The Giants of Casa Grande

In late February, 1979, I drove from cold, white and barren Saskatoon, Saskatchewan to sunny and warm Apache Junction, Arizona. Most of my time was spent with relatives in this relatively new (at the time) suburb of Phoenix. Every morning, I hit golf-balls at a nearby driving range, visited my Aunt in the afternoon and, at night, played an extraordinary number of card games with other more-distant relations.

I did manage to sneak away from all of this in order to take a side trip to Casa Grande, a city of 150 thousand to 200 thousand a little south of Apache Junction / Phoenix. Just outside of Casa Grande proper was the Francisco Grande Hotel and Resort, complete with accompanying baseball diamonds, a big baseball-bat-shaped swimming pool, an adjoining whirlpool in the shape of a baseball, a massive parking lot shaped like a catcher’s mitt and a 7400-yard, 18-hole golf course (the longest in Arizona at the time).

This is the facility which, for about 20 seasons beginning in 1962, housed the Spring Training of the San Francisco Giants. These are the facilities that, at one time, were used by baseball greats like Willie Mays, Juan Marichal and the Alou Brothers. This year, however, was 1979 and the only real remaining icon from the mid-to-late 60s in the hotel and on the grounds was Willie McCovey. One-time star pitcher for the Oakland Athletics, Vida Blue had been picked up by the Giants the previous spring as well. I arrived right at the end of the time when pitchers and catchers were finishing their initial training and just when the rest of the team was showing up. There was no action on any of the fields when I first got there so I parked and went into the hotel lobby. The hotel was buzzing with players arriving and with scouts and reporters. The list of characters inside was sort of like a “who’s who” of Giants’ baseball at the time. I was hoping to see Maury Wills, who had been hired by the Giants the year before as a special coach to help them with baserunning and base-stealing (which I guess sort of worked because they had a winning record that year and won a record – 41 one-run ball games in the 1978 season). However, his services were no longer needed and as I found out later, he had been released so it was not to be (consequently, the Giants lost most of those one-run games in 1979 and they finished with a 71-91 record). Damn!!!

As I looked around the lobby, it was impossible, not to notice Willie McCovey talking to Bill Madlock and a few other players like Jack Clark and Darrell Evans.

As there were only reporters around and not a lot of fans, it was fairly easy to get autographs from the players.

The usual line-ups and squabbles to get close to players were non-existent so I was able to get quite a few that morning including John Montefusco, Willie McCovey, Bill Madlock, Jack Clark, Larry Herndon and Darrell Evans.

I also picked up signatures from former Giants’ players, catcher Tom Haller and infielder Jim Davenport and now-manager Joe Altobelli. I had anticipated the presence of many players and coaches so I was well-equipped with index cards and pens. Had I known I would be visiting Francisco Grande before I left Saskatoon, I probably would have brought along some baseball cards of the players to be signed. It was also long before I had started to collect jerseys so I had none of those with me either. After I had collected a few autographs and walked around amongst some of the baseball greats of the time, I wandered outside and through the parking lot, back to my truck. Behind the seat I kept a Pete Rose autographed model Louisville Slugger baseball bat. I also had my glove and single baseball as well as my cleats. Back in the 70s I considered these items to be essential when travelling anywhere so they came with me wherever I roamed. I gathered them up along with five or six golf balls from my golf bag which also accompanied me on every trip and I made my way to the main diamond on the resort.

In those days there were no gates holding you in or out of the field (especially when there were no players working out), so I was able to walk right onto the infield and throw the ball around at the backstop and take a few practice swings standing at the plate (right-handed, of course, just like Willie Mays). I imagined that he had stood in that very same position hundreds of times in his day. It was so cool to be right there. I tossed the ball in the air and batted it to the outfield and it didn’t even roll as far as the outfield fence (which I knew would be the case so that’s why I brought the golf balls). I then stood in the right-hand batter’s box and readied myself, tossed a #2 Titleist golf ball (and I know it was that particular ball because that is all I ever used in those days) into the air and swung the bat.

The contact was sweet and I watched as the golf ball rose into the air and sailed over the fence in left-centerfield. I dropped the bat and trotted around the bases waving my arms to the imaginary crowd who cheered for my walk-off efforts here at Francisco Grande Training Resort. As I was able to hit the first golf ball out, I didn’t try any more. I packed up my stuff, took one last look at the field and walked back to my truck, got in and drove back to Apache Junction. On my way back, I stopped by a cactus and had my picture taken, just to put an exclamation point on the day.

On returning, my card partners asked how my day was. I replied that it was pretty normal. I had hung out with some of the guys, played a little catch, hit a few balls – one of them a solo homer to left-center and then drove north to Apache Junction. A lot of things happened in my life in 1979, but that day and its events will be one that I certainly never forget.