Читать книгу Summer of Shadows - Jonathan Knight - Страница 27

The following Monday, America found out it was still fighting the Civil War.

With the unanimous decision of the U.S. Supreme Court in a case originating from Topeka, Kansas, labeled Brown vs. Board of Education, segregation in schools was deemed unconstitutional, sending much of the nation south of the Mason-Dixon Line into furious hysterics.

And while the debates raged (the term “civil rights” was yet to be coined) on the editorial pages of newspapers from coast to coast, one story continued to dominate Cleveland’s sports pages. The red-hot Indians continued their purge of the American League, rallying from three-run deficits on back-to-back nights to beat the Red Sox, then posting another impressive rally two days later to top Baltimore. With more than 24,000 on hand for a Sunday doubleheader with the Orioles, the Tribe put the finishing touches on a nearly perfect home stand. In the opener, the Indians exploded for sixteen hits and fourteen runs in a blowout, giving Bob Feller his 250th career victory. They then changed gears in the second game, prevailing in an old-fashioned pitcher’s duel between Bob Turley—who had nearly no-hit the Indians a month before—and Cleveland’s Art Houtteman.

“Hard-Luck Houtteman” came into the league with Detroit in 1945, four months shy of his eighteenth birthday, the youngest player to debut in the American League since Bob Feller lit up the circuit at age seventeen nine years before. Naturally, Houtteman struggled at first, and in his first year as a full-time starter in 1948, he lost his first eight decisions and sloshed to a miserable 2–16 record. In the majority of his losses, he didn’t pitch that poorly, but either he didn’t receive much run support or gave up a big inning at the wrong time. Hence, his unfortunate nickname originated and began to appear in the papers.

But in the years to come, whatever tough breaks he endured on the diamond paled in comparison to the adversity he faced off it. During spring training in 1949, Houtteman was driving back from a dance held at a college in Lakeland, Florida, when his car collided with a fruit truck. Hospitalized with a fractured skull, the early prognosis for his recovery wasn’t good. But he pulled through and returned to the team in May. Continuing his rough patch, he lost his first three starts, but then turned things around, finishing the season with a 15–10 record. He was even better in 1950, winning nineteen games, and at twenty-two years old, appeared destined for a promising career. But once again, his life took a series of cruel turns. A few weeks after the 1950 season ended, Houtteman was drafted into the Army. Though he was deemed unfit for active duty because of lingering headaches caused by his accident, he would miss the 1951 season. Things looked up that summer when his wife gave birth to their first child, a daughter they named Sheryl. Seven months later, Houtteman’s wife, Shelagh, was driving through the mountains of Tennessee on her way back from visiting her husband during spring training when the car went off the road. It rolled over twice, throwing Sheryl from the car and killing her.

Once again, Houtteman tried to submerge his grief in the magic waters of baseball. He returned later that month to a Tigers team that had lost its first eight games and was essentially already eliminated from the pennant race. He was one out away from immortality on April 26, needing to retire just one more Cleveland batter to secure a no-hitter. Catcher Joe Ginsberg called for a curveball to Indians outfielder Harry Simpson, but Houtteman shook him off and instead threw a fastball. Simpson ripped the pitch for a single, spoiling the no-hitter. It was the beginning of a long year for Art Houtteman.

Suffering from the loss of his daughter and a form of what would later become known as Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Houtteman’s ERA ballooned almost a full point and he lost twenty games. After losing six of nine starts with an ERA flirting near 6.00 to start 1953, Houtteman was shipped to Cleveland, where Al Lopez, a consummate evaluator of hurlers, saw a spark in the troubled pitcher. “All he needed,” Lopez said, “was to regain his confidence.” Once again, Mel Harder was called upon to reconstruct a struggling pitcher. Houtteman’s incredible bad luck continued in Cleveland as he lost four straight decisions, but he won five of his last six to finish at 7–7 with the Indians with a much more respectable 3.80 ERA. His life outside of baseball also began to heal. Shelagh gave birth to their second daughter, Holly, the following February. After several years of misery, Art Houtteman had finally found a home, one that the specter of misfortune couldn’t penetrate.