The Bird and the Bicentennial

We had constant reminders of America's 250^th birthday via our media recently.

It brought back vivid reminders of America's 200^th birthday to me, as I was a member of the media 50 years ago in 1976, heading a national baseball monthly publication headquartered in Detroit. Like this year, Philadelphia hosted many national events including the Major League Baseball All-Star Game.

Mark "The Bird" Fidrych was the biggest celebrity in America in the summer of '76. Mark was a tall, slim right-handed pitcher topped off by a long, light-colored curly-haired mop of hair that ran past his shoulders. He also wore a beautiful smile and his look reminded everyone of Big Bird, the friendly, lovable character on the popular television program aimed at kids of all ages, "Sesame Street."

The Bird started the 1976 season in the minor leagues and won his first major league game in May. Most American fans got to see The Bird for the first time on the nationally televised Monday night game on June 28, against the Yankees. About six hours before the game I met broadcasters Warner Wolf, Bob Prince, and Bob Uecker in the lobby of a downtown hotel. They had never seen Fidrych and didn't know much about him.

I started filling them in, and we were soon joined by the Yankees' starting pitcher Ken Holtzman. The Jewish left-hander and I were on a first name basis for a few years by then. The media always reported that Fidrych often talked to the ball before throwing his next pitch. "Not so," I told my audience of four who sat on comfy lobby chairs opposite me and could see ships passing behind me on the Detroit River and the skyline of Windsor, Ontario, Canada in the background. Fidrych told me he talks to himself while looking down at the ball, reminding himself of the situation, who is at-bat, who is a fast runner on base, how many outs are there, etc.

We made our way to Tiger Stadium and were invited to the broadcast booth where they asked me some more Bird questions and I left them with this piece of information. Fidrych told me, “Baseball is an easy game. Either I get them out or they get me out."

The game took a quick one hour and 51 minutes and Fidrych scattered seven hits to defeat the Yanks 5-1. My best friend on the Tigers, outfielder Rusty Staub, hit a home run. The crowd of almost 50,000 was cheering wildly and calling for The Bird to come out of the dugout to make an appearance. Staub encouraged the shy Fidrych to acknowledge the crowd. The Bird listened and flew out of the dugout for a long, loud curtain call.

In July, The Bird and I flew to Philadelphia together and shared a ride to the All-Star hotel. Many national reporters noticed our arrival and tried to get me to help them to get an interview with my friend Mark. I reminded them we have to play by the rules and look under interviews in the handouts.

American League public relations head Bob Fishel said, "I've been around this game since the 1940s and I've never seen the rush to try to get to one player (Fidrych)." Bob was a good friend and was around for many of baseball's big moments. He worked for colorful owner Bill Veeck and worked with Yankees’ manager Casey Stengel during the Stengel years with the Yankees.

Fidrych had a great record of nine wins and two losses with an impressive earned run average of only 1.78 when he started for the American League at the All-Star Game. National League batters touched him for four hits and two runs over two innings. He had good control and didn't issue any bases on balls (walks).

The Bird focused on the rest of the season and ended 1976 with 19 wins and nine losses while posting an earned run average of 2.34. It looked like he had a great future, but an injury forced him to start the following season seven weeks late and pitch in only eleven games, posting a 6-4 record. Fidrych hung around a few more injury-filled seasons and was loved by all he encountered.

Mark "The Bird" Fidrych was the most popular player of his short era and the most popular player in Detroit Tigers history. He was only 54 when he died accidentally while tinkering underneath a truck on his Northboro, Massachusetts, farm that he shared with his beloved wife and daughter. The Bird's passing invoked pages of memories in local newspapers.