Billy Pierce

White Sox pitching great Billy Pierce died yesterday at the age of 88.  Pierce has not been deemed worthy of entry into Cooperstown since his retirement in 1964.  The 211 career wins, 193 complete games and regular matchups against Whitey Ford impress HOF voters less than the accomplishments of Pedro Martinez, who was welcomed into Cooperstown last weekend; Martinez recorded eight more wins and 147 fewer complete games than Pierce.  And if Martinez made his baseball presence felt despite a 5’11” 170-pound frame, what to make of the 5’10”, 160-pound Pierce?  Only one of them depended on run support from Manny Ramirez and David Ortiz.  The other made due with the likes of Bubba Phillips and Sammy Esposito.

Pierce, like Minnie Minoso and Ernie Banks before him, could best be described as a gentleman, the kind who would thank fans for wanting his autograph.  I spoke with him once, in the green room at WGN Radio, maybe 17 years ago.  It was April, and we were there to talk about Chicago baseball in those weeks before reality could set in.

“Í like the jacket,” he said on shaking my hand; I was wearing a throwback White Sox jacket from the 1940s; Pierce was traded from the Tigers to the Sox in 1948.  We talked a little about Sox manager Al Lopez, with Pierce assuring me Lopez had nothing against playing rookies.  It was somebody else’s idea to trade away the 603 homeruns that Johnny Callison and Norm Cash would hit.

This being WGN, somebody had to represent the Cubs that evening, and it turned out to be ex-catcher Randy Hundley; he and Pierce knew one another from their time together on the Giants, where Pierce ended his career and Hundley started his before coming to the Cubs in 1966.  “I always appreciated that you let me catch you,” Hundley said.  “Veteran pitchers didn’t always want to throw to rookie catchers.”  In particular, Jack Sanford didn’t want to.

But Billy Pierce was a whole different kind of player, and human being.