Helluva Ball Club

First in war. First in peace. Last in the American League. —
Legendary pundit remark about the old Washington Senators (later the Texas
Rangers, formerly owned by President Bush).

There is something about baseball, war and
commanders-in-chief that eternally binds us to our national pastime. Presidents
want the baseball teams to play, and the fans want to take their minds off of
wars, economic problems and domestic troubles. So it’s a win-win situation.

Such is baseball, where hope springs eternal. It is FDR
throwing out one of his 11 first pitches on opening day during the Great
Depression and later during World War II. A confident JFK in 1963 — just six
months after the Cuban Missile Crisis and seven months before his assassination
— is seen smiling in a famous photo tossing out the first pitch in Washington.

No matter how intense world affairs are, there is something
comforting and consistent about baseball, and it even gives the president a
moment of relief from pressing issues.

For this die-hard Angels fan, 2002 helped me through a most
difficult period in my own life. The Angels captured their first World Series
title. I could now fully understand why even presidents have found it so
necessary to take a moment to enjoy this relaxing, yet emotion-filled sport.

I have followed the Angels since they were known as the Los
Angeles Angels and played in Dodger Stadium. There are not too many of us who
have rooted for President Richard Nixon’s favorite team.

Even fewer Jews — and they love their baseball anywhere,
anytime — dared trek to the then very WASPish and John Birch Society Orange
County in the early years to see the Angels. The team moved to Anaheim (a city
named by a German Jewish landowner in honor of a burg in his native country) in
1966, when the trees were orange, the people white and Disneyland was the
greatest place on Earth.

The only angels Jews have faith in are Michael, Gabriel,
Raphael and Uriel from our bedtime prayers. From the perspective of the Jewish
baseball fan, his or her loyalty has mostly belonged to the Dodgers.

Arguably, they have traditionally been Jewish America’s
team. When they played in Brooklyn, they had more than a million Jews pulling
for them.

They appealed to the Jews’ love of the underdog and
seemingly had the only fans to yell with joy about the arrival of the first
black major league player — Jackie Robinson — who made his debut significantly
on Passover Eve 1947, the festival of freedom from bondage.

A decade later and a transfer to Los Angeles, along comes a
shy, soft-spoken lefty named Sandy Koufax. He was a representative of
everything a Jewish fan most admired. He was handsome with his pronounced left
dimple, intelligent, tall and a mensch on and off the field.

 A proud Jew, Koufax wouldn’t pitch in the first game of the
World Series in 1965 because it fell on Yom Kippur. He made up for his
adherence to a higher calling in synagogue by pitching brilliantly on just two
days’ rest between starts to give the Dodgers the championship.

Then the unthinkable happened. Koufax broke his covenant
with the Dodgers in February over an untrue gossip item that appeared in a New
York newspaper that happens to also be owned by the same company that controls
the Dodgers. That piece angered Koufax, not to mention his legion of loyal

So what are Jewish fans to do about the divorce between
Koufax and the Dodgers? Short of a Shawn Green 50-homer season, fans might want
to look down I-5 and take a serious look at my Angels.

It may seem like eating brisket on white bread, but there
are a lot of hidden Jewish Angel connections both now and in their virtually
unknown past.

The media played up the fact that the Angels are playing for
the “Singing Cowboy in the Sky,” the late Gene Autry, their longtime owner who
could never quite bring the team to the pennant.

That was until a new owner came in 1999 from the Magic
Kingdom. Michael D. Eisner, chairman and CEO of the Walt Disney Co., who grew
up in Manhattan rooting for the Yankees, bought the Angels. He completely
overhauled the team like the prince in the “Beauty and the Beast.” This team is
a Walt Disney production all the way.

Last year’s team included two Jewish players — pitchers Al
Levine and Scott Schoeneweis. To give you an idea of how significant a
milestone this is, most teams don’t have even one Jewish player. The most Jews
a team has ever had on its roster at one time was four (the Los Angeles Dodgers
once had three — Sandy Koufax and the brothers Larry and Norm Sherry from

If Major League Baseball had been more willing to just say
no to then-Dodgers owner Walter O’Malley in 1960, a group of high-profile
Jewish investors — not Autry — would have been the original owners of the
Angels. Angel fans would probably not have had to wait so long for a pennant.

Here’s the inside story: In 1960, Hank Greenberg, another
prominent Jewish baseball star from an earlier era, put a syndicate together to
establish and purchase a Los Angeles-based American League expansion team.
O’Malley, the Dodgers’ owner, feared Greenberg and didn’t want an American
League team in Los Angeles at all.

Greenberg would have put together a ball club that would
seriously compete against the Dodgers in a short time on both the playing field
and at the box office, and O’Malley knew it. As an executive, Greenberg helped
bring a world championship to Cleveland in 1948 and a pennant to the Chicago
White Sox in 1959.

From 1958-60, O’Malley’s Dodgers were broadcast on Gene
Autry’s radio station, 710 AM, but O’Malley complained he couldn’t hear the
games from his Los Angeles-area mountaintop home.

That ended O’Malley’s and Autry’s radio partnership but not
their “friendship.” O’Malley quietly arranged with the lords of baseball to transfer
the ownership option of the nascent Angels to an owner that couldn’t win. Thus,
Greenberg was “traded” for Autry.

The Angels would never seriously compete against O’Malley’s

So, as it says in Ecclesiastes, “futility of futilities.”
Years of near misses, last-place finishes, murders, suicides, sudden deaths of
players and guns in the clubhouse between feuding teammates became the norm.

While I am not suggesting that Jewish fans change their
allegiance (I like the Dodgers, too), people should realize that Autry’s Angels
actually had more Jewish players and executives in their history, even though
it didn’t help: