All longtime baseball fans remember those two greats, Stan (the Man) Musial and Enos (Country) Slaughter. They were far from look-alikes during their rookie years. Who could ever forget those glorious years when Musial put in with the St. Louis Cardinals? Who could ever forget the dash for the winning World Series run by Slaughter of the Redbirds when he scored from first base on a single to left field. That feat probably lives forever in the Boston Red Sox Hall Of Infamy. Older KC baseball fans unquestionably remember Slaughter's hustle during that brief period with the Kansas City Athletics.
But how did they treat the rookies around them?
I met Stan Musial in early spring 1950. We shook hands and exchanged pleasantries in the massive mahogany paneled office of Fred Saigh, owner of the St. Louis Cardinals.
I was there to sign my contract and board a southbound train for pre-camp drills. Overwhelmed probably best described my feelings when Stan (we're now on a first name basis) invited me and Runt Marr, the scout who signed me, to have dinner with him and Chuck Deering, a Cardinal outfielder.
The dinner was a distant second to watching him greet fans and sign autographs. I was pleased to see I had picked not only a great baseball player but a truly super person as my hero.
The telephone in my hotel room was busy that night. I called many relatives and friends to tell them of my good fortune. Four years would pass before I again came in contact with MusialÑspring training 1954, with the St. Louis Cardinals in St. Petersburg, Florida.
I was one of seven rookies pushed back in the far reaches of the clubhouse. It made little difference. Having struggled to reach that level, we would have dressed on the roof if necessary.
"The Man" would come back to the rookie area at least every other day and ask how we were doing.
The best was yet to come. Musial ambled over to where I was involved in a pepper game and asked if he could get in. I still like to say I replied, "Sorry Stan, we don't have room. Try the guys over by the dugout." In reality, after the initial shock wore off I stammered, "Sure, Mr. Musial." I don't think any of us missed a ball after he got in.
I was nearby several times when a representative of Topps Bubble Gum Company offered Musial several thousand dollars to sign with them. He refused, saying he just wasn't interested.
Fifty dollars made me happy. Added to the meal money furnished by the club, I ate well for a few weeks. An arm injury made sure I wouldn't receive the hundred dollar option for the following year.
In the same clubhouse was one of the most aggressive personalities to ever play the game. One Enos (Country) Slaughter. He would eventually be inducted into the Hall of Fame. I'm sure if he took an empathy test the needle would remain flat. He was the type who would walk into the clubhouse, throw a couple of pairs of spikes back in the corner and yell, "Clean these up you rookie (expletive)s!" He apparently absorbed the Leo Durocher theory. Nice guys finish last.
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.