The Omaha ball club sent some good players to the major leagues, notably, Larry Jackson, a right-handed pitcher who toiled for years with the Cardinals and Cubs, and Wally Moon, who played with the Cardinals and Dodgers.
Moon couldn't hit minor league pitching but was National League Rookie of the Year with the Cardinals. Traded to the Dodgers, he became a sensation, hitting home runs in the Coliseum band box where the Dodgers played while waiting for Chavez Ravine to become Dodger Stadium.
Moon and the Dodgers were so popular, song lyrics were altered to fit the stituation. Remember when they begin the Ravine. "Shine on Wally Moon" was one of the refrains to be heard on a regular basis.
The player I remember best went to the majors as a manager and became one of the most successful managers of all time. In the minors, this player was a second baseman, diminutive but very vocal and demonstrative.
If desire and hustle were prerequisites for success, he would have been a shoo-in for the Hall of Fame. As a 22-year-old he knew more about the game than most of us would at age 40. Screw up and he let you know about it.
"You rookie so-and-so. Throw the pitch where you're supposed to. You want to play at this level the rest of your career?"
That aggressiveness carried over into his personal life. A nickel and dime poker game in a Sioux City, Iowa, hotel helps recall one of my favorite stories about him. A young sailor walked by the open door, looked in and asked if he could join the game. Normally we wouldn't let an outsider in, but someone said, "Sure, come on in."
Two or three hours later he got up to leave, along with quite a bit of our money. Up jumps our second baseman, blocks the door and says, "I think you were cheating. We want our money back." Under the circumstances the sailor had no choice but return his winnings. Maybe he was cheating.
Story ended? Not quite. Several weeks later at the stadium in Omaha an usher delivered a note to the second baseman. It said a young sailor and several of his friends would like to see him after the game. I never did know how late Earl Weaver stayed in the clubhouse that night.
Leavenworth Times sports writer Jim Tibbetts and Sid Bordman, former Kansas City Star writer and an official scorer for the Royals, were swapping stories in the 1990s when Tibbetts asked Bordman if he remembered Wolf Montgomery.
"Yes, I remember him," Bordman said. "We had a local baseball team here in KC many years ago, and we played Montgomery's team. He sure could throw hard." That opinion was shared by Bill Young, former Leavenworth High School track coach. "We got up a team of Lansing boys one time and played Montgomery's team," Young recalled. "We figured that the Bain City team wouldn't have much. We couldn't even touch him."
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.