Minnie Miñoso, a Baseball Lifer

Having honored John Mackovic as a football lifer and Hubie Brown as his hoops counterpart, I simply had to write a similar article about a baseball man. I sought suggestions and got quite a few, but each one left me unenthused. Then, I heard a name from Boyd London (well-remembered for having stolen my pretty-if-pudgy high school girlfriend 56 years ago) that resonated: Saturnino Orestes Armas Arrieta “Minnie” Miñoso, the pride of Perico, Cuba.

Before proceeding, I would like to bring three things to your attention. First, please note the presence of a tilde over the “n” in his family name. During his 15-year MLB career, the American media never bothered to use it; I think it is only proper to do so. Second, since Miñoso was a full-blooded son of Africa, I find it absurd to say that he was “Latin.” So what if Spanish was his native language? The people who enslaved his ancestors and made them do drudge work in Cuba for generations were Spanish, and the shame is theirs. Miñoso was no more Latin than Michael Jordan is English, so enough of that. Finally, it was Miñoso on whom Garrett Morris of Saturday Night Live based his Chico Escuela (“baseball been berra, berra good to me”) skit. It seemed funny but somewhat cruel. I know it was he because I found a video in which Miñoso was interviewed at the site of the old Comiskey Park; the words and the heavily accented and fractured English were a replica of what made us all laugh at Morris’s comedic performance. Baseball was very, very good to Miñoso, true enough. It got him off the island and enabled him to earn a salary reaching $40,000—pretty good money in those days. Miñoso knew his value and drove a hard bargain with general managers and owners; he was never afraid to climb those golden stairs.

He was born on November 29, 1923 on a plantation in Perico (90 miles due east of Havana) where sugar cane and corn were grown. In his early teens, Miñoso quit school and organized a sandlot baseball team, finding equipment and players and also serving as manager. At age 14, he had the chance to see Martín Dihigo play and decided to model himself after “the Immortal.” Miñoso had a couple of seasons in semi-pro ball before making what seemed like the big time—a contract for $150 a month with the Marianao club of the Cuban Winter League.

But after being named 1945 rookie of the year, Miñoso set his sights even higher. The Cuban circuit had long maintained a connection with the Negro Leagues up in the USA. New York Cubans owner Alex Pompez got a tip and sent Alex Carrasquel (the first Venezuelan to play in the majors, by the way) to sign him. This happened just after Jackie Robinson joined the Brooklyn Dodgers organization, and it is possible that Miñoso was thinking that he, too, might eventually reach the bigs. First, however, he had to adjust to American culture. That included all-black baseball. In Cuba, there was no segregation, so black and White guys played, traveled and socialized together. Miñoso made his adjustments and shone with the Cubans, winners of the 1947 Negro Leagues championship. A tryout with the St. Louis Cardinals led to no contract offer, and we can only wonder why; Robinson and two other black guys had been through a similar pro-forma tryout with the Boston Red Sox two years earlier. (First baseman Tom Alston became the Cards’ first black player in 1954.)

Cleveland Indians owner Bill Veeck played no such games. Having already signed Larry Doby as the American League’s first black player, he sent a couple of scouts to ascertain Miñoso’s skills. Highly impressed, they offered a contract and he bid farewell to the Cubans late in the 1948 season. Veeck (whose team was about to win the World Series) sent him to the Dayton Indians, Cleveland’s Class A affiliate. Did he make an impact? Well, he played a sparkling third base, batted .525 in 11 games and helped them beat the Muskegon Clippers and the Fort Wayne Generals to win the Central League title. Two championships in two years were proof enough that Miñoso played winning ball.

He made his major league debut on April 19, 1949 but a woeful .188 average over nine games caused Veeck (who also served as the franchise’s general manager) to demote him to San Diego of the Pacific Coast League. For the remainder of the 1949 season and all of 1950, “the Cuban Comet” flourished against PCL pitchers. In 1951, the Cleveland Indians were the most integrated team in the majors, with Doby, Luke Easter, Harry Simpson and Sam Jones on the roster, and maybe even the broad-minded Veeck hesitated to have another black player. So Miñoso was soon shipped to the Chicago White Sox as part of a three-team trade—the other being the Philadelphia Phillies.

The Tribe quickly learned that they had screwed up! Chicago’s first black player, Miñoso smashed a 415-foot home run in his first at-bat. The team was soon enjoying a 14-game winning streak, and he was the toast of the Windy City. Embodying the “go-go White Sox” theme of those years, he displayed relentless hustle and base-stealing ability (he led the league in stolen bases every season between 1951 and 1954, and would do the same in 1957, 1958 and 1960. At 5′ 10″ and 175 pounds, Miñoso was not especially big, and he never hit more than 21 homers. But he led the AL in triples three times, doubles once and hits once. Furthermore, he was durable, playing in at least 138 games every year between 1951 and 1961. Selective at the plate, he struck out just 584 times in his Negro Leagues/MLB career and had 848 walks—a very good ratio. Notorious for crowding the plate, he led the AL in getting plunked by opposing pitchers no fewer than nine times; sports writers of that era like to say that by doing so, he “stole first.” Primarily a left fielder although he sometimes filled in at third and first bases, Miñoso won three Gold Gloves and four times came in fourth in MVP voting. He was a seven-time All-Star.

I will note that he was back in a Cleveland Indians uniform in 1958 and 1959 (missing out on the ChiSox’ run to the AL pennant in the latter season) and had a couple of desultory years with the Washington Senators and St. Louis Cardinals. Knowing only baseball, he logged time with the Triple-A Indianapolis Indians before starting yet another career with Jalisco, Orizara, Puerto Vallarta and Torreon of the Mexican League; he was part of one championship team there. Miñoso finally called it quits after the 1973 season, when he was 50. Some of his admirers, of which I am one, point out that he compiled more than 4,000 hits in his pro baseball career.

The Chicago White Sox employed him as a first base coach between 1976 and 1978, and he remained part of the organization for decades to come—a goodwill ambassador of sorts. Who better to serve in that role than Miñoso? This man, who had dealt with racism and segregation, never let it bother him. He was a good cha-cha dancer, was always loose and ready with a quip or handshake or to sign autographs. In time, Miñoso became recognized for having opened the flood gates for players from Caribbean countries. Guys like Orlando Cepeda, Juan Marichal and Tony Ortiz gave him the credit he deserved; Roberto Clemente had dreamed of being the next Minnie Miñoso.

In 1983, his number (9) was retired and a statue of him unveiled at the White Sox’ stadium. Jerry Reinsdorf, the franchise’s main owner since 1981, has spoken glowingly of Miñoso and championed him getting into the Baseball Hall of Fame. Miñoso had been the American League’s most exciting player throughout the 1950s and had career statistics (1,948 games played, 7,059 at-bats, 1,228 runs scored, 2,113 hits, 365 doubles, 95 triples, 195 home runs, 216 stolen bases, .299 batting average and .966 fielding average) that merited this honor. But he kept falling short. Miñoso was finally voted in on December 5, 2021 and inducted the following summer. Too late, though—he had died of heart disease six years earlier.

It only seems suitable to end with this quote from Bill Veeck (d. 1986), who first brought Miñoso to the big leagues: “Great player he was! Great person he is! Very dedicated and focused player. Besides, he possesses a great personality in or out of uniform. He had the ability to put aside the hardships in his personal life and play the game with passion. And he has always been great when it comes to his obligations with the fans. Minnie also proves that average-sized players can be great stars in baseball and that any player—White or black, no matter where he was born, even while not speaking English well—can be loved and adored by fans.”

With the New York Cubans of the Negro Leagues, 1946-48…

Miñoso tore it up with the San Diego Padres of the PCL in the 1949 and 1950 seasons…

The effervescent Minnie Miñoso…

Miñoso signs autographs for young White fans…

Chasing a fly ball during his time with the Cleveland Indians…

Bill Skowron, Miñoso and Nellie Fox gaze admiringly at Mickey Mantle…

Ted Williams of the Boston Red Sox held Miñoso in high regard…

Nellie Fox congratulates Miñoso after a home run…

With the Cards…

With the Senators…

Miñoso in his later years with the ChiSox…