By Robert Falkoff / MLB.com
As the long-time Cardinals broadcaster, Harry Caray used to entertain his radio audience by excitedly shouting the words "line drive" after contact to describe a well-struck St. Louis hit.
But there was one special day -- May 13, 1958 -- when Caray never even got to the second word. A pitch delivered by Cubs right-hander Moe Drabowsky met Stan Musial's bat and the baseball whistled toward the left-field corner at Wrigley Field for what would be the 3,000th hit of Musial's illustrious career.
An emotional Caray got out the word "line" but not the word "drive." The magnitude of this moment dictated that Caray get right to the celebratory point:
"Two balls, two strikes. Stan waits. Now the stretch, from the belt, here's the pitch. Line ... there it is! Into left field! Hit No. 3,000. A run has scored. Musial around first, on his way to second with a double. Holy Cow, he came through!"
Fifty years ago, Musial created the goose bumps among not only the vast legion of Cardinals followers, but baseball fans everywhere.
Fifty years ago, Musial became the only member of the 3,000-hit club to have reached the milestone as a pinch-hitter.
Fifty years ago, Musial struck a blow for the integrity of the sport. He was supposed to sit out that May 13 game in Chicago with 2,999 hits in his back pocket. The Cardinals were headed home and the original plan was for Musial to get a day's rest and shoot for No. 3,000 before the home folks in the original Busch Stadium, formerly known as Sportsman's Park. But there was a game to be won in Chicago that day, as the Cardinals got something going after trailing, 3-1, entering the sixth.
With a runner in scoring position and one out, manager Fred Hutchinson called for Musial to pinch-hit and the perennial All-Star, who had come to be known as "Stan the Man," wouldn't have had it any other way. Sure, it would have been nice to get No. 3,000 at home. But winning a ballgame was always the priority for Musial in his 22-year Cardinals tenure.
Once a team player, always a team player.
Musial's opposite-field double brought the Cards within a run and there was an impromptu 3,000-hit salute at Wrigley Field before the game would resume. For those glued to their radios back in St. Louis, Caray set the scene with his rapid-fire, crisp description of the historic aftermath.
"Listen to the crowd! Time is called. [Umpire] Frank Dascoli goes over to second base and gives him [Musial] the ball. He throws it into the Cardinal dugout. Terry Moore has it. Here are the photographers out on the field."
It's the golden anniversary of a truly golden baseball memory.
The Cardinals used Musial's RBI double as the impetus for a four-run rally in the sixth and a 5-3 victory. Hit No. 3,000 was, first and foremost, about winning and symbolized what Musial's Hall of Fame career stood for, until he retired following the 1963 season with 3,630 hits.
On so many levels, Musial's 3,000th hit did, and still does, resonate with so many.
Now 87, Musial remains a beloved icon in St. Louis. He no longer does interviews, but remains involved with ventures like Stan The Man, Inc., which provides authorized Musial signatures on sports collectibles. If there's a big event like the 2006 grand opening of Busch Stadium, the clincher of the '06 World Series (Musial threw out the first ball before Game 5) or Opening Day of 2008, the guy widely considered to be the greatest Cardinal of them all is there.
Twenty-four All-Star Games. Three Most Valuable Player awards. Seven batting titles. Musial has three World Series rings, a .331 lifetime batting average and 475 homers. Just for good measure, he once came back and hit a ball over the right-field fence in a Cardinals' Old-Timers Game.
Amidst all the records and accomplishments, No. 3,000 sticks out as a testament to one of the game's purest hitters. The distinctive crouch. The wiggle. The unfurling of the bat and the solid contact. It's all part of the Musial lure.
Always long on modesty, Musial was treated to a whirlwind blur of accolades after No. 3,000 landed safely at Wrigley Field on May 13, 1958.
"I never knew that batting a little ball around could cause so much commotion," Musial said during his Wrigley Field postgame press conference. "I now know how [Charles] Lindbergh must have felt when he returned from St. Louis."
Musial didn't fly the Spirit of St. Louis like the famous aviator Lindbergh. But, in many ways, Musial was the spirit of St. Louis.
Musial's long-time secretary Pat Anthony recalls that Stan The Man left Chicago on a train and stopped at all the little stations en route back to St. Louis so he could acknowledge the fans following No. 3,000.
"When they got to St. Louis, Stan said there will be no school tomorrow," Anthony said.
Musial was presented with a "3,000" state license plate. In Cardinals country and far beyond, this Musial milestone was a reason for people to exalt.
Dodgers manager Joe Torre was an impressionable 17-year-old in love with the game of baseball on the day that Musial collected No. 3,000. Though his native New York was filled with baseball stars, Torre knew all about the aura of Musial in the Midwest, too.
When reminded recently that the 50th anniversary of Musial's 3,000th hit was approaching, Torre could only smile and remember.
"Double to left," Torre said.
In the 1940s, the 1950s and the early 1960s, Musial captivated both young and old with his unorthodox stance and fluid swing.
"I was a big baseball fan," Torre said. "I was aware of more than just the New York scene at that time. Especially how well Stan hit in New York. He was a big attraction when he came in to play the Giants and Dodgers."
One of the great perks of playing and later managing in St. Louis, Torre said, was having the opportunity to be around Musial.
"Stan is one of the most charming and unassuming guys you'd ever want to know," Torre said. "Just a great man."
Over a span of nearly three decades, Musial was the only player to reach 3,000 hits. When Musial got No. 3,000, it had been 16 years since Paul Waner accomplished the feat in 1942. Following Musial, another 12 years would pass before Hank Aaron and Willie Mays both recorded No. 3,000 in 1970.
A happy-go-lucky guy for going on nine decades, Musial once succinctly explained why he has such a pleasant demeanor.
"If you had a .331 lifetime average, you'd be happy all the time, too," Musial said.
Can it really have been 50 years since Musial reached No. 3000?
Time indeed flies when you're having fun. Stan "The Man" Musial is living proof of that.
