Las Vegas Sun

March 28, 2024

Columnist Ron Kantowski: Twirling a gem isn’t easy

Ron Kantowski is a Las Vegas Sun sports writer. Reach him at [email protected] or (702) 259-4088.

Counting Kevin Millwood's Sunday, there have been 230 no-hit games pitched in major league baseball's long and storied history. Only one was authored by a Las Vegas resident. And his name wasn't Greg Maddux.

It was on June 27, 1980, at Candlestick Park in San Francisco, that longtime Summerlin resident Jerry Reuss had one of those days that every kid who has toed the rubber for Ed's Conoco or Chico's Bail Bonds on the Little League diamond has dreamed about.

That was the day, as the headline guys were fond of writing, that Reuss "twirled a gem" against the Giants while pitching for the Dodgers.

As venerable Casey Stengel used to say, you could look it up. Although ol' Case predated the personal computer by about a generation, you can now find Reuss' name on the Internet alongside those of Cy Young, Christy Mathewson, Walter Johnson, Bob Feller, Warren Spahn, Sandy Koufax, Juan Marichal, Bob Gibson, Tom Seaver and Nolan Ryan, giving credence to the notion that there's art in pitching a no-hitter.

But in that the honor roll also includes Dick Bosman, Clyde Wright, George Culver, Ray Washburn, Bob Moose, Charlie Lea, Ed Halicki and Jose Jimenez (the ballplayer, not the Bill Dana character), one can surmise that the stars -- not to mention the second baseman and shortstop -- have to be properly aligned, too.

"There's a lot of luck," Reuss said. "You're always going to make bad pitches, but one night, maybe a guy will pop it up. And I've made a lot of good pitches that guys have hit (for home runs)."

Here's another fallacy about no-hitters. Every guy who pitches one doesn't remember it as if it happened yesterday,and doesn't always recall every detail with Windex clarity.

I remember having a beer with former Las Vegas Stars pitching coach Sonny Siebert one night, where I practically had to remind him that he had tossed a "no-no" against the Senators in 1966. He didn't even remember who he retired for the last out. "I think it was their second baseman," he said, scratching his head.

"Tim Cullen?" I asked.

"Yeah -- that was it. Tim Cullen," said Siebert, who seemed more impressed by my knowledge of the light-hitting, 1960s-era Senators than by what he had accomplished.

At least Reuss, who was speaking from Albuquerque with the Iowa Cubs -- he is in his third season as Iowa pitching coach -- remembers the last out of his no-hitter.

"Bill North ... on a ground ball right back to me," he said, but only after being pressed. "It was pretty routine."

Reuss, a lefty who won 198 games in 19 big-league seasons, said that pretty much characterized the game. Nobody made a diving catch or a backhanded stop to preserve his spot in the history books. He said every out the Giants made was routine, and they made 28 of them.

That was perhaps the most remarkable thing about Reuss' no-hitter, that had Bill Russell not made a throwing error, Reuss would have finished with a perfect game. He didn't walk a single batter.

"Leonard Koppet (the noted baseball writer) wrote something about it, saying you only need 27 outs (for a perfect game) and I got 28," Reuss said. "With me, it was 28 routine outs."

Reuss, who spent several seasons in the Las Vegas Stars' broadcast booth and has many interests outside of baseball, such as pop music (he has even co-authored a book on the subject), said the Dodgers rewarded him with a big-screen television and a bonus, which he spent on a party for his teammates.

"It was a nice event," he said, talking about the no-hitter with the kind of nonchalance a parent might use in describing an offspring's Holy Communion. "It's chronicled, people want to talk to you about it. There's a certain mystique, a place of honor, for guys who have thrown a no-hitter.

"But honestly, I don't really think about it that much anymore. Once in a while, a fan will ask me about it when I'm signing a baseball card, or when somebody throws a no-hitter against a certain team, you may see your name on a list, and a writer may ask you about it."

(Funny how that happens.)

Reuss said somebody was nice enough to send him a videotape of his no-hitter but that he has yet to watch it in its entirety.

"I did watch part of it," he said.

When he gets around to reliving the whole thing, it should make a perfect -- or at least a near-perfect -- way to spend an evening.

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