Mediocre Major League Baseball Catchers

Some have made their mark in different ways.

Sure, it’s easy to name the best all-time Major League Baseball catchers. That list might include: Yogi Berra (lifetime batting average - .285); Johnny Bench (.267); Roy Campanella (.283); Mickey Cochrane (.320); Mike Piazza (.308); Ivan Rodriguez (.296); Carlton Fisk (.269); Gary Carter (.262); Bill Dickey (.313) and Gabby Hartnett (.297). Those decent batting averages, combined with their defensive prowess, and their power (Piazza hit 427 homeruns; Bench hit 389; Berra hit 358; Fisk hit 376; Rodriguez hit 311; Carter hit 324), suggest greatness. And, every one of them has been enshrined in the National Baseball Hall of Fame - yeah, you can visit them (or, at least a bronze plaque of them) in Cooperstown, New York.

But, what about those lesser lights, those catchers who donned the “tools of ignorance,” as the safety gear worn by catchers has been dubbed, but who appear in Cooperstown only as visitors, like you and me?

As you might expect, a number of them remained in baseball, becoming coaches, or managers - members.tripod.com reveals that 116 former catchers have become Major League managers. That list includes a couple of recognizable names, such as Connie Mack (.244) - real name: Cornelius McGillicuddy (really!); Branch Rickey (.239) - played an instrumental role in opening Major League Baseball to black players, by signing Jackie Robinson; and Malachi Kittridge (.219) (just kidding about that last one - I’ve never heard of Malachi Kittridge, either - he managed for only 18 games in 1904, for the Washington Senators, and presided over exactly one win, which still represents more wins than many current denizens of Washington, D.C.).

And, some migrated into broadcasting, including such well-known broadcasters as: Tim McCarver (.271); Joe Garagiola (.257); and Bob Brenly (.247), who also dabbled in managing.

There is another mediocre catcher, who made a living out of his mediocrity: Bob Uecker (.200). Ironically, Uecker’s lifetime batting average of .200, which is right on the heralded “Mendoza Line,” so named in honor (dishonor?) of a 1970’s-era shortstop, Mario Mendoza, who struggled to achieve at least a .200 batting average during several of his big-league seasons, is below Mendoza’s lifetime batting average mark of .215. Perhaps the line should have been cast as the “Uecker Line.”

Uecker navigated a post-baseball career as a broadcaster for the Milwaukee Brewers, and had a few acting roles (TV sitcom Mr. Belvedere and the Major League movies are two that spring to mind). He was also featured in a series of 1980’s Miller Lite beer commercials, in which he deployed his well-known catchphrase: “I must be in the front row.” (his seats were invariably in the nosebleed section of the stands). Armed with his self-deprecating humor, Uecker appeared on the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson over 100 times during the 1970’s and 1980’s, likely sandwiched between appearances by Don Rickles and Joan Embery, from the San Diego Zoo, who might have been introducing Johnny to a lemur (and, maybe sandwiched between them on the couch too). He might also have bumped into Carol Wayne, a buxom, B-list actor, and another frequent Tonight Show visitor, who was the original Kardashian (you know, famous for being famous), and who spent time sitting on Johnny’s couch. What? I said “. . .sitting on Johnny’s couch.” What did you think I said? Get your mind out of the gutter.

Mr. Uecker, Rule of Three salutes you in your efforts to make mediocrity fashionable - it gives us hope that, one day, our own efforts will be recognized for. . .well, to be honest, we’re kinda’ hoping to be feted for excellence, and not for mediocrity. But, your way sounds nice too.

The final mediocre catcher we’d like to highlight is Moe Berg (.243), who toiled in the Major Leagues during the 1920’s and 1930’s. His post-baseball career is perhaps the most interesting of all catchers: he was a spy. That’s right, he performed spying activities during World War II, on behalf of the United States’ Office of Strategic Services (OSS), the predecessor organization of the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA).

The OSS sent Berg to Europe during the war to gather intelligence from scientists regarding the state of Nazi nuclear weapons development, and to attempt to convince prominent scientists to relocate to the United States - sort of like Major League Baseball’s free agency program. Berg was also equipped with a .45 handgun and a cyanide capsule at one point, and asked to consider assassinating Werner Heisenberg, a German theoretical physicist, who was involved in German nuclear weapons development efforts. He had several opportunities to complete the task, but apparently decided that the Nazis were not making progress on the nuclear front, and there was no need to kill Heisenberg; nor was there a need for Berg to swallow the cyanide capsule.

After the war, President Harry Truman awarded Berg the Medal of Freedom, the highest civilian honor bestowed during wartime - Truman’s citation read:

"Mr. Morris Berg, United States Civilian, rendered exceptionally meritorious service of high value to the war effort from April 1944 to January 1946. In a position of responsibility in the European Theater, he exhibited analytical abilities and a keen planning mind. He inspired both respect and constant high level of endeavor on the part of his subordinates which enabled his section to produce studies and analysis vital to the mounting of American operations."

Curiously, Berg refused to accept the award, without explanation.

Allow me to go on record right now to indicate that, if, say, the National Society of Newspaper Columnists were to award me their highest honor (in peacetime or wartime), I would graciously accept it.

And, no, Mr. Bob Uecker, because he was not the Commander in Chief, Johnny Carson was not empowered to issue a similar proclamation or award you with something along the lines of “Most Distinguished Late Night TV Talk Show Guest.” Neither would he have been allowed to deliver such an award to Don Rickles, Joan Embery, or Carol Wayne. Sorry, pal, you’ll have to settle for “Most Mediocre Major League Baseball Catcher.” And, there’s no medal. But, you can definitely sit in the front row.

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