Phillies' Baron remembers his first spring at Jack Russell ... 1964

A young Baron … Larry Shenk — remember shis first spring training at Jack Russell Stadium in Clearwater in 1964.

March 6, 2024

By Larry (Baron) Shenk

Philadelphia Phillies

Four months after joining the Phillies as publicity director (October 1963), it was time to head for Clearwater and Jack Russell Stadium, places I’d heard about.

As a fan, there was nothing more exciting than hearing By Saam broadcasting the first spring training game from Jack Russell Stadium. Now, I was going to be there.

Spring training began on Feb. 29, 1964. Not exactly sure when I took a flight on Eastern Air Lines.

Since I was the fourth PR person in four years, it was suggested my bride of six-months, Julie, should remain behind until I got my feet wet. She and Stephanie Carpenter, wife of Ruly Carpenter, took the train from Wilmington to Clearwater about three weeks later.

I was never provided a job description so life was the basic on-the-job training.

Everybody, four of us from the front office plus manager Gene Mauch, four coaches, one trainer, four Philadelphia writers (Allen Lewis, Inquirer; Ray Kelly, Evening Bulletin; Stan Hochman, Daily News, and Al Cartwright, Wilmington News-Journal, my boss before the Phillies); three broadcasters (Saam, Bill Campbell and Richie Ashburn) and all the players, stayed at the Jack Tar Hotel.

In those days, the hotel was only open during the winter months. When we left to start the season, the doors closed.

We didn’t need alarm clocks because every morning at six a.m., a freight train went through downtown Clearwater, blowing its whistle at every street intersection.

My office (card table and my personal manual typewriter) was in a two-room suite as there were no offices at Jack Russell Stadium. The “suite” wasn’t exactly plush. It was basically two connecting rooms. Pitching coach Al Widmar was a neighbor. First time Julie took a shower she heard a voice through a 12”-square metal grate above the shower head, “Julie, I can see you.” Learned it was Al and he couldn’t see anyone. Al was a fun person to be around. Whenever we would go to dinner with him and others from the Phillies, he’d convince the waiters it was his birthday. We always got free dessert.

The stadium ticket office was only open when we played home games. The 25-game schedule started March 14. Fifteen were home games. We carried tickets with us and gave them away ... make that, tried to give them away.

We printed large poster schedules. I went door-to-door visiting downtown businesses asking them to display the posters in their windows. Any business who agreed was given two tickets. Bribery.

I quickly learned the Clearwater Bombers, a pro men’s softball team, was more popular than the Phillies. The Bombers played their games at Jack Russell Stadium in the summer. Their posters got priority in most businesses.

Clearwater had an evening newspaper, the Clearwater Sun. Press releases and box scores had to be delivered to the office a couple of blocks away from the hotel.

Two radio stations were in town, WTAN and WAZE. Neither cared about sports let alone the Phillies. WTAN’s most popular show was a daily feature on news and weather in Canada.

I hired a photographer to take black and white head shots of the players. Julie wrote names on the back, and I mailed them to newspapers back north.

Daily practices began around 10 a.m. with sprints and Mauch as the starter. With only one field at the stadium, workouts didn’t end until 4-4:30 p.m.

There was another field a block to the west, once Clearwater Athletic Field that was the Phillies home before Jack Russell Stadium. There was no evidence that a grandstand existed. Just a field of sand and seashells. Rookies worked out there most of the time.

The small, cement-block clubhouse was located under the stadium’s first base stands. Forty-some players were squeezed into rows of wood and wire lockers. Mauch’s office was tiny as was the trainer’s room. Six shower heads in a small shower room. A very narrow row of lockers was added to the original clubhouse construction at some point. It was known as “Rookie Row.”

I wasn’t the lone rookie in camp. Among the rookies were Rick Wise, Johnny Briggs and Richie Allen. And the first-ever Phillies Press Guide. Not allowed to print one professionally, Julie and I hand-made 300 copies, 58 pages per.

Richie, as he was called then, was moved to third base, a position he hadn’t played since high school. Veteran Don Hoak, a former Marine, was the incumbent. I can still see him standing behind Richie at third base during batting practice, arms folded across his chest, the glare of a drill sergeant and watching Richie’s every move. A young athlete was taking a job from an aging veteran.

Almost everyone had a car, except rookies. Being a rookie, I didn’t have one. I walked to the stadium or hitched a ride. Same for dinner. Not many dining options then, a coffee shop and a restaurant in the hotel, Jimmy Hall’s steak house (players’ favourite) about four blocks away and the Beachcomber on Clearwater Beach. Every night, Phillies officials, writers and broadcasters dined there. Entertaining the media was part of my job. Put on some 20 pounds feasting on shrimp cocktail, steak and baked Alaska every night.

Eventually I was given a car and for most of the road games, I drove two or three writers.

I’ll always remember my first game at Jack Russell Stadium. Cookie Rojas was our first batter. He grounded to the pitcher who threw the ball over the first baseman’s head. I jumped up and yelled, “Go, Cookie, Go.” Lewis, who would become a mentor and a life-long friend, grabbed me by the belt and yanked me back into my metal folding chair. “First rule. No cheering in the press box. Understand!!”

The press box was an open area at the top of the home plate stands and under a metal roof. Pigeons nested in the beams supporting the roof. My daily job was to clean the press box tables and chairs of pigeon do-do. Hey, I’m in the big leagues, my dream.

Not all writers sat in the press box. There was a grassy area beyond the first base stands. Three or four writers would park themselves there and take off their shirts to get a tan. Most of the writers were on the beefy side. We named the area “Whale Beach” and had a sign erected on the fence.

Writers typed their stories on brown copy paper. A Western Union operator would then key stroke the story to the newspaper. If an operator didn’t show, the writers (or me), delivered their stories to Western Union’s office in downtown Clearwater.

There was a vacant ballroom on the top floor of the hotel. Every day the front office, Mauch, coaches, broadcasters and writers would gather there for a happy hour called the “Cheese Room.”

My job was to supply the booze and snacks. I’d go shopping at the ABC liquor store on Gulf-To-Bay Boulevard once a week. Not for bottles, but cases. Then, several times a week, I’d shop at Winn-Dixie. Crackers, cheese, more crackers, more cheese. One time the cashier said, “You must be having some kind of a party.”

All the liquor and goodies were stored in my two rooms. There were four hotel bellmen, and one was assigned each day to take the goodies to and from my room. Because of the Cheese Room, Julie and I had a bonus…a refrigerator.

Buster was one of the bellmen. Believing some of the players were violating his midnight curfew, Mauch gave Buster a baseball. “Get me some autographs after midnight, Buster.” Next day Mauch fined four players for breaking curfew.

Spring training ended with games against the Pittsburgh Pirates in Chattanooga (Tenn.) on April 10 and in Asheville (N.C.) the following day. Meanwhile, Julie and I drove GM John Quinn’s company car (big blue Oldsmobile) back to Philly, saving airfare for Julie. April 12 was an exhibition game against the Baltimore Orioles at Connie Mack Stadium. The season opener was April 14, a home game with the New York Mets.

Back again in February the next year. Same hotel, same two rooms, same stain in the carpet. Fortunately, someone had cleaned out the refrigerator.