The Stories Inside of Baseball

'Parade' Celebrates the World Series

With Our Favorite Baseball Covers of All Time

Talk a walk down memory lane as we prepare for the 118th World Series.

by Peter Moore

October 7, 2022

Hardball and history go together like hot dogs and mustard, which is why Parade has been covering baseball—the sport, the personalities, the controversies—since 1942. Here are some of our all-star cover stories.

Parade's Best Baseball Covers

August 22, 1948: “The red-hot mamas of the national pastime”

That’s what our writer called the women athletes of the All-American Girls’ Baseball League, who began playing during World War II. Our cover athlete, Dottie Schroeder, was in a league of her own, heralded as the “fastest-moving shortstop” for the Fort Wayne Daisies. The 1992 movie A League of Their Own, based on Dottie’s exploits and those of other women hardballers, would feature Madonna, Geena Davis and Rosie O’Donnell on the distaff diamond, and a new TV series has recently launched on Prime Video.

May 27, 1962: “A baseball league for boys where everyone plays”

A noble experiment broke out in Fort Wayne, Indiana, in the early ’60s, when organizers launched a no-cut baseball league, to include kids who didn’t make a Little League roster. “No youngster is ever told he ‘isn’t good enough,’” our earnest reporter wrote. “Emphasis is on fun, not winning.” Sounds good, right? That issue of Parade also includes the hopeful cover line “No More Major Wars on Earth.”

July 2, 2017: “An all-American family”

The nuclear unit on this cover—Chicago Cubs second baseman Ben Zobrist, his wife, Julianna, and kids, Blaise, Kruse and Zion–would indeed prove all-American, going into marital meltdown in 2019, just like 746,970 other U.S. marriages that year. “[Ben] is very grounded,” said the future ex-Mrs. Zobrist. “I’m a sprouting wildflower.” Uh-oh. In happier times (2016), the Cubs won the World Series, Ben was named MVP and his family cheered him on without legal representation.

August 23, 1959: “Borrowed from the boys”

Chicago White Sox southpaw Billy Pierce had a solid if unspectacular 18-year career in baseball, playing in two World Series and winning zero. But at least he made it to the fall classic, unlike Hall of Famers Rod Carew and Wee Willie Keeler. He also took a bow on the cover of Parade, in a fashion feature of all things, on his way to a 14-15 record.

July 3, 2015: “I wished someone I knew would recognize my passenger.”

During spring training in 1975, Henry Louis Aaron—otherwise known as Hammerin’ Hank—flagged down Milwaukee Brewers photographer Ronald C. Modra for a ride back to the Brewers’ hotel. Modra later captured a classic photo for Sports Illustrated of his hometown hero Aaron with Yankees great Mickey Mantle.

February 22, 1959: “Little Leagues are the greatest thing

that ever happened to baseball—and Bob Turley”

Yankees fans of a certain age will remember Turley as the World Series MVP of 1958, when he pitched in four games, won two of them, and the Bombers knocked off the defending champ Milwaukee Braves. The unidentified kid on the cover would be about 70 right now. We hope he’s still reading Parade!

March 14, 1954: “[Casey Stengel] crooked an angry finger at Mantle…”

According to our preseason coverage that year, the Yanks’ immortal manager called the Mick on the carpet for blowing gum bubbles in the outfield. Another Stengel hot take on Mickey: “He should win the triple batting crown every year. In fact, he should do anything he wants to do." (Except blow bubbles in center field.)

May 4, 1952: “Blackwell pitches like a man falling out of a tree”

That’s how Ewell Blackwell was described by third baseman Bob Elliot, of the Boston Braves. He inspired another frustrated batter, watching the flurry of long arms and legs on the mound, to observe that Blackwell “throws from Kansas City.” That’s a long way from Cincinnati, where Blackwell pitched for eight seasons. He wasn’t pitch-perfect playing for New York in a World Series game in 1952, but the Yanks prevailed anyway.

May 9, 1948: “He’s not the game’s most popular man. But he wins.”

Pitcher Hal Newhowser demonstrated the value of patience—personal and professional. He scuffled through five seasons in Detroit before breaking out with 29 wins in 1944. He won 25 games in 1945 and two in that year’s World Series, helping the Tigers beat the Cubs. “I hate to lose,” he said. He won admittance to the Hall of Fame in 1992.

July 16, 1950: “Harpo at the bat!”

Harpo Marx—the silent partner in the comedy act the Marx Brothers—used his expressive face and rubber limbs to act out the classic Ernest Thayer poem “Casey at the Bat” for a Parade photo feature. His antics brought at least a little joy to Mudville, despite the inevitable strike out.

August 17, 1947: “For Hollywood’s stars, one career is not enough”

Bob Hope and Bing Crosby sauntered, bantered and wise-cracked around the world in their “Road to…” movie series, and they shared an interest in diamonds as well—the baseball kind. Hope invested in his hometown Cleveland Indians in 1946, and Crosby matched him with an interest in the Pittsburgh Pirates. Later, Hope would joke, “I like the Mets. But I like baseball too.”

May 23, 1954: “Red Sox star triumphs over mental breakdown”

Jim Piersall combined amazing defensive skills in the field with an unpredictable streak all over the ballpark, getting into skirmishes with other players, squirting home plate with a water pistol, yelling “I’m going to bunt!” at future Hall of Fame pitcher Satchel Paige—and pulling it off. When he was diagnosed with bipolar disorder (known as “manic depression” in the 1950s), Boston transferred him from the dugout to therapy. It worked. Piersall returned to the field as one of the surest glove-men of his era. Though he was still known for the occasional antic, like the time in 1964 when he went to bat wearing a Beatles wig.

Related Stories

• Photos: Our Favorite Baseball Covers to Celebrate America's Beloved Pastime

• The Best, Worst and Most Painful Moments in World Series History

• A Baseball Life: Stories on Hank Aaron and Mickey Mantle

• Author Joe Posnanski Shares World Series Trivia

April 13, 1952: “The ‘little woman’s’ advice or the

kind of cake she bakes shows up in the score.”

As manager of the New York Giants, Leo Durocher was the king of the off-color tirades directed at umpires, but his wife, film star Laraine Day ruled from the stands. After her husband failed to remove a pitcher in time to save a game, “The Lip” told his wife, “I know, I should have taken [him] out, but who would I put in—you?” Her retort: “I could have done better.”

April 13, 1947: “Here stands baseball’s perfect warrior.”

That deification of Stan “the Man” Musial comes from sportswriter-turned-baseball commissioner Ford Frick. But according to the website of the Hall of Fame, Musial “hit the ball the wrong way. Corkscrew stance. Off-balance follow-through. Inside-out swing.” What might have happened if he’d done it “right”? In the 1940s, MVP Musial led the St. Louis Cardinals to three World Series wins, even while taking a year off to serve in World War II.

July 14, 1957: “Nellie Fox: idol of teenagers—without sideburns.”

Parade didn’t further comment on their cover guy’s clean-shaven face, but 1957 was when the sideburned teen idol Elvis Presley released “Jailhouse Rock.” The Chicago White Sox’ second baseman attracted his own fan club, with 150 young women cheering his every move despite the lack of hip swivels—except during double plays. The future Hall of Famer was the American League MVP in 1959, and he led his team to the World Series, where they lost to the recently relocated L.A. Dodgers.

April 15, 1951: “‘Shrimp’ Rizzuto proves size isn’t everything….”

Phil Rizzuto, dismissed as a rookie because of his diminutive size (5 feet 6 inches), finally got his break with the Yankees, and appeared in nine World Series (7-2 record) and, eventually, the Hall of Fame.

March 15, 1964: “Sandy Koufax, the 28-year-old mound genius”

Parade caught up with him the season after he won 25 games, was league MVP and Pitcher of the Year and won two World Series games over the hated Yankees for the victorious Dodgers. But Koufax also excelled in self-deprecation: “[I’m] just a normal human being,” he told Parade. “I’m not entitled to any special treatment just because I’m a ballplayer.” The Hall of Fame disagreed, seating him among baseball’s immortals in 1972.

August 27, 1972: “Parade’s all-star cheering section”

For a cover story on baseball players’ wives, Parade featured Tom and Nancy Seaver and their daughter, Sarah. The Miracle Mets had recently won the World Series with Tom on the mound, and evidently Sarah was the MVP. Said Nancy: “Pitching coach Rube Walker told me that Sarah is Tom’s good-luck charm, and he won’t let me in [the stadium] unless I bring her.”

April 11, 1954: “The .300 hitter has become the vanishing American”

The cover featured such all-time greats as Stan Musial, Hank Sauer and Roy Campanella (the sixth Black man to play in the majors), but our story was about how they weren’t measuring up, compared with Ty Cobb. Ted Williams blamed a recent innovation—night games: “Night air is heavier,” he said. “The ball doesn’t travel as far.”

May 21, 1950: “Is Ruth’s record in danger?”

Parade targeted Ted Williams and Vern Stephens as potential Ruth killers, but it wasn’t until 11 years later that Roger Maris eclipsed the Bambino’s single-season record of 60 big flies. At century’s end, Sammy Sosa and Mark McGwire beat them both–with help from “Flintstone vitamins,” according to Sosa. Barry Bonds set the all-time record, with 73 (and a steroid shadow) in 2001.

July 11, 1999: “On D-Day, I was firing rockets.”

Yankees catcher and coach Yogi Berra is famous for such comic malaprops as “When you come to a fork in the road, take it.” Which is why Parade scribe James Brady was shocked to learn of Berra’s heroic mission just off Omaha Beach, pounding Germans from a rocket boat. That might make catching a perfect game in the World Series—which Yogi did in 1956, with Don Larsen on the mound—seem like a normal day at the beach.

July 9, 2021: “[The Yankees] were killing it when I was in high school.”

Scarlett Johansson was a teenager living in New York during the Yankees most recent spurt of dominance, from 1998 to 2000. She still roots for the team, which became a problem when fiancé Colin Jost, of Saturday Night Live fame, revealed his true colors: the orange and blue of the New York Mets. “It’s a sore subject,” ScarJo told Parade. “He just told me that he’d rather see the [Boston] Red Sox win than the Yankees win. Like, what?!” They married anyway.

April 26, 2019: He still remembers his first home run

No, we’re not talking about this season’s uber slugger Aaron Judge. Nor that other Aaron, all-timer Henry. The reminiscer is actor/slugger Dennis Quaid, for whom the movies may have been a second career choice. “It was over right center field,” he told Parade, about his star turn at age 12. “I loved the feel of it, the smell of it.” What does a home run smell like? Tune in to the World Series on Fox, on October 28, and catch a whiff.

July 1, 2018: Mark Wahlberg: “Why I love baseball”

Wahlberg has accomplished a lot in life: underwear model, rapper, actor and co-owner of a burger joint called (what else?) Wahlburgers, down the street from Fenway Park in Boston. He even threw out a wild first pitch there, on July 5, 2009, bouncing the ball into a crowd of onlookers. His goal now? “I'd love to take my kids to Fenway for a playoff game or the World Series, where they can really see the intensity and the excitement,” he told Parade in 2018.

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FRESH AIR BY NPR

Friday, November 4, 2022

Billy Porter makes peace with himself: 'I set myself free, honey. No more secrets'

by Terry Gross [Listen· 42:44]

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Ernest Lawrence Thayer - Casey at the Bat

CASEY AT THE BAT

The San Francisco Examiner - June 3, 1888

by Ernest Lawrence Thayer

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day:

The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play,

And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,

A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest

Clung to the hope which springs eternal in the human breast;

They thought, "If only Casey could but get a whack at that--

We'd put up even money now, with Casey at the bat."

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,

And the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was a cake;

So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,

For there seemed but little chance of Casey getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,

And Blake, the much despised, tore the cover off the ball;

And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred,

There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell;

It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;

It pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,

For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place;

There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile lit Casey's face.

And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,

No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;

Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt;

Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,

Defiance flashed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,

And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.

Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped--

"That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one!" the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,

Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore;

"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand;

And it's likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone;

He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;

He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the dun sphere flew;

But Casey still ignored it and the umpire said, "Strike two!"

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered "Fraud!"

But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.

They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,

And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Casey's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate,

He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate;

And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,

And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favoured land the sun is shining bright,

The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light;

And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout,

But there is no joy in Mudville--mighty Casey has struck out.

Casey at the Bat by Ernest Thayer
From the Baseball Almanac - http://www.baseball-almanac.com/poetry/po_case.shtml

It all started in 1885 when George Hearst decided to run for state senator in California. To self-promote his brand of politics, Hearst purchased the San Francisco Examiner. At the completion of the election, Hearst gave the newspaper to his son, William Randolph Hearst.

William, who had experience editing the Harvard Lampoon while at Harvard College, took to California three Lampoon staff members. One of those three was Ernest L. Thayer who signed his humorous Lampoon articles with the pen name Phin.

In the June 3, 1888 issue of The Examiner, Phin appeared as the author of the poem we all know as Casey at the Bat. The poem received very little attention and a few weeks later it was partially republished in the New York Sun, though the author was now known as Anon.

A New Yorker named Archibald Gunter clipped out the poem and saved it as a reference item for a future novel. Weeks later Gunter found another interesting article describing an upcoming performance at the Wallack Theatre by comedian De Wolf Hopper - who was also his personal friend. The August 1888 show (exact date is unknown) had members from the New York and Chicago ball clubs in the audience and the clipping now had a clear and obvious use.

Gunter shared Casey at the Bat with Hopper and the perfomance was nothing short of legendary. Baseball Almanac is pleased to present the single most famous baseball poem ever written.

"Love has its sonnets galore. War has its epics in heroic verse. Tragedy
its sombre story in measured lines. Baseball has Casey at the Bat."

- Albert Spalding

	The "audio moment" below is the actual voice of De Wolf Hopper and you will hear some slight variations in his delivery. Casey at the Bat - DeWolf Hopper - 1906 Victor First Prize Record http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X8fTrc9Cymk When William De Wolf Hopper performed the poem at Wallack's Theatre, on Broadway and 30th Street in New York City, players from the New York Giants and Chicago White Stockings were guests in the auditorium. Ernest Lawrence Thayer actually wrote three versions of Casey at the Bat — the first printing, a self-corrupted version, and the revised version.

Wikiepedia Info on Poem - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Casey%27s_Revenge#Sequels

"Casey at the Bat: A Ballad of the Republic Sung in the Year 1888" is a baseball poem written in 1888 by Ernest Thayer. First published in The San Francisco Examiner on June 3, 1888, it was later popularized by DeWolf Hopper in many vaudeville performances.

The poem was originally published anonymously (under the pen name "Phin", based on Thayer's college nickname, "Phineas"). The author's identity was not widely known at first. A number falsely claimed to have authored the poem, and Thayer's efforts to set the record straight were often ignored.

Sequels

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Casey%27s_Revenge#Sequels

"Casey's Revenge", by Grantland Rice (1907), gives Casey another chance against the pitcher who had struck him out in the original story. It was written in 1906, and its first known publication was in the quarterly magazine The Speaker in June 1907, under the pseudonym of James Wilson^[17]. In this version, Rice cites the nickname "Strike-Out Casey", hence the influence on Casey Stengel's name. Casey's team is down three runs by the last of the ninth, and once again Casey is down to two strikes—with the bases full this time. However, he connects, hits the ball so far that it is never found, and the final stanza reads:

Oh! somewhere in this favored land dark clouds may hide the sun;

And somewhere bands no longer play and children have no fun;

And somewhere over blighted loves there hangs a heavy pall;

But Mudville hearts are happy now--for Casey hit the ball.

In response to the popularity of the 1946 Walt Disney, Disney released a sequel, "Casey Bats Again" (1954), in which Casey's nine daughters redeem his reputation.

In 1988, on the 100th anniversary of the poem, Sports Illustrated writer Frank Deford constructed a fanciful story (later expanded to book form) which posited Katie Casey, the subject of the song "Take Me Out to the Ball Game", as being the daughter of the famous slugger from the poem.

In 2010, Ken Eagle wrote “The Mudville Faithful,” covering a century of the Mudville nine's ups and downs since Casey struck out. Faithful fans still root for the perpetually losing team, and are finally rewarded by a trip to the World Series, led by Casey's great-grandson who is also named Casey. 

Casey’s Revenge Grantland Rice (first published in The Nashville Tennessean, 1907) Grantland Rice (November 1, 1880 – July 13, 1954) was an early 20th century American sportswriter known for his elegant prose. His writing was published in newspapers around the country and broadcast on the radio. There were saddened hearts in Mudville for a week or even more; There were muttered oaths and curses—every fan in town was sore. “Just think,” said one, “how soft it looked with Casey at the bat, And then to think he’d go and spring a bush league trick like that!” All his past fame was forgotten—he was now a hopeless “shine.” They called him “Strike-Out Casey,” from the mayor down the line; And as he came to bat each day his bosom heaved a sigh, While a look of hopeless fury shone in mighty Casey’s eye. He pondered in the days gone by that he had been their king, That when he strolled up to the plate they made the welkin ring; But now his nerve had vanished, for when he heard them hoot He “fanned” or “popped out” daily, like some minor league recruit. He soon began to sulk and loaf, his batting eye went lame; No home runs on the score card now were chalked against his name; The fans without exception gave the manager no peace, For one and all kept clamoring for Casey’s quick release. The Mudville squad began to slump, the team was in the air; Their playing went from bad to worse—nobody seemed to care. “Back to the woods with Casey!” was the cry from Rooters’ Row. “Get some one who can hit the ball, and let that big dub go!” The lane is long, some one has said, that never turns again, And Fate, though fickle, often gives another chance to men; And Casey smiled; his rugged face no longer wore a frown— The pitcher who had started all the trouble came to town. All Mudville had assembled—ten thousand fans had come To see the twirler who had put big Casey on the bum; And when he stepped into the box, the multitude went wild; He doffed his cap in proud disdain, but Casey only smiled. “Play ball!” the umpire’s voice rang out, and then the game began. But in that throng of thousands there was not a single fan Who thought that Mudville had a chance, and with the setting sun Their hopes sank low—the rival team was leading “four to one.” The last half of the ninth came round, with no change in the score; But when the first man up hit safe, the crowd began to roar; The din increased, the echo of ten thousand shouts was heard When the pitcher hit the second and gave “four balls” to the third. Three men on base —nobody out —three runs to tie the game! A triple meant the highest niche in Mudville’s hall of fame; But here the rally ended and the gloom was deep as night, When the fourth one “fouled to catcher” and the fifth “flew out to right.” A dismal groan in chorus came; a scowl was on each face When Casey walked up, bat in hand, and slowly took his place; His bloodshot eyes in fury gleamed, his teeth were clenched in hate; He gave his cap a vicious hook and pounded on the plate. But fame is fleeting as the wind and glory fades away; There were no wild and woolly cheers, no glad acclaim this day; They hissed and groaned and hooted as they clamored: “Strike him out!” But Casey gave no outward sign that he had heard this shout. The pitcher smiled and cut one loose —across the plate it sped; Another hiss, another groan. “Strike one!” the umpire said. Zip! Like a shot the second curve broke just below the knee. “Strike two!” the umpire roared aloud; but Casey made no plea. No roasting for the umpire now —his was an easy lot; But here the pitcher whirled again—was that a rifle shot? A whack, a crack, and out through the space the leather pellet flew, A blot against the distant sky, a speck against the blue. Above the fence in center field in rapid whirling flight The sphere sailed on —the blot grew dim and then was lost to sight. Ten thousand hats were thrown in air, ten thousand threw a fit, But no one ever found the ball that mighty Casey hit. O, somewhere in this favored land dark clouds may hide the sun, And somewhere bands no longer play and children have no fun! And somewhere over blighted lives there hangs a heavy pall, But Mudville hearts are happy now, for Casey hit the ball.