Tuesday, February 19, 2019

What's In a Name?

Throughout the years, I've been bestowed with many a nickname that failed to stick.  For a while, I was referred to as "Road Rage" as I was aggressively difficult to pass up during a track or cross country meet.  That tag lasted for maybe a year of high school though before people forgot.  Then, I became "T-Burby" thanks to a quickly cobbled together Halloween costume that slightly resembled a pimp.  Then, for a short time at work, I was christened "BLT" for reasons that are entirely too convoluted and silly to get into here... and, no, it had nothing to do with sandwiches.

Eventually, "Burbs" - a shortened version of my last name - took hold and has stuck with me for about a decade now.  As such, I even use it in my Blogger profile, much like a certain baseball card I recently acquired.  In 1974, TCMA released a set of baseball cards with a unifying theme.  Like most of their products, this set was black & white, lacked frills, and featured nostalgic players of the previous generation.  Of course, what made this set unique was the fact that the checklist was fille exclusively with the most colorfully nicknamed ballplayers of the 1930's & 1940's.  

Now, we aren't talking about boring monikers like "A-Rod" or "D-Lee" - those lack character and are way overdone.  We're talking about, back in the day, when nicknames were colorful and truly painted a picture, like Sad Sam, Mule, Dizzy, Hot Potato, Heave-O, and Rapid Robert, among the 27 total included in the product.  Although players today are rarely graced with such interesting aliases, this is an idea that might make a nice subset or insert in Flagship... *cough, Topps, cough*

For Christmas (yes, I'm still working on quite a backlog of acquisitions thanks to the blogging blah's), my father generously me with a stash of oddball baseball cards which filled some long empty gaps in my Cubs All-Time Roster Collection.  One of those oddities just so happened to be a single from this set of sobriquets:




Forrest Pressnell was a knuckleball hurler who plied his trade for the Brooklyn Dodgers and the Chicago Cubs for five seasons in the Major Leagues.  Operating as a swing-man for both clubs from 1938 through 1942, "Tot's" minor league career was much longer, as he was forced to bide his time for eight years in the bushes before finally getting a shot in the limelight.  He was 31 years of age when he first debuted for "Dem Bums" - far from being a "tot" in the world of professional athletics.  However, his nickname was not an ironic moniker like one might infer; Pressnell was deemed "Tot" by the local of his hometown of Findlay, OH because the "tot" would always pal around town with his older brothers.

Of course, there was more to Pressnell than his nickname.

After that tot grew up, he would journey through the minor leagues, making stops in the Browns', Tigers', and Indians' chains before finally inking his first Major League contract with the Dodgers in 1938.  Most of his time as a prospect was spent on the roster of the American Association's Milwaukee Brewers, 1933-38, a team which would (coincidentally) later become a Cubs affiliate.  More interestingly, I would be remiss if I didn't mention the fact that Tot's time with the other St. Louis franchise came with the provokingly named Longview Cannibals

Now THAT is a colorful nickname!







Pressnell proved himself a useful asset for the Dodgers - he posted a 26-26 record with a 3.76 ERA in 417 innings spent bouncing back and forth between the starting rotation and the bullpen.  Essentially, he was the Mike Montgomery of his day -  an extremely valuable, yet criminally under-appreciated member of the pitching staff.

On that note, "Tot's" time spent in the borough is overshadowed by went on around him at the time.  For instance, during his rookie season, Tot pitched four innings in relief opposite of Cincinatti's Johnny Vander Meer... who just so happened to be in the process of twirling his yet-unmatched second consecutive no-hitter.  Pressnell wasn't around for that historic conclusion though, as he left the mound on a stretcher after a liner off the bat of future Cub, Ival Goodman, took out his knee.  For the record, despite this scary scene, Tot did not even miss his next start. 




 The super-vintage custom that reps Ival in my CATRC



Additionally, Pressnell was around for the circus surrounding Babe Ruth's tenure as a coach with the Dodgers in 1938.  At the end of the doomed experiment, the Babe presented some of his equipment to his favorite teammates as a thank you.  As part of this show, Ruth's fielding mitt went to "Tot," who kept the glove as one of his most treasured possessions for the duration of his life and gleefully jumped on any opportunity to show it off to fans.  I mean, wouldn't you?

In the midst of a youthful rebuild in Brooklyn, Pressnell was sold to the Cardinals in November of 1940.  Suddenly, a game of hot potato ensued, as the Cards then sent him to the Reds before a month had passed.  The Reds, in turn, swapped him to the Cubs for an undisclosed amount of money.  From November to February, the poor man had literally no idea where he would be come spring time.  Thankfully, the merry-go-round finally halted in Chicago.




"Tot's" promotional headshot from either 1941 or '42.



As a Cub, Pressnell pitched well during his first season in the Windy City, 1941, with a 5-3 record and a 3.09 earned run average in 29 games - 28 of those appearances coming out of the bullpen. In fact, John Thorn and Pete Palmer, editors of Total Baseball, later came to the conclusion that Tot was the most effective reliever in the National League that year.  However, that performance was wasted on a club that finished in sixth place.  Then the wheels fell off in 1942 and his ERA ballooned into the fives, leading to his permanent benching by September.  After being told he'd be sent to the PCL for 1943, Tot chose to retire rather than return to the bushes again.

After his professional career came to a close, Pressnell returned to his native Findlay with his wife, raised his family, and worked for what would become Marathon Oil.  He still loved the game though, as he occasionally dusted off his knuckler for a semi-pro game here and there.  "Tot" Pressnell passed away in 2001, at the age of 94.  At the time, he was one of the ten oldest former major league players.

And that is the story of  Forrest "Tot" Pressnell - an underrated, knuckleball pioneer for Dem Bums and the Lovable Losers who had a knack for showing up in the periphery of history and who's nickname had nothing to do with potatoes.






It sure would be nice if Topps were to explore this topic for a future insert set, even if there aren't nearly as many endearing nicknames as there were in the early days of baseball.  I guess they were pretty close with their commemorative Player's Weekend Now sets of the past two seasons, but those print-to-demand specials are certainly out of this penny-pincher's price range.  

What do you think about this idea?  Would it make a good theme for a set today?  Was it silly even back then?  What cool or unfortunate nicknames have you been saddled with over the years?  Feel free to share in the comments section below!

In the meantime, it's time for "Burbs" to log off.  Welcome to the CATRC, "Tot!"






3 comments:

  1. I've only had a couple of nicknames in my lifetime. My baseball coach called me Speed Demon, because I was short and chubby... yet was surprisingly quick. That nickname died with my little league career. My college buddies called me "Pookie" because it rhymes with Fuji... and they thought it was funny that the crack addict in New Jack City was named Pookie. But the one that's stood the test of time is Fuji... which happens to be a shortened version of my last name as well.

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  2. Baseball needs to come up with better nicknames before Topps could do an all-nickname insert set. It'd be all "Mad-Bums" and "KBs." The last really good nickname I can remember belonged to "Country Breakfast" Billy Butler.

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