Yearbook Flashbacks - Feature #1

Baseball in Vancouver: The Boom Years
By: Lowell Ullrich - 1989

Admittedly, there was a certain amount of disbelief when the call first came.

"We're doing a look back at the three main eras of baseball history in Vancouver," the editor said. "We've got Krieger and Boyd working on the Capilanos and Mounties. We want you to do a piece on the history of the Canadians."

"History of the Canadians? How can there be any history when something is only 11 years old? What could possibly be of significance compared to those other two eras?"

"There's money involved," the editor said.

The footprint of baseball in the 1980's in these parts hasn't really had time to even set, but come to think of it, quite a bit has taken place since they brought baseball back for the third, and hopefully final time.

All of this is due to a man who doesn't come by much anymore but who will never be forgotten. Harry Ornest won't let you forget.

There hasn't been that much time fly by to forget the fact that Ornest was to baseball what Tom Scallen was first to hockey in Vancouver.

There have been many people who wanted a team; these guys went out and did something to make it happen.

Ornest's vision of baseball here was a little different than most, but Harry was a different type of guy.

Remember the fights he had with Erwin Swangard, whose Multiplex stadium on the PNE site was just the thing that would bring the Major Leagues here overnight?

The first thing for Ornest, of course, was to get baseball back in the community; worry what was to become of B.C. Place and the Majors later.

The first year C's of 1978 wasn't exactly a big budget operation. A morning newspaper of note, chronicles the tale of a 12-year old vendor who said that Harry O was too cheap.

Fred Whitcare thought the same thing. Whitcare was Ornest's first general manager but he didn't even last until opening day, leaving for the Whitecaps and what appeared to be greener pastures. Say what you will, many did; but the man did get the game back in town.

The first season was under the affiliation of the Oakland A's, most notable for the fact there were no fewer than 78 player moves between the big club and Vancouver in '78.

But a period of stability set in once that season ended.

The Milwaukee Brewers became tenants at Nat Bailey Stadium from 1979 through 1986. For a young reporter who somehow got roped into the thankless task of being official scorer for a few years as well, there was no shortage of memories.

At spring training, a person quickly learned the value of staying loose. This lesson was delivered by none other than former Vancouver Province scribe Clancy Loranger. The annual trip to the Brewers' spring training headquarters outside Phoenix always including just a bit of socializing, maybe even the odd spirit, and none enjoyed it more than Clancy.

When the driver opened up the side door on the van carrying the media mob one year, he forgot Loranger was leaning heavily on the partition, causing Vancouver's favourite morning man to come crashing on to the pavement below.

Typical Loranger, he righted himself quickly and made the call.

"Safe!"

You had to be there.

There was comedy on the field as well. Not so much with the '79 and '80 teams, managed by Bob Felske and Bob Didier which each qualified for the playoffs. The comedians were in the clubhouse.

Probably the biggest actor of them all was Willie Mueller, whose relief work made him just as laughable on the field some nights as he was in the locker room. Mueller's claim to fame probably comes in the fact he work up a young reporter one day by hurling a mound of ice at his back, presumably to ask if he co-write his memoirs.

An equally classless move belonged to infielder Lawrence Rush (1980-82). Rush was Allan Elconin's post-game show guest on the final day of the regular season, but instead of getting the review of the year that had ended, Rush decided to give an unflattering review on the radio of the restaurant that awarded free meals to interview subjects.

Handling the duties of official scorer was a lot like running in the dark as well, at least that's what a lot of players felt, who treated the position with as much respect as they would an umpire.

Most players felt that a call that did not go their way was a direct threat on their livelihood. Heck, the difference between hitting .199 and .200 might be the one that gets to the big leagues, right?

The worst example of begging belongs to a now highly-forgettable Hawaii pitcher, Ed Yandle, who came cap in hand arguing, would you believe, for an error for one of his teammates one night.

"If you don't make that an unearned run," he said. "I don't think I'll be able to feed my wife and two kids next month".

Despite the early hi-jinxs though, the game started to take a foothold.

The presence of Jack Quinn, and later his former assistant Stu Kehoe, as general manager had much to do with the turnaround. The Brewers also started sending decent players.

This was not immediately apparent in the years in which Dick Phillips, Tony Muser and Sam Suplizio managed. (Suplizio? He was the bank manager the Brewers brought in for ten days when Quinn had Phillips removed and a successor was being sought).

The turnaround coincided when the Brewers brought in a part-time school teacher from Portland named Tom Treblehorn to run things in the '85 season.

Treblehorn, a studious sort who was, and is, the only C's manager to ever type out his lineup card each night, also became the only manager to win a PCL (Pacific Coast League) title.

Strange as it might seem, the '86 team managed by Terry Bevington argulably had the best collection of talent even though it was edged in the deciding game of the league finals.

If Krieger won't name his all-time Capilanos all-stars there's no sense doing the same here, but there have been some good ones to hang their hats in the third base dugout.

Mark Bomback and Mike Norris immediately come to mind, as does Glenn Braggs. Joey Meyer wins any popularity contest easily.

If it was an all-time team, the candidates would have to include Buster Keaton, Kuni Ogawa and Izzy Oquendo. The winner would be Randy Ready, a baseball name if there ever was one.

There have been some characters all right. Some are still with us; others, like Ken Van Hatten, who are not.

They make a person realize that without them, there would be no reason to show up on a cold April night, or even a warm Sunday afternoon in August for that matter either.

Lowell Ullrich covered the Canadians for the Vancouver Province starting in 1979.