Detroit Free Press from Detroit, Michigan • Page 29

rn'i DETROIT FPEE PRESSTUESDAY, MAY 23, 1978 1 A I I It at-. i 7 pwvnnw i i i is 11 i nmMmMOTMm umh mm' mi i iiiwwiiiibiij 1 Tigers again. lor a day It couldn't be Billy Martin In a Tigers unlforml And Al Kaline, Norm Cash, Jim Northrup and Bill Freehan also dressed as Tigers, looking fit enough to step right Into the lineup. But there they were Monday, Martin out of those blasted Yankee pinstripes, and the other four out of their business suits. Alas, It was only for a day, and only for movie cameras, even though It brought back memories of that last pennant year, 1972.

The former Tigers were at the stadium to play themselves In the Ron LeFlore made-for-TV movie, In scenes where LeFlore came from Jackson prison for a tryout with the Tigers. Free Press Photos by TARO YAMASAKI -Sill Jlv v- -44 K--W 4 HT it I Bill Freehan and Billy Martin cut up off camera. Former Tiger greats Al Kaline, Norm Cash, Bill Freehan and Jim Northrup prepare for filming. 'See you in the movies' comes true for Billy Martin, Al Kaline Crew Falls 1 "Look at the size of those hands," says Freehan in amazement. "Good thing he isn't a catcher." "He's too smart to be a catcher," says Northrup.

"If he's so fast, how come they caught him?" ad libs Cash. The director likes the line so much, it becomes part of the script. THEY SHOOT the scene again. And again. The four Tigers ooh and aah their way through the part.

They are as natural in front of the camera as they were in front of an umpire. Finally, Burton is told to run to first, and after another swing at the invisible ball, he is off. Sort of. LeFlore moves that slowly only when he's sleeping. "He's faster than anyone on our club," marvels Kaline the actor.

"He sure can move." It's a print. Away from the filming, Karalla, the man responsible for much of LeFlore's success, is beaming. He was in prison with LeFlore and started the barrage of letters and calls that resulted in Martin's invitation to LeFlore to come to a tryout. "Nobody, none of the officials, would do anything for Ron," said Karalla, who was paroled three years ago. "You could see he had all that ability.

So I started writing letters and calling Butsicaris (the owner of the Lindell A.C.). I ran his phone bill so high, he had to do something. He knew I knew ball players." Butsicaris talked to Martin, who went up to Jackson on a good-will tour, was introduced to Karalla and LeFlore, and the rest is history, if not yet cinema. "I'M GLAD IT worked out," said Karalla, who, ironically, has a bit part in the movie jeering LeFlore and calling him a jay bird once when he comes to the plate. "I could have Please turn to Page 2C By TOM HENDERSON Free Press Sports Writer Except for all the gray hair and the lines around the eyes, it could have been 1968 or 1972 all over again.

There was Jim Northrup lining singles to right. And Al Kaline, still trim and wearing No. 6, hitting those ropes to left and smashing one pitch into the stands at the 340-foot mark. And there was No. 1 1, too.

Bill Freehan. And No. 25. Norm Cash. Around the batting cage they stood all four of them key members of a super era in Tiger history, an era that saw Detroit win its first World Series since '45 and a division championship four years later.

Kaline was a fixture in rightfield for two decades, collecting 3,007 hits en route, certainly, to the Hall of Fame. Freehan was merely the finest defensive catcher in the history of the game, according to the record books. Cash bashed out 373 home runs to rank second behind Kaline in Tiger history. And Northrup, while he might not have had the careers the others had, led the Tigers in hits twice, in home runs once, in RBIs twice and in average once. For their careers, Kaline ranks in the top 10 in all 12 of the team's offensive categories, Cash in nine of them, Freehan in six and Northrup in one.

So, altogether, quite a collection of ball players. THEY WERE gathered again Monday to engage in a little myth making and film making as the Ron LeFlore story continues to be shot in Tiger Stadium. The crew took some action shots last Saturday and was back in the ball park Monday to begin three more days of shooting. The scene: 1973 and LeFlore is on an eight-hour leave from the state prison in Jackson. On the recommendation of prisoner Jim Karalla and bar owner Jimmy Butsicaris, he is trying out in front of manager Billy Martin and some of the Tigers.

According to the script, LeFlore is belting the ball all over the place. Though there isn't any pitcher on the mound, and no baseball, actor Levar Burton, who is portraying LeFlore, keeps swinging the bat mightily, tongue hanging out, while the camera rolls. "Look at the size of those hands," says Freehan in amazement. "Good thing he isn't a catcher." "He's too smart to be a catcher," says Northrup. "If he's so fast, how come they caught him?" ad libs Cash.

VESTED SUMMER i i 1 1 SUITS IN FINE FABRICS, BY RATNER OF CALIFORNIA AND OTHER OUTSTANDING Scars are still showing for Irish's Dan Devine ST. LOUIS Poor Dan Devine. The man came to address the Mid-America Press Institute seminar on sports writing Monday, and on the surface he gave a very nice talk. He was friendly and filled his remarks with touches of humor. But underneath it all, you could feel the man was seething and maybe holding back from saying all of the things that were really on his mind.

I guess he still bears the scars of all the things that were written about this head football coach when his Notre Dame team got off to that stumbling start. And I guess winning the National Championship hasn't eased much of the anguish for him. It must be tough to be the coach of the top-rated football team in the land and feel in your heart that some people are still waiting for you to falter. As you recall, Devine was hardly anyone's favorite at the start of last season. The Irish opened with a poor performance against Pittsburgh and followed it up by losing to LSU.

It was as if he was personally besmirching the proud name of Notre Dame. The truth is, Devine was not very popular In his first two years at Notre Dame because he was very private and not all that friendly. And when, in his third season, his team got off to such a shabby start, there were all kinds of unhappi-ness with him. They compared him to Ara Parseghian and they compared him to Frank Leahy and they compared him to Knute Rockne. Perhaps these were unfair comparisons but they were still made and he suffered badly in the public eye.

In fact, a lot of people were crying for his scalp as the Irish wobbled through those first two games. Destroying Texas did tlie trick It all turned around suddenly and dramatically until the Irish became the most terrifying team in the land, climaxing a remarkable comeback by destroying Texas in the Cotton Bowl. They were absolutley awesome aganinst Texas. That was the day Devine should have silenced all of his critics. That was the day he should have risen to the top of his world.

Ovbviously, deep hurts don't go away that quickly. Devine's performance on Monday was unexpected. It wasn't what he said to this group of writers as much as what he didn't say. He said in the first 23 years he had been a coach he had never been misquoted. He said he had never even been misunderstood in all that time.

The inference was that he was now being misquoted as well as misunderstood. He listed all of the great writers he had known and went back to his days as an assistant at Michigan State through his head coaching jobs at Arizona State, Missouri and even with the Green Bay Packers. But, except for the mention of a few Chicago writers, he did not have anything nice to say about the current crop of writers. The inference this time is that they did not measure up to the old writers. It was strange Devine would use this moment to take such a backhanded slap because the group he was talking to hardly represented his critics.

These were mostly small town sports editors from places like Carbondale, 111. and Racine, and he could hardly have known what, if anything, they had written about him. His performance was very defensive and very sad because the audience expected more of him an insight into his profession and his feelings about the game of football. Instead, he took the opportunity to take a subtle swipe at what he felt were his detractors. Je'J take 14-13 win over U-M He spoke about having a playoff to determine the national champion but never documented his case.

He spoke of the impending game against Michigan, how he'd rather beat a team like the Wolverines 14-13 than run up a 48-0 score against But these came out extraneous comments he was drawn into. He preferred to dwell on the lack of understanding he was getting from the present day press. I found it to be a very sad interlude. Maybe this is what happens when you coach at Notre Dame. The pressures must be awesome.

The coach of the Irish is expected to do three things win, win, win. With no excuses, thank you. Listening to Devine, I got the feeling he was trying to Justify himself all the justification he needed was the way he turned the' team around last season and the way the team turned around for him. What the Irish did was amazing. They rallied from the edge of disaster and became the finest team in the country.

If his players didn't believe in him, they wouldn't have done what they did. Their performance should have been enough for Devine, but apparently it wasn't. He concluded his comments by saying he would be a friend to everyone in the room but if anyone wanted to "butcher" him up, go ahead. He said he was used to it. Everyone laughed.

It was a nervous kind of laughter. Whatever they're paying this man to coach football at South Bend, it isn't enough. THE 01 hrv '1 A 4 3 I HAND mfM' Li MAKERS, i a i 1 189.50. NOW 13995 Good oV glove! Aurelio uses same mitt since 1971 VESTED SUMMER SUITS BY JOHNNY CARSON OTHER T0PN0TCH MAKERS, WERE $150 TO $175, NOW 11985 mm 'iu-tm wywiH'iinnni wtir''ttt-r-h mi minium i n' i an limn- "finrh "Ty-iir-Tii-i rwiiiirtfimiiftitifi mi Ana iffiWtiirifhWiitirirnwkrftiiiiriiii iimiriinir rnuiUflnir By JIM HAWKINS Free Press Sports Writer One of the first things Aurelio Rodriguez did when he originally joined the Tigers in the spring of 1971 was to break in a new glove. Now, more than seven years, 1,025 games, and some 3,300 screaming line drives and hard hit grounders later, the Tigers' talented third baseman is still using that same mitt.

As you might expect, it's noticably frayed around the edges. The once bright brown leather is so faded that Rodriguez, out of embarrassment, paints the exterior with a thick coat of black shoe polish every two or three weeks so people will think the glove is new. And the pocket, which of course is the most important part of any glove, is as cracked and crusty as a dried-up river bed, and caked with crud. Neverthless, Rodriguez would sooner trot out on the field in front of a capacity crowd without his trousers than leave his trusty, not-so-golden glove behind. 4i JUST CAN'T use any other glove," admitted Rodriguez, who has worn that same mitt which he affectionately calls "Black Hand" in every game he has ever played as a Tiger.

"They don't feel comfortable. "I don't know how to explain how I feel about it. I've broken in a few other gloves over the years, but they never felt right. This one is just really comfortable. I have to use it." The Rawlings label and all other markings, such as the Please turn to Page 2C NOW THRU MAY 27.

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