Keystones
Trammell to Whitaker to... oh, let's go with Cecil Fielder.
When I hear the word keystone, three things immediately spring to mind. The first is keystone cops, a silent film series from the early twentieth century about a group of bumbling, slapstick police officers. I’ve never actually seen a keystone cops movie, but the term has become synonymous for any sort of bumbling ineptitude. The second thing is the beer, perhaps best known for its “bitter beer face” commercials in the 90’s.
Now, I’m not proud to admit it, but I probably could fill up a few pages about cruising around a small Midwest town and convincing guys in jean jackets to buy a bunch of underage kids thirty-packs of cheap beer, but that’s not what this newsletter is about. We’re here to talk about baseball, and that brings me to the third meaning of keystone.
The key to a good defense is being strong up the middle. At the far ends of this are the catcher and centerfielder, and in between them you have the second baseman and shortstop, who are commonly referred to as the keystone combo. This pair is so crucial because they not only patrol a good portion of the infield, but because they generally provide the foundation to any double play. In fact, the most common double play in baseball, the 6-4-3, is almost entirely dependent on their skills and speed. (If anyone is unfamiliar with the system, defenders in baseball have assigned numbers. 6 is the shortstop, 4 is the second baseman, and 3 is the first baseman. Thus, in a 6-4-3 double play, the ball is hit to the SS, who tosses it to 2B for the first out, and then the 2B throws it to first for the second.)
Modern shifts have tweaked this formula a bit, but even with them in effect, and especially since new limits on the shift were enacted in 2023, the keystone combo has remained a foundation of the game. This dates back to its earliest days. In fact, there was even an epic poem written about baseball’s first great keystone combo in the early 1900’s.
The poem was written by Franklin Pierce Adams, and it was titled “Baseball’s Sad Lexicon,” though it is probably more well-known by the refrain that runs through it, “Tinker to Evers to Chance.” Adams was a frustrated New York Giants fan, so the poem is both a reluctant homage and lament inspired by the Chicago Cubs’ talented double play connection, who had so much success against New York. In truth, the poem isn’t very good. I mean, I’m no literary critic and far be it from me to tell anyone else what to like, but it doesn’t move the needle for me. However, Adams’ poetic talent (or lack of) should not make you question the abilities of Tinker, Evers, and Chance.
Inducted into the Hall of Fame together in 1946, Joe Tinker (SS) and Johnny Evers (2B) were the premier double play combo of their era. Frank Chance (1B) filled out their triumvirate, powering the Cubs to back-to-back World Championships in 1907 and 1908, as well as literary immortality. I have a soft spot for Tinker, who was born in a small town called Muscotah, KS, roughly twenty-five minutes away from the farm where I grew up. All three have their names on flags flying over Wrigley Field, but when I attended my first game there in 2022, it was especially meaningful to see the local guy’s name fluttering in the summer breeze.
A number of great keystone combos have dug their cleats into the dirt of Major League diamonds in the century-plus since Tinker and Evers were in their prime, although, as a Royals fan, I haven’t had a chance to see many up close. This, despite the fact that the Royals organization has often prided itself on up-the-middle defense.
For sure, we’ve been spoiled with an abundance of outstanding centerfielders. I just missed out on Amos Otis, but I’ve written about how much I loved watching Willie Wilson play. Even when the Royals were at their lowest (present day excluded), they still had Carlos Beltran patrolling the expanse of Kauffman, and Lorenzo Cain was probably the best overall player on the teams that went to back-to-back World Series in 2014-15.
Catcher has often been a position of strength for KC as well. Not only have we had the great Salvador Perez behind the dish for the last decade, but we also had Mike Macfarlane for most of the 90’s and Jim Sundberg in the mid-80’s. And if you want to go back even further, to just before I started watching, you can add Darrell Porter into the mix. Not too shabby at all.
The middle infield is where things start to get a little iffy. True, I grew up watching one of the greatest defensive second basemen in baseball history, Frank White. White won eight Gold Gloves on his way to becoming a World Champion and KC legend, but he never played with a truly elite shortstop.
In the early to mid-80’s, White teamed with a combination of U.L. Washington, Onix Concepcion, and Buddy Biancalana. All three were memorable characters in their own right, but none could match White’s ability. Kurt Stillwell had the best year of his career in 1988, earning his lone All-Star appearance, but it would be disingenuous to put him in White’s class.
Chico Lind was a top shelf defender at 2B in the 90’s, though he lacked White’s bat, and while the combination of him with SS Greg Gagne wasn’t bad, I wouldn’t call it elite. During their most recent successful run, Alcides Escobar provided top notch defense and a surprisingly clutch bat, and after the Royals acquired Ben Zobrist at the 2015 trade deadline to replace the ineffective Omar Infante, the Royals might have had their best 2B-SS pairing of my lifetime. But they only played together for a half a season, and I daresay that no one has ever offered up Escobar and Zobrist as an all-time great double play combo.
So my hometown hasn’t provided me much help in writing this piece, but it hasn’t left me completely high and dry. For no other reason than random chance, and perhaps some scheduling quirks, I have probably seen the Royals play the Detroit Tigers more than any other team in baseball. This was especially true in my childhood. We might only make it to one or two games a year, but there was a better than average chance that the Tigers would be in town when we did. Just the way it worked out.
I’ve seen the Tigers play in Kansas City so many times that most of the games blur together. I’ve tried to go back and identify which specific games I attended as a kid with the help of Baseball Reference, and I’ve had better luck in this pursuit than you might think. Even without ticket stubs, I’ve got a good enough memory that as long as I can lock onto at least one standout moment, I can identify the game. But there’s just too much for all the Tigers games. So far, I’ve only been able to zero in on one game for certain.
I’ve written about this before, but the reason I remember the specific game that took place on August 15, 1987 is because they announced that Paul Molitor’s hit streak had hit 30 games. They even put it up on the old pixelated Crown Vision scoreboard. Molitor, of course, was not involved in the game we were watching at the K (the Brewers were playing in Baltimore that night), but the Tigers were in town.
Detroit won the game, 8-4. Doyle Alexander was on the mound for the Tigers, having been acquired earlier that season from Atlanta for some no-name prospect named John Smoltz, though he picked up a no-decision. Danny Jackson took the loss for the Royals. Frank White doubled and Lonnie Smith hit a homer for KC. George Brett and Willie Wilson both went 1-3. But the real stars were wearing road grays and navy blue hats that night.
The place came alive in the top of the first when the leadoff hitter for Detroit stepped into the box. Fans cupped their hands around their mouths and called out to the batter at the top of their lungs, raining down upon him a sound inflected with a heavy, almost threatening bass. I assumed they were booing him. They weren’t. They were shouting, “LOU!”
This was the common greeting for Lou Whitaker whenever he came up to bat, and not just in Detroit, as this game proved. He got it all around the league, though his initial reaction to it during his debut in Detroit was much the same as mine. He thought the hometown fans were booing him, which was especially puzzling because he would get the same reaction whenever he got a base hit or made a great defensive play. At first, it threw him a bit, until he realized they were actually saluting him.
And that’s what we were doing in KC, though it took me a minute to catch on. That’s the effect Sweet Lou had on baseball fans. I wouldn’t say the Tigers were a rival of the Royals at the time— certainly there was nothing of the animosity that existed between Kansas City and the Yankees in the late 70’s and early 80’s. The two teams played in different divisions at the time, but they were regularly among the top contenders in the AL, and they had matched up against each other in the 1984 ALCS, a series the Tigers had swept in three games. So there was no reason why Royals fans should have any warm feelings toward Detroit or any of its players. But Lou Whitaker was the exception.
Regardless of team allegiance, anyone who loved baseball couldn’t help but respect Lou Whitaker. Hell, respect might not go far enough. I’m sure there are Lou-haters out there, but I’ve never actually encountered one. Whitaker was one of the greatest second basemen to ever pick up a glove, and he was a joy to watch. Along with his partner, SS Alan Trammell, they formed arguably the best keystone combo in baseball history. Certainly the best I’ve ever seen.
The two of them are so interconnected in Detroit Tiger and baseball lore that it’s virtually impossible to talk about one of them without mentioning the other. Their chemistry was so strong that it wouldn’t surprise me to discover that they were born on the same day in the same hospital with adjoining rooms or that they were secretly half-brothers with the same dad or something. Alas, no evidence for any of that has yet to come to light, but their history does predate their partnership at old Tiger Stadium.
Whitaker and Trammel are both great examples of what has become an endangered species— a baseball player who spends their whole career with a single team. But their partnership goes back even farther than that. They came up through the Detroit farm system together, first teaming up in winter ball in 1977 and AA. Not only did this give them a head-start on building their chemistry in the middle infield, to the point where they almost appeared to be telepathic in their fluid play together, but it also laid the groundwork for a tight-knit friendship off the field.
The two of them leaned on each other for support and comfort through the ups and downs of minor league ball, and fittingly, they both made their Major League debut on September 9, 1977 against Boston. Trammell recorded two hits, and Lou went 3-5 with a double, an RBI, and a stolen base. More good things would follow. Like, a whole lot of really good things. Let’s take a quick peak at their career stats.
The stats prove that far from merely being defensive specialists, both of them could swing the bat as well. Batting 1-2 for most of their careers, they fueled the Tiger lineup to many early leads and set the table for a revolving cast of sluggers in the heart of the order. Their crowning achievement was winning the 1984 World Series, of which Trammell was named the MVP. He hit .450 with 2 HR, 1 Double, and 1 SB. Both of his HRs came in Game 4, accounting for all of Detroit’s runs in a 4-2 victory. Whitaker was on base for both dingers.
In addition to a world championship, the two of them also filled their shelves with plenty of individual accolades. Whitaker was the AL Rookie of the Year in 1978, and was selected to five All-Star Games. Trammell was selected the 1983 Comeback Player of the Year after battling injuries the previous two season, and was elected to 6 All-Star Games himself. He won four Gold Gloves and three Silver Sluggers. Whitaker juxtaposed this with three Gold Gloves and four Silver Sluggers. Only eight keystone combos have ever won Gold Gloves in the same season, and Whitaker and Trammell did it twice (1983-84).
Whitaker and Trammel played nineteen seasons together, becoming the longest running keystone combo ever. In 1995, they played in their 1,915th game, breaking the previous AL record of most games played together between teammates, which had been held by George Brett and Frank White. As is often the case with aging ballplayers, nagging injuries took a toll on both of them in the 90’s, and Whitaker called it a career following the 1995 season. Not a bad run for a fatherless kid who grew up with crooked legs. Lacking money to pay a doctor, his devoted uncles worked him out every day in an effort to strengthen young Lou’s legs, and whatever they were doing seemed to have worked.
Trammell described their relationship as kind of a second marriage, and he was struck by how strange it felt to play without Lou in 1996. Feeling the effects of two decades of wear and tear himself, he hung up his cleats the following offseason. Their careers mirrored each other so closely, not only in stats and individual accomplishments, but also in more unexpected ways. For example, each of them even has an embarrassing injury on their resume.
Of course, I’m sure no one in Detroit was laughing at the time, but with the aid of hindsight, it’s hard not to see the humor. Whitaker’s came in 1988, when he tore some cartilage in his knee while doing the splits dancing with his wife during an anniversary party. Trammell’s gaffe was five years earlier, on his way to a Halloween party. Dressed as Frankenstein’s monster, he fell into some bushes and injured his knee.
Luckily, Trammell’s injury occurred during the offseason, and he was able to have surgery and bounce back for the Tigers’ championship run in 1984. Lou’s pratfall was more costly, as it came in September while the Tigers were in the midst of a pennant race. Detroit won the AL East in 1987, before losing to the Twins in the ALCS, but the lingering injury to Lou was too much to overcome in 1988. They finished a game back of the Red Sox.
There’s another funny Whitaker story I’d like to share real quick before I wrap this up. In 1985, Sweet Lou was elected to his third All-Star Game, but he wanted to spend as much time as he could with his family over the break before he had to report to the game in Minneapolis. He did this, and in his haste to get to the ballpark, he forgot the bag with his uniform and equipment.
Scrambling, he borrowed a batting helmet from Cleveland pitcher Bert Blyleven and a spare glove from Cal Ripken Jr. But the best part was his uniform improvisation. Whitaker bought a cheap mesh Detroit jersey from a Metrodome gift shop, and either he or a Twins’ clubhouse attendant used a black magic marker to scribble his number 1 on the back of it with a stencil. This type of eccentricity wasn’t terribly unusual for Sweet Lou, and while it may not have endeared him to many clubhouse workers, it only tended to make average fans like myself love him even more.
That makeshift jersey is now in the Smithsonian, and Lou’s number 1 is retired in Detroit. The ceremony took place in 2022. It was supposed to happen earlier, but was pushed back due to COVID. Trammel’s number 3 was retired in 2018, and he spoke at the celebration for Whitaker, acknowledging that there was no way his number 3 would have ever been worthy of retirement if not for the partnership with Lou’s number 1. He expressed relief that he and Whitaker were together again in this honor, and admitted his discomfort that he had ever been up there without his keystone teammate.
Apparently, the Hall of Fame doesn’t feel the same. While both players are fixtures in the Tigers HOF, so far only Trammell has received a phone call from Cooperstown. I don’t have an explanation why this is so. I don’t like to assume people’s internal motivations, especially when it comes to a touchy subject like race, but it’s hard not to jump to that uncomfortable conclusion. Trammell is white, Lou is black. But if you give the voters the benefit of the doubt on that, it’s difficult to come up with a good explanation for why one is in and the other remains out.
I listed their stats earlier, and they’re remarkably similar across the board. If anything, Whitaker’s are slightly better, and their individual awards are more or less the same. Even if one gives more weight to Trammel playing a more premium position, it’s hard to overlook the fact that Lou was one of the very best to ever man his spot. For example, he’s one of only three 2B (along with Rogers Hornsby and Joe Morgan) to ever record 1,000 R, 1,000 RBI, 2,000 H, and 200 HR. I mean, what more do you want from the guy?
Trammell initially fell short of election by the BWAA (Baseball Writers’ Association of America), but was inducted into the HOF with 81.2% of the Modern Baseball Committee vote in 2018. It’s an embarrassment that Lou fell off the ballot with only 2.9% of the BWAA vote in 2001, and that he only managed to score 37.5% of the necessary 75% to win election from the Modern Baseball Committee in 2020.
I’ve written about how pointless most of our arguments over the Hall of Fame are, but this one feels like a no-brainer. Even the WARheads, those devoted followers to the (in my opinion) flawed statistic of Wins Above Replacement, are on my side on this one. It’s extremely difficult to find any subject baseball fans unanimously agree on when it comes to the Hall of Fame, but Sweet Lou might be the closest we have to an exception.
Whitaker and Trammell could be the best keystone combo in baseball history. They’re certainly the best I’ve ever seen, and their careers are intertwined as closely as any two players who have ever suited up in the Show. Their bronze likenesses deserve to hang beside each other in the Plaque Gallery for posterity. So do the right thing, Cooperstown.
Pencil in Whitaker and Trammell together one more time.
Thanks again for reading Powder Blue Nostalgia. Share your Whitaker and Trammell memories in the comments below, and if you have another favorite keystone combo, let us know!
Always great stories Patrick! Learned some interesting facts about Lou & Alan, it is a shame Lou is not in HOF. Thanks as always.
Like you, I will always have a soft spot in my heart for these two. Two of my favorite non-Royals ever.