Interview with the Professional Baseball Player
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Steve Hamilton was a professional baseball player in the U.S. major leagues for twenty years. He played relief pitcher for the Washington Senators, New York Yankees, San Francisco Giants, and Chicago Cubs.
In 1971, he was interviewed by Studs Terkel for his book Working: People Talk About What They Do All Day and How They Feel About What They Do (1974). At the time, Hamilton was playing for the Giants.
One thing’s for sure, Hamilton knows a few things about playing pro ball at the highest possible level in the U.S. There was a time when every boy in America dreamed of becoming a big league baseball player. If you’ve ever wondered what it’s really like to be one, learn about it from a man who lived it for twenty years.
THE BASEBALL PLAYER
He explains how he got in: “I signed with the Cleveland Indians in 1958, with their farm club. Back and forth in the minors.” Hamilton was working on a master’s degree, when a scout signed him up. “I told them I was twenty-one. I was really twenty-three. He felt I wouldn’t have a good chance if I was twenty-three, so I went along with him. Now I give my right age. I’m thirty-six. (Laughs.)
“Age is very important in baseball. If you’ve got two prospects of equal ability, one kid’s twenty and I’m twenty-three, they’re gonna take the boy that’s twenty. They think they’re gonna have him longer. That’s why it was important to the scout that I be twenty-one. Scouts get some money back if you make the big leagues. Most of us in baseball who are thirty are considered old men. Lotta times when Larry Jansen [pitching coach for the Giants] wants me to get in the bull pen, he’d say, ‘Pappy …’ (Laughs.) I don’t feel old; but, in baseball, I’m ancient.”
He talks about the minor leagues, which is a prerequisite for the major leagues: “The average time in the big leagues is two to four years. When you consider that only one of about seventy that sign a contract even make the big leagues, that’s a very short life. In the minors, guys’ll play eight, nine years. He’s getting really nothing. He makes about five thousand dollars a year. If he hangs on long enough, he may make ten thousand. But, he has no winter job; and, he becomes an organization man. They figure he can help young players. And, age is passing by …
“In the minor leagues, we spent a lot of hours riding in buses, and they were so hot, and you didn’t have too many stops to eat. You ate poorly because you had bad meal money. We got $1.50 a day. But, you were young. When I was with a class B league, I got a long distance call. My wife went to the hospital in labor. It was the first baby. I had to get home. The ticket was forty-some dollars. We didn’t have it between us (laughs)—the manager, everybody. I got there a day late. I thought baseball players made so much money. (Laughs.) That’s why I wanted to play it, loving the game, too.”
He talks about his fame and his fans: “Several times, I’d go downtown in Manhattan and somebody’d stop me say, ‘Aren’t you Steve Hamilton?’ This made me feel all puffed up. It made me feel good that people knew me. Whether guys admit it or not, I think most of them feel good when they’re recognized. They feel they’re something special. Everybody gets a kick out of feeling special. I think that’s one part of this game. [¶] I’ve never been a big star. I’ve never done anything outstanding. I feel I’ve been as good as I can be with the equipment I have. I played with Mickey Mantle, and now I’m playing with Willie Mays. People always recognize them. Yogi Berra, people always recognize him. Yogi has a face you couldn’t forget. But, for someone to recognize me!”
He has been thinking about quitting: “To be honest with you, I’m ready to quit. I feel I don’t want to play any more. I’m losing the desire. I suppose I can play for several more years; but, I don’t quite have the same spring in my legs. I’d be the first to admit it. My arm is good because I never did throw hard. I was never a power pitcher. I was always a curve ball pitcher, control. You don’t lose it this quick. But, I’m tired of traveling. I’m tired of the hours; and, I’m losing the zest. When this happens, it’s time to leave.
“People say we’re lucky we have airplane travel. It means they can schedule more games. We play 162 games now. Before, we played 154 in the same amount of time. Now, we play more night games. Last night, we played a game in St. Louis. It was over about ten forty. We had to get dressed and take a forty-five-minute bus ride to the airport. We took our short fifty-five- minute flight to Chicago. We had another thirty-five-minute bus ride from the airport to downtown. We got in here last night around two o’clock. The bags were late coming in. They had a mix-up. Three thirty, we’re still waitin’ up for our bags. It adds up to a real long night, when we had to play a game today. [¶] There’s a rule that says if there’s a flight one hour and a half or less, you can schedule a night game and day game the next day. The old umpire who said, ‘You can’t beat them hours’—that was another time. (Laughs.) Another thing, when you travel by train, you don’t worry so much about crashes. Everybody, in the back of their mind, thinks about it. There’s a little bit of worry, especially in bad weather. We were coming into Milwaukee last year, and, while we were bouncin’ around, comin’ in for a hairy landing, Pete Ward said, ‘Babe Ruth never hit sixty home runs traveling like this.’ (Laughs.) The tension’s really rough. On the train, they were relaxed. They talked. They slept. When they came in, they didn’t go from one bus to another. I don’t think conditions are that much better now. [¶] A longer season, more games scheduled, and longer spring training. We start playing exhibition games right away. Here again, a night game last night, a day game today, a doubleheader tomorrow. We were to have an off-day Monday; but, they scheduled an exhibition game Monday night in Minnesota with the Twins. (Laughs.) Then, we get on a plane after THAT game and travel all the way to San Francisco to play the next day. (Laughs.)”
What is the purpose of an exhibition game? “Money. (Laughs.) Willie Mays once played for Minnesota, and they’re capitalizing on his name. The Giants are guaranteed so much money, and Calvin Griffith [owner of the Minnesota Twins] is gonna make a bundle. It’s gonna hurt us because we need the rest. Here we are in the pennant race; and, we’re tired. We’re goin’ rather badly. We were lookin’ forward to the day off. Maybe you just want to sleep all day, or just relax and get away from it. But, we’re playing Monday night just to make extra money for someone. It kinda hurts.”
Terkel provided additional, subsequent facts in his book that further support Hamilton’s point: “The Giants, in first place at the time of this conversation, blew the pennant. In 1972, the Chicago White Sox and the Oakland Athletics, battling for first place, played a nineteen-inning game. It was August 11. On the following night, they played another extra inning game. On the following night, the Sox traveled to Chicago and played an exhibition game with the Cubs.”
Hamilton talks about some lesser-known changes to the sport: “For a day game, I go to the park about ten. We sign anywhere from one to two dozen baseballs every day. When I was with the Yankees, six dozen each day. We used to hate that. People in the front office have friends they want to give them to. I don’t know where all these balls go. Six dozen a day! Eighty-one days! That’s a lot of baseballs! (Laughs.) [¶] People criticize pitchers. But, in the past few years, the baseball’s hotter. It’s wound tighter and can go further. Anybody can hit a home run now. Everybody swings for the fence; and, you’re more nervous about throwing a strike. Old-timers say they just reared back and threw the ball. Now, you get wild because you’re hesitant about throwing that ball over the plate. So, that makes the game longer.
“There’s not much talk about the craft anymore. Say you’ve got a fella who’s an outfielder. He’s learned in the minors that there are certain ways you catch a ball. You’ve got to learn which base to throw it to. You’ve got to know how to scoop up a ball. Nobody comes to see a fellow because he’s a good outfielder. What he comes to do is hit. He’ll come out early in the batting cage; and, he’ll hit and hit and hit. He won’t shag flies. He won’t catch fungoes. It’s not important to him. There’s no status in catching a fly ball. I’m sure that’s the way it is with a lot of jobs. You work on the things that bring you the most fame and fortune.
“The average fan can’t understand it. They think you’re overpaid and you’ve got great working hours. They read about the superstars and huge salaries. For most of us, the money’s not that great—when it’s only for a short time and it doesn’t really help you when you’re out of baseball. There are only 600 of us; and, we’re the tops in our profession. To play baseball, you’ve got unique skills. There’s a great to-do about our salaries; but, no one questions the income of the 600 top lawyers or top insurance men—the kind who own the ball clubs. I’ve always wondered about that. [¶] You can be traded any time they want to trade you. There’s no guarantee. You may just move your family; and, you get traded again. You’ve got 72 hours to go from one club to another. We feel the player should have some say-so over where he goes and where he leaves. Let’s say a kid comes up from the minors. He’s here a month; and, they ship him back. He’s brought his whole family with him …
“In the last ten years, baseball has changed a lot. We’re getting more college boys. When I first went into the game, they used to get on me, call me ‘professor’ because I had a college education. Today, more of ‘em are thinking about what they’re gonna do when they get out of baseball. Sometimes, they’re criticized for being too conscious about later life. It’s crazy not to. I’ve seen guys over thirty playing minor leagues. They’ll play baseball in the summertime and work nonskilled labor in the wintertime. They’ve got no future at all. There’s nothing they’re trained to do. You’d be amazed at the number of ballplayers that have no means of income and are in bad shape. Most of ‘em are old-timers and some of ‘em are pretty famous. [¶] You hear so much about welfare. How do you get around it? They’re criticized our Players’ Association for not helping old ballplayers. Why should the onus be on the modern player? Why not the owners? They played for them. They made the money for them.
“I was a players’ representative with the Yankees for five years. I was the American League rep for four of those years. In the early days, someone took the job because no one else wanted it. There was a big problem. We really had no permanence. To keep the Players’ Association in turmoil, all you had to do is keep trading player reps. I couldn’t prove it; but, I know player representatives’ life expectancy was fairly short. We were always in a state of confusion.
“You always hated to say anything against the owners because you were made to feel you were lucky to be playing baseball. You should be thankful for it. Never mind you’re not getting a fair shake; you’re lucky to be there, and you shouldn’t ever—but never—criticize the major league owners or the administration. One of the first things my coach in college told me when I went into pro baseball: ‘Don’t be a clubhouse lawyer.’ [¶] A clubhouse lawyer was a troublemaker. Don’t make waves, man. Don’t rock the boat. Just go play. Do your job. And, be happy. You hear? That stuck with me. I was a good boy. There were very few clubhouse lawyers. They were branded right away as being loud-mouthed hotheads who didn’t care about the game. It seems to me a person who speaks out against injustice is not a clubhouse lawyer. He’s just exercising his rights.
“’The good of the game’ is what you hear so much about. Everything owners do is for ‘the good of the game.’ They talk about baseball as a sport. But, they move teams around from city to city, strictly for money. A new team in Seattle two years ago cost the people about five million dollars. It sold for a tremendous amount. Here’s a club that’s supposed to be losing a lot of money. Yet, there was an interested buyer. No club in baseball loses money. Every club makes money. I don’t see how you could call it a sport. It’s big business.
“Company ownership has replaced the individual owner. This became apparent to me when we signed the first agreement with the owners. There wasn’t one baseball team that was called, say, the Boston Red Sox. It was Golden West and CBS and Charles Finney Enterprises. They’re all parts of corporations. This is how they make money. It’s a super tax write-off. There’s no way that any club that’s part of a corporation can lose money. Finley’s Oakland team is part of his insurance company. The Yankees are CBS. The Giants are part of a land corporation. It’s impersonal. [¶] A lot of owners don’t really want to know players; then, you become more than a name. You become more than a piece of paper they can trade or sell or release. They insist on knowing you as a thing. It’s easy for them to manipulate. But, when you become involved with somebody, it’s difficult. The only way to run a successful baseball operation is to treat the players as things. [¶] Or, as children. This bed check, watching players. Why would check on men over twenty-one? Call their room, make sure they’re in bed? It makes you feel funny. You’re an adult; and, yet, they do this to you. Your phone rings. You’re asleep. Say it’s twelve thirty. You’ve gone to sleep at eleven. They call. ‘Hey, are you in?’ (Laughs.) You wake up out of a deep sleep. Okay, now you can go to sleep till four in the morning. (Laughs.)”
He believes players get blacklisted if they criticize management: “Blacklist? I have no proof. But, Clete Boyer was one of the best defensive third basemen in baseball. He was released by Atlanta for criticizing the management. You’ve got teams in the pennant race who can use him. He wasn’t picked up by a single club. I’ve a hunch there’s collusion between managements. He’s now playing in Hawaii. If this wasn’t a blacklist, there never was one.”
The Players’ Association does what it can: “The Association has helped us in contracts. I’m not a businessman, so they really rip me up. Now, we have someone to help us. The minimum was five thousand dollars in the beginning. Then, it was seven thousand until three years ago. Then, it went up to ten. It’s going up to $13,500 next year. This was a super battle. When you consider how much the cost of living’s gone up, it’s not out of line. And, you don’t stay long in baseball. You’ve got to recognize it. [¶] You’ve got a lot more freethinking players today. They never thought much of it before. We all had the attitude: Don’t question it. There are a lot of guys trying to take your job; and, they’re all pretty good. So, you’re lucky to be here. If you’re a big star, you don’t worry about it because you’re making a hundred thousand dollars a year. You could care less. I don’t blame ‘em. If I had $125,000 a year and lived in one town, I’d be more reluctant to criticize a ball club. The owners treat the star very well because he’s their meal ticket. Those guys usually don’t kick. But, a lot of that’s changing now. Today ballplayers are more concerned with helping each other. The young fellow is more aware also of world events and what’s going on. We talk a lot more of social problems. [¶] When I first started playing in the Southern Association in 1960, they didn’t even allow black players. We were lily-white. Now, the relationship is pretty good. But, I couldn’t say there’s no racism.”
What does it all mean to him? “With some guys, winning is everything. It’s the whole ball of wax. If you don’t win, it’s a waste. I do my best. But, if you judge your life on winnin’, you’re hurtin’. I know we play for money. They guys say, ‘If I don’t win, I don’t make any money.’ But, if I go out and play, there’s a certain satisfaction in knowing I’ve done as good as I can. No matter how hard I try, I could never be a Sandy Coufax. But, if I can be as good as Steve Hamilton, I feel I’ve been successful.
“I might tell you things about myself I really don’t want to know. When I was in the minor leagues, I used to hope guys in the big leagues would do bad, so I could get up there. I didn’t know the guys. Some days, it’d bother me. I used to wonder if it was right. I used to wonder if it was sinful. It’s almost like saying, ‘I don’t know whether I’ve got the ability; but, if he fails, I’ll have a chance.’ I have seen guys really happy when other guys do bad on their own team because it makes them look better. It’s a sign that he’s insecure. It’s a bad thing to see. I can’t say I ever rooted against a pitcher.
“I see guys that come back. You watch ‘em come in the clubhouse. Nobody recognizes ‘em. The fans don’t know ‘em anymore. I set back and watch the front runners come and grab ahold of the guys that are doin’ good and are big stars. They want to grad ahold of their shirttail. I’ve seen too many guys get a false sense of importance. People always saying good things about you and treating you like you’re something special. You start believing you’re something special. Now, they’re out of baseball. They feel, ‘I was great.’ But, nobody remembers them. It doesn’t make any difference what your name is. I’ve seen people really have a hard time coping with it.
“You find out people no longer want to be associated with you when you’re no longer in the limelight. I’ve seen these people come into the locker room at Yankee stadium. And, I’ve seen ‘em quit coming. When we went to sixth place, then to last, I didn’t see ‘em around at all. Last year, we got back to second place. I saw them comin’ back. (Laughs.) Yeah, here they come again. The front runners.
“A lot of ex-players go into insurance or as car salesmen. I’ve talked to two or three of ‘em: Yeah, because I was big, it got me in to see a lot of people.’ Today, things are tighter; and, what you were doesn’t mean that much. When I get out of baseball, I feel sure I will coach and teach. This is what I want to do. I do a lot of Christian work in the wintertime. [¶] Once, you start getting recognized, it becomes important to you. I didn’t used to feel that way. One day, when we were coming off the plane, a guy asked me if I was the traveling secretary. That’s not good. (Laughs.) I put stuff on my hair; and, it went sort of medium-brown. But I don’t like it, and I’m letting it grow out. I just figure it was me. I don’t feel right. My legs still hurt; my arms didn’t feel any better. (Laughs.) [¶] Recognition. Fame. I think of all the time I stood outside my house in Charlestown, Indiana, a two-tone brick; and, I threw a baseball where the different colors met. I hit it over and over and over again. We caught flies where it got too dark to see—just hours and hours and hours and hours … That’s what most of us have done.”
CONCLUSION
Hamilton’s 20 years as a professional baseball player is remarkably similar to Nesterenko’s 20 years as a professional hockey player. So much so that it’s probably fair to say that all professional sports players probably have to deal with the cold, hard business side of their jobs as well as the tremendous excitement of fame and fortune, at least until those begin to fade.
Let’s face it. No job is easy. It always comes back to the same thing. No amount of money is worth doing something you hate. By the same token, if you love what you do, it doesn’t even feel like work because it’s a labor of love. Somewhere between these two realities is a job you can live with long enough to save enough to invest enough to get the things you need and want in life.
It’s up to us to find that occupation and keep that balance as long as we can. Then, if the balance tips over to the side where we can’t stand it any longer, it’s time to reassess our situation and make the necessary changes to find that balance again—instead of useless bellyaching like the Stockbroker.
Learn more intimate details about other U.S. occupations from people who worked in them for years from the other articles in the “Interviews With” series.
By the way, if you’re at a game and get hit by a foul ball, guess what? No matter how serious your injuries are—even if they result in your death—the player, team, league, or anyone else can’t be sued. To learn more, click here.
If you would like a copy of Mr. Terkel’s book: click here
[For more “Interviews With” articles, click here.]
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