A Bird Ascending

Mark Fidrych, whose untimely death last month saddened the baseball world, officially became a major leaguer on April 5, 1976. Just a few hours before he was to face the Cincinnati Reds at Lakeland’s Marchant Stadium, the Detroit Tigers announced they had placed the 21-year-old rookie on their opening day roster. The frenetic Fidrych was understandably ecstatic. “Never in my wildest imagination did I think I had a chance at making the team,” he exclaimed. “If they want me to be batboy all season I will. I’ve started and relieved before, I’ll do whatever they want—anything.”

The decision by manager Ralph Houk to bring Fidrych to Detroit surprised nearly everyone. An owners’ lockout had prevented spring training from beginning until March 19, when Commissioner Bowie Kuhn ordered the camps opened. Because of the shortened training period, Houk had decided to start the season with ten pitchers rather than nine. The Detroit press had expected that, speculating for days about which ten pitchers the Tigers would keep. However, Fidrych’s name had been conspicuously absent from those speculations. After trading Mickey Lolich to the Mets and Lerrin LaGrow to the Cardinals, the Tigers’ starting rotation figured to consist of Joe Coleman, Vern Ruhle, Ray Bare, and newly acquired Dave Roberts. They expected a fifth starter to emerge from a group of youngsters that included Bill Laxton, Bruce Taylor, and Jim Crawford.

Although Fidrych’s “live arm” and willingness to challenge hitters had impressed everyone connected with the Tigers, most felt he would need a full year, or at least a few months, of Triple A experience before he was ready to pitch in the American League. Houk disagreed. During the winter, he had watched Fidrych pitch in the Florida Instructional League and came away convinced that he was the best young pitcher in the Tigers’ system. Houk elected to keep Fidrych and send Dave Lemanczyk, who had spent all of the 1975 season with Detroit, back to Evansville of the American Association.

“This is not a rebuilding year,” Houk said. “And from what our people told me about Fidrych, he’s a big-league pitcher. We simply have got to give this fellow a chance. He needs a lot of work, but if everything works out right, he can move into that fifth starting spot when we need him.”

Fidrych’s start against the Reds that evening would be his third appearance of the spring. In his first outing on March 26, he pitched three scoreless innings against St. Louis, but was less effective in a game against Boston on the 31st. For both these games, he wore uniform number 62, the typically high number given to players who were not expected to make the team. And before now, Fidrych, whom the Tigers had invited to camp as a non-roster player, had not even been permitted to use the regular clubhouse.

He had been working as a janitor in a service station, making $2 an hour, when Detroit selected him on the tenth round of the 1974 free-agent draft. “I couldn’t believe it,” Fidrych later said, “I would have signed for free.” Following the draft, the Tigers sent him to Bristol of the Appalachian League where he won his only three decisions. He began the 1975 season at Class A, Lakeland, but soon moved on to Double A Montgomery, before finishing the season at Evansville. For the season, Fidrych had a combined 7-9 record, but was 4-1 with a 1.58 ERA at Evansville, the Tigers’ top farm team.

Nicknamed “The Bird” by his teammates because of his resemblance to Sesame Street’s Big Bird, the 6’3” right-hander with the long frizzy hair was the talk of the camp. All who watched him pitch agreed that Fidrych was the most enthusiastic and entertaining player they had ever seen. He was never still, always in motion, while punctuating his constant chatter with head, arm, and leg gestures. He charmed the fans in Florida, who were the first to enjoy the Fidrych rituals that would soon captivate the entire nation. Young and old delighted in watching him talk to the ball while on the mound, or excitedly congratulate his teammates when they made a good play behind him. Even Jim Campbell, the Tigers normally conservative general manager, loved what he saw. Campbell, an old-time traditionalist, said, “I hope some of the other players don’t try to change his habits because this guy is something to see.”

In starting against the Reds, Fidrych was pitching to a lineup that was missing only Pete Rose and Johnny Bench from the one that had defeated the Red Sox in the 1975 World Series. Bob Bailey was filling in for Rose at third, and Bill Plummer was doing the catching, but the rest of Cincinnati’s batting order, which included Tony Perez, Joe Morgan, George Foster, Dave Concepcion, Cesar Geronimo and Ken Griffey, was intact.

It was still an intimidating array of hitters, even without Rose and Bench. Nonetheless, Fidrych celebrated his promotion to the big leagues by holding the world champions scoreless and hitless for his assigned three innings. He set down the first seven Cincinnati batters before Plummer became the only Red to reach base when rookie shortstop Chuck Scrivener booted his easy ground ball. Pitcher Jack Billingham sacrificed Plummer to second, but Fidrych retired Concepcion to end the inning. The Tigers eventually won the game 3-2 on rookie Jerry Manuel’s bases-loaded single in the eleventh.

Houk barely used his rookie pitcher for the first five weeks of the season before starting him against the Indians on May 15. Fidrych responded with a 2-1 victory over Pat Dobson, a victory that launched his legend. After a win over the Yankees on national television, Fidrych, and his “peculiar” behavior on the mound, became the biggest baseball story of the year. The Tigers estimated that of the 900,000 fans that showed up for Fidrych’s 29 starts, more than half had come strictly because of him. Baseball had not had that kind of drawing card since Sandy Koufax retired ten years earlier.

Often overlooked in all the publicity about Fidrych’s eccentricities, is just how good a pitcher he was in 1976. Pitching for a team that finished 24 games out of first place, he won 19 games (19-9) and led the league with a 2.34 earned-run-average. He also led in complete games with 24 and was the runner-up to Baltimore’s Jim Palmer in the voting for the Cy Young Award.

Unlike the little-known rookie that he had been in spring training the previous year, Fidrych was the focus of attention wherever the Tigers went in the spring of 1977. Then, as suddenly as his success had come, it disappeared. While leaping for a batting-practice fly ball before a Grapefruit League game, Fidrych injured his arm. He underwent surgery and attempted several comebacks, but was never again the pitcher he had been. The young man with the unlimited future won just ten games over the next four years and left the game. Baseball has not had such an endearing character since.