The Other Man on That Mound

There were two careers on that mound at Municipal Stadium, and only one of them gets talked about.

Gil McDougald was 29, a former Rookie of the Year who had already won four World Series and could play second, third, and short at a level almost nobody else could match. He described the moment plainly years later: he heard the ball hit Score, he froze, and somebody had to yell at him to run to first. Stengel's response was that he was getting paid to play. McDougald hit .289 the rest of that season, then never touched .270 again, and walked away at 32 with expansion teams still calling. He said it was the travel and the front office. He said it a lot, for the rest of his life.

What he did instead of talking about it was write to Herb Score. Call him. Trade holiday cards. Visit Score's mother regularly for the rest of her life after she reached out to tell him it was nobody's fault. And there is one more thing almost nobody knows: two years earlier, a Bob Cerv liner in batting practice caught McDougald flush in the ear and eventually took the hearing on that side, then the other. Both men were hurt by a batted ball. Both men spent decades insisting it had not changed anything. Neither one was especially convincing.