Willie Mays Comes Home

He broke records and racial barriers and changed baseball forever. What he hasn't done is talk much about it. With a new biography on the way, the legend sat down with Jason Gay to discuss his friendship with Sinatra, the best catch he ever made, and why he's not known as "the greatest"

There are people in the new book, Willie Mays: The Life, The Legend, who say that, as wonderfully talented as Willie Mays was as a baseball player, he was actually better at football and basketball. True?

Yes.The reason I picked baseball is because there’s no size limit. You can be any size and you still can play baseball -- if you’re good at it. My father played left field on the steel mill team [in Birmingham, Alabama]. We talked many times about how I should play and, most of all, how I should conduct myself in the game of baseball. I played twenty-two years and never got [tossed] out of a game. Never missed one.

_There are stories in the book from your father talking about how he knew, even at the age of one or two -- when he was just tossing a ball to you -- that he knew that there was something special about your baseball ability. _

He knew that. I didn’t know that! [Laughs] He knew all that. I didn’t know all that type of stuff. But it was fun, later on. I think I was six or seven and we started going to the baseball field and doing everything as far as learning how to catch, learning how to pitch...Every position that I knew about.

_You were a very young man when you first got the opportunity to play professional baseball. You were a teenager, yet you were playing with men who were much older. _

Well, it started in Chattanooga, Tennessee. I was in high school and I went to Chattanooga to play shortstop. I thought I was better in center field than I was at shortstop, so they moved me from short to play in center field. The reason I came back to Birmingham was that it started raining so much. When it rained or snowed or something, we didn’t get any money. So it rained about three or four days, and I didn’t have any money coming in, so I just called my dad and said, "It’s probably time for me to come home." But he was ahead of me-he already had called the manager, named Piper Davis, and said, "There’s a special kid that I want you to see." So they played a game for me in my home town, and I was playing with a team called the Black Barons. And Piper saw me playing short and then he moved me to center field. And then I knew that was my position.

_Did center field feel more comfortable? _

Well I liked the idea of trying to play all three outfields. When I said three outfields, we talk about gap balls-balls that go in the gap in left field...right center...all that. It was fun for me to run down balls and see guys go around first -- then have to make that turn to go back to the dugout.

_There’s a wonderful story about the first time you faced Satchel Paige. _

Oh, yeah. We were in Memphis, Tennessee. It was like a playoff game. It might have been ’48. Satchel had a very, very good fastball. But he threw me a little breaking ball, just to see what I could do, and I hit it off the top of the fence. And I got a double. When I got to second, Satchel told the third baseman, "Let me know when that little boy comes back up." Three innings later, I go to kneel down in the on-deck circle, and I hear the third baseman say, "There he is." Satch looked at the third baseman, and then he looked at me. I walk halfway to home plate and he says, "Little boy." I say, "Yes, sir?" because Satch was much older than I am, so I was trying to show respect. He walked halfway to home plate and said, "Little boy, I’m not going to trick you. I’m going to throw you three fastballs and you’re going to go sit down." And I’m saying in my mind, "I don’t think so." If he threw me three of the same pitch, I’m going to hit it somewhere. He threw me two fastballs and I just swung...I swung right through it. And the third ball he threw, and I tell people this all the time, he threw the ball and then he started walking. And he says, "Go sit down." This is while the ball was in the air. He was just a magnificent pitcher.

_How did it feel when the New York Giants came to you and said, "We want you to be part of our major league club"? _

I didn’t know if it was true. I didn’t get excited about too many things because there were so many let-downs. But I was saying to myself, "If this is true, I’m going to be in the majors pretty soon." I never said anything to anybody because I wanted to make sure that they were going to sign me, first.

_Given how young you were, why were you so confident you would make it to the major leagues? _

Well anything that I ever did, I had a lot of confidence in myself. I actually only played one year in high school. The next year I played men’s baseball—I was 16, 17. I could play against anybody. I didn’t care who they were. If they knocked me down I got up and go right back, knock them down, and moved on. No crying. I didn’t do that. So I guess I had more confidence in myself than people thought I did.

_After being signed by the Giants, you went to the minors, and you were having a terrific year in Minneapolis when the Giants decided that they wanted to call you up to the majors. Is it true that when Giants manager Leo Durocher called that you told him you weren’t ready to go right up to the majors just yet? _

We were in a movie in Sioux City, Iowa and on the screen came a little message that said, "WILLIE MAYS PLEASE REPORT TO THE LOBBY."

_A typewritten message on the screen? _

Yes. Anyway, I went to the hotel and Leo was on the phone. He says, "Go to the hotel. You’re coming right up." I said, "For what? I don’t want to go right up." But Leo was a talker. He convinced me that I should be up. I said, "Man, I’m not ready to play. I’ve only been here a week or two weeks. Why should I rush myself up there? Let me stay here at least two or three months and let me enjoy myself." He said, "No, we need you now. The ticket is on its way. You’ll be on a plane tomorrow." So I said, "Shit." I didn’t think I could be that quick to get into the majors. A guy named Frank Forbes met me at the airport. He took me down to 42nd Street—that was where the Giants office was. We had to sign contracts and things like that before they could even think about letting me play. We went from signing the contracts to getting the train to go down to [play in] Philadelphia. When I got to Philadelphia they were having batting practice. And something strange happened that I had never seen before. They’re taking pictures and things like that, and Leo says, "Go take batting practice." I said, "Ah, I don’t want to take batting practice." So I get in the cage, and the first three or four balls...It’s old Shibe Park...I hit it on the roof. There was a [outfield] roof in Shibe Park. Now the whole team of the Phillies stopped to see who I was because not many guys hit balls on top of the roof. So Leo says, "See that?" I still don’t know what the hell he’s talking about, because it wasn’t that big of a deal to me because I used to do that all the time. So he says, "You’re something special." And I said, "Maybe so." But, anyway, I went, maybe, 0 for 12 in that series, but we won all three games.

_It was a tough time at the plate, those first few games. _

I got one hit in about thirteen or fourteen [tries] -- off of Warren Spahn. But after 0 for 10, I relad and I started hitting the ball hard over the fence in all kinds of ways. But I played good defense, and that’s what Leo wanted-somebody to catch the ball.

_As far as your defense, there was your famous catch in the 1954 World Series. It’s described all the time as one of the most memorable moments in baseball history. Even today, people simply call it ’The Catch.’ But does it make your personal top five? _

Well, first of all, I never worry about things like that. I just caught the ball, and if you guys want to rate it, that’s fine. It wasn’t that important to me. What was important to me in 1954 was winning the World Series. The Catch? The pitcher was Don Liddle. He just came in in relief. And in the Polo Grounds, I played shallow all the time. Regardless of who was hitting, I played shallow, and when the ball was hit, it was hit high. Vic Wertz hit it. It was hit high and I’m running. I’m not worrying about catching the ball. I’ve got the ball. The one thing I’m worried about-there was only one out, and I said, "Oh, there’s one out. Now what am I doing?" As I’m running, I’m talking to myself. I was going to the warning track, off the dirt, off the grass...something is going to happen. When I caught the ball, I said, "I’ve got to get this ball back to the infield." So I stop. I put on brakes like a car puts on brakes. And as I stop, I’m wheeling. I made a 360-you catch it here, you make a turn, and you end up the same way you caught it at. That’s what I did. And only one guy advanced. I think that was the Series, right there.

_But there are other catches you think were better than The Catch. Another one that comes up is the Ebbets Field catch off Bobby Morgan of the Brooklyn Dodgers. _

Two on, seventh inning. Bobby Morgan pinch-hit. And he hits a ball...line drive over shortstop. I go over. The only way I can catch this ball is catch it and hit the fence all in one motion. I catch the ball and knock myself out. My arm goes into my stomach-knocked me out. And when I came to, I saw two guys. It was Leo and Jackie [Robinson]. I asked Jackie, "What the hell are you doing out here?" So Jackie says, "Well I want to see if you caught the ball."

_It seems like you remember these moments like they were yesterday. _

Easy. It’s no problem because baseball was my life when I played. If I went 0 for 4, I’d go back in my room, my master bedroom, and I used to have those old reel-to-reel tapes. And on one tape was my hitting in 1954, because I hit good in 1954. And I would go back there and I’d look at it. And then I would bring the tape from home and look at that. Now if I changed somewhere along the line, I knew I was out of whack. I had to go back somewhere and pick up that change, batting practice-wise. I would pick it up very quickly. I didn’t have a hitting coach. I didn’t have a running coach. I had nobody. I just did things on my own. I just played. And nobody said anything to me.

_Younger baseball fans might not know that you missed an estimated 270 games when you were called into the army for part of 1952 and all of 1953. _

See, I disagree. I didn’t miss no games. I played every day in the army. I played 90 games [each year] in the army. I hit 40 home runs every year, or 45. I was stronger when I got out of the service.

_There’s a story in there that it was in the army where you learned the basket catch. _

I created that. I had to do something. I said to myself, "I’m going back in two years; what can I do to make people understand this is a new game?" I wanted to find out if I could do something different to get rid of the ball quicker. And I did it in the service and I found out that I could get rid of the ball quicker if I’d catch it here [makes a basket at his waist]. If I catch it here, it’s like a whirlwind. You catch it and you continue throwing. I said, "So, this is something new." When I got out of the service, Leo only said one word. "You can catch it that way, but don’t miss it." That’s all he said. I missed two balls-ten years apart. I missed one in Pittsburgh and one in the Polo Grounds. Cost me four thousand dollars.

_You were fined? _

Yeah. I was fined. But he gave it back to me in a contract after the season.

_As you were playing in the Major Leagues, television started to become a bigger and bigger factor in Major League Baseball. They no longer had to go to the stadiums to see games. Were you much aware of the fact that the impact that TV was having on the game? _

We only had what they called the game of the day. We televised the games at home...not on the road. Today, if you do something on TV right now, you’re all over the world in five minutes. We didn’t have that. No, we didn’t have that luxury.

_Have you watched what you can of your career on television? Have you ever gone back and watched key moments? _

For what?

_Just to see yourself play. _

I don’t like to look at me. I can’t go back and play any more. I did everything I could possibly do. I did whatever I wanted to do. My goal was to be in the top five in everything. Not just home runs or running and things like that. Stealing bases: I led the league in stolen bases four times in a row, and I quit. I said, "That’s enough." I should be in the top five in that. So I stopped running. Only if we needed a run, I would steal a base. It’s really not that important that I see myself. I don’t like to look at myself on TV. I see it all the time and I turn away from it and go somewhere else. I don’t look at it.

_I want to ask you about playing stickball in New York. Did it help you as a major league hitter to play stickball? _

Yes. [We played] on my block on 155th Street and St. Nicholas Place [in Harlem] My apartment, which the Giants found for me when I first got to New York, was right on the ground floor. Every morning, kids would knock on my window. Time to get up. I had to go out and play with them before I went to the ballpark in the morning. Then, in the afternoon, I would sleep a little bit and they would knock on my door. So I would come out and play with them at four to around five. There were no losers. We had a car for first base, a car for second base, and then a building for third base. If you hit it over the building, you were out. Everybody that played with me and played in that area went to a drug store on the corner. I bought everybody ice cream. It was a joy to have all the kids come around at that time.

_Could anyone who was on the street that day come and play stickball with Willie Mays if they wanted to? _

Yes. There was a building across the street that had a lot of kids in it. Wilt Chamberlain lived down the block from me. He had these big old hound dogs and things. Down the street there was Dizzy Gillespie. Duke Ellington. That was a pretty good hill. You asked me if stickball helped me. Yes -- because we had to bounce [the rubber ball]. Some of the guys would make the ball go this way [makes a motion of a ball going outside] Sometimes they would make it go inside. I could see it. And going to the ballpark, they couldn’t make it do that all the time. They could only make it go one way at a time. But these guys, that I played stickball with, they made it go both ways.

_When the Giants moved to San Francisco in 1958, how hard a moment was that? Was it difficult to pack up and move from New York? _

I think so. I didn’t really understand why. I’m just starting in baseball again. Just came out of the army. Now, I’ve got to move again. I’ve got to go out there, find a house, I don’t know the people; they don’t know me. All they know about is what they read in the paper.

_There are good stories in the book about Seals Stadium and the creation of Candlestick Park. There’s a great quote in there from Ozzie Smith where he says... _

Ozzie Smith? The shortstop?

_Yes. Ozzie said, "I never really knew how great Willie Mays was until I played in Candlestick Park. My God...what would have happened if he played in a real ballpark?" It sounded as if every game was an adventure at Candlestick. _

Eh, it wasn’t that big of a deal. People could never play there. I could play. I could play center field there because I knew how the wind would swirl around. But it was cold every night. Very cold. I used this hot stuff, I put it on my body twice a game. The other team had to do to the same thing. A lot of guys didn’t want to play there-visiting guys, I’m talking about. Their stars didn’t want to play.

_You have made the Bay Area your home for a long time. but do you feel like like you still consider New York a home, too? _

Well, it’s a combination. When I was traded back to New York [to the Mets in 1972], it was like going back home. I still have an apartment there, in Riverdale [a section of the Bronx]. I still go there a lot. But this is my home, now. New York is a place that I enjoy going to. I have a lot of friends there.

_While on the Mets, you made the decision retire in 1973. How difficult was that? _

People started saying I should quit. I wanted to play as long as I felt that I could contribute. A lot of people felt that when you’re 40, you should be out. Today they’re playing until 45 - nobody says nothing. So I was disappointed to hear [the retirement suggestions]. I hit twelve or fifteen home runs runs [Mays hit 14 homers with the Mets], but that wasn’t Willie Mays. I played the year out in ’72, and I said, "Maybe I should quit [in] ’73." And [Mets owner] Mrs. [Joan Whitney] Payson wouldn’t let me quit. My bags were ready to go. I was ready to go home, because I wasn’t playing. I helped all the guys play. Whatever they wanted to know, I would tell them. But it wasn’t the same-going to the ballpark and not being able to play and hurting all the time. My body never hurts. So I said, "It’s time to quit." So she called me and said, "No, no. You can’t quit. The guys want you here. You don’t have to play a lick. Whatever you want to do, you do it." I unpacked my clothes and I went there every day. I enjoyed it because it was fun to see the guys winning. [The Mets reached the World Series in 1973]

_When you think of the scope of your career, when were you happiest? _

On the field. On the field. Between those lines, I was more happy because I could do things. I was in control of me. I could control the game. People said, "Well, he can’t control the game." I could control the game.

_What do you mean by that? _

Meaning that...Wherever I want this guy to play I put him here. I put the infielders this way, that way, all kinds of ways. I controlled the game. When I quit, you don’t have those luxuries. You can tell a guy what to do, but you’re not on the field. When you’re on the field, they’re all looking to you for advice. I would tell them, "This is where you play. Stay there." They’d say, "Well, why?" "Don’t give me no shit about why...just stay there". On the field, I had so many friends -- and they listened.

_Here’s a relatively recent piece of history-your trip on Air Force One with President Obama to the 2009 All Star Game. There’s a video of a conversation that you had with the President where the President thanked you, personally, for helping pave his way to the White House. _

When I first came up, we couldn’t stay with the club. The President knew all that. He knew that it was so hard when Jackie came in in ’47. He was aware of a lot of things that I wasn’t aware that he knew about. What he was saying was, "All the things you went through made it possible for me to be president." I’m not in politics, but I thought it was a good feeling to hear him say that. The night that it was announced that he was president, I stayed up all night watching because I never felt that, in my lifetime, that we would see an African-American be in the White House. I told him that.

_I know you prefer to let other people make these kind of observations about you, but by the time you decided to retire, you had amassed twenty-four All Star Games, two MVPs, a World Series title, 660 home runs, a lifetime average of .302, 3280 hits.... _

3,283.

_3283. I’m sorry. Anyway, there are many, many people who say that you were the best to play the game. Does that kind of statement make you uncomfortable? _

No, no. But you don’t see that on TV. You don’t hear somebody saying, "He’s the best." You hear it every now and then. But If you’ve watched TV in the last three or four years, they sidestep that.

_They do? _

They sidestep it and I don’t understand why. They’ll go to basketball and say, "Michael is the best in basketball." And they’ve got Ali in boxing. Tiger is the best in golf. But what happened to baseball? You understand what I’m saying?

_I do. _

If I’m the best, go and tell them.

Willie Mays, The Life, The Legend