T.R.'s Memoirs: How Major League Baseball came to Arlington. Part III: The Rangers are born
The pieces finally come together for Mayor Tom Vandergriff as things fall apart for the Washington Senators
Editor’s note: T.R. Sullivan, who covered the Rangers longer than any other writer, finishes his three-part memoir on how Major League Baseball came to Arlington. Links to Part I and Part II can be found at the end of this story.
Nolan Ryan should have been the Rangers’ Opening Day pitcher in 1972. That’s right, in 1972.
Of course, the Rangers also should have won their first World Series in 1972. The first of three in a row or maybe more with Reggie Jackson wearing the Texas uniform. That is, unless the Rangers were playing in the National League and enjoying a cross-state rivalry with the Astros.
Instead, 1972 is simply remembered for being the Rangers’ first season in Arlington and the year in which they lost 100 games. They would have been much better off with Ryan in the rotation.
All that would have taken with owner Bob Short saying yes to a proposal from the Mets, who really needed a third baseman. Ryan was still an unproven young right-hander in 1970, when the Mets offered him to the Senators for front-line third baseman Ken McMullen.
But Short said no and Ryan ended up with the Angels when the Mets decided Jim Fregosi would be their answer at third base.
Ryan and Jackson in Texas seems a stretch but no more so than the very real possibility of Mickey Mantle finishing his career with the Kansas City Royals. Yes, the Royals were serious about selecting Mantle in the 1969 expansion draft until told not to by the American League.
If all of this seems crazy, well, so was Athletics owner Charlie Finley, who was a key figure in the events that finally led to Major League Baseball coming to North Texas.
Above all, though, there was Arlington Mayor Tom Vandergriff. He is the single most important reason why the Rangers are in Arlington. Maybe the only reason. Certainly, Dallas-Fort Worth was destined to get a major-league team at some point. The Metroplex was far too big to ignore forever.
But Vandergriff’s relentless determination to bring baseball to North Texas … well there is really no other man in the history of baseball who was so driven for so long and willing to fight through all the many roadblocks put up along the way.
Senators? That’s nothing. Vandergriff defied two presidents: Lyndon Johnson, who believed Texas should be sole property of the Astros, and Richard Nixon, who was adamant that the Washington Senators weren’t going anywhere.
If there was a team that was even remotely thinking of moving, Vandergriff knew about it and was immediately on the phone — whether it be the original Senators, White Sox, Indians, didn’t matter.
Finley and the mayor
But in the early 1960s, Vandergriff honed his efforts in on the Kansas City Athletics as Finley was alienating an entire city. Finley had bought the team in 1960 after Athletics owner Arnold Johnson passed away. Finley, whose insurance business headquarters were in Chicago, had no use for Kansas City and antiquated Municipal Stadium.
As early as 1962, Finley and Vandergriff were talking about the Athletics moving to Arlington. The problem was the Athletics had a lease with Municipal Stadium and Arlington still didn’t have a major-league facility. Other owners also weren’t eager to assist Finley, who made himself a pain almost from the beginning with his loud voice, obnoxious personality and outlandish ideas.
The Athletics’ lease ended in 1963. An outgoing city council approved a new four-year deal, but the new council refused to honor it. Finley reacted angrily by signing a lease to play at the Louisville Fairgrounds. He forgot to tell the American League, though, and they just as angrily denied him permission.
Finley threatened to sue but was in danger of totally alienating himself from the other owners. Without their permission, Finley was helpless. He worked out a new four-year contract with Kansas City but with the provision he could explore Oakland, Arlington and Seattle.
The owners made sure the Athletics were going to stay in Kansas City for four years. Finley looked into the other cities, and Arlington was in the running but the lack of a first-class facility was a major setback. Turnpike Stadium opened in 1965 with a capacity of 10,000 and the vague promise it could be expanded.
But Oakland had the brand-new 50,000 seat Alameda County Coliseum ready to go for the 1968 season. Oakland was also on the West Coast. Once again, the American League’s desire to increase its West Coast presence was a compelling factor.
When the 1967 season ended, the Athletics were on their way to a city that Gertrude Stein once said, “There’s no there, there.”
The Athletics left Kansas City with some of the best young talent in the game. Jackson, Catfish Hunter, Sal Bando and Bert Campaneris were among the players who formed the nucleus of an Athletics dynasty that won three straight World Series in 1972-74 … but in Oakland, not Arlington.
More hasty expansion
To mollify Kansas City, the American League announced the city would get an expansion team. But Mayor Illus Davis and Missouri Sen. Stuart Symington erupted in anger when they were told expansion would take place in 1971. Symington, unhappy about the three-year hiatus, immediately threatened to strip baseball of its antitrust exemption. That old ploy was still the best way to cajole the owners into action.
It worked again. AL president Joe Cronin placated Davis and Symington by moving up expansion by two years. Kansas City was one of those teams, and Symington accepted the 1969 compromise with one final parting shot at Finley.
He called Oakland, “The luckiest city since Hiroshima.”
As Finley headed West, Major League Baseball prepared for expansion, but once again nobody was really ready. There were plenty of cities wanting teams, but facilities were lacking.
That included Arlington and Turnpike Stadium. The lack of seats was a problem, but a bigger obstacle loomed down in Houston.
That was Judge Roy Hofheinz, the owner of the Astros, creator of the Astrodome and member of the three-man National League Expansion Committee. Hofheinz made it clear Texas belonged to the Astros and nobody else. President Johnson was in his corner. Never mind the 200-mile distance between the two cities. Vandergriff’s selling point of a natural rivalry similar to the Giants and the Dodgers didn’t fly either.
Hofheinz’s objections hardly deterred Vandergriff. In fact, he was even more determined to show “that cigar-smoking judge” he couldn’t stop baseball from coming to Arlington.
"Once he had a vision and saw what it could be, he kept after it," said the former mayor's son, Victor Vandergriff.
San Diego and Montreal ended up with the NL expansion teams. Seattle won the second AL team even though appropriately named Sicks Stadium was in terrible shape and badly needed major renovations. When the Pilots opened in 1969, construction crews were still hammering in seats.
The Pilots were a disaster. They lost 98 games on the field and suffered badly in attendance. The owners went bankrupt and couldn’t be saved by local investors. By the close of spring training in 1970, after all the legal wrangling had played out, it was obvious the Pilots would not stay in Seattle. Time was running out to find a home for the hapless squad that had been the fodder for the best-selling, classic book Ball Four.
Arlington and Milwaukee both wanted the team and Vandergriff went to work, again promising Turnpike Stadium could be made major league-ready by the following season. Lamar Hunt and Tommy Mercer were lined up as well-financed owners. They owned the minor-league team, the Dallas-Fort Worth Spurs, and Hunt had just watched his Kansas City Chiefs win the Super Bowl.
But the Milwaukee group, led by Ed Fitzgerald and Bud Selig, were equally well-financed. They also had County Stadium, abandoned a few years earlier when the Braves bolted for Atlanta.
County Stadium proved to be the difference-maker. DFW was the better market, but baseball was not eager for a team to play in a 10,000-seat stadium, even for one year. The Pilots moved to Milwaukee barely in time for Opening Day.
Requiem for the Senators
The Pilots were not the only franchise battling financial trouble. Back in Washington, the new Senators were facing similar issues as the original team that fled to Minnesota.
Owner Bob Short bought the Senators for $9.4 million in 1968, and much of that was on credit. He hired Ted Williams to be manager, and the Senators won a record 86 games in 1969. That didn’t translate to financial success.
Short was down $600,000 and having trouble paying rent, much less the interest on his loans.
Washington at the time was a government-centered town with no major industry or blue-collar workforce to adequately support baseball. The ballpark was in a bad location, enough to deter potential customers. Many of the governmental bigwigs did like the national pastime but also had a tendency to demand free tickets to the game.
Crime and urban decay were eroding the city’s core, and it got worse after James Earl Ray assassinated Martin Luther King. Many cities were rocked by protests and violence over the death of Dr. King, and Washington was one of the worst affected. It would be many years before the city recovered.
On the field the team went backwards in 1970, losing 92 games and even more money. Short made a desperate attempt to attract fans by trading for former 30-game winner Denny McLain from the Tigers. McLain, whose troubles had earned him multiple suspensions in 1970, ended up losing 22 games in 1971. By midway through that season, Short wanted out of Washington in the worst way.
Commissioner Bowie Kuhn, in his autobiography Hardball, recounted a late-night conversation with Short.
Short told Kuhn, “No one can keep me out in Washington, not Nixon, not Kuhn, not Cronin. I will cannibalize the club if necessary. … I have lawyers too. I will move wherever I want. Congress will not help me. … I don’t [care] if they stick you with the antitrust laws. I’ll go the distance with you. I will go elsewhere before I am forced into bankruptcy like Seattle. If we’re to save Washington, everybody has to give me something.”
Kuhn, who had once been a scoreboard operator at Griffith Stadium, desperately tried to find a local buyer. He had no luck. Even Bob Hope was no longer interested.
Short, unlike Finley, had sympathetic support from other owners who were also dealing with the urban decay issues of the times. Those owners knew they could easily find themselves in the same situation as Short, who was claiming losses of close to $2 million at that point. There were no other options.
After being blocked for over a decade, suddenly the road to Arlington was wide open.
Vandergriff went after Short with the same tenacity he did with other owners and cities. During one visit to Washington, Vandergriff was kicked out of a taxi when the driver discovered who he was and why he was in town.
On Sept. 21, 1971, Vandergriff made a terrific presentation to American League owners as to why Arlington was the best landing spot for the Senators. The promise was made to expand the stadium to 35,000 in time for the 1972 season and another 10,000 a year later.
Vandergriff was supported by Dallas Mayor Wes Wise and Fort Worth Mayor Sharkey Stovall. That same week, those three had gone to New York to secure $100 million in bonds for a proposed regional airport.
Because of the collaborative effort in both projects, Wise called it the “greatest day in the history of Dallas-Fort Worth.” Vandergriff would always deflect personal accolades, simply saying the pursuit of a baseball team had always been a community effort.
Kuhn tried to persuade the owners to vote down the move to Texas, but Short roared back. He told the other owners, “He’s a working stiff, not an owner. He has no investment in our game. You might all be in my shoes tomorrow.”
Kuhn lost. The vote passed by a 10-2 margin. Vandergriff’s dream had finally been realized.
As of Sept. 21, 1971, the Texas Rangers were on their way to Arlington.
Terrific Article!!!!