The Press of Atlantic City - October 23, 1980
Phillies Fans Turn The Town Around
From Our Wire Services
PHILADELPHIA — Hundreds of thousands of Phillies fans Wednesday gave their baseball World Series champions the biggest reception the ball club has seen in its 97- year history during a tickertape parade through the city.
The parade capped the night-long festivities that rattled William Penn's statue atop City Hall and saw one woman kiss every helmeted policeman she could find while a man ran down Broad Street clad in a Phillies cap and nothing else.
"It was like VJ Day, the Fourth of July and New Years all wrapped up in one," said city resident Arnold Sommers, an avid supporter of the team known affectionately in town as the "Cardiac Kids" because of their come-from-behind victories. "Finally, we are number one."
"We prayed our heads off," said Sister Joan Marie, a 78-year-old retired nun who watched the game on television at McAuley Convent in nearby Bala Cynwyd. "The Phillies are beautiful."
The huge parade, which included 11 flatbed trucks to carry the players, their families, team officials and journalists, slowly moved along Market Street and then three miles down Broad Street to John F. Kennedy Stadium, where up to 100,000 more people patiently waited.
Police estimated at least 750,000 people, many of them playing hookey from school or work, were out in the streets or in the stadium to cheer their team's victory over the Kansas City Royals.
No serious incidents were reported, police said.
Phillies' owner Ruly Carpenter, general manager Paul Owens and manager Dallas Green headed the contingent of players, coaches and club officials riding on flatbed trucks.
A high school band led the parade, which rivaled the celebration accorded the Philadelphia Flyers in 1974, when they won the National Hockey League's Stanley Cup.
Banks were closed, and many schools also must have given pupils the day off, or there were a lot of truants, as the crowd predominantly featured the young.
It was the first World Series victory for the Phillies since 1893 when the club was formed.
Along the parade route, wildly screaming fans stood 20 deep to catch a glimpse of their favorite baseball players as they rode by on the big trailers.
The most popular was Tug McGraw, the relief pitcher who, many times in both the National League Playoffs and the World Series, sauntered in to disrupt an opposing rally. It was McGraw who got the last out of the final game Tuesday night, when Kansas City's Willie Wilson went down swinging with the bases loaded and the Phillies leading 4-1.
The fans took pictures. 'Fathers hoisted little children on their shoulders. Intersections were blocked. Workers on scaffolds of unfinished buildings tipped their hard hats for a job well done.
Huge banners spread from tall office buildings along the parade route honored, McGraw, You can Tug proclaiming: on me Anytime!"
Other signs praising the pitcher included one supporting "McGraw for President" and exalting him as "King Tug." The even renamed the City of Brotherly Love as "Tugadelphia."
The stadium crowd cheered as Gov. Dick Thornburgh and Mayor Bill Green honored the Phillies, but the constant refrain was, "We want Tug."
When McGraw was introduced, he received a 25-second standing ovation.
The fiery McGraw roused the crowd at the stadium saying, "All through baseball history, Philadelphia had to take a back seat to New York City. But New York City can take their world championship and stick it, because we're number one."
The crowd roared.
Shortstop Larry Bowa, who was quoted at the end of the season as saying Philadelphia fans were the worst he had seen, had nothing but praise for those lining the parade route Wednesday.
"This is probably the greatest moment in all my life," he said. "I'm glad to share it with the greatest fans in baseball."
Mike Schmidt, the Phillies third baseman and the series' most valuable player, said, "I never saw so sincere faces as I saw in that parade. Take this world championship savor it because you all deserve it."
During the parade, a mass of humans stood on mail boxes, clung to the tops of traffic lights, and shouted "Phill-ies! Phill-ies! Phill-ies!" or "We're number one!"
Linda Kuonen, 17, of Philadelphia, said she arrived at the stadium at 9 a.m. and had been up all night celebrating. "I don't know of a single kid who went to school today," she said.
Dressed like a majorette, Catherine Towner, 58, strutted down the length of Broad Street twirling a baton. Asked why she was doing it, she said, "because I love the Phillies."
At the stadium, several other players spoke.
Pete Rose, who came to the Phillies two years ago from the Cincinnati Reds, told the cheering crowd, "I've been in the Series five times, but there is no doubt in my mind you people are the greatest."
Mike Schmidt, voted the most valuable player in the Series, said he never saw so many sincere people as he did in the parade.
"Take this championship and savor it, because you deserve it," Schmidt said.
It Was Long Time Coming, But Phils Shake ‘Choke’ Rap
By Pete Wickham, Press Sports Writer
PHILADELPHIA — "Hey Dallas!" Keith Moreland shouted across the playground that hours earlier had been the Philadelphia Phillies' lockerroom. "This game's too easy! There's no more challenge. I'm going across the hall and play for the Eagles and win me a Super Bowl. It's been nice, but..."
"Nice, hell," Phils' Manager Dallas Green said, as he approached his rookie catcher, who once played linebacker at the University of Texas. "Go ahead, and good luck, but with that body the only thing you're good for is baseball. And why would you want to play football anyway, especially now that we're... World… Bleeping... Champions!"
At that point, Moreland leaped into his boss' arms like a youngster whose father had just come home from a long business trip. One which had lasted light years to the champagne-doused souls in the pinstriped suits, who finally brought a World Series title to this long-suffering city Tuesday, by knocking off the Kansas City Royals.
"We had a lot of ghosts to put away tonight, but that's what carried us, said Green, the taskmaster sent down from the front office last year to break up the season-long card game this club had become.
"There are a lot of guys who I made miserable, but I told them we could win and damn if they didn't prove it. We had some sinking spells and there were several nights I was crying in my beer. But we came back fighting, and brought a lot of people something they've waited for an awful long time.”
The seeds of Tuesday's 4-1, sixth-game victory were sown in the wandering of June and July, the locker room battles in August and the incredible two-month roll that carried the club to the goal, and the attitude, many said they could never attain.
On Monday, after rallying for a 4-3 nail-biter in Sunday's fifth game, the Phils still dragged themselves out for one more day of batting practice, one more workout.
"I think they're starting to like it," Green cracked. But Pete Rose knew better.
"This club learned how to get ready for a big series, or a big game," Rose said. "They learned how to prepare and attack. I don't even think it knew how it was done earlier this summer."
Off on his own, Steve Carlton was gearing it up one more time.
A certain Cy Young Award winner, Carlton had won 24 games, and held on for a win in the playoffs and the Series despite a slider that was shot from 324 innings already logged.
Green had bought him an extra day's rest by using Marty Bystrom Sunday, however, and Tuesday he was ready for one more try.
"My first premonition that we would do well came when Lefty finished his and gave me the thumbs-up sign," Green said. "He only does that when he's ready."
Carlton was not overpowering, but he was smart. Instead of trying to push through a slider that was less than sharp against the disciplined Royals hitters, Carlton just relied on fast balls to get him out of trouble.
"He discovered that the KC hitters were a little bit more patient than he expected, and therefore he went after them more," said Green. "That's the sign of a quality pitcher, who understands what he can and can't do in a situation."
So did Mike Schmidt, who broke out of a horrible slump in the playoffs to hit .389 with two homers and seven RBI in the Series, good for MVP honors.
His final two RBI came in the third, and propelled the Phils to the clincher. But they came because Mike Schmidt eschewed the idea of going for the fences against Royals' starter Rich Gale, and instead poked a line drive to the opposite field for a base bit.
"In the Houston series, maybe I was trying to do too much," he said. "I don't think it was the selfishness, more adrenalin getting a little too high, and being a home run hitter I tried to put the whole team on my shoulders. But the Good Lord let me see the mistake in time. The hit was bigger than any home run, but all I did was try to relax and put in play like I should."
The Phils scratched out two more runs on guile as Lonnie Smith, who stumbled on Schmidt's single and only scored on a mistake, singled to center and kept going for a double to set up one run. Then Larry Bowa followed up a Phils' double play with a double and he scored on a single by Bob Boone, who hit poorly during the season, but redeemed himself against the Royals.
"I'm not saying this is a great team or a dynasty," said Bowa, whose own emotions and moods have ridden a roller coaster too big for any amusement park to copy. "Unlike other years we caught a few breaks, a base on balls, an error or a scratch hit, and we capitalized on every one of them. "Really, however, that's discipline and I have to say Dallas taught us that," said Bowa, who battled with verbally a week before the playoffs. "He taught us how to focus our priorities, which we hadn't been able to do before. That, and he handled our pitching staff the way no one could."
Green's final move came in the seventh, after Carlton, who had pitched a three-hit shutout up to that point, allowed men on first and second with nobody out.
"Steve was feathering his fast ball," Green said. "He had gone with it a little more, but he was able to be a power pitcher again with the extra rest. I knew, though, it was time.”
The 36-year-old McGraw has been to more fires than an arsonist of late, and there was much speculation in the press box that maybe Green had gone to Scroogie once too often. Especially after he loaded the bases, allowed a run on a sacrifice fly and loaded the sacks again before retiring them in the eighth.
"Garry Maddox told me he thought Tug was going for the save," Green said with a giggle that would register six on the Richter scale. "I just went over to him and told him not to make it too exciting. And as usual he heeded my advice. Just like the rest of them did all year."
By the ninth inning even the possessed McGraw felt like his arm was ready to be repossessed.
At that point, it seemed like the bubble might burst right there. Frank White hit a pop foul which Bob Boone had, and lost.
A dozen writers geared up for another "Phillies' bite the big red apple" story, but miraculously Rose had floated by and neatly grabbed the loose ball in time for the out. An out which probably justified his whole $3.2 million contract.
Then Willie Wilson came to the plate and McGraw took over once more, blowing one final fast ball home for a strikeout, and the moment this city waited for.
He said he got his inspiration from watching the armada of police take the field in an attempt to keep that city at bay.
"I saw the dogs come out and said to myself that I wasn't going to be a dog," he said. "Then I thought of the K-9 corps and said I needed a K. I just reared back and gave it one more shot at Wilson. If I hadn't gotten Wilson out, I would've told Dallas that I was through.”
Bowa said he won't forget this moment, especially because of a lot of other moments that came before.
"All I know is that we're World Champions. Nobody can say anything different until next year. There are a lot of scars from getting here. All the way back to when I was five and they told me I was too small to play Little League ball, all the way to the stories written about me that just weren't true. And especially all those people who told us we were choke artists. They can't say that any more."
After The Life Tug McGraw Had, You Can See Why He’s ‘Unique’
By Pete Wickham, Press Sports Writer
PHILADELPHIA — It was a family scene Norman Rockwell could never sell. It predated Kramer vs. Kramer by 30 years, but Dustin Hoffman wouldn't touch the lead.
That doesn't bother Frank McGraw, Sr., his eldest son Hank and middle son Frank, Jr. (whom you know as Tug). The three held a rather unique family reunion the past few weeks.
Phillies fans will only remember the fact that Tug, the consummate off-kilter lefthander, helped them banish 97 years of frustration with a World Series championship.
The 36-year-old leprechaun - who names pitches after his favorite libations and who uses them, his wit and his almost manic energy to a keep teammates and opponents slightly ajar - roared, twitched and tricked his way into seven wins and nine crucial saves as the Phils got by the Montreal Expos, Houston Astros and Kansas City Royals for the crown.
Among those cheering was 70-year-old Frank, Sr., a roistering type who raised three sons on his own and still managed to have a good time. And big brother Hank, a 13-year minor leaguer in the Mets and Phillies organizations who makes Zonker Harris look like a stock broker.
"They decided to come out long before we got into the playoffs," Tug said following the Series finale Tuesday. "The only thing I worried about was there would be no playoffs by the time they got there. But now my Dad has to be the happiest character in the world right now and I can't describe to you how that makes me feel."
Frank and Hank had a good time before they reached Philly. "
We drove about 9½ days from California," said Hank, who showed off waistlength hair, a walrus mustache and a blue star in his right ear each night as he took outfield practice with the Phils. "Yellowstone, Sun Valley, Idaho, Cody, Wyoming, the Little Big Horn... we hit 'em all.
"We didn't know what was happening until we got to St. Louis and heard the game where they dropped a doubleheader to fall two games out," added the 38-yearold manager of a Sonoma County (Calif.) softball team called the Panama Red Sox. "But by the time we got within striking distance, we heard they were only a halfgame out, and the adrenalin pumped us all the way here."
It was not quite the way Bowie Kuhn wanted to advertise his family game' during the World Series. Yet the values that keep them close are as American as straight brownies.
“I don't think you could call this a typical American family," said Frank, Sr. "It certainly wasn't normal. But Tug, and Hank and Denny (34, who studied psychology and worked the pipeline in Alaska, lived in Haight Ashbury and now goes his own way in central California) were good kids, and they turned into really fine people, who know how to live. That's what makes me so happy.”
The elder McGraw wasn't so sure what would happen 28 years ago when his wife left home and left him with the three boys.
"She just walked out," he said of his wife, whom he preferred not to name. "For the first four or five months, I didn't know how we'd handle it. But we settled into a routine and got along just fine."
If you can call the graveyard shift as a water treatment engineer for the city of Vallejo, Calif., super. But the elder McGraw stayed on the 12-8 shift so he could get the boys off to school, grab some sleep and get them to their games before he headed back to work.
Hank was the natural athlete. An outfielder-first baseman, he was signed by the Mets out of high school. Denny lettered in football and could've gone on according to his Dad, "but he decided that's not what he wanted to do with his life."
For Tug, however, it was always uphill.
"He was forever fighting to get on the baseball team or the football team," Frank, Sr. said. "That's why he is the way he is right now. Sometimes, though, I think what got him through was that he admired his big brother so much.”
Even though his career has gone farther, Tug still talks of Hank with awe.
"He was a big wheel and could have gone off with the boys if he wanted." said Tug. "But he took the time to give me encouragement, or to just play catch if I wanted to. When he signed with the Mets, he threatened to quit unless they signed me, too."
Tug went on to pitch the Mets to two World Series (driving them to the 1973 title with the now famous slogan 'Ya Gotta Believe!'). Hank, meanwhile, wandered around AAA ball (his only shot at the bigs one season of spring training with the Mets). The 'highlight' was being traded from the Phils' farm club in Eugene by Manager Lou Kahn (now a Phillies scout) because he wouldn't cut his sideburns.
"I got traded to Hawaii where Chuck Tanner was manager," said Hank, now a leather craftsman. "He said, 'I wanted Hank McGraw, and as far as I know there are no barber shops on the islands.” We also won the (Pacific Coast League) title that year, and I got a ring that was even bigger than Tug's Series ring. To tell you the truth he was envious.
"He's having success now, but earlier in our lives I was the one with the success. It all balances out.”
Hank said the only time his father got mad at the boys, "was when we somehow made him late for work by keeping the car out too late or whatever. But he let us be ourselves."
"I taught them a lot of what they know," said the elder McGraw, who shares Tug's fondness for Irish whiskey. "I figure if they're going to do something, it's better I know about it rather than they do it behind my back."
Hank remembers Tug's first blowout. "He told Dad he wanted to really let loose after winning a junior college tournament. Dad said just to do it at home," he said. "Tug and two of his friends got there and on the kitchen table was a bottle of Irish whiskey. When Dad got home they were passed out, but he knew they were safe.”
And Tug's patient wife Phyllis said her house is still standing.
"The only real problem is that the TV is always going with some sports events," she said. "And every morning they go out and buy every paper they can to read about the Series. They've got to start clipping soon or we'll have no room.”
‘Amazed’ Fourth-Graders Succumb to Phillies Fever
By John Froonjian, Press Staff Writer
OCEAN TOWNSHIP - Phillies Fever, which apparently went beyond Philadelphia city limits after an explosive World Series, found its way into a Waretown fourth grade classroom Wednesday.
In a situation probably repeated all over South Jersey, the students in Lorraine Price's class could barely contain their enthusiasm over the "Cardiac Kids" Tuesday night victory. Price decided to channel that energy into a constructive project and had the fourth-graders put down their emotions in the form of poems and essays.
The results won't make literary history, but the Waretown Elementary School students captured the excitement felt by Philadelphia baseball fans of all ages Wednesday.
Student Dawn Pawliski chronicled the series' climax in a poem simply entitled "Phillies.”
"They started out with a very big test. And now they're the best in all the west. Coming from behind, they were always on (my) mind. A more exciting game you cannot find."
Many of the students went hogwild, heaping lavish praise upon their team. One anonymous poem that was typical proclaimed: "The Phillies - hooray! Let's hear it, O.K. He's the most, he's the greatest. He's Mike Schmidt and now he's N M.V.P. Hooray!"
Deana Petrillo was apparently so overjoyed by the Phillies's victory that she had trouble finding the words to describe her feelings. Her overall point, however, was obvious.
"The Phillies are my favorite team, Even though one bursts with steam. Team, steam, whatever you mean. Sometimes you win, maybe even lose, But they are my best team, God knows."
Stacy Ziemba felt compelled to go through nearly the whole line-up in her love note to the Phils. Apparently afraid to leave anyone out, she praised Steve Carlton's pitching, Pete Rose's fielding, Manny Trillo's hitting and Mike Schmidt's slide into home.
"They all played a good game," she concluded.
But it was student John Silver who was able to capture the essence of what Phillies fans are feeling in a succinctly simple essay.
"Phillies are number 1. 'The Phillies are better than the Royals," he wrote. "I am amazed."
KC’s Homecoming Was Also Royal
KANSAS CITY, Mo. (AP) — The Kansas City Royals arrived home today to a snowstorm of ticker tape and thousands of fans who remained optimistic despite the team's loss in the World Series.
The largest crowds for the noon hour parade were in the heart of downtown, where windows in tall buildings were opened and workers dropped handfuls of shredded paper as the players passed below in convertibles.
"They should feel real good. They are really great," said Lauraeen Franklin, who works in one of the downtown office buildings.
Debbie Payne, an office worker, squealed with delight when Royals third baseman George Brett rode by on a horse. She said she wasn't disappointed at the 4-1 loss to Philadelphia Tuesday night. "No way. They did great."
As the parade passed under a pedestrian walkway, outfielder Jose Cardenal looked up, saw a sign, smiled and held up his finger in a No. 1 sign. The sign said, "KC Royals are Still Number One in KC."
The team was greeted earlier by a small crowd of enthusiastic fans as the players arrived at the airport.
"I'm relieved," said catcher Darrell Porter. "It's great to be back home. I'm pretty happy with the way the season has gone."
Porter said the champion Philadelphia Phillies, who ended Kansas City's World Series hopes with a 4-1 victory Tuesday night, were an extremely tough opponent.
"They kind of shocked us… It was a good ball game both ways - they just got the breaks, that's all," he said.
About 150 die-hard fans greeted the team at the Trans World Airlines cargo gate at Kansas City International Airport, despite efforts by the team to keep the arrival private. A ticker-tape parade through downtown Kansas City and a rally were planned for later in the day.
Outfielder Amos Otis said Philadelphia was an inhospitable city in which to play. "I'm relieved to be out of there.”
Otis continued: "They got everything they needed to win. You can't do anything about that."
Fans who greeted the team were upbeat as the Royals filed from their charter flight to buses for the ride downtown.
"I'll tell you one thing," said Peggy Procopio, a city employee who works at the airport. "We're not gonna have to wait 98 years for a world championship in Kansas City."
R.E. Campbell, an airport security guard, also was optimistic.
"I don't look at the Royals as losing. They didn't come back empty handed. They brought this town something it never had before," he said.
Editorial: Congratulations, Phils
It's no wonder they call them the "comeback kids." Throughout the entire baseball season the Philadelphia Phillies have fought back with dogged determination, never stopping until they finally copped baseball's biggest prize - the world championship.
By demonstrating the kind of tenacity it takes to be a winner, the Phils have helped to illustrate the importance of "hanging in" when the going gets tough, offering us all a little refresher course in how to meet life's challenges with a never-say-die spirit and a "can win" attitude.
And the Kansas City Royals, even in losing, displayed a consistent brand of courage that marked them as winners in a losing cause.
It was one of the most exciting World Series ever. But somebody had to win, and somebody had to lose. We're glad the Phils won.
Psychic Shows Strength of His Unusual Powers
By Mary Duran
It came out of hiding Wednesday morning: the metal box I had had in my possession since Oct. 13.
Inside: three envelopes, the first, signed and dated by myself, containing a smaller one, that one holding the third which held Ted Karmalovich' prediction of the outcome of the World Series.
For nine days I had kept, the box hidden. Karmalovich had the key.
The series was over. The Phillies had won. In the presence of a Press photographer, that third envelope was torn open and a sheet of note paper was removed. Had Karmalovich predicted the scores accurately?
Karmilovich had come into the office Tuesday last week, ready and willing to demonstrate his unusual psychic powers. In front of witnesses and skeptics, he correctly guessed numbers we had written on slips of papers. He amazed us by bending our coins, held snugly in our hands, and by bending keys and spoons by "transferring energy.”
Karmilovich had told the little group that he could make watches run backward, that with park officials present he had stopped the ferris wheel at Great Adventure and, given the proper circumstances, will bring Atlantic City's Sky Tower to a halt in, mid-air.
The skeptics searched for logical explanations. Believers said there are none. And some who were neither skeptics nor believers, the category in which I place myself, hinted that only if they saw, would they believe.
Karmilovich is a slot machine cashier at Resorts International. A resident of Howell Township, he makes the drive to Atlantic City each day. He's on the 12 to 8 a.m. shift and he was weary Wednesday when he arrived. at the Press after an eight-hour stint. Garbed in casino-required business suit and dark tie, he looked more like a bookkeeper than a psychic about to perform "miracles.”
"It was the coin thing that I have trouble believing," I remarked, a bit embarrassed that I had doubts about his "powers." On our first meeting, Karmilovich had said he was able to make coins pass through a table top, a claim the skeptics couldn't accept. His attempt last week had failed miserably. He was "tired" he alibied then, drained of psychic energy.
So Wednesday see gave it another try. We put some coins on a table, four of them. He asked for my key ring, removed a key, (my car trunk key), placed it on the table with the coins, then also added the key ring which had five keys still attached.
Under the table at the point where the keys and coins lay, he placed his hand, palm up, with my hand on top of his, palm up. The room seemed intense with concentration. And simply, like night follows day, a key one which was on the key ring (!) fell through the table top into my palm. Later a coin unexpectedly fell through to the floor. Another coin was missing for a time and Karmilovich explained, "Sometimes it continues.”
But back the Phillies. They proved they were champions Tuesday. Could Karmilovich confirm that the results he had "seen" before the series match the actual scores?
We checked the figures be had written on the slip of paper inside the third envelope.
Game one: Philadelphia over Kansas City, 7-6, correct. Game two: Philadelphia over Kansas City, 6-4, correct. Game three: Kansas City over Philadelphia, 4-3, correct. Game four: Kansas City over Philadelphia 4-3 - whoops. Kansas City scored five, not four, to win this one. Game six: Philadelphia over Kansas City 4-1 - who could forget?
Now for the other "facts" which Karmilovich "saw." He believed game four would be rained out. It wasn't, although it did rain Saturday in South Jersey. He predicted game three would go 10 innings - it did. He also said Carlton would win the final game and he did, (almost logic, here), believe and that Mike Schmidt would be named most valuable player. (Logic again could account for that last one.)
Amazingly Karmilovich called the six games correctly, erring only on one run.
Although his sensory, perception sometimes reaches clairvoyance, Karmilovich' goal as psychic is to entertain through demonstration. One of the first steps to that end is his appearance television's "Kids Are People Too" on Dec. 21.
Karmilovich at 21 is at the beginning of his career in psychic phenomena. As his technique improves, his psychic powers will strengthen. Take levitation for one example. Under ideal circumstances, Karmilovich claims he is able to "lift" his body five inches from the floor. And so with science writer Joe Donahue and me present, we "concentrated" and watched Karmilovich' feet as he willed his body to rise. And, yup, it did all right - straight up. Unfortunately, he was able to raise himself only one disappointing inch. We sympathized, certain a lift of five inches will be - possible in the future, given more - practice.
At some point you begin to believe everything.