Hi everyone:
Before we start on this one – that’s right. This entry may be a bit “long” for some readers. If that troubles you, my apologies. My writing style is such that concise articles are not my thing. I tend to write rather long things, especially if it is a subject that I am really passionate about. So just as with some of my other blog articles, I won’t take it personally if you’d rather “skim” this, or just not bother reading it at all. But if you do want to read this, thanks so much for staying. And if you want to share this one with others, feel free to do so with my thanks. The same with any of my other blog articles. Ready? Fasten your seat belts and here we go.
In my last blog entry from earlier today, I wrote a salute to the Woodstock festival on its 40th anniversary. But it’s Monday August 18 1969, and things are winding down. The closing acts, highlighted by Jimi Hendrix, have left the stage. Woodstock is over. All that’s left now is for people to pack up and go home. But they will do so with many wonderful memories of a weekend that they will never forget. And leave behind a muddy farmers field and a mess of garbage and other matter that is understandable when several hundred thousand people gather in one place for three amazing days.
So now that Woodstock is over, let’s do a wee bit of time travel. We’re still in 1969, but we’re going back to the start of the weekend, to Friday August 15. And to a different place in a different country. We’re headed just a couple of hundred miles or so due north of where Woodstock took place. Join me as we journey up Interstate 87, past the state capital of Albany, followed quickly by Saratoga (home of the famous race course, as well as one of the battles in the American Revolution), through the Adirondack Mountains and then to Plattsburgh. Up the Hudson river valley and along the shores of Lake Champlain. Then a short stop at the Canadian border to clear customs and then up to Montreal. With good weather and plenty of gas, and when you factor in a couple of rest stops, probably a seven or eight hour trip north to Canada.
Now you’re in my world. Or at least the world of a 12 year old kid who, as the first act took the stage that morning at Woodstock, was looking forward to something a bit more personal scheduled for that evening, attending a major league baseball game live and in person for the first time. In 1968, the National League awarded an expansion franchise to my hometown of Montreal, to begin play the following season. The city was alive and wonderful in those days, much of it due to the recently completed Expo 67, the most successful world’s fair in history. And while our beloved Montreal Canadiens (affectionately known to fans worldwide simply as “the Habs”) had won yet another Stanley Cup that spring, there was more than just hockey on the minds of Montreal sports fans. Merchandising wasn’t nearly as big in 1969 as it is now, but in spite of that, many Montrealers of all ages could be seen wearing Expos souvenirs such as ballcaps, T shirts and jackets. The team’s red white and blue logo, as well as their tri-coloured caps that reminded many Americans of the French flag, was an instant hit and easily recognizable all over town. They soon became “Nos Amours” and a love affair between a city and a baseball team was born.
The Expos had come to Montreal, and while we knew that as an expansion team they wouldn’t amount to much, we still loved them. You could feel the excitement all season long in 1969, from that first game on April 14 (the first major league game ever played outside the USA – which the Expos won 8-7 over the St. Louis Cardinals) to the final out in early October. And in keeping with the city itself, baseball was definitely a bilingual affair. I remember taking trips on the Metro subway system back then, and on many of the trains, you saw advertising panels that explained baseball terms in both English and French. If I remember right, the posters were called “Exposé de certaine termes du baseball”. Just imagine this fictional inning at Jarry Park outlined in both languages:
The pitcher/lanceur throws a baseball to the catcher/receveur. Was it a strike/prise, or a ball/balle? I think the umpire/arbitre missed the call. No matter – here’s the next pitch. A base hit to right field/ un coup-sur au champ droit. The runner leads off first base/premier but. Gotta watch out. Could be a stolen base/but volé. Time for the next batter/frappeur. And he wastes no time. The first pitch is hit for a fly ball out to left field/champ gauche. Man, he really got a hold of that one. Could be a two run homer/circuit de deux pointes. But in the end, it’s not far enough and the ball is caught by the outfielder/voltigeur. One out/un retrait. Runner thinks about moving on, but decides to stay at first. The next batter again hits the first pitch. And this time it’s a great double play started by the shortstop/arret-court! Fielded the ball and stepped on second base/deuxieme but to get that runner. Then fired a bullet over to the first baseman/jouer du premier but just in time to beat the batter. Three outs/trois retraits and end of the inning/fin de la manche. No runs, one hit, no errors and no one left on base. In French, it would be something like this: “Aucune pointes, un coup-sur, aucune erreurs et aucune coureurs laissés sur les sentiers”. With apologies to my French readers if my spelling or grammar is a bit off. Written French can be a pain at times!
Just over 1 million people went to Jarry Park during the 1969 season – not bad for an expansion team. And not bad when you consider that the place wasn’t much to look at. Primitive compared to the modern ballparks of today. Little more than just some grandstands pieced together, with a small press box high overhead that provided the only shelter from inclement weather. If it looked that way, it’s probably because that’s what it really was. When the National League decided to award Montreal a franchise, one of the major problems was trying to locate a stadium in which the new team would play. Several places around town were considered, including the old Delormier Stadium that the minor league Montreal Royals had once played in. But all were rejected as unsuitable, probably for as many reasons as the locations themselves.
It was only as a last resort and practically in desperation that Jarry Park, located in the city’s north end, was suggested and finally accepted by the National League. The original stadium on the site was hurriedly renovated and expanded so that it would seat 30,000 people, but it wasn’t hard to see that it was still a temporary home and would remain so until the team moved to the Olympic Stadium in 1977. As an aside, I also attended the very first game they ever played at the Stadium, joining something like 50,000 people who watched the Expos play the Philadelphia Phillies. It remains to this day the only home opener I have ever attended in person.
On the night of Friday August 15 1969, just as the Woodstock festival was hitting its stride down there in New York State, I was indeed one of several thousand people who attended the Expos game at Jarry Park. Almost 25,000 to be precise. In primitive surroundings. Something that I would remember for the rest of my life. Lots of magic moments on and off the diamond. With interesting music supplied by the Jarry Park organist, joined by a whole host of characters – the fans. Sound familiar? That’s right. That’s pretty much what I said about Woodstock if you go back to the first paragraph of my blog entry from earlier today.
Montreal’s opponents that evening were none other than the Los Angeles Dodgers. If any of you reading this saw my earlier blog entry about the Toronto Blue Jays, and why I don’t cheer for them, you know that I have been a Dodgers fan all of my life. Even back on that hot August night at Jarry Park, the Dodgers were my team. So when my father told us that he had tickets for the 4 of us to see the Dodgers play the Expos, I was thrilled. Like many Montrealers, I had already fallen in love with the Expos, so when you combine that with my love for the Dodgers, it meant that I would see my two favourite teams play each other.
With the passage of time, there are many things I don’t remember about the whole thing. Such as exactly how we got to the Expos game that night. Whether we drove into Montreal and then parked near the stadium, or if we took the Metro subway system and then a shuttle bus from either the Jean Talon or Jarry stations. I used both methods to go to games many times during the eight seasons (1969 to 1976) that the Expos played at Jarry Park. I don’t remember what time we arrived, or whether I might have had a hot dog or two at the game (I was too young for beer!). I also don’t remember all the particulars from the game itself. Fortunately, I recently found a Web site that offers the entire linescore, and even a “play by play” of sorts from that night:
http://www.baseball-reference.com/boxes/MON/MON196908150.shtml
But in spite of all that, I do remember that it was a lot of fun. A warm summer night. The smell of hot dogs and beer in the air. The organist, Fernand Lapierre, and thousands of others providing a festive atmosphere. Our seats were located down the first base line, perhaps the equivalent of shallow right field. Which gave us an excellent view of the action. A large and friendly crowd was in attendance, and if nothing else we were celebrating the start of another weekend. Bear in mind, of course, that this was before the age of mascots, video scoreboards and other “entertainment” that have since turned attending a baseball game or other sports event into an experience where the game almost seems like an after-thought. Given that the Dodgers won handily that night (9-2), it wasn’t a classic by any means, but still memorable. And a wonderful way to spend a Friday night. Good old-fashioned entertainment, made memorable by 2 baseball teams and thousands of passionate fans who made their fun. Who didn’t need a mascot or a video scoreboard to tell them when to cheer. But don’t get me started!
As a wide-eyed 12 year old baseball fan, I was totally in awe of both teams. It had been four years since the Dodgers won the World Series against Minnesota, and while 1969 was not a season that Dodger fans will remember, they were still pretty good. The team featured stars such as Maury Wills, Wes Parker and Willie Davis. And a pitching staff led by Claude Osteen, Don Drysdale and Don Sutton, who as the above Web site shows, pitched a complete game that night and earned the victory, the 15th of the season. He would win two more that year, and wind up with an overall record of 17-18. But I digress!
The Expos were, of course, the Expos. An expansion team consisting mostly of players that the more established baseball teams had considered expendable, and thus made them available to Montreal as well as to the San Diego Padres (the other team that joined the National League that year). Like all expansion teams, little was expected from them, and so we were not disappointed when they finished up 1969 with a record of 52-110. But even though other teams didn’t want them, players like Bill Stoneman, Jim “Mudcat” Grant, Dan McGinn, Coco Laboy, Gary Sutherland, Bobby Wine, Ty Cline, Floyd Wicker and Bob Bailey became fan favourites. And of course no discussion of the early years of the Expos would be complete without mentioning perhaps their 2 best known players. Left fielder Mack Jones had come from the Atlanta Braves in the expansion draft, and soon became so popular that the left field bleachers at Jarry Park were known as “Jonesville”. And patrolling right field – none other than Daniel Joseph Staub, who came to Montreal from the Houston Astros. Although we knew him better by his nickname “Rusty” in tribute to his red hair. Indeed, the French media and fans took to calling him “Le Grande Orange”, and the rest of us took up the cry too. Rusty Staub became the Expos first real superstar. When he was traded to the Mets four years later, the city mourned his departure. And was joyful when Rusty returned for one last hurrah with the Expos in 1979.
That night opened up a whole new world for me. It was a chance to see major league baseball up close and personal. Not watching on CBC television as Hal Kelly and Jim Hearn described the action. Not listening on CFCF as Dave Van Horne and Russ Taylor performed the same duties for thousands of radio listeners in Quebec, eastern Ontario, New York State and Vermont. No, this time I was really there watching in person. Since then I have lost track of how many games I have attended in person. But there’s nothing like the first time. That’s what they say about falling in love – among other things. And I think it’s true of baseball games too. Hard to believe that my first game was 40 years ago today.
Finally, a wee bit of trivia before I close off. Gene Mauch was the losing manager for the Expos that night. It was the 81st loss of the season for Montreal, and as I noted earlier the Expos would go on to lose 110 in 1969. Mauch was well known in baseball circles, among his many accomplishments was that he had managed the Philadelphia Phillies through much of the 1960’s, losing the 1964 pennant to St. Louis in the season’s final days. But when he was let go by the Phillies after the 1968 season, the Expos chose him to be the team’s first manager. I suppose the ownership and management wanted Mauch because the team had many veteran players who would respond well to a veteran manager. He stayed in Montreal until the end of the 1975 season, when the team dismissed him. I had watched him manage many Expos games, but little did I realize that I would see him manage again.
In July 1977, as part of my first trip to the West Coast to visit relatives and friends, I stayed in Seattle for several days with one of my aunts. As a thank-you to her, I took her to a Seattle Mariners game at the Kingdome in downtown Seattle. Just as the Expos had been in 1969, the Mariners were an expansion team, with similar qualities. But wouldn’t you know it, the Mariners beat the Minnesota Twins that day. And the Twins manager? You guessed it. Gene Mauch.
I cite this because that 1977 game in Seattle was the first time I had attended an American League baseball game. Gene Mauch had been the losing manager in my first National League game on that 1969 night in Montreal. Eight years later, he’s the losing manager in my first American League game in Seattle. As Mel Allen, the legendary Yankee broadcaster and former host of “This Week in Baseball” might say – “How about that!”
That’s all for now. To bring all this full circle and back to my original entry this morning about Woodstock, once I publish this entry on my blog, I may just watch that Hendrix video again, or listen to a Jefferson Airplane CD on my stereo. Or other music from that era that is part of my music collection. Sure, a fun tribute to Woodstock and the 1960’s. But while I am listening, I will also think of that long ago night at Jarry Park with my family, watching the Expos, with all the memories that go along with it.
Play ball!!
SPECIAL BONUS COVERAGE: Ever noticed that sometimes when a ball game is supposed to be on television and it goes into a rain delay that the station will switch over to another one until the first game is ready to go? It’s sometimes referred to as “bonus coverage”.
Well I have just the thing for all you Expo fans who read my entire entry. It’s now August 2010. One year after writing the above. And recently I learned about a wonderful video tribute to the team that is on You Tube. Now I must confess that I am not a big “rap music” fan. But this one is great. The narrator does a “rap” about the Expos over the “This Week in Baseball” theme. The video closes with the wonderful words of Dave Van Horne, who just happened to be in Montreal for the Expos final game in 2004 as part of the Florida Marlins broadcasting team and offered some final Expo memories of his own.
Here’s the video:
A Video Tribute to the Montreal Expos – on You Tube
I’ll bet it will bring a tear to your eye and bring back some great Expos memories.
Until next time/a la prochaine!!
What a nice piece. As a younger ‘Spos fan from Mauricie, I only had the chance to attend one game in the middle of the nineties, but I remember me and my schoolmates stopping at a rest-stop near Trois-Rivières to scotch our huge support banner together. I can only hope that pro ball, even a triple A team, will one day be back in Montreal.
The uniform patch the Padres are wearing this year to commemorate their 40-year anniversary is really making me cringe every time I see it… What could have been, heh!
Joe:
Thank you. Glad you enjoyed it. I would love to see some form of pro baseball back in Montreal. I think given the right business model, a proper stadium in which to play, and a good marketing plan, it could work. Since I now live in Hamilton, it’s not as easy to come back to Montreal as often as I used to. But my heart and soul have never left Montreal and probably never will. It’s home and I love it. That’s one reason why I also run a group on LinkedIn for former Montrealers who now live in the Toronto region. If others can read this blog comment, you can learn more by visiting:
http://www.gregcbrown.com/linkedin.html
As for the Padres and their 40th anniversary stuff – I agree with you. But they have every right to celebrate it, so while it does offer some sad memories as well as wondering what could have been, so be it. I have always found it interesting that all this turned out the way it did. I remember back in the mid 1970’s, there was talk that the Padres were in trouble and there was serious talk of them leaving San Diego. Where to? Well, the rumour back then was Washington. Never happened, of course. But seeing that in fact it was the other NL team from 1969 that wound up there, it seems a bit ironic to me.
Thanks for the kind words, and do keep in touch.
Greg
wow, what a great post! Loved itl J’ai particulièrement aimé tout le volet “basebal en français”. merci!
Pierre:
Merci beaucoup, mon ami! I am glad you enjoyed it. And it sounds like I did get the French parts right. My spoken French is still pretty good, even though I left Montreal many years ago. But written French is really tricky to do. I take it from your photo that you’re a Dodger fan. So am I. As I said in my article, I have always found it a bit ironic that my first ever game involved my 2 favourite teams. Now that the Expos are gone, it’s that much easier to cheer for LA.
A la prochaine!!
My late father and uncle, along with my brother and I attended our first MLB game one night earlier, on August 14, 1969, when the ‘Spos dismantled Pete Rose and the Reds by a score of 6-3.
That night, the Jarry Park ushers threw individually wrapped cupcakes into the crowd to celebrate the first anniversary of the awarding of the franchise to the city of Montreal. A man seated behind us caught one of the cupcakes and gave it to me (or my bro, I can’t recall), so we ate Expos birthday cake.
Nancy Greene was in the crowed that night and took a bow as she was introduced to the crowd.
As we took our seats along the first base side and looked down onto the field, the first MLB player that I saw was Lee May.
40 years gone in the blink of an eye, but each year I remember the anniversary of the day that I saw Young Expos president Rusty Staub for the first time. Those were the days.
Thanks for this – I loved your comment. So you folks were there the night before. Fascinating. So I’ll wager both of these games were part of a homestand against Western division teams. I saw the Reds a couple of times at Jarry Park and also years later at the Olympic Stadium. Of course they were the “Big Red Machine” back then, with not just Rose, but Perez, Morgan, Bench, Concepcion and so on. Quite a team!
I still miss the Expos, but I have no interest in the franchise as now constituted in Washington. I wish the Nats well, but I really have no emotional bond to the team.
Kindest regards, and do keep in touch
Greg
The first Expos game I attended was on August 5, 1969 – my 9th birthday. It was a doubleheader that the Atlanta Braves swept, but that didn’t matter. I was at a baseball game, and it was magical!
I attended many games over the Jarry Park years in the heat of scorching heat of summer, when the sun would fry the backs of the metal chairs. I froze in April and September, but would be warmed by my Expos toque.
I saw players like Johnny Bench and Willie Stargell hit mammoth homers into the swimming pool over the right field wall, and I saw the Le Grand Orange, the Dancer, and yes…even the guy who bought two season tickets, one for him… and one for his duck!
I relished the move into the brand spanking new Big O, because now we were officially “big league”. I loved home openers, in fact, I attended every Opener between 1977 and 1994, a streak that was only broken as I moved to Vancouver. I luxuriated in our breakthrough season of 1979, where we not only won more games than we lost (for the first time), but almost won the division!
I lived through the heartbreak of the final 3 games of the 1980 season….needing only to win two of three games against the hated Phillies to capture the NL East, but see them beat on a rocket launcher by Mike Schmidt.
I was there for every playoff game in 1991, and (*sigh*) for Dodger Blue Monday as well. “Next year” would be our refrain, but next year never came.
Oh, the Expos had some more good teams over the years, but nothing hurt like the strike of 94′. What could have been? What could have happened to the franchise that I fell in love with in 1969?
Sadly, we’ll never know. The memories, however, will always live with me.