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One player you'd like to go back in history (1 Viewer)

Doctor Detroit

Please remove your headgear
If there's one guy I could go back in history to watch, it'd be Roberto Clemente.
Mine would definitely be Ty Cobb although Joe DiMaggio would interesting due to some thinking he was as good or better in CF than Willie Mays. I'd like to see if that was true.
 
This is going to sound weird coming from me, but... Ted Williams. Without a doubt.

Ted Williams and Wade Boggs had been talking nonstop from the time they left Winter Haven, Fla. 70 minutes earlier. The two batting champions were on their way to a rendezvous with yet another, Don Mattingly, when Williams, in the backseat, posed a question to Boggs, who was in the front."Have you ever smelled the smoke from the wood of your bat burning?" asked Williams in a voice not unlike that of John Wayne."Whaaat?" said Boggs."The smell of the smoke from the wood burning?""What are you talking about, Ted? I don't understand.""Five or six times, hitting against a guy with good stuff, I swung hard and—oomph—just fouled it back. Really hit it hard. And I smelled the wood of the bat burning. It must have been that the seams hit the bat just right, and the friction caused it to burn, but it happened five or six times."Boggs shook his head. "Awesome."
Pitcher would be Sandy Koufax.
 
This is going to sound weird coming from me, but... Ted Williams. Without a doubt.

Ted Williams and Wade Boggs had been talking nonstop from the time they left Winter Haven, Fla. 70 minutes earlier. The two batting champions were on their way to a rendezvous with yet another, Don Mattingly, when Williams, in the backseat, posed a question to Boggs, who was in the front."Have you ever smelled the smoke from the wood of your bat burning?" asked Williams in a voice not unlike that of John Wayne."Whaaat?" said Boggs."The smell of the smoke from the wood burning?""What are you talking about, Ted? I don't understand.""Five or six times, hitting against a guy with good stuff, I swung hard and—oomph—just fouled it back. Really hit it hard. And I smelled the wood of the bat burning. It must have been that the seams hit the bat just right, and the friction caused it to burn, but it happened five or six times."Boggs shook his head. "Awesome."
Pitcher would be Sandy Koufax.
:goodposting: The exact same two players I was thinking of.
 
Aside from all the obvious to be named, I will toss out Joe Sewell.

Kinda cool to watch someone come to bat over 550 times in a season and strike out only 4 times.

Dude had over about 8k plate appearances and struck out 114 times in his career.

Several players are close to 114 by ONE ALL STAR BREAK!!!!!

 
Bob Feller.

Ted Williams called Feller "the fastest and best pitcher I ever saw during my career", and Stan Musial believed he was "probably the greatest pitcher of our era."
 
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Would like to see way more than one.

Pitchers- Koufax,Juan Marichal, a young Nolan Ryan. Love to see Vida Blue again in his first couple of seasons.

Position players- Cobb because I never seen him play. Williams because I would like to see the best hitter that ever was. Would also love to see a young Willie Mays.

Others only because they were my uncle from Clevelands favorites. Bob Feller, Sudden Sam McDowell.

 
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#1 answer has to be Babe Ruth.

Josh Gibson

Ty Cobb

Willie Mays

Michael Jordan

Ted Williams

Bob Gibson

Mickey Mantle

 
Bob Feller.

Ted Williams called Feller "the fastest and best pitcher I ever saw during my career", and Stan Musial believed he was "probably the greatest pitcher of our era."
I remember waiting in line for about an hour for his autograph back in the late 80s. When I was only one away from it being my turn I got to experience Feller being very rude to the little boy in front of me, so I walked out of line not wanting his autograph.If I could pick one player to go back in history to watch it would have been Satchel Paige.
 
Babe Ruth- I still dont understand how he was so good compared to everyone else in his era. And not only that but his #s still dwarf modern players #s as well. I just dont understand how thats possible.

 
Rube Waddell would be in my top five. I figure if I get to see Cobb play I'd get Waddell, Joss, Three Fingers Sam Crawford, Big Train and Tris Speaker too. I'd go back for five years or so. :mellow:

 
Babe Ruth- I still dont understand how he was so good compared to everyone else in his era. And not only that but his #s still dwarf modern players #s as well. I just dont understand how thats possible.
:goodposting: He's the obvious answer but justifiably so IMO. Honus Wagner is a close 2nd for me.Pete Alexander is my pitcher of choice. Served in WWI where he was wounded and suffered subsequent seizures which, presumably, continued for the rest of his career. Over half of his dominant career came after that. He was also a massive booze hound, threw a few shutout innings in game 7 of the 1926 World Series after pitching a CG in game 6 and spending the night drinking.
 
The Babe or Jackie Robinson are my two picks, though there are tons of Hall of Famers I wish I could have seen play.

 
Satchel Paige was 59 and pitching in MLB. How can you not wonder how he would have been at 27?

12-10 at 46.

Paige had insane #'s against the top black athletes of the time. Not playing basketball or football.

Not close IMO.

 
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If only one: Rabbit Maranville

Coming in second: Billy Hamilton

Pitcher to watch: Ed Walsh or Walter Johnson

 
Wow. Hmmm...so many I'd want to see.

1. Bob Feller

2. Babe Ruth

3. Walter Johnson

4. Stan Musial

5. Roberto Clemente

6. Ted Williams

7. pre-1975 Nolan Ryan

8. Juan Marichal

 
Came in here to say Roberto Clemente. Would have also loved to have seen Ernie Banks, Ron Santo and Billie Williams. But Clemente is the one that always sticks out in my mind.

 
Satchel Paige

Christy Mathewson
Matty was a grand one1915 is a season many Giants fans would like to forget but I have more memories of it than some of the years where we won the pennant. I had started to make a point of reading the papers and paid attention to what they wrote and how it was different from things I saw with my own eyes. The New York club wasn’t changed too much from the team that had finished second to Boston the year before. Al Demaree went to Philadelphia for Hans Lobert but the skipper brought in Pol Perritt as a replacement arm. They all said Lobert was the best Giants third sacker since Art Devlin and would surely put us over the top. Every team had lost some players to the Federal League. We all loved Doc Crandall and his wisecracks but he hardly ever pitched more than two innings at a time. It wasn’t the best Giants team ever built but everybody thought we were plenty good enough to win if the breaks went our way.

The Giants broke from the gate slowly and didn’t even their record until August the 4th. McGraw gathered the team together on the train from Philadelphia to Chicago and told us the season was not lost. If we could make up just one game a week versus the leaders, we could hoist another flag in October. But the Giants never pulled closer to the front than that. It got so bad McGraw punched the clubhouse wall after another loss to Boston but even that made no difference. All that came from it was a bruised fist and a hole in the wall. The team had no big problems as far as I could see; it was all a bunch of little things that added up: a hit here, an error there, more losses than wins and another quiet train ride to the next city. The scribes wrote stories about how all the innings had taken their toll on Christy Mathewson. Matty wasn’t the same man who had always given the Giants a good chance to win when it was his turn on the hill. His fastball had not been the fastest in the league for some time now but now even his famous fadeaway pitch that had baffled hitters for many a year neither faded nor baffled so much.

As the season wound down, the boys all knew the games meant nothing in the standings but the skipper still treated every one like the championship. McGraw was hardly ever happy to begin with and grew sorer with every loss. It got that he was wound up just as tight off the field as during the ball games. By the time we played Brooklyn on Labor Sunday, the Giants were closer to last place than to first. Matty had only won five games all season, which in days of yore would have been a good month’s work for him. But with him and Jeff Tesreau hurling that day I reckon I liked our chances better than average, no matter what the records said. Brooklyn was playing better than the Giants for once and a crowd turned out because of the holiday. The mob atop Coogan’s Bluff was as big as I’d seen all year. Wheezer Dell out dueled Tesreau in the opener but that did not deter our rooters. Matty took the mound to a tremendous cheer and brought his fingers to the brim of his cap in salute. He kept the Robins from scoring through seven while Fletcher and Burns were plated for the home side. But in the eighth, Brooklyn loaded the bags with one away. Up stepped the young Brooklyn outfielder Stengel who had already hit safely three times that afternoon. Even in those days, Stengel was a pepper pot who chattered away whether his team was ahead or behind. Before he settled in, he barked out to Matty roll another slow one to me Chris and I’ll send you home to be tucked in early. Now Matty always kept silent when he pitched so he paid no attention to Stengel’s words. But Chief Meyers, who had caught every one of Matty’s games for years, stood up, removed his basket and yelled loud enough for both benches to hear, that’s Christy Mathewson, the finest pitcher alive. Those who love the game will speak his name forever. Stengel said nothing in return but you could tell he was thinking as he tapped the plate with his bat and settled into his stance. Just as Matty began his wind-up, Stengel spit in the dirt and hollered out to nobody in particular, nothing in baseball lasts forever, and with that, hit a shot to right that bounced off Burns’ glove and rolled to the fence. Three runs crossed the dish and Stengel stood on third. The skipper came to fetch Matty and bring on Rube Schauer. The cheers weren’t nearly as loud as when Matty started the game but I doubt he heard anything as he walked off the field.

It was truly a sorry scene in the clubhouse that day. The boys had failed to score again and to a man, looked more defeated than at any time during the long season. Matty sat sadly in front of his locker. His right arm which had struck out many a National League hitter in his time hung limply at his side, while he sipped from a tin cup of water held in his left hand. He hardly looked like the great man who an hour earlier stood at the center of the diamond and twirled like the Matty of old. George Burns who had just missed catching Stengel’s drive came up to Matty and said I’d make that catch nine time out of ten. Let us go on to Pittsburgh and you’ll get them next time out. But Matty just sat and stared. He knew as we all did that the Big Six had passed and it was only a matter of time until we caught sight of its caboose.

 
I wish we had the instant highlight and television coverage that exists today when Jackie Robinson played. Never presented with the opportunity to be at one of his games.

 

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