Sticky Stuff

The result was clear. But he wouldn’t give up. He took his grievance to the courts, refusing to concede, using each rebuff as fuel for his claims of a conspiracy. He wasted millions of dollars, thousands of billable hours and our precious time in order to change the course of history. And what did it get him? This badge of dishonor: Sore Loser.

We are speaking not of the lame-duck President of the United States of America, though we could be, but rather of a similar personality type from another era and another arena. Namely, George Steinbrenner.

The case in point is what came to be known as The Pine Tar Game. At Yankee Stadium on July 24, 1983, George Brett hit a two-run homer off Goose Gossage into the right field seats with two outs in the top of the ninth to give the Royals a 5-4 lead. But after his triumphant tour around the bases, Yankee manager Billy Martin came out of the dugout to ask the home plate umpire Tim McClelland to inspect Brett’s bat to see if the pine tar on the handle exceeded the 18-inch limit mandated by Rule 1.10 (c). The umpires then measured the length of the substance on the bat against the 17-inch width of home plate. Because the sticky stuff clearly exceeded 18 inches, crew chief Joe Brinkman decided to apply Rule 6.06, which calls for a batter to be declared out for the use of illegal equipment. The decision ended the game—and started a brawl that lasted 25 days. 

George throws a Royal fit

There was the immediate reaction—Brett came charging out of the dugout at the umpires and had to be restrained. Then came the fight off the field. The Royals protested the decision to American League President Lee MacPhail, who decided four days later that the umpires had misinterpreted the intent of the rule, which was not about getting a competitive edge but rather about saving baseballs from being tossed out of the game because they were stained. (He cited a 1975 precedent that also involved the Royals.) MacPhail ordered that the game be resumed at the earliest convenience, while also ruling that Brett, manager Dick Howser and coach Rocky Colavito be ejected for berating the umpires and that Royals pitcher Gaylord Perry be thrown out for trying to hide the bat.

The best available date to resume the game was a mutual off-day on Thursday, August 18. But the Yankees sought to postpone that date in court, partly on the grounds that two fans were suing them over the cost of admission for a game that had only three outs to go, and partly because they claimed they couldn’t hold back angry fans.

Representing Steinbrenner in court was none other than the notorious attorney Roy Cohen—the same Roy Cohen who taught a young real estate developer named Donald Trump the power of litigation. The Royals flew from Kansas City to Newark, but it wasn’t until they were already at the ballpark that Justice Joseph P. Sullivan of the Appellate Division of the State Supreme Court told the parties, “As far as the stay, I guess I can state it best in two words: ‘Play Ball.”

I was there that day for the resumption, and this is what I wrote for Sports Illustrated:

https://vault.si.com/vault/1983/08/29/pine-tarred-and-feathered

When the game resumed with two outs in the top of the ninth, Billy Martin had a new centerfielder, staff ace Ron Guidry, and a new second baseman, first baseman Don Mattingly, the first left-hander to play second base since 1970. He also had reliever George Frazier throw over to first, then second, claiming the substitute umpiring crew could not have known if Brett had actually touched those bases. MacPhail was ready for him—umpire Dave Phillips produced a notarized affidavit from the original umpires attesting to the fact that Brett had indeed touched the bases.

Dan Quisenberry made quick work of the Yankees in the bottom of the ninth, and the Royals won, 5-4. The next day the Yankees telexed the league office to protest that result on the grounds that the original first base umpire Drew Coble had no business signing the affidavit because he was watching the flight of the ball when Brett ran past him at first.

(Noted collector Barry Halper acquired both the pine tar bat and the home run ball. He even had Gossage sign it. Goose’s inscription was, “I threw the fucking ball.”)

Back then I wrote, “You didn’t really think the game was over, did you?”

At least Steinbrenner didn’t send a mob after MacPhail.

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