The Dodgers’ eight World Series championships are individually worthy of a movie. With that in mind, we conclude with the final part of an eight-part series that takes one regular season game — a microcosm game for the team’s championship season — and treat it like a screenplay to a movie. The following is a true story of the 1955 World Series champions. The game is Dodgers vs. White Sox, March 9, 1955.
by Mark Langill
It was supposed to be a simple pitching change in Spring Training, a pair of left-handers going through the motions to get one day closer to the regular season.
Both were starters, so did it really matter who went first against the Chicago White Sox on March 9, 1955, in a “B” game at the Dodgers’ camp in Vero Beach, Florida?
But the career trajectories of Johnny Podres and Karl Spooner, New York natives who had signed with Brooklyn as amateur free agents prior to the 1951 season, forever changed that random Wednesday afternoon.
The regular exhibition games were scheduled to begin the next day. Five weeks to get ready before the season opener against the Pittsburgh Pirates at Ebbets Field on April 13.
Spooner entered 1955 as the “can’t-miss rookie phenom” with two Major League games under his belt late in the 1954 season after his promotion from Double-A Fort Worth. Both were shutouts and Spooner struck out a combined 27 batters against the New York Giants and Pittsburgh Pirates.
His 15 strikeouts against the Giants on Sept. 22 were the most by a pitcher in his Major League debut. Add a dozen Ks four days later, and he had the record for the most strikeouts in two consecutive games by any National League pitcher, not just a rookie.
Surely, the Dodgers would’ve had a better chance against the Giants if they had used “Spooner sooner,” as the fans lamented the second-place finish, five games behind the eventual 1954 World Champions.
Spooner had the entire winter to bask in the glory of his two starts, which included a parade in his hometown of Oriskany Falls, New York.
Podres, on the other hand, wasn’t a phenom. But he did pitch in the 1953 World Series at age 21, so the potential was there. So was the moxie. During his youth, Podres loved to be the life of the party. Any party.
When it was time to sign his contract for the 1955 season, Podres posed for photographers by leaning back in his chair and propping his feet on the desk.
Only it wasn’t just any desk. It belonged to Walter O’Malley, the team president. O’Malley went along with the gag and even offered his own pose — offering Podres a cigar like he was the king of the Brooklyn borough.
Who knew? Maybe Podres indeed would become a Brooklyn hero.
Podres didn’t need to act like a potential World Series MVP against the White Sox. On a side field in front of maybe 100 fans on March 9, it was just get the work done.
But baseball isn’t a factory assembly line. There are occasional hits and baserunners — sometimes too many in one inning. That was the case of Podres, who was supposed to pitch three innings. When it appeared obvious that two innings was the max in his gas tank, manager Walter Alston summoned Spooner.
It was his first appearance in a Dodger uniform since the shutout against the Pirates. Maybe Spooner thought he was wearing a Superman cape instead of the gray flannel jersey with the No. 48.
Did he have to impress anyone? Well, maybe. Life Magazine had asked the Dodgers if Spooner was available for a photo shoot.
Podres started and ended his day sooner than expected.
Spooner quickly warmed up — maybe too fast.
And maybe he threw the ball too fast that afternoon, a natural byproduct of his past six months in the spotlight.
During his three innings against the White Sox, Spooner felt a pulling sensation in his shoulder while pitching to outfielder Jim Rivera. It was a hard and effective curveball.
After Spooner showered in the clubhouse, he had trouble putting on his shirt because of the increasing pain in his shoulder. At age 23, Spooner wasn’t going to announce he was injured. Everyone knew about the cartilage removed from his right knee during the offseason. Spooner reported the knee felt fine.
Nobody asked about his shoulder.
Elsewhere in the clubhouse, the famous names roamed about, a typical business day. There was catcher Roy Campanella — the two-time National League MVP — alongside veterans Jackie Robinson, Pee Wee Reese, Gil Hodges, Duke Snider and Don Newcombe.
“Wait ’til next year!” was the famous Brooklyn battle cry when their heroes lost the World Series, which had occurred five times against the New York Yankees since 1941. Maybe Spooner and Podres could wait a year, but the “Boys of Summer” veterans were running out of time to win a championship.
The immediate question for Spooner while he sat in the Vero Beach clubhouse with the arm bothering him was: How long would linger?
Did the Dodgers’ apparent lottery ticket fall in that Vero Beach clubhouse? Maybe Spooner was the guy who was going to finally help the Dodgers overcome the Yankees in October.
Or maybe that ticket was left for someone else to pick up. Say, maybe the guy who started that game in Vero Beach.
The other left-hander. Johnny Podres.
1955 Championship Year, a Symbolic Game: Hope springs eternal was originally published in Dodger Insider on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.