A Sip of Java for Jack Faszholz

Not every guy who makes it to the major leagues has a long and successful career, developing his athletic skills to the utmost, winning championships, earning big money and getting his ego endlessly stroked. There are far more who manage to find a place on an MLB roster, do OK and quietly disappear. Other players, however, have an even briefer time at the top; for them the idiom “had a cup of coffee” applies. Here are five, chosen somewhat randomly:

• John Paciorek. An outfielder for the Houston Colt .45s, he was called up at the end of the 1963 season. Paciorek went 3-for-3 and walked twice, driving in three runs and scoring four himself, against the New York Mets, but soon suffered a back injury and never returned to the majors.

• Archibald Graham. Early in the 1905 season, the New York Giants hosted the Brooklyn Superbas (now the Los Angeles Dodgers) and won by an 8-4 score. In the 8th inning, Graham replaced teammate George Brown, was on deck and ready to take his cuts when the third out was made. He played right field in the top of the 9th but made no putouts or assists. That was it for him.

• Jimmy Boyle. A catcher for the Giants, he never came to the plate in a 1926 game against the Pittsburgh Pirates. Boyle had half an inning behind the plate, and manager John McGraw never gave him another chance to show his stuff.

• Kevin Mellilo. After a decent college career at South Carolina, he played on minor league teams in Vancouver, Geneva (Illinois), Stockton, Midland and Sacramento. Mellilo got a summons from the Oakland A’s and on June 24, 2007 was sent up as a pinch-hitter. The Mets’ Guillermo Mota walked him. Demoted the very next day, Mellilo dealt with injuries, was traded, signed a free agent contract with the Bucs and finally quit in 2011.

• Larry Yount. The older brother of Hall of Fame shortstop Robin Yount, he had a promising four-year minor league career and made the roster of the Houston Astros (formerly the Colt .45s) in late 1971. Tabbed by manager Harry Walker to pitch the 9th inning of a game against the Atlanta Braves, Yount made a few warm-up throws but felt pain in his elbow. Before facing a single batter, he came out. Since he had been announced, Yount is credited with having played in that one game.

(At least these men made it to “the show.” Pity poor Jim Frey—later the manager of the Kansas City Royals and Chicago Cubs—whose minor league career spanned the 1950–1963 seasons and never got a single call-up.)

Compared to them, Jack Faszholz should not have felt too bad. His MLB pitching career in 1953 consisted of 11 2/3 innings over four games for the St. Louis Cardinals against the Cubs at Wrigley Field, Giants (his only start), Cincinnati Reds and Milwaukee Braves—all at the Cards’ Busch Stadium. In the latter game, he gave up a two-run homer by Eddie Matthews about which he told sports writers, “I think that one is still flying around on South Grand Avenue.” The 6′ 3″, 205-pound right-hander gave up 16 hits, struck out 7 batters, walked 1 and compiled a 6.94 ERA; he came to bat thrice and struck out twice. This was after playing eight seasons in cities such as Roanoke, Scranton, Columbus and Rochester. The latter franchise was a member of the International League, perhaps the strongest circuit in the minors then. After those four outings with the Cards, Faszholz went back to Rochester and played another four full seasons. As a minor leaguer, he took part in 323 games (a 128-100 record), threw 1,891 innings and had a 707/638 strikeouts-to-walks ratio. It’s obvious he had some talent and plenty of desire, but success at the highest levels of pro sports is hard to achieve—as Paciorek, Graham, Boyle, Mellilo, Yount and Frey could attest.

I knew Faszholz and wrote an article about him some 25 years ago for a Lutheran magazine. This was when the St. Louis native was serving as coach at Concordia University in Austin. The baseball field at the little school—founded in the 1920s to turn out Lutheran ministers—was named after him at some point. In fact, Faszholz was a Lutheran minister himself. All those off-seasons, he had been taking courses at a seminary in Missouri, and thus they called him “the Pitching Parson.” He followed in the tradition of Billy Sunday, Albie Pearson and Lindy McDaniel, major leaguers who played ball and preached the Gospel. His foundation was firm enough to preclude too many feelings of disappointment over not being a big-league star. The man, who essentially never raised his voice, had priorities.

Faszholz, who taught at Concordia and several high schools and colleges after retiring as a coach, was married for 65 years to a lady named Annette with whom he had six children, 14 grandchildren and 8 great-grandchildren. He died in 2017, a few weeks short of his 90th birthday. Three memorial services were held in his honor—two in Missouri and one in Texas.

Jack and Annette on their wedding day…

On the mound for Rochester…

Faszholz prepares to deliver…

On deck for the Red Wings; I have no information about his batting skills other than him striking out twice in three MLB at-bats…

During his cup of coffee…

Back of his baseball card…

Faszholz throws batting practice for the Concordia Stags baseball team…

The one-time “Pitching Parson”…

Faszholz at his rural parish in Missouri…