Saturday, January 8, 2011

Ryne Duren: Throw One Over St. Peter's Head

Once upon a time, the Yankees had a relief pitcher who was scarier than the Rockets, the Mad Hungarians, the Wild Things and even the black-bearded types named after members of the Beach Boys. His name was Ryne Duren, and -- as you can see -- he looked like a tax accountant whose wife just ran off with the gym teacher.

He wasn't that good. Truth be told, I remember him getting hammered. By the time his career ended, his name caused a twitch in my neck that I now associate with Colter Bean. (This is, in part, due to the fact that he was old, on the way out, when I took up my childhood Yankee addiction.)

Well, by now, you figured out that Ryne Duren died yesterday. Another memory... gone.

But figure this: The story goes that Duren would come in from the bullpen and always fire a warm up pitch high over the catcher's head, intimidating the batters who awaited him. That story must be 60 years old, and that concept has probably been used a million times... but I've only heard it linked to one pitcher: Rhyne Duren. Not the Rockets, not the Hungarians, not even the Wild Things. Ryne Duren.

Rest in peace, Mr. Pop Bottle Bottoms.

And by the way... Long ago, sir, you were absolved of all crimes against the Yankees. The statute of limitations on Colter Beanery does indeed run out.

Maybe there is hope for us all.

3 comments:

alphonso is right said...

I knew Rhyne Duren.

I was a whippersnapper Yankee fan when he was in his glory, which you aptly described.

I saw him pitch a lot.

What you failed to mention, and perhaps did not know, is that Rhyne, like me, loved the sauce. Only, unlike me, Rhyne liked to imbibe while on the job. (My source is Mel Allen, who also liked the sauce).

After all, there were many days he was in uniform but was never called upon to pitch. Starters often went nine innings in his day.

So Rhyne would consult with his flask. And on many days, that first "warning pitch " was a combination of strategy ( intimidation ), his coke bottle glasses gooed over ( he couldn't see for shit ), and a rosy, devil-may-care view of the day ( drunk).

Bless you, Rhyne. say hello to Billy for us.

Toots Shor said...

hey, what's with you guys? Get your heads out of your flasks and spell
Ryne's name correctly.

jeff said...

I read a story somewhere that while Ryne was pitching for the Washington Senators the Saint Gil Hodges had to be called to talk him out of jumping off a bridge. It's commendable that he picked himself out of those depths and went on to lead an exceedingly useful and productive life.
I would correct Mr. Alphonso in that Billy Martin is not "up there" but rather in a different direction