Interviewing Sam Mele; Player, Manager and Scout for 46 years

Sabath “Sam” Mele was the nephew of 15-year major-leaguer Tony and one-year major-leaguer Al Cuccinello.

An outfielder, Mele broke in with the Red Sox in 1947 and played for five other teams in a 10-year career before managing the Minnesota Twins 1961-1967.

He then scouted for the Red Sox for 25 years.

We met one afternoon in 1994 in the deserted press/scouts dining room at Oriole Park in Baltimore. - Norman L. Macht

Mele’s Early Career in Baseball

I got a good education in baseball from my mother’s brothers, Al and Tony Cuccinello, growing up in Astoria, New York.

Tony used to bring his good buddy Al Lopez to the house and just listening in, you had to pick up something.

One day I was playing Queens Alliance ball and I was hitting good and thought I was a big shot. Then, in a doubleheader, I was 0 for 13.

I came home and threw my uniform on the kitchen floor and said, “I quit.” My mother chewed me out, then she called Uncle Tony and he chewed me out, told me he went 0 for 32 one time and still played.

Then she called Uncle Al and he chewed me out. “No way are you going to quit this game..”

Uncle Tony was my agent. He knew this Red Sox scout, Neal Mahoney. They took me to the Hotel Commodore in New York to see (Red Sox owner) Tom Yawkey.

I was about to go into the service, so they offered me $5,000, half then and the rest when I got out.  Tony was with the Boston Braves then, so I worked out with them. But they couldn’t match the Sox offer, so I signed. 

I was in the Marines stationed at Pearl Harbor and played against major leaguers in pickup games, which helped me in the long run.

I got out in ’46 and started at Louisville but wound up in Scranton, where I led the league and we won the pennant by 18 games. In ’47 I was with the Red Sox, playing right field alongside Dom DiMaggio.

Learning from Legends

He had to cover a lot of ground between me and Ted Williams.

I learned a lot about playing baseball on the train rides. I’d sit and talk hitting with Ted Williams and when you got up from him you thought you could be the greatest hitter in the world.

Then he’d say, “If you want to know anything about fielding, go over to Dom DiMaggio.”

I learned a lot from Dom, not just about fielding.

Baseball player, manager and scout Sam Mele

On my first road trip, we were at the Ben Franklin Hotel in Philadelphia and I’m sitting in a corner, not knowing what to do, and I saw all the players at the front desk getting the keys to their rooms.

Then DiMaggio came by and said to me, “Okay, rookie, get the bags.” I didn’t know what he meant. Then I found out I was rooming with him and in those days the rookies carried the bags.

I learned he kept a book on every pitcher in the league – what he threw, when he threw it, and on the catchers, too. He was a tremendous player and friend.

Practising the Fundamentals

In those days we worked on fundamentals in a way you don’t see much anymore.  We practised hitting the cutoff man and throwing to bases.

They sent me out to right field and hit balls off the fence at Fenway. When Williams was hurt and I had to fill in in left field, they hit balls off the green monster so I could learn to play the caroms.

At Yankee Stadium they would roll balls along the fence so I would learn how to play the bounces.

You worked at it so you wouldn’t look bad out there and maybe get sat down for a few games because you made a silly mistake.

Later, when I managed in Minnesota, I had Billy Martin and Jim Lemon as coaches and they were excellent guys.

If they had a guy practice something 99 times and the guy complained, they’d tell him, “You’re going to do it 100 times or 150 until you get it right.”

They helped me win because they worked to cut down the mistakes in execution. 

After hitting .302 in ’47, I played only 66 games in ‘48. I don’t know why. Joe McCarthy was the manager. He traded me to Washington.

Clark Griffith wasn’t as cheap a club owner as they say; he paid what he could afford and had no other business behind him. The concessions income paid the players’ salaries.

On to Chicago where I played with Nellie Fox.

He was not a .300 hitter until Paul Richards got hold of him and taught him how to bunt toward third base with a backspin so the ball dropped dead before it got to the third baseman.

Absolutely Hall of Fame caliber.

Minnie Minoso was one of the best all-around players I ever played with. He did everything a ballplayer could be asked to do: throw guys out, take extra bases, break up double plays, play outfield or third base, get hit by a pitch to get on base.

Mele’s days as a scout

After my playing days were over, I scouted for Calvin Griffith at Washington until he called me to become a coach. I moved with them to Minnesota in 1961.

Cookie Lavagetto was the manager. He had an operation and missed seven games and I managed the team until he came back.

Ten days later I get a call from Griffith to come to his office and wear a shirt and tie. I had no idea what was going on. 

He said, “Have you ever thought about managing?” 

“I guess every player thinks about it.” 

“Analyze the players because I may make a change in a couple weeks.”

All of a sudden he gets on the phone trying to locate Lavagetto to tell him he’s fired that day. He finally finds him and then he opens the door and in comes the New York press.

The Yankees were in town and he must have told them he was going to make a change. Later, when I went into the clubhouse, the first thing Lavagetto said to the press was, “Treat this kid okay.”

Learning from different managers

I played for a lot of managers and picked up something from all of them, but Al Lopez’s voice came back to me most of all. Whenever we played his team I could talk to him after the game.

From him, I learned how to handle players. If a guy needed a boot, you booted him. If he needed a pat on the back, you gave it to him. 

I was pitching Jim Kaat against his club one day and we had a 5-0 lead and suddenly they start hitting little nubbers around the infield and before I know it, the score is tied and I still have Kaat in the game.

Afterwards, I said to Lopez, “What would you have done?”

He said, “Once in a while, you get a game like that and you got to get him out, because the next guy you bring in may not be as good but sometimes line drives may lead to a double play or an out.

Some pitchers can be big winners because when they pitch the line drives seem to be hit right at somebody, where a pitcher with more stuff gets beat by a lot of bleeders.”

The 1965 World Series

I only second-guessed myself once in my life, when I pitched Camilo Pascual in Game 3 of the 1965 World Series.

We were up 2-0 over the Dodgers and I had Jim Merritt, a good lefthander who could make the Dodgers’ switch-hitters bat right-handed, and had a very good move to first base.

The Dodgers had led both leagues with 172 stolen bases. I knew Pascual had a big high kick and if they got on base they would steal on him pretty easily.

But Pascual had been my friend and done a lot of good pitching for me and I felt I owed it to him to let him pitch in a World Series. With my heart, I went with Pascual.

As it turned out, Osteen blanked us, 4-0. There were three stolen bases. I second-guessed myself but I don’t regret it. He had done so much for me and for the Washington-Minnesota team.

After beating Drysdale and Koufax in the first two games, we could do nothing with them in Game 4, which Drysdale won, and Games 5 and 7, in which Koufax shut us out twice. (Dodgers manager Walt)  Alston wasn’t sure who he was going to use in Game 7.

Koufax had two days rest and Drysdale three. Alston took those two guys out of a team meeting and told the others to decide who they wanted to pitch.

They chose Koufax. He didn’t have his best stuff that day, couldn’t get his curve over, and Drysdale was up and down in the bullpen the first three or four innings.

Then Koufax went just to his fastball and changeup, struck out 10, gave up 3 hits, and beat us, 2-0. 

I was fired in June 1967. I don’t know why; there was no particular incident. We were two games below .500 at the time.  In 1965 we had gained 24 wins over 1964. We went from seventh to first.

We did not have the fastest players but we decided to run more. Billy Martin had them running from the start of spring training. Make the other team make mistakes.

Our stolen base totals doubled. We won at least two games with guys on third feinting to steal home and drawing pitchers into throwing wild pitches.

We had a lot of running situations. After winning in ’65 there was no letdown. We worked harder the next spring.

We had the same personnel but we didn’t get as many running situations.  In ’65 all year if we hit a pop fly foul it landed a couple rows up in the stands.

If they hit one it stayed just in the field. The following year those breaks just didn’t fall our way.

Taking things to heart

I had other managing offers, but in a way, I was a little bit happy when I was fired. I had a tough time maintaining an even keel emotionally through a season because I was not a hard-shelled guy.

I would think about things, like if a writer wrote something I didn’t like, and carry them over too long a time, where other guys could put it behind them quicker.

It bothered me when I lost, and when things were written about me that weren’t true – or maybe were true.

The writers who have to sound like experts and knock a guy wonder why the players don’t want to talk to them. I couldn’t tell writers what I thought of them; they had the last say anyhow.

Now I wouldn’t have to put up with that any more.

I had kept in touch with Mr. Yawkey and he had a job for me any time. I went to work for him as a scout immediately after I was fired. I’ve been with them ever since.

As a scout, my best signing was Jim Rice.  Mace Brown took me to watch Rice play a game in Anderson, South Carolina, where Rice was from.

A lot of scouts were there and Rice did not show up for the first few innings. The other scouts figured he didn’t want to play bad enough to show up, so they left.

One scout was with a club that drafted before the Red Sox. Brown and I stayed and Rice showed up and played. After the game, we asked Rice why he was late.

He said he worked at a supermarket and his replacement did not show up on time and he stayed for his boss until the guy showed up.

Because he hadn’t shown up, the team that drafted ahead of us did not take him.

Another time a scout was back of the batting cage watching Rice hit and saw him miss on some curves and decided he couldn’t hit a curve and the scout left, but Mace Brown and I had seen him hit a fastball and figured he could learn to hit a curve.

Houston also drafted before us and their scout had orders to take Rice. But at the last minute Houston decided to take a pitcher instead and that left Rice for us.

At Fenway both Rice and Wade Boggs went out early every day to practice, Rice in left field taking balls off the wall, Boggs taking at least 50 balls at third base before regular practice. I don’t see much of that any more.

I don’t see guys working on their weaknesses, asking for curves or sliders in BP. They want the fastballs so they can hit them 500 feet. 

I was with the Orioles when they returned to the major leagues in 1954. It was very exciting, but I was here only half the year before being traded to Boston.

Now I follow ten teams and try to see them eight or more times a year, at Fenway, Cleveland, and here in Baltimore.

I like to come to Baltimore; the ballpark is good and the people are so nice.