Year of the Tape Measure

According to baseball's version of the Chinese calendar, 1962 was the Year of the Stealer, 1963 was the Year of the Pitcher, 1964 was the Year the Phillies Folded, and 1965 was the Year the Yankees Lost the Pennant. So far, 1966 is clearly the Year of the Tape Measure.

Ballplayers must be stronger, or the ball must be livelier, or the air must be thinner, because the way this season is going, a horse—or at least his hide—will get to the moon before a man. In one game last week, Braves Outfielder Hank Aaron, no heavyweight, twice flicked his wrists and twice sent liners whistling high over Atlanta Stadium's 400-ft.-deep leftfield wall. In Washington, awed witnesses reported that a drive hit by Senators Outfielder Frank Howard was still climbing when it caromed off the centerfield seats 480 ft. from home plate and 75 ft. above the ground. In Baltimore, the Orioles' Frank Robinson topped even that by becoming the first player ever to hit a fair ball clear out of Memorial Stadium. The baseball was finally located lying in a parking lot 540 ft. away.

Stinging Tributes. Those feats are minor sensations compared to the springtime heroics of a pair of rookies named Rick Reichardt and George Scott. "I don't have a natural home-run swing. My arms are too short," says Outfielder Reichardt, a 23-year-old Wisconsin lad who signed a $200,000 contract with the Los Angeles Angels in 1964—thereby making him the most beautiful bonus baby of all time. Rick's first act as a pro was to step into the batting cage at Chavez Ravine and belt a ball straight over the 410-ft. sign in dead centerfield.

A solid 6-ft. 3-in. 210-pounder, Reichardt insists that he has not yet begun to hit. Earlier this month, he tied a big-league record by hitting two home runs in one inning. And last week he ranked ninth in the American League in batting (.304), second in home runs (eight), fifth in RBIs (18) and first in getting hit by pitched balls (six). They sting—oh, how they sting—but they are the sincerest tribute any pitcher can pay a batter.

Too Big & Too Good. Hardly anybody throws at George Scott—and that's another kind of tribute. The rookie first baseman of the Boston Red Sox is sturdier (at 6 ft. 2 in., 217 Ibs.) and maybe even stronger than Reichardt. He also is a straightaway swinger who hits his hardest shots right back through the middle—over the pitcher's mound. So opponents have concentrated instead on varying their pitches, probing for a weakness. New York's canny Whitey Ford figured a high fastball might be just the ticket—until Scott hit it 500 ft. into the upper deck at Yankee Stadium. Two weeks ago, Scott and the Red Sox invaded Minnesota for a four-game series. Twins Pitcher Dave Boswell tried to sneak in a waist-level fastball; Scott drove it 365 ft. into the rightfield stands. Then Al Worthington experimented with a wide, high curve; George hit that 365 ft. into the leftfield stands. Finally, in desperation, Jim Grant wound up and threw straight at Scott's knees—then turned around sadly to watch the ball sail 443 ft. into the centerfield bleachers.