Hardin
Giving Hitters a Hard Time
by Doug
Brown, The Sporting News, June 22,
1968 (cover story)
BALTIMORE, MD. - For six years,
from sixth through eleventh grades,
Jim Hardin had crouched behind the
plate, minding his own
business. Then on day in the
spring of his senior year in high
school in Memphis, the coach tossed
Hardin a baseball and said,
"Here, you pitch. We
don't have anyone else."
You pitch. You, the guy
who, as a sophomore, made the
All-Memphis second team as a catcher
behind Tim McCarver, today the world
champion Cardinals' receiver.
Yes, you. You pitch.
Hardin got up from behind the plate,
stretched...and pitched.
Fourteen games later - following
an 8-3 record in scholastic
competition and a 3-0 mark in
American Legion ball - Jim Hardin's
name was on a pro contract.
The Mets' initial judgment had
been a shrewd one. It didn't
cost them much, either. The
Mets signed Hardin for what he
labels "a multi-claused $10,000
bonus spread over several
years." You will be
spared an explanation; it's too
complicated.
A Thank-You to
Mets
Less shrewd, however, was the
Mets' next move. They let him
get away. And for that the
Orioles are deeply grateful, for
Hardin is now firmly entrenched as
one of their top starting pitchers.
Recalled last June from Rochester
(International), the 24-year-old
righthander won eight of 11
decisions with the Orioles.
This year, intent on making it clear
his 1967 showing was no mistake, he
led the staff in victories, with
eight.
In between - from the time he was
drafted by the Orioles from the
Mets' Williamsport (Easter) roster
for $12,500 late in 1965 until his
quick start now - a great deal has
happened to James Warren Hardin.
He was spiked - by a former
teammate. He pitched a
no-hitter - against his former
teammates. Then he was
sentenced to the bullpen. He
got a case of "touristas"
in Mexico. He stepped on a
string ray. He got a case of
"touristas," or food
poisoning, in the good old USA.
It all happened within a little
more than a year.
The spiking incident was both
trivial and unintentional. At
the start of his first season in the
Oriole system, 1966, Hardin pitched
Elmira's home opener against his old
club, Williamsport, and was spiked
while covering first base.
Soon afterward, Jim spun a
no-hitter against Williamsport, but
then Elmira Manager Darrell Johnson
shuffled his pitching staff and send
some starters, including Hardin, to
the bullpen, and converted some
relievers into starters.
Relievers Were
Busy
During one stretch, Elmira won
seven in a row and two relievers
were credited with all seven wins -
Hardin, four, and Paul Knechtges,
three. As the season
progressed, the Orioles' Triple-A
club, Rochester, kept summoning
help, but Hardin was not among the
players tapped.
In the fall of '66, he played for
the Orioles' team in the Florida
Instructional League. George
Bamberger, now a Baltimore coach,
then was the organization's minor
league pitching instructor.
"There were only eight
pitchers," Hardin said,
"and George worked with us
daily. He kept saying that if
you don't walk anybody and put the
ball over with something on it,
you'll get the hitters out."
Simple advice, to be sure.
Chances are there isn't a pitcher
alive who hasn't heard it.
"It wasn't the first time I
had heard it, either," Hardin
said. "When I first met
Bamberger at the Orioles' minor
league camp at Fernandina Beach in
the spring of 1966, he told me:
" 'You are not challenging
the hitters. Don't nibble
around the plate. You've got
good enough stuff to challenge
them. Even the good hitters
only get three hits in ten tries.'
"
Trip to Mexican
Loop
In the instructional league,
Bamberger kept telling Hardin the
same thing over and over
again. Jim listened, and he
won all seven of his decisions.
Hardin's confidence rose, so he
went to the Mexican League that
winter, where the competition would
be stiffer, the pressure greater.
On Christmas Eve, he got a case
of what a Mexican doctor diagnosed
as "the touristas."
"In the hospital,"
Hardin said, "I couldn't even
call my manager to tell him I'd miss
my next start. He didn't have
a phone. And I couldn't talk
to anyone except the doctor.
He was the only one in the hospital
who knew English and I saw him only
once a day.
"I tried to tell them to put
the glucose in my left arm,"
continued Hardin, who throws
righthanded, "but I didn't get
through to them. They pit it
in my right.
"After I got out of the
hospital, a vein near where they had
inserted the glucose puffed
up. It was sore. I told
them I could not pitch any more and
went home."
Still, buoyed by his success
under Bamberger the preceding fall,
Hardin strode confidently into the
Orioles' 1967 spring camp in Miami.
The day of the opening exhibition
game, all the pitchers who weren't
scheduled to work that afternoon
were given a holiday. Hardin
heard the bonefish were biting off
nearby Key Biscayne and went out to
see.
Stopping near a sea wall, Hardin
shouted to a youngster, "See
any bonefish?"
"Just caught one," the
boy said.
Hardin pulled on his waders, a
pair of tennis shoes, and walked out
15 feet into the ocean. He
hadn't made his first cast when he
stepped on a sting ray.
"The water was murky and the
sting ray was sandy colored,"
Hardin siad. It was maybe two
feet across."
The creature's sharp, poisonous,
whip-like tail lashed through the
canvas of Jim's sneaker, through his
rubber wader and into his
food. The pitcher hopped
ashore, climbed up the sea wall and
removed his wader. It was full
of blood.
Fortunately, there was a hospital
at the entrance to Key
Biscayne. But Jim limped
around in shower shoes the next
eight days. When he returned
to camp it was like starting all
over again. He was included in
the first squad out.
Hardin started the season with
Rochester as a reliever, retiring
seven straight batters in his first
appearance. By the time he was
promoted to a starter, his record
was 3-0
The Search for
Aid
In Baltimore, meantime, the
Orioles had a pitching crisis.
Player Personnel Director Harry
Dalton and scout Jim Russo joined
the Rochester team, looking for
help.
Hardin obliged by hurling a 3-0
shutout against Columbus. A
few nights later, before the Orioles
reached a decision, Hardin and
teammate Steve Demeter dined
together, ordering identical things.
At 3 a.m. Jim woke up,
shaking. He felt cold one
moment, hot the next. It was a
case of "the touristas"
again. Oddly Demeter felt
fine.
Hardin missed his next pitching
turn, but Dalton and Russo had seen
enough. "The Orioles need
a pitcher," Rochester Manager
Earl Weaver told Hardin.
"I think you're going to
Baltimore."
Shortly, Weaver said, "It's
you. Pack your
bags." Hardin, 5-3 at the
time, thanked Weaver and went home
to pack for the trip he had dreamed
about for years.
Birds Grabbed
Jim Despite So-So-Log
BALTIMORE, Md. - If you insist on
knowing Oriole pitcher Jim Hardin's
record during his first two season
in pro ball, you'll have to take his
word for it.
His records for 1962 and '63
aren't included in the Oriole press
guide.
Perhaps it's just as well.
They were losing season.
"I didn't have a winning
season until I got married in
January, 1964," he said.
"Donna deserves all the
credit."
Donna's magic worked during the
1964 season (7-4_, but not the next
(5-10). She regained her touch
in 1966 (8-2) and kept it through
last season, when Jim was 5-3 with
Rochester and 80-3 with the Orioles.
