"Catfish"

-a tribute by Steve Kontos

What a year in sports: Eight members of the Cincinnati Bengals football team arrested; Allen Iverson deciding not to play anymore, quitting on his team; college players accused of rape; great players past and present denying they used performance enhancing drugs.

Where have all the heroes gone?

I know. How naïve? Sports is big business, the players are our present-day gladiators and we should ignore the noise outside the lines and enjoy the spectacle of the game.

I disagree. I remember when sports stars were our heroes – at least they were heroes to me.

Now, and then, I loved baseball. I remember trying to switch-hit like Mickey Mantle; I would rock back and forth in my stance waiting for the pitch like Bobby Murcer; I would dive to my right at third and come up throwing like Nettles; I would try to go the other way like Roy White; and I would try to pitch like Jim “Catfish” Hunter.

Whenever I tried to pitch, I tried to pitch like “Catfish.” The big windup: Arms over and behind the head; tilting back and then that long stride with the glove-hand thrown out towards home plate; glove-hand open towards first base; and the follow-through; three-quarter side-arm and the powerful finish, drifting towards first-base.

When I teach my son to pitch, I’ll teach him to pitch like “Catfish.” Throw strikes, son. Make them reach a little further out on each pitch. Then carve ‘em up on the inside.

Catfish hunter was 23-14 with the New York Yankees in 1975, leading the league in wins, complete games (30) and innings pitched (328). The year prior, his last with the Oakland A’s, he was 25-12 with 23 complete games. All told, he won 20 or more games five years in a row. But, all those games and all those innings took their toll.

1976.

“You couldn’t hide it. Catfish was getting hit hard and Catfish never got hit hard. He had 30 complete games last year and 320-something innings pitched… man, his arm was gone. Still, they kept giving him the ball and he kept going out there and all of us could see the pain he was in.” -Reggie Jackson.

“He just liked to pitch. So whenever they told him to go out and pitch, he wanted to pitch and do, you know, do the best that he could." –Helen Hunter.

“I always enjoyed pitching every inning I could. When I first came over to the Yankees, that’s what they did." –James “Catfish” Hunter.

Cat still managed to win 17 games in 1976. But everyone saw it was accomplished in a great deal of pain. 1977 was his worst year. As a last resort, in 1978, when he couldn’t even throw well enough to have a catch with his young son, he submitted to a bizarre shoulder and arm manipulation to break up all the adhesions in his shoulder from all those complete games. It worked. “Big Game” Hunter was back and he helped the Yankees come back from being 13 games behind a Boston Red Sox team many thought were superior to the Yankees.

“In 1978, I had a great season, but I basically just held things together until “Catfish” got back. He was the real reason why we won, not me.” – Ron Guidry.

Down the stretch, Cat won 10 games including six in a row. The Yankees pulled even with the Sox, and of course, won that dramatic one-game playoff to face the Dodgers in the World Series.

In the World Series, Hunter lost game two. In game six, the final game of the series, Catfish was rocked in the first inning by a Davey Lopes home run. Davey Lopes went back to the dugout and said, “Catfish ain’t got nothin’.”

Well, all the Dodgers got that night was one run. Game over. Another championship for the Yankees – and number five for Catfish.

The next year Catfish retired. He was 33. I remember one of his last games. He was still throwing 90-plus miles per hour. 1979 was up and down but my last impression of him pitching was the classic delivery: Arm flung towards the target; the long stride; the pitch up and in; a late swing and strike three.

Catfish had diabetes. He started giving himself injections when he was with the Yankees. He dealt with the disease like he did with everything else: Head-on. The injections, at first, alarmed his teammates, but he would hold out the syringe and say, “Hey, you want to give me this shot?”. Invariably, the response was, “No, no, that’s okay Cat. You go ahead.”

After his playing career, Jim Hunter developed ALS – Lou Gehrig’s disease. There was no cure then, and there is no cure now. He faced that head on too.

“You keep fighting and you just take things one day at a time and know the Good Lord is with you.” How incredible is it that one of the elite athletes ever in the world – a pitcher - lost the use of his arms. His wife Helen cleaned him, clothed him and fed him. What must that have been like for him and his partner since high school?

Catfish died at age 53. His foundation lives on.

Pitcher, teammate, champion, father, friend and husband - that was Jim Hunter.

Catfish was the first million dollar free-agent. He was one of the most well-known sports stars of his era. Even Bob Dylan wrote a song about him.

“Catfish” wasn’t always “Catfish.” To his older brothers and high school teammates, he was just “Jimmy.”

He never played in the minor leagues. When he was recruited out of high school by the owner of the Kansas City Athletics’s (soon to become the Oakland A’s), Charlie O. Finley said, “Do you have a nickname?” Catfish said, "No." Mr Finley said, "What do you like to do?" Catfish: "Hunting and fishing." Finley: "You ran away from home when you were six to go fishing. You caught two catfish and were bringing in the third when they finally found you. That's your nickname. Now, repeat it back to me."

• The resume is something like you might have read in, The Natural:
  Perfect game against the Twins age 22 in 1968.
• Three consecutive world championships.
• 20 game winner five times in a row.
• Beat the Reds in the 1972 World Series, coming on in relief in the 7th game.
• In the '73 Series, came in on short rest to face Tom Seaver and beat the Mets.
• In World Series game one in 1974 against the Dodgers in relief Catfish faced Joe Ferguson, a dead fastball hitter. In the 9th inning,“Cat” respected the fact that catcher Ray Fosse wanted him to throw a curve ball, but Catfish said, “I don’t have a curve ball today.” Ferguson went down swinging at a fastball up and in. Catfish got the save and went on to win the third game of the series.

Always respectful and maybe a little shy, when he spoke, he spoke with a quiet, country charm. It was fun to hear "clips" of him on the Yankeeography series.

I always found it interesting that in his retirement speeches and in his Hall of Fame speech he would without fail, thank "Mr. Finley" for his nickname, and "Mr. Steinbrenner" for his money.

I knew that he knew that those two owners were the most obnoxious, meddlesome owners in baseball. Finley made the A's travel with a mule and lavished all kinds of attention on the animal while he cut player's salaries. Steinbrenner went through managers, coaches, front-office personnel and assistants at an embarrassing rate. But Hunter always thanked each owner for that one thing - and only that one thing. I think I heard you loud and clear Catfish!