JULIO CRUZ BECAME FIRST TERRIER MAJOR LEAGUER

Redlands Connection is a concoction of sports memories emanating from a city that once numbered less than 20,000 people. From the Super Bowl to the World Series, from the World Cup to golf’s U.S. Open, plus NCAA Final Four connections, Tour de France cycling, major tennis, NBA and a little NHL, aquatics and quite a bit more, the sparkling San Bernardino County city that sits between Los Angeles and Palm Springs has its lightning share of sports connections. It is a reality that almost every major sport can be connected to Redlands. This story’s lightning baseball player, a brilliant second baseman and base stealer, has connected in a far away expectation anyone could imagine. – Obrey Brown

I MET JULIO CRUZ A NUMBER of times, including twice in the clubhouse at Anaheim Stadium when he was a member of the Seattle Mariners, the other after he’d been traded to the Chicago White Sox. The other times came years later. He had long since retired. 

Cruz’s onetime home city, which was Redlands, enjoyed a return as a youth demonstration about baseball. Someone had convinced him to come back for a pre-season baseball clinic at Community Field in 1994.

Brooklyn-born. Moved to Redlands. Graduated. Headed for San Bernardino Valley College. Signed as a free agent. California Angels. That was just the beginning.

Cruz hit .237 over 10 MLB seasons. He is, indeed, a Hall of Famer. In Redlands. Considering that Cruz, a 1971 RHS graduate, was the first-ever Terrier to reach the major leagues, there’s not a single belief he couldn’t have been inducted in that campus’ sports Hall of Fame. The guy has taken part in some of baseball’s greatest moments.

Sports Editor Jeff Lane, my predecessor at the Redlands newspaper, had done plenty on Cruz during his five-year stint on that publication. He was a longshot product – never drafted, never spotted in huge high school or college games, rarely reported to major league scouts. To that point, no Redlands player had ever drifted their way from that city into the major leagues.

Ed Vande Berg, a southpaw pitcher, would be next. Another Redlands product who didn’t pick up top-level play until he showed up at San Bernardino Valley College. By his sophomore season, Vande Berg was named State Player of the Year after posting an 18-1 mound record.

Who’d have believed that two ex-Terrier high schoolers would wind up playing on the same major league teams – Cruz and Vande Berg eventually became teammates with the Mariners for a handful of seasons.

Cruz, a 1972 Redlands High graduate, played at nearby San Bernardino Valley. Though undrafted, he was signed by the California Angels on May 7, 1974 as a free agent after his performance at a longshot tryout held at UCLA.

Yes, the Angels sent Cruz into their minor league system. As a 19-year-old, he batted .241 for Idaho Falls of the Rookie League in 1974. He went right up the Angels’ chain – .261 for Quad Cities, .307 for Salinas, .327 for El Paso and .246 for Salt Lake City at age 22.

JUlio Cruz
Julio Cruz, a Redlands High product, became the first Terrier to ever play in the major leagues (photo by Wikipedia Commons).

Sports Editor Jeff Lane, my predecessor at the Redlands newspaper, had done plenty on Julio during his five-year stint on that publication. Julio was a popular product. To that point, no Redlands player had ever drifted their way from that city into the major leagues.

Ed Vande Berg, a southpaw pitcher, would be next. In fact, the two would eventually become teammates in Seattle.

Julio, a 1972 Redlands High graduate, played at nearby San Bernardino Valley. Though undrafted, he was signed by the California Angels on May 7, 1974 as a free agent after a tryout held at UCLA.

The Angels sent Cruz into their minor league system. As a 19-year-old, he batted .241 for Idaho Falls of the Rookie League in 1974. On he went, right up the Angels’ chain – .261 for Quad Cities, .307 for Salinas, .327 for El Paso and .246 for Salt Lake City at age 22.

EXPANSION — A REAL BREAK FOR CRUZ

The American League, about to expand from 10 teams to 12 teams by 1977, had to make players available in a draft pool. Cruz was left unprotected by the Angels, who had ex-Red Sox second baseman Jerry Remy on their MLB level. For that position, the Angels didn’t need Cruz.

While Cruz batted .366 for Hawaii of the Pacific Coast League – stashed then with the Padres’ chain while Seattle organized its minor league system – it wouldn’t be long before he got his shot in the majors.

On Nov. 5, 1976, Cruz had been the 52nd player taken in the American League expansion draft when two new franchises appeared – Seattle and Toronto.

Suddenly, he was a “sudden” Mariner.

In a curious draft footnote, pitcher Butch Edge was taken by Toronto out of Milwaukee’s chain. Edge would eventually wind up in Redlands years later as the University of Redlands’ men’s golf coach. Other players taken in the draft included Pete Vuckovich being plucked away from the White Sox by Toronto. Vuckovich eventually wound up with the Brewers, winning the 1982 Cy Young Award.

Edge, at least in 1979, and Vuckovich would eventually wind up playing against Cruz. It was the Redlands-based player who turned into a Seattle stalwart. Longing for star players, Cruz’s base-stealing skills turned him into a popular Mariner.

He stole 59 bases in 1978, then swiped 49, 45, 43 and 46 bags over the next four seasons. What’s lost in those numbers is that he stole 49 in just 107 games in 1979. During that MLB strike-shortened 1981 season, Cruz swiped 43 times in 94 games.

If there was a weakness to his game, Cruz’s on-base-percentage was awfully low – his highest at .363 in ’79 – but he put a lot of bunts in play to try and get on base.

There were some decent teammates in Seattle – Al Cowens, Richie Zisk, Dave Henderson, Willie Horton, Bruce Bochte, Ruppert Jones, among others – with pitchers like future White Sox teammate Floyd Bannister and Hall of Famer Gaylord Perry playing in Seattle with Cruz.

In fact, Cruz was on the field on May 6, 1982 when Perry (10-12 that season) won his 300th game. He beat the Yankees at the Kingdome to notch this milestone victory. Julio, not to confuse anyone with his shortstop mate Todd Cruz, scored a run, laid down a sacrifice and threw out four Yankees and put out two more.

It was Julio, in fact, who fielded the grounder off fellow second baseman Willie Randolph for the final out.

Gaylord Perry
Hall of Famer Gaylord Perry notched his 300th career victory in a Seattle uniform. In fact, teammate Julio Cruz made the final out when he fielded Willie Randolph’s grounder (photo by Wikipedia Commons).

In fact, Julio was on the field on May 6, 1982 when Perry (10-12 that season) won his 300th game. He beat the Yankees in the Kingdome to notch this milestone victory.

It was Cruz, in fact, who fielded the grounder off Willie Randolph for the final out.

TRADED TO THE CHISOX

On June 30, 1983 — MLB’s trading deadline — Seattle swapped Cruz to the Chicago White Sox for second baseman Tony Bernazard. The results of that trade might’ve been the foundation for the ChiSox vaulting to an American League Western Division title by 20 games over Kansas City.

That ’83 season was convincingly his best season – 160 games between his two seasons, 130 hits, 57 stolen bases and 24th on that year’s MVP balloting. That season was won by Baltimore shortstop Cal Ripken, Jr., whose team knocked off the ChiSox in the playoffs.

Incidentally, White Sox catcher Carlton Fisk (3rd), Baines (10th), LaMarr Hoyt (13th), Greg Luzinski (17th), Richard Dotson (20th) and Rudy Law (21st) got MVP voting support ahead of Cruz.

“Let’s Do It Again” was the theme for 1984.  What the ChiSox did was fall back to fifth place, 14 games under .500. General Manager Roland Hemond, who leveraged the Bernazard-for-Cruz swap, brought in pitcher Ron Reed and practically stole future Hall of Famer Tom Seaver from the Mets.

Their contributions weren’t enough to offset poor showings, perhaps reflected by 1983 ace pitchers Hoyt (13-18) and Dotson (14-15) one season later.

There were 54,032 fans at Yankee Stadium when Seaver beat the Yankees for his 300th career win. Cruz, in the dugout batting less than .180, wasn’t part of that ChiSox 4-1 on-field triumph.

On the field, though, were Hall of Famers like Rickey Henderson and Dave Winfield, MVP Don Mattingly and, of course, Seaver. Managers Tony La Russa and Billy Martin squared off against each other.

One night later, Cruz was back in the lineup, going 2-for-2 off Ron Guidry, caught stealing by Yankee catcher Butch Wynegar.

The 1985 White Sox club bounced back to win 85 games and actually led the division in June. By 1986, the club was in disarray with new general manager Ken Harrelson, who had replaced both Hemond, and manager Jim Fregosi. It would be four more seasons before the Chicago White Sox finished over .500.

Roland_Hemond_at_SABR_Convention_2014
Chicago White Sox General Manager Roland Hemond was responsible for landing Julio Cruz in a trade with the Seattle Mariners in 1983 (photo by Wikipedia Commons).

Cruz was living off an impressive free agent contract that was signed in December 1984, a six-year deal between $3.6 and $4.8 million. He never completed it. He played in 1,156 career games; swiped 343 bases; don’t forget an impressive .982 defense at second base.

Released by the White Sox in July 1987, Cruz signed as a free agent with Los Angeles. But the 1987 Dodgers already had a second baseman. Steve Sax would go on to lead his team to a World Series title a year later. Cruz, who drew release, never actually played for the Dodgers. This onetime Terrier was finished.

Ten years of his MLB career was now complete.

A TERRIER HALL OF FAME RETURN

He was part of the second class of Hall of Fame inductees at his former Redlands high school. In fact, Cruz unwittingly opened the door to a humorous line given by fellow inductee Brian Billick, of Super Bowl football fame.

Cruz spoke emotionally about his Terrier days. The memories. Boy, he had fun. The teams he’s played on. There was some success. The Terriers, with Cruz in the lineup, won the first Citrus Belt League title in 1971 — 44 years after their previous championship from 1927.

At the Redlands Hall of Fame podium, Cruz shared a memory. “Just being in the showers with guys like Brian Billick was a thrill. Those were highlights for me. I’ll never get over that.”

Billick? Billick, the Terrier great defensive back and QB who was head coach of the 2001 Baltimore Ravens when they won the Super Bowl, was also being inducted that same night at the University of Redlands.

In fact, Billick broke the crowd up when he said, “Cruz, it’s amazing to me that you felt like the highlight of your high school career was taking a shower with me.”

Those Hall of Famer viewers started busting up.

A few years before that Hall of Fame moment, Cruz, along with ex-major leaguer Rudy Law and Hall of Fame pitcher Ferguson Jenkins took part in a baseball clinic at Community Field. Former Pirates and Yankees pitcher Dock Ellis was also on hand.

Dozens and dozens of area youth showed up for that historic event at the corner of Church Street and San Bernardino Avenue. This was a rare moment for local youth. Dads let their kids know who this guy was: Cruz, of Redlands. Former major leaguer. Little guy. Second baseman. Switch hitter. Lots of speed. Wanna get your kids into the big leagues? Listen. Watch.

Jenkins, Ellis and Law couldn’t have been more classy. Cruz, the ex-Terrier, knew he was at home. Those players gave tips. They shared stories. They shook hands. Smiled. They signed autographs.

Cruz eventually became a coach. Broadcasting games eventually came up for the Spanish-listening Mariner fans, Cruz taking his Brooklyn-to-Redlands-to-Seattle-to-Chicago travels really well.

Why not a Terrier Hall of Famer? He fit the mold. Came into that Hall that same season as Brian Billick, the ex-Terrier football player who led the Baltimore Ravens to the 2001 Super Bowl. Billick and Cruz even shared the same roster as Terrier basketball players during those early 1970s.

While playing with, or against, MLB Hall of Famers like Fisk, Perry, Seaver and Baines, Cruz wound up playing for one Cooperstown-bound manager — La Russa.

It was, if anything, a diamond-style Redlands Connection.

*****

Cruz was 67 when he died of cancer in February 2022. There were a few chats we had together in years leading to that moment. It was 15 years before he died that his first wife, Rebecca, died from cancer. He was married to Mojgam upon his death.

 

PART 1: “WILLIE … ALMOST MICKEY … AND THE DUKE”

Redlands Connection is a concoction of sports memories emanating from a city that once numbered less than 20,000 people. From the Super Bowl to the World Series, from the World Cup to golf’s U.S. Open and the Olympics, plus NCAA Final Four connections, NASCAR, the Kentucky Derby and Indianapolis 500, Tour de France cycling, major tennis, NBA and a little NHL, aquatics and quite a bit more, the sparkling little city that sits around halfway between Los Angeles and Palm Springs on Interstate 10 has its share of sports connections. – Obrey Brown

Talkin’ baseball. Terry Cashman. His song, released in 1981, seemed to summarize a special part of baseball. A musical contribution to baseball history. It surrounded the great center fielders in three New York boroughs – the Bronx, Brooklyn and Manhattan.

Cashman wrote about … “Willlieeeeee … Mickey … and The Duke.”

Duke Snider came to Redlands.

Mickey Mantle came to … well, as far as anyone knows, he didn’t come to Redlands. But his longtime friend, Billy Martin, showed up here at least once.

Then there was Willie Mays. I can’t honestly say that the “Say Hey Kid” ever set foot on Redlands soil. But me, the sports editor from Redlands, took part in a rare discussion that probably never came up in baseball circles.

It would’ve made a nice little change in Cashman’s song, “Willie … Almost Mickey … and the Duke …”

Say, hey!

Say, hey!

Say, hey!

Willie_Mays_cropped
Willie Mays talked about a “trade” that could’ve happened regarding a Dodger pitcher named Koufax? (Wikipedia Commons photo)

It was in the early 1980s. Bob Hope Desert Classic. Deep in the heart of Coachella Valley. Willie Mays, a golf lover, was playing in the celebrity Pro-Am, along with plenty of others from music, film and sports.

There we were in the VIP tent. Food was being served. It was the middle of the day. Willie had played his round. I was talking a break. Other than the serving staff, no one else seemed to be around.

Sitting at a table near him, I could just feel the opportunity. I grew up in the Bay Area watching this guy play in the twilight of his career in the late 1960s.

What should I ask him? Finally, I came up with something out of sheer desperation.

“Willie,” I said, “tell me something about your career that didn’t get much attention.”

He responded crudely, which shouldn’t have come as a complete shock. In sports, you often run into replies like that. In the clubhouse. In a locker room. On a field or court. Willie had probably been approached by thousands of media guys looking for something – stories, opinions, recollections, you name it.

He wouldn’t be talking – at least to me. It’s okay. I tried. No big deal.

Suddenly, out of the blue, he blurted, “We almost got Koufax.”

Huh? What? Say that again!

Yeah, he said. A year, or two, before Dodger southpaw Sandy Koufax really hit his Hall of Fame stride, the fireballing southpaw was stewing about how the Dodgers were using him.

Translation: Or not using him.

Apparently in Willie’s presence in San Francisco – likely at Seals Stadium – Koufax approached team general manager Buzzie Bavasi to request a trade.

Said Willie: “He told Bavasi, ‘you’re not using me. Why even keep me? It’s better to let me go. Trade me somewhere so I can pitch.’ ”

Willie said he jumped right into the discussion. “Trade him to the Giants,” he remembers telling Bavasi. “Trade him to us.”

There was some discussion. Wow! The Giants’ star player was discussing a trade with the GM of their chief rival, the Dodgers.

Willie was told by Bavasi to tell Horace Stoneham, the Giants’ owner who made all deals for the San Francisco-based team.

“Did you do it?” I asked him.

He nodded. “I talked to Mr. Stoneham. Didn’t hear much about it for awhile.”

Willie was chewing his food. Some guys were entering the VIP tent. Hoping that it wasn’t people looking for Willie – which would interrupt our chat – I prodded him a little.

“Any discussions take place about Koufax going to the Giants?”

Willie Mays nodded again. He was chewing. Swallowing. Didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry to answer.

“They wanted Cepeda.”

Orlando Cepeda, one of baseball’s younger star sluggers, was a San Francisco favorite. He was an established star.

Koufax had yet to reach that portion of his career that would get everyone’s attention. At that time, Cepeda-for- Koufax might not have seemed logical for San Francisco.

(Funny thing, though, was in 1966, the Giants sent Cepeda to St. Louis for southpaw Ray Sadecki – not quite the same caliber of pitcher that Koufax had been. At least Sadecki had won 20 games a couple years earlier.)

Koufax had a little success in his early years, but had yet to really hit his consistently Hall of Fame stride. In his mind, apparently, the Dodgers weren’t treating him respectfully.

Between 1961 and his final season, 1966, Koufax was unhittable, unforgettable and, evidently, untradeable.

I summarized this for Willie Mays.

“Are you telling me that you guys almost had Sandy Koufax, Juan Marichal and Gaylord Perry on the same pitching staff?” It would have been a couple of years before Perry joined the Giants’ staff.

Wow!

Willie didn’t answer. Just kept chewing. I wasn’t all that much of an interest to him. At the moment, though, I was the only one sitting near him to chat about this remarkable trade possibility.

“How close do you think this came to happening?”

I should mention this: During this entire chat, Willie Mays never looked at me. Not once. Didn’t have to, though. This was more than I’d bargained for. I don’t even know if he had even heard that last question.

At that point, more people started entering the tent. Food was being served. Willie Mays acknowledged some of the people he’d played golf with that day. My time with him was apparently over.

It was exciting, to say the least. I was practically finished with my sandwich and potato salad. I was nursing my drink when Willie Mays got up to leave. My heart kind of sank. I’d have really liked to get more conversation with him.

I watched him shake hands with a few guys.

“Nice to see you again, Willie.”

“Thanks, Willie.”

“Let’s get together soon, Willie.”

You know, typical sendoff lines.

Willie Mays was leaving. He’d walk right behind where I was sitting. When he walked past me, he said into my good ear (I only hear out of one ear), “Stoneham would’ve never traded Cepeda.”

One-third of the Cashman song – done.

Part 2 of Willie … Almost Mickey … and The Duke next week.