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.Before they built the enclosure, the wind blewstraight from left field to right field, but when they enclosed thecenter-field section, it turned the straight left-to-right action into awhirlwind.I d be standing in the outfield and watch a ball fouledoff toward the third-base side be carried all the way across theinfield and the first baseman would catch it. YANKEE for LIFE " 97They used to have to wire the batting cage down to keep thewind from blowing it away during BP.I m not kidding.Theystaked it to the ground.Pardon me, make that staked it to the artificial turf.Like everyballplayer from that era that I know, I hated playing on artificialturf.Especially that early stuff they had at Candlestick, whichfelt like a basketball court covered with a giant green nylon floormat.(I always liked what Dick Allen had to say about artificial turf: If a horse won t eat it, I don t want to play on it. )Kaye loved San Francisco.Just loved it.A beautiful place, andWplenty to do.The kids had a great time.We loved the restaurants, the look and feel of the place, and the sur-roundings.When our folks came to visit, we loved playing tour guide andtaking them to places like Alcatraz, Napa, Sausalito, Chinatown, and theGolden Gate Bridge.We didn t love not being Yankees, of course, and nobody could loveCandlestick Park.But we did love San Francisco.The kids had a little adjustment period.Tori was seven, Todd was six,and they were just old enough to miss their pals back in New Jersey andat Yankee Stadium.Sometimes, when you re adjusting to a new town, nothing breaks theice quicker than calling on new neighbors for directions to the nearestER.That happened when we first arrived in San Francisco and Todd felloff his bike and split open his chin.He and a few boys from the neighbor-hood came to our house, and several hours and a few stitches later, webecame friends with about three or four families.As a way of saying thank you, I herded up a small gang of boys andhauled them and our two kids to a ball game.Everybody bundled up incoats and mufflers and caps and gloves, and we all went out to the Stickand loaded up on hot soup and hot chocolate and.everybody was socold and miserable that we left in the seventh inning! 98 " BOBBY MURCERThat was the first and last time we could persuade the neighborhoodkids to go on a baseball outing.Occasionally I would take Todd and Tori to a game, and we d ask theushers to let us go sit out along the right-field line.The team sometimesdrew as few as 2,500 for a game, so the sections down the lines wereblocked off.That worked fine for us because we could sit close to thefoul line, and during a pitching change or before an inning started,Bobby could stroll over and talk to the kids, and we could discuss dinneror whatever.After a few times, though, the club put a stop to that.I think they feltlike it was embarrassing to have just us out there in this sea of emptyseats.One plus about my trade to San Francisco: I am pleased toreport that in 1975, my first year as a Giant, I got my home runstroke back.I walloped 11 taters.Guess that proves that Candle-stick was definitely a better power ballpark for me than Shea.Aleast 10 percent better.Life finally got back to normal in 1976, mysecond year in San Francisco 23 home runs.Almost from the minute I set foot in Candlestick, I was on myhands and knees asking Mr.Stoneham to trade me somewhere,anywhere.I knew I could not perform to my standards there, notin the cold.Looking back, I guess I should be thankful that Major LeagueBaseball didn t have a franchise in Alaska.Although I have to tellyou, some days in Candlestick, they might as well have.I actually considered quitting, although I had no idea what Iwould do.I was 29, a baseball player, in my prime years.Somedays more precisely, late afternoons before night games Kaywould practically have to shove me out the door to get me to goto the ballpark.Remember the other great Dick Allen line? I can play any-where.First base, third base, left field anywhere but Philadel-phia. That s the way I felt about Candlestick Park.Evidently, most Bay Area baseball fans felt the same way.Half YANKEE for LIFE " 99full was considered a great crowd.Many games, 5,000 peoplemight be there in the first inning, fewer than half that by theseventh.Over most of my two seasons as a Giant, Patty Hearst was onthe lam from the FBI.I always thought a good place for her togo would be the center-field stands at the Stick.Nobody ever wentthere.In fact, so few fans visited any part of Candlestick in the 1970sthat Mr.Stoneham was negotiating to move the ball club to To-ronto.He almost pulled it off in 1976.But at the very last minute,a local businessman named Bob Lurie stepped in and bought theclub in a midnight deal with a pledge to keep the Giants in SanFrancisco.If he hadn t stepped up to the plate, we d be talkingtoday about the Toronto Giants.My free agent year was coming up, so as soon as I could speakto Mr.Lurie, I told him he should try to work out a deal for me,because there was no way I was going to re-sign with the Giants.I liked and respected him, and I didn t want him to end up withnothing when I walked at the end of the 1977 season.He said hewas sorry I felt that way.He tried to talk me out of it.He askedme, If you were to change your mind, what would it take to comeback? I told him, How about $1 million? Goodbye, Candlestick.Hello, Wrigley Field.That fall, Mr.Lurie swapped me to the Chicago Cubs.Thedeal involved five players, but basically it was me for Bill Mad-lock.Two years earlier, I d been part of the first-ever swap of two$100,000 players.This time, I d been traded for the reigning NLbatting champion.Guess I should have felt honored by that.All Ireally felt was disappointment that I was still half a continent awayfrom home and still wearing a foreign uniform.At least one had pinstripes.But they were the wrong color.Once again, Kay and I liked our new summer place.Chica-go s a fascinating town, filled with great restaurants.We bought 100 " BOBBY MURCERa condo in Arlington Heights and settled in.The kids loved daybaseball.And never having to wear their parkas and earmuffs.For me, it was a kick to play in Wrigley Field.It s just a flat-outbeautiful ballpark, a polar opposite to that other place I d beenincarcerated in for the previous two seasons.As Ernie Banks said, Let s play two. Naturally, I d always heard about what a great place Wrigleywas for power hitters you know, the ball carries better in thewarm days, the dimensions favor the batter, and the wind alwaysblows out.Well, the first two things are true, but the third is moremyth than reality.Fact is, most of the time at Wrigley you get across wind, left-field corner to right field.But when the wind does blow out in the late summer, it s a greatplace to hit.That just doesn t happen often enough.Couple of things about playing the outfield at Wrigley:Whichever way the wind s blowing, it s pretty doggone toughon outfielders at all times, particularly right fielders and centerfielders.Definitely not as tough as at Candlestick no ballparkin the history of baseball has ever come close to that pit for badwind but some days Wrigley could be an adventure.And then there are the ivy-covered walls.They re drop-deadgorgeous to look at, so green and soft and inviting.But the firsttime I ran into one, I learned a hard truth: brick walls don t haveany give to them.My shoulder still hurts every time I think ofhitting that ivy-covered baby trying to turn a long drive into anout.As everybody knows, a ball that gets lodged in the ivy at Wrigleyis a ground-rule double
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