New York's perennial losers pulled a name out of a hat and came up with Tom Seaver, a $50,000 bonus pitcher who steals bases as well
... Tom was a good basketball and baseball player at
Fresno High, yet not one scout so much as nodded to him. He was small, and his fast ball would not squash a grape. But
Marine Corps mess halls accomplished what years of raisins and quails could not. He went in the corps for six months, worked at his father's plant for six months and entered Fresno City College four inches taller (6'1") and 45 pounds heavier (190).
After a good season at Fresno City College and a summer in
Fairbanks pitching for the
Alaska Goldpanners, Tom was given a baseball grant-in-aid by
USC, one of the few big universities in the state that had been Seaverless.
Trojan Coach Rod Dedeaux is a successful trucking executive who, as a sideline, develops major league talent and wins championships.
As a junior Seaver had a 10-2 record and struck out 100 batters in 106 innings. He roomed with
Coach Dedeaux's son, Justin, and Justin strongly impressed with his pitching, his cooking of self-shot pheasant and his running, which the
Mets have come to appreciate, too.
"His speed fools you," says Justin. "He's one of the best base runners I've ever seen. He studies the pitchers, knows their moves, knows their little idiosyncrasies, and this gives him the jump.
"Dad used to have the team run wind sprints, and Tom could almost run nose to nose with
Mike Garrett. Mike might win one time by a stride at 75 yards. The next time they'd dead-heat. Once in a while Tom might have an edge."
The Dodgers picked Seaver in the free-agent draft of June 1965 but made no effort to sign him. He was available again in the January 1966 draft, so the Braves picked him and began negotiations. When he was signed for a bonus of about $50,000, the
USC baseball season already had started—which is too late to sign a college ballplayer, according to current baseball law—but the Braves assured him everything was O.K. as long as the Trojans' league games had not started.
Dedeaux was not exactly overjoyed (
Ron Fairly of the Dodgers, Barry Lat-man of the Astros and Gary Sutherland of the Phils are some other players he lost while they had eligibility ), but Tom and his girl friend, Nancy, were happy, for now they could get married. His parents planned a gala party in
Fresno for 60 or 70 of their friends. One hour before the first cork was to pop,
Braves General Manager John McHale phoned and told Tom that the commissioner's office had voided the contract. It turned out that the rule held whether the games were in league or out. The party went on anyway.
Tom would have rejoined the Trojans, but the
NCAA declared him ineligible. Suddenly he was not only $50,000 poorer, he was a man without a country, neither pro nor amateur. In the flurry of phone calls that followed, from
Fresno to
Atlanta to the baseball commissioner's office, Seaver occasionally found himself wondering whether he was talking to MacPhail (Lee) of the commissioner's office or
McHale (John) of the Braves.
Commissioner Eckert finally ruled that any club but the Braves that was willing to pick up the $50,000 bonus tab could put in a claim for Seaver. The Phillies,
Indians and
Mets stepped forward and, as Tom listened via long-distance telephone,
New York's name was picked out of a hat, perhaps
John McHale's.
That is how the Mets—who have lived so long with bad luck—came up with a base-stealing, right-hand-throwing, -hand-shooting pitching phenom, and how
USC lost the national baseball championship. The Trojans, without Tom, went to the college World Series at
Omaha in 1966 and lost to
Ohio State 1-0 (the Buckeye pitcher,
Steve Arlin, subsequently signed with the Phillies for a $100,000 bonus). If Seaver had been pitching that day, muses Rod Dedeaux, "the game might still be in extra innings."