Kup's Chicago - Irv Kupcinet [77]
“I’m okay,” he said. “They took pictures of my head, and the X rays showed absolutely nothin’.”
(So he stayed in the hospital overnight and came back to pitch the next day.)
And there was still another time, while Dizzy and his brother Paul were still pitching partners with the Cardinals, that Diz was struck in the head – this time by a murderous line drive. Again, everyone was worried, except the Dean brothers. When his brother Paul came rushing out to pick him up, Dean asked, “Ain’t gonna be no lump on my haid, is they, Paul?”
“Shucks, no, Diz,” said Paul. “It warn’t but a glancing blow.”
And at the end of a session of reminiscences, Diz loves to sum up his career in the words he used in acknowledgment on the day when he was enrolled in the Baseball Hall of Fame:
“I want to thank the good Lord for giving me a good right arm, a strong back, and a weak mind.”
Where the Sport of Kings is concerned, there has never been a more enthusiastic booster of honest thoroughbred racing in pleasant surroundings than the late Ben Lindheimer of the Arlington and Washington Park race tracks. “Our greatest advertisement,” he used to say, “is a satisfied customer.” Lindheimer probably produced more walking advertisements over a shorter period of time than any other race-track owner in the nation.
He bought control of Arlington Park in 1940. Immediately, he set about to prove his theory by satisfying the customers. He established record-breaking purses to attract the best stables and the leading jockeys. He beautified the grounds. He installed escalators and other conveniences in the clubhouse; and kept the jockeys and stablehands happy with such comforts as swimming pools and such services as professional tutoring for their youngsters. And to assure the honesty of betting and riding, he built up the Thoroughbred Racing Protective Association, and also established a private supervisory agency of his own. The customers were more than satisfied, and Ben was voted turfdom’s “Man of the Year.” The consensus among racing professionals, as well as among the fans, was that “Arlington is the finest track in the world,” in the words of Calumet Farms’ famous trainer, Jimmy Jones. Since Ben’s death, his daughter, Mrs. Marjorie Everett, has continued the vigilance (and the heavy financial investment) required to keep the track in excellent condition.
Some of the greatest races in turf history have been run at Arlington. It was there that the famed Citation made his last public appearance. Native Dancer ran one of his finest races there. And such outstanding jockeys as Willie Shoemaker, Johnny Longden, and Eddie Arcaro have done some of their most skillful riding at Arlington.
In one race at Arlington, however, Arcaro was notably unsuccessful. The owner of a one-horse stable, to his good fortune, had somehow managed to sign Eddie to ride the stable’s entry in a stakes race. Before the horses went to the post, the owner gave the jockey detailed instructions.
“Break fast,” he said. “Get into fourth position at the first turn. Hang there until the clubhouse turn. Then make your move as you head into the stretch, and you’ll win going away.”
Arcaro nodded confidently - and proceeded to finish dead last.
The owner was hopping mad by the time the horse finally came in. He came storming up to the little man with his finger pointed.
“I told you exactly what to do!” he spluttered. “You were supposed to stay in fourth position until the clubhouse turn, and then take the lead as you came into the stretch.”
“What?” demanded Arcaro. “And leave the horse?”
Chicago’s reputation as a prize-fight town is peculiar. I can’t decide whether “illustrious” or “notorious” is the word I want to describe