We all know the Yankees had the great Joe D. That is, of course, Joe DiMaggio. The 1952 Omaha Cardinals had a Joe D. of their own. In this case it was Joe DiMartino, a 32-year-old catcher who had spent ten years in the minor leagues. He was an instructor and fill-in catcher in the Cardinals' organization. Joe D. was assigned to Omaha for more than half the season. His hands looked like a cache of old walnuts the squirrels had hidden and couldn't find. A craggy face invited guesses as to the number of dares he took to go behind the plate without a mask. Joe looked older than his years.
It was common practice on the road to seek out a tavern, have a couple of beers and replay each game. Most of the players at this level were between 18 and 22. Some looked their age, some older, some younger. As soon as we determined where we were going, two players went out ahead of the group. One purpose in mind, to bribe the doorman.
"Let all the younger players in without question. But when you come to the old guy, ask for his ID." Each time it happened, Joe D. would (in today's slang) go off. In a very angry, loud voice he would accuse the doorman of being an idiot. "You let kids who look like they are 16 years old walk right in. I look like I'm 40 and you card me. Where's the manager? Where's the owner?"
Joe was catching me in Denver. I went to the bottom of the ninth inning leading 1-0. I don't recall if it was a good night or a lucky night. Walked the leadoff hitter. Erased him on a ground ball force out at second. One on, one out. Number five hitter comes up. Big strong lefty. Joe D. Called for a curve. I shook him off. He came back with the curve. Again I shook him off. Finally in the third sequence he called for a fast ball. That's what I wanted to throw. The instant it left my hand I saw the gleam in the hitter's eyes. He knew what was coming. I quickly turned to see where it was going. I got a glimpse of it, still rising in the thin air, as it left the park. Lost 2-1.
The locker room was beyond the right field wall. I started to walk in that direction. Joe D. caught up with me at the edge of the outfield grass, put his hand on my shoulder and asked, "Did you learn anything tonight, kid?"
No answer required.
"How about a beer after we shower?"
"Sure, Joe. Sure. Maybe something funny will happen."
Thanks to the generosity of Walter's brother Gary, here are some of the stories of Walter Montgomery when he was playing for the Omaha Cardinals.