Between 1995, when Mike Schmidt was inducted into the Hall of Fame, and the dawn of the recent "Steroid Era," when baseball's biggest names were as likely to appear before Congress as they were to play in the All-Star Game, our national pastime has devolved into a national punch line. Even though the past two years have witnessed the Red Sox' finally putting an end to the Curse of the Bambino and the White Sox' bringing a championship to the South Side of Chicago for the first time in eighty-seven years, the sad truth is that the 2005 and 2006 seasons may be remembered as much for the league's scandals and blockbuster free-agent signings as they are for historic accomplishments on the field. Something has gone horribly wrong with the game, and according to Schmidt, it's time to do something about it. Clearing the Bases is a much-needed call to arms by one of baseball's most respected players. Drawing on his experiences as a third baseman, a manager, and, most recently, a fan, Schmidt takes on everything from skyrocketing payrolls, callous owners, and unapproachable players to inflated statistics, and, of course, ersatz home run kings. With bold and spirited counsel, Schmidt offers his own prescription for restoring integrity to the game and bringing baseball back, once and for all, to its rightful place. More than just an old-timer's screed against the modern game, however, Clearing the Bases goes beyond the BALCO investigation and never-ending free-agent bonanzas that dominate the back pages. It also examines all that's right -- and what still needs work -- with our national pastime, including interleague play, expansion, and, most surprisingly, better all-around hitters. Riveting, wise, and illuminating, Clearing the Bases is a Hall of Famer's look at how Major League Baseball has lost its way and how it can head back home.

INTRODUCTION Take Me Out to a Ball Game

1

(120)

1 A Simple Game

7

(14)

2 United, We Stood

21

(18)

3 The Best of Times

39

(16)

4 Turn Out the Lights

55

(8)

5 All Good Things

63

(8)

6 The Worst of Times

71

(10)

7 Looking for an Edge

81

(6)

8 Finding the Abyss

87

(16)

9 Better Than Ever

103

(18)

10 The Boom-Boom Years

121

(18)

11 Deck the Hall

139

(12)

12 What About Pete?

151

(14)

13 Summer School

165

(20)

14 Still the Best Game in Town

185

(12)

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

197

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Clearing the Bases
Juiced Players, Monster Salaries, Sham Records, and a Hall of Famer's Search for the Soul of Baseball

Chapter One

A Simple Game

It was a bright yellow 1971 Corvette Sting Ray fastback, and the asking price was just under $10,000. That little beauty, the car I'd dreamed of my whole life growing up in Dayton, Ohio, would eat up nearly a third of the $32,500 signing bonus I got for being selected by the Phillies in the second round of the 1971 draft. But what was money for? To spend, baby! I had to have it.

As a young athlete I was pretty good in all sports, with baseball playing second fiddle to basketball. But because of two knee operations before I turned eighteen, my basketball dreams ended early, and no college had serious interest in me as a baseball player.

My senior year in high school, I took a liking to one course, drafting. Using a T-square and a triangle to create working drawings lit my fire, and the best architectural college around was Ohio University. Coincidentally, OU also had the best baseball program around. So off I went to become an architect and to try out for the freshman baseball team. Little did I know what lay ahead of me.

Only one major league scout, Tony Lucadello, of the Phillies, even knew I was alive. Tony had been following me since I was in Little League. Keep in mind, now, I wasn't a big prospect. I was never all-city or all-state. I wasn't even offered a college scholarship. Still, there were a couple of guys who kept me in their back pocket, and Tony was one of them. Tony saw me play from time to time, but always kept a low profile when he was there. Sometimes he'd watch from his car in the parking lot, or alone on a hill overlooking the field. He knew I was going up to Ohio University to study architecture and play ball, but he also knew that if anybody could develop me as a player, it was OU's Bob Wren, one of the best baseball coaches in college ball. First, of course, I had to make the freshman team.

I won't bore you with details of my college life, but those four years at Ohio University set the stage for all that has followed. College is where I became a man, and a serious baseball prospect.

Suffice it to say, my baseball life came together my sophomore year. Rich McKinney, Ohio's all-everything shortstop, signed a pro contract, and I was next in line at the position. Coach Wren gave me a shot at the job in the fall, knowing he'd always have other options come spring. The experiment worked. I was all-conference that year, and all-American the following two seasons. All of a sudden I was on a lot of scouts' lists. I went off to college as an utter unknown; I left as a projected first-round pick. Not too shabby for a walk-on.

Now, back in 1971, the major league baseball annual amateur draft wasn't any big deal, at least not to the general public. No TV coverage, very little in the newspapers. But it was plenty big around my house, I can tell you that. The Phillies had a lousy record in 1970, so they had the sixth pick in 1971, and they used it to take Roy Thomas, a right-handed pitcher. They took me with their first pick in the second round, number 30 overall.

Some pretty good ballplayers came out of that 1971 draft. Guys like Frank Tanana (13), Rick Rhoden (20), and Ron Guidry (65). Oh, yeah, and there was a California kid just out of high school who was taken by the Royals right before me at number 29 -- fellow by the name of George Brett.

Right there, in June 1971, came my first big break in baseball, not so much because of who took me but because of who didn't. You see, a local Orioles scout named Jack Baker had me at the top of his prospects list. Lucky for me, though, he couldn't persuade his bosses back in Baltimore to take me. I was a shortstop at the time I was drafted, but I'd soon be moved to third. Just imagine trying to break in behind Brooks Robinson, who was coming off his tenth straight All-Star season and had four more ahead of him!

The Phillies sent Tony Lucadello to my home in Dayton, Ohio, to get my name on a contract. I'll never forget him sitting in our living room with my father and me, saying "Mr. Paul Owens has instructed me to offer you $25,000 if you'll sign this contract." ($25,000! To play baseball!) But my father would have none of that. Actually, he told Tony to go home and come back with more money, much as Scott Boras says today with his top draft picks. (Sure.) Well, Tony came back the next morning, and we talked some more, and Dad sent him away again. We did a couple more go-rounds, and finally we agreed on $32,500 plus an incentive bonus that could add up to another $7,500 -- $2,500 for each minor league classification I jumped.

Thinking about it now, Dad did pretty well by me. Back then, it was either take what they offered or take a job dipping ice cream cones in my father's restaurant. But what really sealed the deal -- besides that extra $7,500 -- was an invitation to come to Philadelphia for a weekend series against the Giants and work out with the big club.

Where do I sign?

Growing up in Dayton, Ohio, I played ball all the time, but never really believed I'd ever play in the big leagues. But, all of a sudden, the Phillies are going to pay me to put on a big league uniform, with those beautiful red Adidas shoes. It still gives me goose bumps, just thinking about it.

Clearing the Bases
Juiced Players, Monster Salaries, Sham Records, and a Hall of Famer's Search for the Soul of Baseball. Copyright © by Mike Schmidt. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.

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