Some Thoughts on the Origins of "New Frontier Baseball

So, what's with the title...??

And so, it is christened "The New Frontier."Why the transparent, overly dramatic title you ask? Especially for a blog site that has Major League Baseball as it showcase item? Besides giving it a shiny, scholarly flourish, it paints a sign on an era, whose signature world personality once had to jump off a PT boat during World War II to swim for his life and those of his crew members.


Yes, I know.  Uh-huh.  I get that...sport, pop music, consumerism - trivial appetizers at the  banquet table of heavy subjects, especially when stacked up against The Cold War, Barbara Eden, The Space Race, race relations,  Mustang commercials, JFK, Khrushchev, The Black Panthers, MLK, Yuri Gagarin, Charles Manson, The Beatles, and, of course, Dallas on November 22, 1963. Yes, it was quite the whirlwind, rock throwing, world-in-flux era of change, of "events."  Here in small town America, that was a little hard to perceive.  But it all did happen.  When my brother was drafted for Vietnam, we began to notice things were changing...

Yeah. Lennon liked Corn Flakes.

And The Game was most definitely changing too! As America was embarking on "new frontiers" in race relations, civil rights, The Space Race, Cold War & Vietnam, new vistas and people were populating the map of Major League Baseball. New franchises were flowering in Houston, Kansas City, New York, and L.A. and Seattle, while Minneapolis/St. Paul and Atlanta gratefully received the former Senators (Twins) and Braves. Fans in the new cities were as elated as were those alienated in locales abandoned by relocated franchises. 


"Sitting on a cornflake, waiting for the van to come." - John Lennon, from the song,

"I Am The Walrus," - The Beatles' Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, 1967

Colorful players, race-conscious African Americans, and a greater influx of college-educated young men (see "Jim Bouton") were changing the profile of what a big leaguer was or could be. People like Bob Gibson and Roberto Clemente exemplified the definition of black pride just as forcefully within baseball as Malcolm X and MLK II did in the streets and churches. In doing so, they were extending the sphere of social significance of the black athlete. They were carrying on the quest begun by Jackie Robinson. And in the process, they made insulated, white kids like me appreciate them as men, as well as thrill to their on-field successes. Small perceptions like that changed the world, one person at a time.

For a while, they didn't even bother

wearing batting helmets, so unafraid

and bash-happy were they...

Rules changes, like the definition of the strike zone after the 1963 season turned it into a pitcher's era. The wording went as such (from the baseball Rules Book: Definition of Terms 2.00).  

"The Strike Zone is that space over home plate which is between the top of the batter's shoulders and to his knees when he assumes his natural stance. The umpire shall determine the Strike Zone according to the batter's usual stance when he swings at a pitch."

A bunch of furry, Slovakian-looking brutes had been launching homeruns in ridiculous amounts, swinging like damn fools (see photo "Jim Gentile"), and the two major leagues wanted to create a better balance of pitching and defense vs. walloping.  So, they set about turning baseball into a soccer match...

The highlighted area above is as such to distinguish from the old definition, in which the uppermost height of the strike zone went only as high as the armpits. This helped power pitchers like Koufax, Jim Palmer, Gibson, Jim Maloney, Sam McDowell and Nolan Ryan feast on the batters, live on that high strike the umpires were calling, and pile up strikeout victims like so much firewood.  Strike out records of kings of the past like Walter Johnson and Bob Feller were now in the trash bins of history. 

Sandy Koufax, bringin' it at Metropolitan Stadium, 

Bloomington,Minnesota, during Game 7, 

1965 World Series.

The late, great, Roberto Clemente, circa 1970.

.


 

***


The Man...The Legend...

The Guy Who Gave Me a Blog Title...

"But I tell you the New Frontier is here, whether we seek it or not. Beyond that frontier are the uncharted areas of science and space, unsolved problems of peace and war, unconquered pockets of ignorance and prejudice, unanswered questions of poverty and surplus. It would be easier to shrink back from that frontier, to look to the safe mediocrity of the past, to be lulled by good intentions and high rhetoric – and those who prefer that course should not cast their votes for me regardless of party." - excerpt from John F. Kennedy's acceptance speech at the Democratic National Convention, July 15, 1960.

To me, J.F.K. was the signpost, the person that gave breath and  limbs, heart and hope to that era. It was a quest to improve the lot of the United States, the leader of the free world, and of humankind. And to me, when I allow my youthful idealism to edge through the cracks and shadows of my middle age cynicism, I have to believe we can revive it!

Here's the President's acceptance speech as a candidate for president at the Democratic National Convention on July 15th, 1960. Listen for Kennedy's passage at the 15m.-19sec. mark including "The New Frontier" section. Full text of the speech can be seen here at Wikisource. An incredible example of presidential rhetoric it is (in addition to some way out cool haberdashery).

In a sense, everything that has followed in the decade of the 1960's and beyond has been part and parcel of the quest to fulfill his vision. That he was extinguished does not mean his vision, of changing the world for the better, renders it a failure for its lack of fulfillment. It is fulfillment deferred, for another time to come.

***

 Didn't They Have Some Great Tunes Back Then Too?

Man of the People: Hubert Horatio Humphrey.

He was a driving force in getting the

Civil Rights Bill of 1964 passed. Cool

how he arrived at the office every day 

to the singing of"We Shall Overcome."!

.
For every Bob Dylan or the Beatles , you had 15 Norman Greenbaums.  You couldn't swing Mick Jagger around by his boots without hitting Gary Lewis AND the Playboys.  But without them all, where would NASA have gotten such great mood music for rocket launches?? Well?? 

Try playing "Spirit In The Sky" while viewing the videos, you'll see what I'm talking about.

It's OK now, Rog. Your
time of suffering is over.
We know. New York
is a tough place for
regular, Mid West guys

If you made it this far into the prose jungle, be forewarned: my enthusiasm for various subjects of inquiry will span roughly the time of the first Sputnik (1957), Buddy Holly, and lead up to the U.S. ending its military presence in Vietnam,  Patty Hearst, and the fabulous World Series of 1975. 

That's a hell of an inquisition, or something, admittedly. An Andy Warhol/Andy Etchebarren/Andy Griffith progression may not be too far in the offing. But without the requisite good taste and discretion, I'm more than ready for the challenge. Trust me on that.  

Is it just me, or was Fogarty singing"There's

a bathroom on the Right."?

I hope you'll check in on occasion, just to humor me! Leave your comments!

TT 


BELOW: no 1960s rehashery would be complete without
some Jimi Hendrix.  Feel free to trip out, man:
Free Music Downloads