https://www.detroitathletic.com/blog/2016/06/03/remembering-dick-mcauliffe/
Remembering the late great Dick McAuliffe.
Detroit Athletic
Along with Norm Cash and Bill Freehan and Willie Horton, Dick McAuliffe was one of my favorite Detroit Tigers, particularly from those postseason teams of 1968 and 1972. I?ve always liked him, dating back to my earliest days as a fan, around 1971 or ?72. In trying to figure out why, it probably had little to do with my knowledge of baseball in the early 1970s. I was still too young to appreciate the nuances the game, the value of walks, the ability to turn the double play, or the willingness to take the extra base. Those were all aspects of the game in which McAuliffe excelled, but my appreciation of those things would come much later.
I think that I initially liked McAuliffe for two reasons. First, there was his last name: McAuliffe. That always sounded like a cool name to me. I would have loved to have a last name like McAuliffe. And then there was his 1973 Topps card, shown here. It is the only Topps card in which McAuliffe is shown in actual game action. It?s one of my favorite cards from the action-filled 1973 set. The card gives us a full view of the Tigers? road uniform that was used through the 1971 season (meaning that the photo used was at least two years old). We also notice McAuliffe choking up on the handle of the bat, in a way that few hitters do today. And even though we only see McAuliffe?s face from the side, we can still detect a bit of a grimace on his face as he waits for the next pitch to be delivered. For a player who embodied grit, toughness, and maximum effort?a player whom teammates fondly called ?Mad Dog??the grimace is the perfect expression for the card.
One aspect of McAuliffe?s game that is not evident on this card is his unusual batting stance. Batting out of such an open stance that he appeared to directly face the pitcher, he also held his bat way above his head, like Carl Yastrzemski and Bobby Tolan used to do. As the pitcher began his delivery, McAuliffe lowered his bat and closed his stance, kicking his right leg toward the mound. It was a stance that made you wonder how he could hit anything, but it worked for the feisty second baseman.
The memories of this 1973 Topps card bubbled up last month, when I heard the news that McAuliffe had died. The news was not unexpected; it had been well known for years that McAuliffe was suffering from Alzheimer?s disease, the same affliction that took Jim Northrup from us. But even when a death is anticipated, it doesn?t completely cushion the blow. Not when it involves a favorite player.
We tend to remember McAuliffe as a second baseman, but he actually came to the major leagues as a shortstop in 1960. The following year, the Tigers used him as a utility infielder, backing up both Chico Fernandez at shortstop and Steve Boros at third base. His first taste of second base did not come until 1962, when he became a semi-regular, appearing in 139 games, but splitting his time between second, short, and third. The constant movement from one position to another affected his defensive play, resulting in 30 errors, but the Tigers loved his bat. McAuliffe hit 12 home runs, drew 64 walks, and reached base nearly 35 per cent of the time. Some skeptics wondered about his wide-open batting stance, which he had adopted in the lower minor leagues, but it produced favorable results against American League pitching.
In 1963, McAuliffe came to spring training without a regular job, seemingly destined for another summer of being a super utilityman. But the Tigers alleviated the logjam in May, when they traded Fernandez, clearing shortstop for McAuliffe. Settling into his new role, he put up nearly identical numbers to what he had done in 1962, while showing improvement as a defender at the infield?s toughest position.
McAuliffe?s game exploded in 1964, when he appeared in all 162 games, an extremely difficult task given the physical demands of the shortstop position. He clubbed a career-high 24 home runs, drew 77 walks, and lifted his OPS to .762. Defensively, he struggled, committing a league-high 32 errors, but the Tigers were willing to accept the deficiency in light of his offensive contributions.
In 1965, injuries limited McAuliffe to 113 games, but when he played, he remained an effective hitter. He also earned the first All-Star nod of his career. It would mark the first of three consecutive All-Star Game selections for the power-hitting middle infielder, who was gaining respect throughout the league for his constant hustle and his gritty determination.
In 1966, McAuliffe put up his best all-around offensive season. As the Tigers? quietly effective leadoff man, he continued to draw walks and hit with power, but also lifted his batting average to .274. He posted an OPS of .882, by far the best mark of his career. In an age where it was hard to find good hitters at nearly any position, McAuliffe was giving the Tigers an offensive boost from a position that was supposed to showcase defense first, and hitting second.
Then came a major change in 1967. Dissatisfied with an aging Jerry Lumpe at second base, and hoping to improve their middle infield defense, the Tigers shifted McAuliffe from short to second, and inserted the slick-fielding Ray Oyler at shortstop. The move lessened the stress on McAuliffe, whose range was stretched at shortstop and was far better suited to second base. As a hitter, he became even more patient at the plate. He coaxed 105 walks, which made up for the drop in his batting average, which rested at .239. He continued to hit with power, hitting 22 home runs and seven triples.
All in all, it was a fine season for McAuliffe but it came to a bittersweet ending when he grounded into a game-ending double play on the final day of the season, allowing the Boston Red Sox to clinch the pennant. But one could hardly blame McAuliffe, who had grounded into only two double plays all season long.
The disappointment of 1967 would soon give way to the triumph of 1968. On an individual basis, McAuliffe failed to make the All-Star team for the first time in four years, but the sportswriters dubbed him the seventh most valuable player in the American League MVP race. This time McAuliffe didn?t hit into a double play all season and even more importantly, scored 95 runs out of the leadoff spot. With McAuliffe setting the table, the Tigers emerged as a juggernaut, eventually running away with the pennant in September.
That season did not come and go without some controversy. In late August, the Tigers faced the Chicago White Sox. Tommy John threw a series of up-and-in pitches toward McAuliffe, upsetting the no-nonsense infielder. Knowing that John had good control and likely would not have been unintentionally wild, McAuliffe voiced his displeasure with the sinkerballer. The two men exchanged words, igniting a bench-clearing brawl. McAuliffe?s knee connected with John?s shoulder, separating it and forcing him to the sidelines for the rest of the season. For his part, McAuliffe received a five-game suspension, which the Tigers felt was grossly unfair. Manager Mayo Smith noted that John had already hit several Tigers batters earlier that season.
None of the Tigers were surprised that McAuliffe challenged John. ?We had a lot of fights in those days,? Jim Price told the Detroit Free Press when he learned of McAuliffe?s passing, ?and Mad Dog was right there. Not mean at all. But you do him wrong from another team, they had to pay the price.?
By October, the tempest with the White Sox had died down. Playing in his first World Series, McAuliffe had a fairly quiet Fall Classic, hitting only .222. But as usual, he continued to produce in other ways, drawing four walks, hitting a home run, and playing flawless defense at second base. Mickey Lolich and Al Kaline garnered most of the headlines, but McAuliffe did his share in lifting the Tigers to their first World Series title since 1945.
Like many of the Tigers, McAuliffe struggled through a subpar 1969. He missed a large portion of the season because of an injured knee, which required surgery. He appeared in only 74 games, forcing the Tigers to use utilityman Ike Brown at second base over the second half of the summer.
McAuliffe bounced back in 1970. Regaining his health, he drew 101 walks and reached base nearly 36 per cent of the time. He also showed some versatility by filling in at shortstop and third base. The following summer, the Tigers turned to a new manager in Billy Martin. McAuliffe started the season as the everyday second baseman, but his batting average fell below .200. By August, he was being platooned with the newly acquired Tony Taylor. For the season, McAuliffe?s batting fell off badly, as he hit a career-low .208.
McAuliffe would hit better over the next two seasons, but remained in the platoon role for what turned out to be his final two seasons in Detroit. In 1972, he and Eddie Brinkman formed one of the league?s better double play combinations, helping the Tigers win the American League East title in a strike-shortened regular season.
By the end of the 1973 season, McAuliffe realized that the end of his career was also near. So he asked the Tigers to trade him to a team on the East Coast, closer to his home in Connecticut. It was a decision that he would later regret, when he realized that he should have remained in Detroit all along. That October, the Tigers obliged his trade request, sending McAuliffe to the Boston Red Sox for a young Ben Oglivie. McAuliffe appeared in 100 games for Boston in 1974, but a lack of hitting resulted in him losing the second base job to Doug Griffin.
After the season, the Red Sox offered McAuliffe a job managing at Double-A Bristol. Now 34 years old, McAuliffe took the job, leading the team to a successful minor league run in 1974. But in August, Sox third baseman Rico Petrocelli went down with inner ear trouble. The Red Sox asked McAuliffe he if he was in good enough shape to play. McAuliffe fibbed, telling management that he had lost seven pounds since he last played, but in reality he was not ready to resume his career. Still, he joined the Red Sox, appearing in seven games as a fill-in third baseman. The Red Sox chose not to include him on their postseason roster for 1975, once again ending his playing career.
Opting not to return to the Red Sox? farm system as a manager, McAuliffe opened his own baseball school, where he coached youngsters on the fundamentals of the game. Later on, he took over a business that specialized in the repair and sales of coin operated laundry equipment, a position that became quite lucrative. After about ten years, he retired to a life of playing golf and appearing at card shows.
It?s hard to imagine that someone like McAuliffe could ever retire, given the passion and fury with which he played the game. ?He didn?t like losing,? Mickey Lolich told the Detroit News in reacting to McAuliffe?s death. ?He?d get mad after an at-bat, come back to the bench, throw his bat sometimes into the rack and toss down his helmet, and we sort of looked at each other and said: ?Well, he?s sort of [ticked] off.? There was a blood-and-guts guy who played and loved to win. And he didn?t fear anyone.?
Like too many of the 1968 Tigers (including Cash, Oyler, Northrup, Gates Brown, Earl Wilson, Joe Sparma, and Pat Dobson), McAuliffe is gone now. For a fan like me, who never had the chance to meet or interview McAuliffe, that makes the situation particularly sad.
Thankfully, I still have that 1973 Topps card?and the good memories that an all-out gamer like Dick McAuliffe created along the way.
