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Sport: Big Man from Nicetown
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Otherwise Campy was the politest of players. Claude Corbitt, Syracuse lead-off batter, found that Campy would begin each game by saying: "Good evening, Mr. Corbitt. How are you tonight?" Complained Corbitt: "The first time, I was so stunned that I could barely tap the ball back to the pitcher."
Home-Run Chickens. Campy, who began the 1946 season with an opening-day home run, became Nashua's big gun at the plate. He hit 13 homers in 113 gamesa solid achievement at Nashua, where there was no outfield fence. A local farmer offered 100 chickens for every home run, and Campy sent his 1,300 prizes to his father, who raised them as a side line to his vegetable business. By the end of the season, Campy was an almost unanimous choice for the league's all-star team and received its most-valuable-player award.
In 1948 Campy was called up to the majors, and the Dodgers' Manager Leo Durocher was dead set on using him as his catcher. General Manager Branch Rickey (a sociologist who is now having plain baseball trouble with his cellar-dwelling Pittsburgh Pirates) had other plans. Keep Campy on the bench, he ordered. Make it look as if he can't make the team. Having reaped the profits of opening the major leagues to Negroes, Rickey wanted the added rewards from sending Campy to the St. Paul Saints as the first Negro in the American Association. Dodger fans would never let him get away with it if they knew how good Campy was.
Durocher screamed havoc (a particular talent), but Campy went out to St. Paul. He stayed a month (and hit 13 home runs while he batted .325) before he got Rickey's O.K. to return. The Dodgers had slumped dismally into sixth place. When the beer-keg backstop walked purposefully into the Ebbets Field clubhouse, Durocher was facing a three-game series with the Giants. "Get dressed," he ordered. "You're catching tonight." With Campy's help, the Dodgers climbed back to third place.
Old Indestructible. Next year, under a new manager, gentle Bert Shotton, the Dodgers won a pennant. Jackie Robinson ran wild on the basepaths (he stole 37 bases), took the National League batting title (.342). Campy was still playing the relentless game he had learned in the Negro leagues. Beaned by a Pittsburgh pitcher's fast ball, he was carried to the hospital suffering from a severe concussion. Next day, nevertheless, he was back in uniform, ready to hit batting practice. Shotton stared at him. "You all right?" he asked in disbelief. "Sure," said Campy. "Then what's your left eye out of line for?" demanded Shotton.
That day the indestructible Campy consented to ride the bench while he got his left eye back in line. He was back in action the next afternoon.
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