NEWCOMBE AMONG BASEBALL’S GREAT “WHAT IFS”

Following Don Newcombe’s recent death, I thought I’d give a sneak preview of my next book, on baseball’s “Who’s Who of What Ifs.” Here’s my chapter on Newk:

Don Newcombe’s major league career was delayed up to four years by the color of his skin. It was interrupted by two full years of military service. And it was shortened by alcoholism. Yet Newcombe’s peak and career won-lost records of 27-7 and 149-90 compare with those of Hall of Famers Dizzy Dean (30-7, 150-83) and Sandy Koufax (27-9, 165-87).
Donald Newcombe was born June 14, 1926 in Madison, New Jersey, son of Sadie Sayers and James Roland Newcombe. Don was named after his maternal uncle, Donald Sayers, and joined older brother Roland, Jr. in the family; brothers Harold and Norman would follow. Don survived a life-threatening battle with pneumonia in his youth. He attended Lafayette Junior High and Jefferson High School in Elizabeth, N.J. At 16 Don lied about his age and joined the Army, but they found out and sent him home; he later served in the Navy before World War II was over.
After starring for his school team and the semi-pro Roselle, N.J. Stars, Don turned professional in 1944 with the Newark Eagles of the Negro National League. The right-hander went 1-3 that year, but blossomed to 8-4 (for a 21-17 team) in ’45, pitching against the likes of Hall of Famers Josh Gibson, Buck Leonard, Cool Papa Bell, and Roy Campanella. Note that those won-lost records account only for documented league games; many if not most Negro leagues’ games were exhibitions and barnstorming affairs against all levels of competition, including white major leaguers. One source says Newcombe’s overall records in those two years were 7-6 and 14-4, with each of the four 1945 losses by one run.
Don met a gal named Freddie Green in 1945 and they were married a month later. After a decade of trying to start a family, they would adopt two children, Gregory and Evit.
In the fall of 1945, Brooklyn Dodgers’ president and general manager Branch Rickey began the bold process of integrating major league baseball. After intensive scouting, the first four African-American players he chose to sign were Jackie Robinson, John Wright, Campanella, and Newcombe. Newk debuted for Nashua in the New England League on May 16, 1946, just four weeks after Robinson’s historic debut with Montreal of the International League.
Despite being a teenager in an uncomfortable environment, Newcombe excelled from the start. He went 14-4 with a 2.21 ERA in 1946, and 19-6, 2.91 in ’47, leading the New England League in wins and strikeouts. Promoted to Montreal in 1948, Newk was just as good, notching a 17-6 record (including a no-hitter vs. Toronto followed by a one-hitter vs. Rochester) and 3.14 ERA. After starting the next IL season 2-2, 2.65, he finally got the call to the majors in late May, 1949. He had run up a 52-18 record in the minors, good for a .743 winning percentage.
Obviously, Newcombe had the talent to pitch in the bigs three or four years earlier, but he was held back – why? Researcher Guy Waterman wrote that, in contrast to the articulate and controlled Robinson and the affable Campanella, “Newcombe had neither of these winning qualities. To white ballplayers who had never had to face a black pitcher before, he was perceived as just a big [6-4, 220 pounds] black man who was up to no good out there on the mound. In fact, for a while, Newcombe’s promotion to the Major League level was delayed due to fears that he would not prove as tractable as Robinson and Campanella. [Dodgers’ manager] Burt Shotton, when sending Newcombe back down… commented, ‘I think he can pitch in the majors, but he might undo everything those other fellows have accomplished.’ Black reporters charged that ‘his habit of popping off’ was why Newcombe was being held back.”
According to Newcombe, the Dodgers wanted to make him the trailblazer instead of Robinson, but there was too much worry about Newk’s temperament. “If I was white, I would already have been called up, but Mr. Rickey said, ‘I’m doing this on a stair-step procedure, so keep your mouth shut,’” recalled Newcombe. He acknowledged that it was the right call: “I was too young. The pressure would have killed me… (I)f I were to throw a ball and hit someone? Oh, man.”
Newcombe made his major league debut on May 20, 1949, but gave up hits to four of the five batters he faced. His first start three days later was much more successful: Newk shut out the Reds on five hits and no walks, requiring only 99 pitches. He also impressed with his nimble defense and potent bat, driving in two of the Dodgers’ three runs. One reporter described his pitching repertoire: “Newcombe not only has control but he is a ‘stuff’ pitcher. His fast ball… is alive and tough to gauge. He has a slider, too, that throws the hitters off balance and his change-up is better than average.”
Newcombe went on to an outstanding rookie year. Less than two months after his debut, he was pitching in the All-Star Game. In August and September, Newk hurled three straight shutouts amid a streak of 32 consecutive scoreless innings. Although he pitched in just over four months of the season, he won 17 games, tying for the NL lead with five shutouts and finishing just two strikeouts shy of Warren Spahn’s league high in that category. Newcombe also finished in the top five in complete games, innings pitched, wins, percentage, and opposing on-base percentage. In addition he was the top batter (22 hits) and fielder (57 errorless chances) among NL pitchers. Newcombe easily won Rookie of the Year honors, receiving 21 of 24 votes (he got 105 of 116 in an Associated Press poll), and even finished eighth in MVP voting. He was being touted as a possible future 30-game winner.
The Dodgers won the NL pennant, and Newcombe was their pitcher for Game One of the World Series. Newk throttled the Yankees for eight innings, surrendering just four hits and no walks or runs, and fanning 11. But he gave up a home run in the bottom of the ninth to lose, 1-0. Newcombe also lost Game Four as the Yanks steamrolled the Dodgers in five.
Big Don got a raise from $8,000 to $13,000 in 1950, and won 19 games, though he and the Dodgers lost the pennant on the last day of the season. He was even better in 1951, winning 20 and tying for the league lead in strikeouts. But once again, his season ended in October heartbreak. Brooklyn blew a 13½-game lead and wound up in a tie for first place with the New York Giants, necessitating a best-of-three playoff. In the finale Newcombe held a 4-1 lead after eight innings, but ran out of gas in the ninth and gave way to Ralph Branca. We all know the rest.
Just as he was approaching his athletic prime, Newcombe’s burgeoning career was suddenly put on hold. He was inducted into the U.S. Army on February 26, 1952, not to be discharged until February 9, 1954. Newcombe was one of the few established major leaguers to miss two entire seasons in military service during the Korean Conflict. He returned not in prime shape, either physically or mentally. “When I got out in 1954, I couldn’t get back in the pitching groove all that season,” Newcombe recalled. His weight had ballooned to 250 pounds, and he wound up with a mediocre record. But he was poised for a big comeback.
One thing which would help Newcombe in that regard was a new big bat in the lineup – his own. The lefty swinger had been restrained in his hitting ever since an incident in his rookie year. On August 16, 1949, Newk took a big swing and the bat slipped out of his sweaty hands. It flew into the stands, injuring a woman, who sued Newcombe and the Dodgers for $3,000. “So all the years since, he has been fearful of hurting somebody,” according to a 1955 article, thus “he checked his tremendous swing.” The lady finally settled out of court for $250 that year. With that behind him, Newcombe started using resin to improve his grip, and the results were eye-popping. He had hit for decent average (.245) through 1954, but had only one home run in 343 at bats. But in ’55, Newk belted seven homers – still an NL record for pitchers – and hit .359 with a .632 slugging percentage (adding a steal of home for good measure). Over a six-year period encompassing 526 at bats – about the norm for a full-time player in one season – Newcombe would collect 158 hits (including 14 long-balls) for a .300 average. It seems likely he could have made it in the majors as a position-player if his pitching arm wasn’t so valuable, and he was often used as a pinch-hitter.
Newcombe had a rocky start to the 1955 season, and then on May 5 was suspended by manager Walt Alston for refusing to pitch batting practice. He returned with a vengeance. On May 10, Newk pitched a near-perfect game against the Cubs. He allowed only one baserunner, Gene Baker, who singled and was caught stealing in the fourth. Newcombe kept rolling along from there, and by the end of July had an 18-1 record; he ran into a stretch of hard luck in August and illness in September, but finished 20-5. He led the NL in win percentage, fewest walks per nine innings, and lowest opposing OBP, and was second in complete games, wins, and ERA. Newcombe earned his fourth All-Star selection, finished seventh in MVP voting, and helped the Dodgers to their first world championship. His salary was raised from $17,500 to $25,000.
On July 9, 1956, by a 14-12 vote, the BBWAA approved a new award to recognize the major leagues’ best pitcher each year. Commissioner Ford Frick, troubled by pitchers’ lack of support in MVP voting, had spearheaded the creation of the Cy Young Memorial Award. There was speculation as to whom the first honoree might turn out to be, but Don Newcombe – 11-5 with a modest 3.51 ERA at that point – wasn’t even mentioned. Yet Newk went an amazing 16-2, 2.30 in the second half of the season to become the landslide choice. With a 27-7 log, he won six more games than any other big league pitcher. He was also again best in the NL in win percentage and opposing OBP. Ironically, in light of Frick’s concern, Newcombe was also named the league’s Most Valuable Player. Until Justin Verlander joined him in 2011, Newk was the only man to win the Rookie of the Year, Cy Young, and MVP Awards during his career. His salary was upped to $30,000 for 1957.
At age 32, Don Newcombe was at the top of his profession. He had a 112-48 career record, good for a .700 win percentage. It is not far-fetched to think he might have had another 100 big league victories by that point, if not for the years he lost to the color line and military service. But his career and life were about to go on a downward spiral.
Newk had suffered arm stiffness in the closing weeks of the ’56 season, and strained the limb in his last regular-season outing on September 30. “I didn’t tell (Alston) my arm was hurting, which could have been another big mistake,” Newcombe revealed weeks later. “It had been sore ever since the last game of the season against Pittsburgh, when I hurt it throwing a curve ball to Lee Walls in the eighth inning [Walls hit a home run, and Newcombe was removed from the game]. But my mind was made up that I wasn’t going into (the World Series) complaining.” As a result, he was pounded by the Yankees in the Fall Classic, dropping his career World Series record to 0-4, and cementing an unfair reputation as a choker in big games. President Eisenhower even wrote to Newcombe, sympathizing with his “hard luck.” After being knocked out of the box for the second time, he was grabbed by a parking lot attendant who questioned his guts. Newk struck the man, leading to an assault suit.
Overcoming elbow trouble in spring training, and finger and back ailments during the season, Newcombe did not pitch badly in 1957. His 3.49 ERA was .39 runs better than the league average, despite pitching his home innings in Brooklyn’s band-box, Ebbets Field. Newk led the league in fewest walks per nine innings, and had the NL’s third-best opposing OBP. But, based on his 11-12 record, everyone thought he was a flop, and he took a pay-cut after the season.
Newcombe had even more trouble off the field. While driving home on August 21, 1957 he struck and critically injured a four-year-old boy in Linden, New Jersey. Though Newcombe wasn’t charged by police, he was sued by the family, eventually to settle out of court two years later. Then, in February, 1958, Don and Freddie separated, en route to divorce. To top it off, the Dodgers were moving to Los Angeles for that season, meaning that air travel would become a regular part of the game. Don had had a fear of flying since witnessing a plane crash in Elizabeth, New Jersey in 1951. He underwent hypnotism to overcome the fear so he could continue his baseball career. Newcombe said this was also when he started on hard liquor. He had been a big beer-drinker since childhood (“I never drank the night before I pitched, but I drank every other night”), but needed something else to get him through flights. “You can’t carry a six-pack on a plane with you,” he explained, so “I started to drink whiskey. I’d carry two fifths on the plane.” He later admitted that “Alcohol shortened my career by at least five or six years.” Later in 1958, there was an incident outside a Newark tavern owned by Newcombe and his two brothers; the three were charged with assaulting a police officer on November 25. They ultimately were acquitted in court.
After a predictably poor start in the 1958 season, Newcombe was traded to the Cincinnati Redlegs on June 15. He made a nice comeback in 1959, leading the NL in fewest walks per nine innings, posting the second-lowest ERA of his career, and going 13-8 for a sub-.500 team (helped by his .364 batting average). In later years he confessed to using a spitball that season. But that was pretty much the end of the trail. Newcombe was sidelined with a thigh injury in spring training, 1960, and was ineffective thereafter, finishing the year with the Indians after a mid-season sale. He spent 1961 in the Pacific Coast League, going 9-8, and then went to Japan for one final season of baseball – but not as a pitcher. Playing first base for the Chunichi Dragons, Newcombe batted .262 with 12 homers in 81 games.
Newcombe had married Billie Roberts immediately after his 1960 divorce. The couple would have three children, Don, Jr., Kelly, and Tony. But by the mid-1960s Don’s drinking had gotten out of control and, not coincidentally, his family was in financial ruin. He filed for bankruptcy in 1967. Yet he was more concerned with the potential loss of his wife and young children. “In 1966 (Billie) told me that if I didn’t stop drinking, she’d leave,” he recalled. “She said she could stand not having any money, but she couldn’t stand my drinking, my betting on horses and my carousing. I vowed that day I would never take another drink. I quit cold turkey.” Newcombe remained sober for the remaining half-century of his life, and was very public in encouraging other alcoholics to do the same.
After a series of odd jobs, Newcombe returned to baseball in May, 1970 as the Dodgers’ Director of Community Relations. Soon after, Dodger President Peter O’Malley handed Don an envelope. In it was the 1955 World Series ring he had pawned during his financial crisis, which O’Malley had secretly bought and stashed in a vault. Newcombe broke down and cried. (Years later, Newcombe sold the ring, along with his Rookie of the Year, MVP, and Cy Young trophies, to film-maker Spike Lee.) In 2009, Newk was named special adviser to Dodgers’ chairman Frank McCourt.
Newcombe enjoyed several honors over the years. Perhaps the most meaningful was in 2007, when he received the Jackie Robinson Lifetime Achievement Award at the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum’s seventh annual Legacy Awards.
Having played ten big league seasons, Newcombe is eligible for the Hall of Fame. He was on the BBWAA ballot from 1966-80, peaking at 59 votes (15%) – more than future Hall of Famer Orlando Cepeda, among others – in his last try. Newk did a bit better in veterans’ balloting, with a high of 17 votes (21%) in 2007.
What was Newcombe’s greatest memory of his long life and colorful career? “It’s the day I swore on my four-year-old son’s head that I’d never take another drink,” he said. “He was scared of me, of the things I was doing. I have him back now. Baseball is a wonderful game but not that wonderful.”
Don Newcombe died at age 92 on February 19, 2019.