Tales of baseball, then and now

FALLS VILLAGE — Steve Blass was in town Saturday to catch up with old friends and promote his book, “Steve Blass: A Pirate for Life.”But he couldn’t resist some commentary about the baseball playoffs — especially the Washington Nationals, who put their star pitcher, Stephen Strasburg, on the shelf for the playoffs.The Nationals, who won the National League East for the first time since the franchise moved from Montreal in 2005, decided to limit Strasburg’s total innings pitched for the season after the young phenom underwent shoulder surgery in the off-season.It was a controversial decision. Blass made no bones about where he stood.“Any pitcher as good as [Strasburg] should be given the opportunity to pitch. I love Davey Johnson [the manager of the Nationals, and Blass’ opponent in the 1971 World Series], but I hope they lose bad.”Blass, a Falls Village native who played for the Pittsburgh Pirates and is now a Pirates broadcaster, then segued into his World Series memories.In the 1971 series, Blass pitched against the Baltimore Orioles in games 3 and 7, beating Mike Cuellar both times. In the seventh and deciding game, Blass allowed just one run and scattered four hits against a powerful Baltimore lineup that included Frank and Brooks Robinson, Johnson and Boog Powell.“I won the seventh game of the World Series 30 times — with a rubber ball, throwing against Uncle Bill’s barn,” said Blass. Four decades later, the experience is still “unbelieveable.”“To dream about it for so long, and then do it.”Blass noted that he played on a club with three future members of the Baseball Hall of Fame: Willie Stargell, Bill Mazeroski and Roberto Clemente.He said he considers himself a graduate of “the university of baseball.”He picked up a lot from Mazeroski. “He told me the name on the front of the uniform is more important than the name on the back. You can’t buy that kind of stuff.”He was a little awed by Clemente, “but when I finally got good enough to talk to him,” Blass told the legendary outfielder that if they ever faced each other, Blass would pitch him inside.Clemente said, “You pitch me inside, I’ll hit the ball to Harrisburg!”Blass said he has refined his broadcasting craft. “As an analyst — I don’t like that word, there are a lot of people who know much more than me — the play-by-play guy gives you a little space. You make your point and get out.”He said his baseball memoir is different than others of the genre. His book begins with “what I call the abyss.”In 1972, suddenly, Blass lost his control. There was no injury to blame. He was mystified, and dismayed.The first chapter is titled “They Named a Disease After Me.” Blass wrote, “Less than a year after finishing off the mighty Baltimore Orioles with my second complete game of the 1971 World Series, I was lost as a pitcher.“Now I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go out there. I had always lived a life of anticipation. I have always been excited about the next adventure, the next movie, the next ballgame or the next experience. Now that anticipation, which was always a big part of my life, was being taken away from me.”Blass said he thought that starting off with his fall “makes the book buyable.”He remembered his years playing at Housatonic Valley Regional High School for coach Ed Kirby. “He was tough on me. I hated him for the first two years … no, three … let’s see, I graduated in four years … three and a half?”He credited Kirby’s coaching with toughening him up and getting him ready for playing professionally.Blass said that while at Housatonic, the team played maybe 15 games a year, but when he got to the rookie league (in Kingsport, Tenn.), he was pitted against players from Southern California and Arizona who were used to playing 45 games a year.Of 40 rookies signed by the Pirates in 1960, four were left in 1962.“That’s how rare the air gets even at rookie ball, the bottom rung.”Blass made his remarks under a tent in the parking lot of the D.M. Hunt Library to a crowd of about 50 people, most clutching copies of the book for signing after the talk.