Brews from 1937-1940.

Schedule from WEMP magazine

Brewer fans could enjoy the game either from the popular Orchard or listen in on the broadcasts. WEMP was also planning on sharing updates on away games via telegraph.

Skipper Nick Cullup (Author’s Collection)

1947 would be a better year under the new ownership of the Boston Braves. The team improved their record to 79-75, finishing 3rd in the American Association under Nick Cullop. Good enough to gain a spot in the playoffs, they took advantage of the opportunity and went on to win it all. After besting the Kansas City Blue 4 games to 2, they beat the Louisville Colonels in the finals 4-3. The Brewers defeated the Syracuse Chiefs of the International League in the Junior World Series 4 games to 3.

"Brewers Baseball Boosters Club" pin, 1940

This beautiful Brewers pin was auctioned off by MEARS a couple years ago.

It's relatively small - 1¼ inches in diameter. Blue text on a white background, union made.

But even this deceptively simple pin has a story to tell us. The story unfurls in this nearly-full-page ad for Schuster's department store, published in the Milwaukee Journal on Wednesday, May 22, 1940.

Right there, in the middle, an ad for 'Mickey Heath' Sweat Shirts. They were named after, and bore the likeness of, the Brewers' popular third baseman/manager.

THIS BOOSTER CLUB BUTTON GIVEN WITH EVERY SWEATSHIRT!

This button worn on your Mickey Heath Sweat Shirt will admit you to any Saturday Brewer home game for only 10¢ instead of the usual charge of 25¢!

Boys from 5 through 12 years ONLY are eligible.

"Boys"? That's regrettable. It's not as though Milwaukee didn't have notable female baseball fans. Unless this "Milwaukee Brewers Baseball Boosters Club" was some sort of exclusively-male response to the all-women "Milwaukee Brewers' Boosters" fan club formed two seasons earlier. Which would be even more regrettable. Especially when supported by a local department store.

But fifty-nine cents? For a sweatshirt? That's a whopping $10.56 in April 2018 dollars. Not a bad deal at all. And with it, kids received this very button, and discounts to the ballpark.

The Brewers struggled in 1940, and Heath was fired after getting tossed from a game on July 20th arguing a called third strike. He was replaced as manager by former Brewer (and member of the 1919 "Black Sox" team) Ray Schalk.

I wonder how many of these were worn to Borchert Field that summer. Today, it's a rare artifact from Milwaukee's grand baseball history.

Beaming Smiles "Under the Florida Sun", 1942

In early 1942, three very handsome fellows posed for the camera at Spring Training in Ocala, Florida:

UNDER THE FLORIDA SUN—If the beaming smiles flashed by the trio of Brewers baseball masterminds mean anything, Milwaukee fans can expect a lot of fireworks at Borchert field this summer. Left to right are Coach Mickey Heath, Manager Charlie Grimm, and Coach Red Smith. The Brews play their first exhibition Sunday against Tulsa.

Mickey Heath was starting his second stint with the Brewers. He had come to Milwaukee as a first baseman in 1937, was promoted to player/manager after the firing of Brewer skipper Al Sothoron two years later. Brewers skipper Charlie Grimm brought him back as a part-time coach, and Heath would work his way up to vice president, team pitchman, and radio voice of the Brewers.

The man in the middle needs no introduction. Charlie Grimm, baseball's own "Jolly Cholly", is a giant of the sport. He followed up a twenty-year career at first base with a legendary coaching career. He helmed the Chicago Cubs for fourteen seasons over three separate stints (including as part of their "College of Coaches"). He was also the skipper of the Brewers from 1941 into the first part of 1944, and then again in 1951 before being called up to the parent Boston Braves. Jolly Cholly was in charge of the Braves when they made their triumphant march to Milwaukee.

On the right, Red Smith was himself a Brewers icon, starting as a backup catcher and quickly winning the hearts of Brewer fans (not to mention management). After retiring, he became a coach, then manager, then finishing out as the last General Manager the Brews would have.

I love the uniforms they're wearing. This is the classic late 1930s/early 1940s Brewer look. Thick blue soutache piping, red "M" over the heart. Outstanding.

This photo was published on the Milwaukee Sentinel's sports pages on March 22, 1942.

It was later republished on June 17, 1956, the morning after Charlie Grimm stepped down as manager of the Milwaukee Braves, It was part of a retrospective of Jolly Cholly's baseball career in Milwaukee. But sadly, that edition isn't part of the online Sentinel archives.

We do have a partial caption, glued to the reverse of the wire photo:

in 1942 Jolly Cholly was in Milwaukee as manager of the Brewers having a rollicking time with Coaches Mickey Heath, left, and Red Smith.

Good to see that the Sentinel remembered the Brewers even after Milwaukee went to the big leagues.

Late 1940s Television Broadside

This cardboard broadside was recently sold at auction:

Lot #226: 1947-52 Milwaukee Brewers Gimbels Department Store 17" x 21" Radio/TV Broadside

Offered is a broadside letting fans of the Milwaukee Brewers baseball club, then a minor league affiliate of the Boston Braves in the American Association, know what their options were for catching a game on tv or the radio if they couldn't make it down to Borchert Field in person.

Sign measures 17" x 21" and reads as follows, "Gimbels Brings You Brewers Baseball Play-By-Play on Radio WEMP featuring Mickey Heath and Television WTMJ-TV featuring Larry Clark" over a green diamond with a baseball scene featuring a sliding runner, a middle infielder and an umpire.

Radio voice Mickey Heath played with the Cincinnati Reds in 1931 & 1932 and also served as the Brewers player/manager in 1939 among numerous other minor league stops while TV Man Larry Clark was the first to broadcast play by play of baseball games in the state of Wisconsin. Broadside remains in good to very good overall condition with a few small areas of staining present.

Mickey Heath is well known to our readers. He come to Milwaukee as a first baseman in 1937. In November of 1938, club president Henry Bendinger fired club skipper Alan Sothoron and made Heath a player/manager. Heath did both jobs at the Orchard for a year and a half until he too was relieved of his managerial duties partway through the 1940 season, at which point he quit altogether. He went into radio and was hired back in 1942 as a part-time coach and full-time radio man. He was the voice of the Brewers through 1950.

On the television side, Larry Clark started with the club in 1948, not 1947. In that year, Milwaukee only had an estimated 700 television sets, most of them in taverns. WTMJ was only the eleventh commercial television station in the United States, and Milwaukee was the seventh American city to have its own station. In those early days, Clark was paid $10 a game to sit in a small booth on the Borchert Field roof and call play-by-play to fans gathered around those few hundred sets in bars and appliance store windows. According to reports, there were no Brewer broadcasts in 1951 or 1952, which sets an upper date of 1950.

Visually, it's interesting but not terribly impressive. It's three-color printing with stock graphics (a "B" team versus a "C" team? They couldn't be bothered to airbrush in a Milwaukee "M"?). As a piece of Milwaukee's baseball and media history, on the other hand, it's invaluable.

1948 Pocket Schedule

Time for another pocket schedule, this time from 1948.

On the cover, your '47 Milwaukee Brewers, with manager Nick Cullop front and center. Those Brewers won the Little World Series in 1947 (but not the American Association pennant, in a quirk of the league's rules), and big things were expected of them this year.

As far as I know, 1948 was the first season the Brews used that italicized version of the script wordmark introduced in 1942. It would appear on subsequent schedules and team publications, but never the uniforms themselves.

The inside holds the schedule of games. Although this copy has significant paper loss, all the text is still there. Note the absence of any announced exhibitions with major league clubs, formerly a regular event at Borchert Field (plus a new foil label for Miller High Life!).

On the back, play-by-play man and former Brewer first baseman, coach and manager Mickey Heath. Heath had provided radio broadcasts of Brewer games since 1940, and was still going strong.

Look at those prices - Box seats were only $1.50 or $.90 for kids under 12 (the equivalent of $14.56 and $8.73 in 2013 dollars, respectively). Grandstand seats were $1.00/$.40 ($9.70/$3.88), and a bleacher ticket would only set you back $0.60/$0.40 ($5.82/$3.88). What a deal.

Milwaukee fans saw some pretty good ball for that money, as the Brewers went 89-65 on the season. That was good enough for second place, eleven games behind the white-hot Indianapolis Indians, who won 100 games.

"Whoever heard of playing baseball in overcoats?", 1943

Seventy years ago this month, representatives from the Milwaukee Brewers left Borchert Field and drove twenty miles west to inspect proposed new Spring Training facilities in Waukesha. Wartime travel restrictions forced the Brewers to move their Spring Training camp from Ocala, Florida, and a Milwaukee Journal photographer was there to catch the action as they toured the snowy grounds.

Good eye, Charley! Brewer officials visited Waukesha Tuesday noon and inspected the facilities for the spring training of Milwaukee's baseball squad. They are shown trying out the Frame Park diamond, with some of Waukesha's reception committee in the background.

Talk about a mighty swing! That's manager Charlie Grimm teeing off a snowball from Mickey Heath, coach and radio announcer. President Bill Veeck is behind the plate, with general manager Rudie Schaffer (in his undershirt!) acting as umpire. All the Brewers' top brass, having a little fun in the snow.

R.G. Lynch, sports editor of the Journal, reported the visit this way:

The Brewer officials went to Waukesha Tuesday to have lunch with sundry bigwigs of the town and inspect the spring training facilities. Everything was dignified enough at lunch and while the skaters' shelter house was inspected as a potential clubhouse, but that was as long as (Veeck) could stay on his dignity. As the party left the shelter house, a snowball hit Walter Dick, the city engineer, behind the ear, and another caught L.L. Bray, secretary of the Association of Commerce, in the middle of the back. And if venerable Charles Schuetze had not had to go back to his church furniture factory it might have been his ear.

     Veeck had an armful of snowballs by that time—it was swell packing snow, too—so everybody had to make snowballs in self-defense and they flew from every direction.

     When the party reached the grandstand in Frame park, the Journal photographer wanted a picture. Veeck, Grimm, Schaffer and Mickey Heath piled into the snow for an impromptu ball game. Somebody dug up a stick for a bat. Just as they got set for a shot, Veeck yelled, "Wait a minute! Whoever heard of playing baseball in overcoats?"

     Veeck, Heath and Schaffer shed their coats. "Not me! protested Grimm. "I just came up from Missouri. Do you want me to catch pneumonia?"

     Just then a snowball caught Charley in the back of the head. He stiffened, rolled his eyes and, in the best Grimm comedy style, did a dead man fall smack on his face in the snow.

     Grimm got up and let out a howl. He pointed and there was Schaffer with his shirttails out, unbuttoning. A moment later he was in his underwear, ready to umpire the snow game.

And with a click of a shutter, the moment was captured for us to marvel at today.

"Milwaukee's Infield", 1937

This wire photo introduced newspaper readers to the men who were expected to anchor Borchert Field's infield during the 1937 season.

MILWAUKEE'S INFIELD

Biloxi, Miss., March 23--Manager Al Sothoron will depend a lot on these hands when the Milwaukee, Wis., team starts their season. He intends to send these men out as the starting infield. Left to right: M.W. Heath, first base; Ed Hope, second base; Otto Bluege, short stop; and Ken Keltner, third base.

Several of these players need no introduction here.

Ken Keltner was one of the greatest players ever produced by Milwaukee's sandlots. This was his second season in pro ball, having played one year for the Fieldale (Virginia) Towelers. Keltner made an immediate splash, and didn't even finish the season before being sold to the Cleveland Indians.

First baseman Minor Wilson "Mickey" Heath was newly-signed away from the Montreal Royals. He had spent part of the previous season playing with the Indianapolis Indians, where he first came to the attention of Brewer management. Heath would go on to thrive at Borchert Field, being promoted to player/manager in 1939 upon the firing of Al Sothoron (mentioned in the caption). After his playing career was over he served the Brewers as a coach, executive and longtime radio voice.

Eddie Hope was a second baseman, known for sharp fielding but weak hitting. He was about to start his fourth season in a Milwaukee uniform.

The man with the shortest tenure in Milwaukee was Otto Bluege. Bluege was a longtime minor-league veteran who had played parts of the 1932 and 1933 seasons with the Cincinnati Reds, and who was purchased from Indianapolis, where he had played with Mickey Heath in 1936. Even before the Brewers broke their Biloxi camp, Bluege was in trouble. His fielding was erratic, and he was benched just one week after this photo hit the wires. He played sporadically with the Brews until the end of May, when the club sold him to the International League's Jersey City Giants.

1937 would be a pretty good year for the Brews. Though they fell short of repeating their 1936 American Association pennant, they battled for a very respectable 80-73 record.

1943 Score Card

This score card was sold at Borchert Field during the last home stand of the 1943 season. It marks a return to saddle-stitched books after at least a decade of bi-fold cards.

On the cover, Owgust stands huge over the Orchard, swinging for the fences. This was his second season as the Brews' mascot, making his cover debut the previous year.

This score card is printed in green and red on newsprint. The first pages feature memories of the season from Brewer management (under a banner of Owgusts pitching and catching).

The management of the Brewers wish to take this opportunity of thanking the fans of Milwaukee for their loyal support throughout the season. It proved what has always been our contention – that Milwaukee fans are the most loyal in the country. This loyal support has made possible our efforts to supply you with a winning ball club and has renewed our determination to continue to do our utmost to provide you with clean, healthful entertainment whenever you attend the games at Borchert Field.

Great stuff.

In the following pages, we're introduced to some members of the team.

Pitcher "Jittery Joe" Berry (an ironic nickname in the "Little John" mold) was the anchor of the Brewers' rotation. Heinz Becker was the Brews' first baseman. Becker was born in Germany, raised in Dallas and brought to Milwaukee by team president Bill Veeck, where he quickly became a fan favorite.

There's a little space under each biography for autographs, but the owner of this copy never collected any.

I especially love the Roundy's cartoon in the upper-right corner.

Note also the list of Milwaukee Brewers serving in the armed forces. Within a few months, they would be joined by Veeck himself.

We also see how the Orchard was laid out in 1943: 395 feet to straight center, 262 down the left field line, 265 down the right, and 424 / 426 to the respective corners. This is very similar to those we've seen before. The subsequent pages give us even more information on the ballpark, this time the seating area.

I'm surprised at the number of womens' facilities available in 1943, but maybe I shouldn't be. The Brewers had a long history of female owners, who might have been responsible for accommodating female patrons. Even if they weren't behind it, I'd expect Veeck was.

Then there's the "Lucky Number" contest, as constant as anything in the club's history.

Hidden in amongst the ads we find the "Steller Jewelry Company's Player of the Week". This week it was hard-slugging outfielder Hal Peck, certainly worthy of the award.

This takes us to the newsprint score cards in the middle of the book. On this day, the Brews were facing the Kansas City Blues.

A cocktail bar in Milwaukee named "Molitor's"? I'll meet you there.

On the next page, of course, we have the hometown heroes.

Lots of talent in that lineup; 1943 was a very good year for Milwaukee baseball.

The next several pages are full of wonderful ads. "After the game, join the crowd"! What I wouldn't give to be able to visit some of these spots.

Another lucky number contest?

The next pages give us much to digest.

Based on the schedule presented here, we can tell that this score card was sold at the Orchard on either the 17th, 18th or 19th of September (that last one a double-header). It also indicates that the American Association playoffs would begin just days later, on the 21st, as the four "first division" clubs faced each other to determine who would represent the Association against the International League in the Junior World Series.

The phrase "first division" has fallen out of use in baseball circles, but in 1943 "first division" and "second division" would have referred to a team's position in the standings; top half was first, bottom half was second. The term fell into disuse when the two Major Leagues expanded and organized their teams into smaller units called "divisions" in 1969.

It seems very strange to us today that a team could win their pennant and not move on to the deciding postseason series, but that's exactly what happened in the American Association. In this particular season, the Brewers finished 90-61, five ½ games ahead of second-place Indianapolis, but were bounced out of the playoffs by the Columbus Red Birds. This was a particular bane of Bill Veeck during his time in Milwaukee, as he was able to assemble clubs that dominated his league during the regular season (winning three pennants in a row) but washed out of the playoffs.

We also touch base with Mickey Heath. A player/manager for the Brewers in the late 1930s, he moved on to radio and coaching in 1940.

On the inside back cover, Heath and manager Charlie Grimm relax in a mud bath.

Wartime travel restrictions had forced the Brewers to move Spring Training to Waukesha, but these fellows look like they've made the best of it.

And, of course, we have to finish with a full-page back-cover ad for Miller High Life.

What could be more "Milwaukee" than that?