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Saturday, August 25, 2007
Braves find a winner in moving Johnson to second
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Furman Bisher
These are not the best of times for the Braves, once they get past Smoltz and Hudson. There’s no more comfort in looking ahead to the appointed closer, but closing has been more a “crashing” of late. Thus, turning elsewhere to find something to cheer about, let’s settle on Kelly Johnson, solid, clean-cut, a day-in, day-out player, more a station wagon than a sports-car kind of guy.
The first time John Schuerholz saw Kelly Johnson, he knew the Braves had something there. He was barely out of a Texas high school, but there was a calm about him you didn’t find in teenagers. Not only that, but he could handle a bat. Here was an infielder who could hit, and so the story was off and running.
It came to a sudden halt last season when he had to have the kind of surgery usually reserved for pitchers, and bears the name of one, Tommy John. A cold, hard winter lay ahead, but Schuerholz didn’t allow it to go to waste. He took upon himself two gambles: (1) he handed first base to a raw rookie, Scott Thorman, and (2) he made Kelly Johnson a project. Not one who has to be tailed by a detective after hours.
“I looked out my office window on cold, gray days and there he was, out there working with Glenn Hubbard, one of the best second baseman I ever saw at turning a double play,” the Braves general manager said. “Day after day he and Kelly were going at it, hundreds and hundreds of ground balls.”
Marcus Giles was about to be de-chaired, not only saving the Braves a substantial payroll hit, but inventing a new model second baseman. Johnson had played shortstop but never second base, and there is a difference, especially making the double play. That’s the drill Hubbard put him through mainly.
“It’s different. It’s like looking at in a mirror. At shortstop, you’re coming across the bag looking to the ball. From second, you run into the ball and you have to turn to make the relay,” Johnson said. “It’s just the opposite of everything I’d done before. I wasn’t so sure how it was going to turn out, but I’ve begun to get comfortable.”
Drill, drill, drill, day after day, come rain, shine or chill. “I’ll tell you this,” Bobby Cox said, “he’s as good as Lemke or Hubbard now, and this is just his first year,” speaking of Mark Lemke, second baseman on the Braves’ pennant winner and team MVP of the World Series of ‘91.
If the contest is open for Most Valuable Surprise of the season, the nomination is made: It’s Johnson. At the end of April, he was hitting .321, five home runs and 15 runs batted in. Schuerholz held his breath. He was batting .500 himself, for as it turned out, Thorman wasn’t ready for front-line duty. Second base is not an “out” position when it comes to bat production. Some of the game’s great hitters have been second basemen: Rogers Hornsby, Frankie Frisch, Charley Gehringer, and, to throw in a present-day batsman, Jeff Kent. There is no “banjo” in Johnson’s bat. He hits doubles in clusters, has 13 home runs, and drives in runs, and he goes about it with quiet confidence.
He doesn’t waste words, and he doesn’t deal in acrobatics. His transformation into a second baseman is complete, and if you’re looking for noise in the clubhouse, it won’t be Johnson. He comes, he goes, he speaks in mild tones, and you might call him the All-Texan Kid. A clubhouse full of Kelly Johnsons would be a manager’s dream.
“He’s just a great kid,” Cox said, “just look at the way he has handled all this. He gets a job and he does it. He’s as good as anybody in the league,” which is pretty strong stuff for a guy who had to be given an escort to second base.
“Bright, athletic, all those intelligent elements,” Schuerholz said. “He’s light years ahead of Giles [who happens to be hitting in the .220s at San Diego],” spoken with the pride of a father.
And don’t forget the patience of Glenn Hubbard. “He gave me all that time,” Kelly said, “day after day, ground balls by the hundreds.”
The “project” has turned out well. Scott Thorman, well, that’s another case that’ll have to wait until another day.
Permalink | Comments (17) | Categories: Braves / MLB, Furman Bisher
Notre Dame vs. Tech a classic matchup
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Furman Bisher
Off and on, Georgia Tech has been playing Notre Dame since 1922, for better or worse, and more times than not, for worse. Anytime Notre Dame is on the schedule, the floodlights go up, trumpets sound, bugles blare and the nation’s eyes are upon you, as they will be the first day of September in South Bend. Only five of the 33 times Georgia Tech has played Notre Dame have the Yellow Jackets come away in celebration.
No, make that six. (We’ll get around to that later.) The series record reads 27-5-1. It’s the “1” that takes the stage here, one of the monumental views I’ve ever had from a press box. And there have been some show-stoppers in this infrequent series. Twice, the Jackets have handed the Irish defeat under the circumspection of Touchdown Jesus.
Take you back to 1942 and a freshman named Clint Castleberry, still a mystical figure in Georgia Tech football history. A local kid, not of national renown, Castleberry so rattled the Irish that Tech upset them in South Bend 13-6 and in the process ensured himself of All-America status. Sadly, he never had another season. Somewhere out of North Africa the bomber he was piloting during World War II disappeared, and he was never heard from again. His jersey still hangs among Tech’s display of historic memorabilia.
The fuse was lit, and something was bound to explode in 1953, when Tech, saddling an unbeaten streak of 31 games, rode into South Bend. Naturally, the Irish were favored, particularly since Bobby Dodd elected to start a freshman quarterback, Wade Mitchell. The weather was gray. The stadium was stuffed and the heavily bundled spectators were full of negative charm. This was the game in which Frank Leahy failed to appear after halftime, stricken by a pancreatic attack in the locker room. The game turned on a high snap and a blocked punt, and the Irish won 27-14. Names of the perpetrators, one dead, the other long retired, are omitted here in the interest of good sport.
Six years later Georgia Tech returned to South Bend, this time with more exhilirating results. Snow had fallen overnight, and the campus was scenic in its whiteness. Should have been Notre Dame kind of weather, but Marvin Tibbetts took control at quarterback, and with a surge from Taz Anderson, then a fullback, he scored both touchdowns and managed a 14-l0 victory, most definitely an upset.
Tech never won again until 1976, which, it turned out, was not a partcularly good year — Pepper Rodgers’ team put up a 4-6-1 record — but Saturday, Nov. 6 was a good day. It was a rare game in that the Jackets never threw a pass. Gary Lanier, a stubby little quarterback, kept the ball on the ground, and Tech humiliated Notre Dame at Grant Field 23-14. The most memorable view remaining is the sight of the Notre Dame coach Dan Devine striding out on the field holding a fish in his hand for an official to see, one delivered by some knave in the student section. Devine wanted divine intervention, but got none.
Now, about that “1,” the one tie in the series. The year was 1980, Bill Curry’s first as head coach. Tech had beaten Memphis State and no one else. Alabama, Florida, North Carolina, even Tulane had shredded the poor Yellow Jackets. Notre Dame rode into Grant Field No. l in the nation. It was the same day Georgia was playing Florida in the glamour game of the season, the “run, Lindsay, run” game. Nobody was paying attention to Grant Field, except a few devout football Catholics.
Tech’s starting quarterback, Mike Kelley, was hurt. Two replacements came on and got nothing done, but neither did Notre Dame. Curry turned to a player who had been recruited as an end, and sent him in with the cautionary message: “Whatever you do, don’t dare throw a pass.”
The kid — he was from Augusta — maneuvered into field-goal position late in the third quarter, and Johnny Smith kicked a field goal. Incredibly, Tech led 3-0. Late in the fourth quarter, Notre Dame’s Harry Oliver kicked a wobbler through the pipes, and the Irish got out of town with a tie. Since everybody else on our staff wanted to be in Jacksonville, I got the short straw, but I got to see one of the most memorable games of my life.
Oh, the name of the freshman “quarterback” from Augusta — it was Ken Whisenhunt, later an NFL end for the Falcons and Redskins, and now, as you may have noticed, head coach of the Arizona Cardinals. So there you are, and Georgia Tech returns to South Bend to open the season this year. Nothing will ever match the tie of 1980, and as it turned out, Georgia later completed a state sweep. The Bulldogs played Notre Dame in the Sugar Bowl for the national championship, and won.
Permalink | Comments (21) | Categories: Furman Bisher, Tech / ACC
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