Rest in Peace, Norris Church Mailer, dead at 61.

Mailer was the subject of an excellent profile by Alex Witchel earlier this year.

When thinking of former Yankee managers, Clyde King is hardly the first name that comes to mind. But when it comes to former Yankee skippers who devoted their lives to the game, while doing so with intelligence, enthusiasm, and style, King’s name should be placed near the top of the list. One of the few men who served George Steinbrenner as both manager and general manager, King died Tuesday from heart-related problems. King was 86.

With baseball ravaged by World War II, King made his major league debut as a right-hander with the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1944. He returned to the minor leagues after the war, but eventually returned to Brooklyn, becoming a contributor to the Dodgers’ staff in the late forties and early fifties. While with the Dodgers, King became close friends with Jackie Robinson, the first African American to play in the major leagues during the 20th century. The friendship surprised some, given the southern heritage of the Carolina-born King, but it was emblematic of his open-minded, outgoing, and accepting nature.

After his playing days came to an end with the Reds in 1953, King became a successful minor league manager with teams like the Atlanta Crackers and the Hollywood Stars. Noted for his knowledge of pitching, King turned to coaching with the Reds and Pirates, a springboard to his first big league managerial post in San Francisco, followed by a later stint with the Braves. As a manager, King forged a record five games better than .500, at 234-229.

King joined the Yankee front office in 1976, quickly becoming a trusted confidante of Steinbrenner. He remained with the Yankees for the next three decades, serving alternately as a super scout, coach, manager, general manager, and special advisor. King became one of Steinbrenner’s go-to men, a troubleshooter who would fill any capacity requested by the principal owner.

King moved into the Yankee spotlight in the middle of the 1982 season, when he became the team’s third manager that summer, succeeding Bob Lemon and Gene “Stick“ Michael. Under King’s leadership, the Yankees limped to a 29-33 finish. Several of the veteran Yankees claimed that he was actually a spy for Steinbrenner, a charge that King denied.

After the season, the Yankees bumped King back to the front office. In the mid-1980s, with the Yankee front office in a state of constant turmoil and upheaval, Steinbrenner turned to King to run the entire baseball operation. He promoted King to general manager, giving him [relatively] full authority to make trades and sign free agents. King impressed a number of Yankee watchers at the 1984 winter meetings. Coming to the meetings with a detailed and organized plan, King engineered a blockbuster trade for Hall of Fame leadoff man Rickey Henderson. King also swung lesser trades for useful role players like Ron Hassey and Henry Cotto, and stole hard-throwing reliever Brian Fisher from the Braves for a declining Rick Cerone. (After the winter meetings, King also acquired a young Jay Buhner from the Pirates in exchange for the washed up pair of Steve Kemp and Tim Foli.) Bolstered by the wintertime pickups, the Yankees improved by ten games in 1985, winning 97 games. Unfortunately, the Yankees ran second to a powerhouse Blue Jays team that won 99 games and claimed the American League East.

Some historians, including this one, regard King as the Yankees’ most effective general manager of the 1980s, but that stature did not prevent him from being fired in 1986. Now demoted, King returned to being a lesser known member of the front office. Whether working in a position of power or simply serving as a scout, King also developed a reputation as one of the game’s great storytellers. Always approachable, King loved to talk baseball, spinning his tales in his trademark southern drawl.

Along the way, King managed to accomplish something that few others can claim. He somehow worked for 30 years under the imposing thumb of George Steinbrenner, before finally retiring in 2005. If nothing else, lasting that long while working for “The Boss” should earn Clyde King at least half of a plaque here in Cooperstown.

The great Solomon Burke passed away recently. Sorry I didn’t mention it. The Beat of the Day will be dedicated to Burke for the rest of the week:

[Photo Credit: Ted Barron]

One of the first grown-up books I ever read as a kid was “Mr. October,” by Maury Allen. I was ten-years-old when it was published in 1981. I already had “The Reggie Jackson Scrapbook” but this was a biography, all words and no pictures (although each chapter featured a picture of Reggie at the plate ). I wasn’t a big reader but I liked having my own books and often received baseball books for my birthday. I knew about the two Rogers–Angell and Kahn–from my dad’s book collection. But when I picked up “The Boys of Summer” and tried to read it I got bored quickly, same for “The Summer Game” and “Five Innings” which had impossibly long paragraphs that seemed to go on forever.

Maury Allen I could read. He told a story. The words didn’t scare me away. So I read “Mr. October” over and again. And I got more of Allen’s books, notably “Baseball’s 100,” and always made the distinction between Maury Allen and Murray Chass–who covered the Yankees for the New York Times. Maury Allen was my first favorite sports writer. And although I knew that he wasn’t in the best of health, I was deeply sadened to hear that he died yesterday morning.

Here is the obit from the New York Times.

Allen had been around New York covering sports since the Toots Shor days. He wrote for the Post from 1961-88. In the Sixties, Allen was at the Post with Leonard Shecter, Milton Gross, Leonard Koppett, Larry Merchant and Vic Ziegel, to name just a few. He covered the Yanks and looked as if he’d be right at home sitting at Oscar Madison’s poker table.

Allen moved to the Gannett chain after leaving the Post and most recently contributed to The Columnists (check out his archive). He also wrote close to 40 books. I was thrilled that he was a part of the Lasting Yankee Stadium Memories book.

Maury Allen will be missed but not forgotten.