In which Hall of Fame manager Casey Stengel ad-libs a late-in-life career change. As good as it has been, we can always imagine a way it could be better.
The Stengel line quoted above appears in every book on the great manager and the crazy-as-a-fox things he said, every baseball quotation book as well. It came well into his retirement, somewhere circa 1973. Casey was asked if he ever thought about managing again. His full answer: "Well, I'll tell you, young fella, to be truthful and honest and frank about it, I'm 83 years old, which ain't bad. To be truthful and honest about it, the thing I'd like to be right now is an astronaut."
Maybe that seems like a non-sequitur, and given Stengel's absurdist sense of humor, it probably was meant to be. Still, this remains one of my favorite change-of-pace quotations, along with a line spoken by Mel Blanc as Daffy Duck in the 1951 Warner Bros. cartoon "Drip-Along Daffy." Facing bad guy Nasty Canasta, Sheriff Daffy says, "Hankering for trouble, ay? Well, I would like..." He thinks it over for a second. "I would like?" he asks himself. "I would like a trip to Europe."
Any time I'm asked what I would like, regardless of the situation, my temptation is to respond either as Stengel or the duck. Any time someone else says, "I would like" and pauses to breathe, I mentally fill in one of the two responses. I don't know about them, but given the kinds of things I am usually asked to choose to "like" taking the game-theory route and opting for Door No. 3 always seems like the best bet. I mean, I live in the suburbs. If someone asks if you would like to meet for dinner at Applebee's or Olive Garden, a dangerous trip to outer space truly is your best option. Alternatively, you could just hang on "I could like?" like Daffy does, but for all eternity.
Charles Dillon Stengel in action with the New York Giants, for whom he hit .349/.413/.524 as an oft-injured platoon center fielder. (Getty Images).
When Casey said he would prefer to be an astronaut he had been in the Hall of Fame for seven years. Speaking of his playing career in his induction speech, he said, "I chased the balls that Babe Ruth hit." He wasn't a Ruth himself, although he was a good enough hitter that like production (120 career OPS+) today would be worth millions. That wasn't the important part; it was simply a privilege to be on the field at that time and place. It is one of the most joyous expressions of playing in baseball's hard-bitten early days (Casey was in the majors from 1912 through 1925) as you can find.
He had also won 10 pennants, tying his mentor John McGraw for the most ever, won seven World Series, which also ties for the most ever, and set a record with five consecutive championships. He also helped launch the New York Mets. Along the way, he became an international celebrity. Independently wealthy due to investments outside of baseball (the man owned oil rigs and a bank, among other things) what he accomplished as a manager he did not because he needed to financially, but because he had something to prove to himself and the world -- and he did it.
In 1970, he published an op-ed in the New York Times, and at the bottom of the page, where the Times lists the author's credentials, it said, simply, "Casey Stengel is the philosopher of baseball."
Not even Yogi Berra got to be the Philosopher of Swat. That's an exalted position to be in. Casey knew it, and insofar as I can tell from having talking to people who knew him, he enjoyed the heck out of being Casey Stengel. And yet, that's the funny/terrible thing about those people (and cartoon animals) who have the depth to live an examined life: You can always think of someplace else or someone else you'd rather be. At 83, Casey wanted to be Buzz Aldrin, probably with the rejuvenation that implies. You would have to ask Aldrin who he wanted to be back then, at 43.
Maybe it was Casey Stengel.