Broglio, with no special help from Keane, found himself quickly, but the rugged Jackson was another matter. He had been plagued by an inability to finish games, and the problem had become more mental than physical. Keane went to him, and I told him he was going to start and he was going to finish. If he got in trouble out there, that was too bad; he was going to finish the game anyway. “Well, we go out to San Francisco and I start him for the first time. He's getting bombed. His timing was off, and pretty soon they've got five runs off him, all earned.” I said, "He's staying in. We've got to get him over this hump.' He allowed two more runs, and at the end of the eighth inning he was walking to the dugout with Carl Sawatski, our catcher, and I overheard Jackson say, 'Now in the ninth, Carl, I want to stay with my fast ball. It's my best pitch today.' Here he's allowed seven runs and he's figuring on finishing the ball game! We scored two runs to go ahead 9-7, and Jackson went out there in the ninth and he breezed. That was the day Larry Jackson came back. Who did it? Larry Jackson did it." In his first dozen starts after Keane took over, Jackson finished eight games and won eight.
When Johnny Keane assumed the reins in the middle of 1961, he was not expected to be a tough disciplinarian. But Keane displayed his toughness very quickly and established his authority.
First he banned poker. "I know it seems like a petty thing," he explained, "but it had gotten out of hand. As a coach, I had seen those games on the plane. There was never any silver on the table—just bills, piles of them. They'd raise on every card. There were a lot of young players in the game, and I knew they couldn't get off that plane after losing $200 and still keep up their morale. There was a lot of bitterness, and I just figured they should be bitter at the other ball clubs, not at each other. I felt like an old mother hen, but I knew what I was doing was right, so I told 'em no more poker. There was a little grumbling, mostly by a few players who were getting rich off the game, but they came around."
Next was the problem of veteran Mickey McDermott. It had often been written that Solly Hemus had gone too far toward being one of the boys. Keane felt he had to be a bit tougher when he stepped in. Most of the players knew they were not about to test Keane even though he was generally known as a docile man. The exception was Mickey McDermott, a veteran southpaw pitcher who had had some success with half a dozen teams in the American League. A garrulous 33-year-old, Mickey was a nightclub crooner in the off-season and one season had hit .301 for the Boston Red Sox. Such credentials enabled him to walk around saying, "I can pitch, hit and sing."
After a few days as manager, Keane called the team together for a team meeting. The players had no idea what was up. What took place was a painful scene that none had anticipated.
Pointing to McDermott, Keans said, "We checked your room four nights in a row after 2 a.m. curfew and you weren't there." They had also checked his room during the day and he wasn't there. No one had any idea where he stayed. To Solly Humus’s credit he had slapped a $500 fine on his wandering pitcher for missing curfew during his final week of managing the team. Keane continued, "We gave you cab fare and we gave you a job. You came to spring training and you were broke. I will not have guys like you tear down the tradition of an organization."
No one said a word. You could hear a pin drop. In a hoarse voice, McDermott finally spoke up. "John if you feel that way, maybe I oughta take my uniform off."
"That's exactly what you'll do. Here's your pink slip," answered Keane, and he pulled the paper out of his pocket. Most players almost to a man are released quietly, normally in the manager's office. But Keane wanted this made public. He was making a statement.
Johnny Keane's decisive action had made an impact on the team. The general reaction was that he'd been fair and just.
Later Keane explained his apparently peremptory action: "I made it plain when I talked to the players in my first clubhouse meeting in Los Angeles that I would enforce the rules, and I used the threat of public disclosure to help discourage any violations. We've got a young team—a bunch of fine, clean-cut kids—and I'll not have them either exposed unfairly to temptation or get the idea early that rules are meant to be flouted. Mickey has had a lot of chances in his career, and the Cardinals gave him one this year. I'm sorry he didn't take it."
Both Devine and Keane set about building a confident, contending team. They continued the development of key young players who would be 1964 stars: Bob Gibson, Ray Sadecki, Curt Flood, Bill White, Tim McCarver, and Julian Javier. Devine signed Curt Simmons as a free agent and later added Dick Groat and Roger Craig via trades. These veterans were essential to the 1964 team.
Perhaps the most important issue facing the organization was how to effectively use future Hall of Famer Stan Musial. Starting in 1961, the Cardinals carefully monitored the 40-year-old Musial’s playing time throughout the notoriously hot, muggy, and draining St. Louis summers, making sure he remained fresh. Musial responded by remaining a positive contributor to the team throughout his final three years (1961-1963) as a player.
The Cardinals were anxious for the 1962 season under Johnny Keane's leadership after two and a half years of mis-management and racial tension.
Stan Musial, Ken Boyer & Bill White were selected to the NL All-Star team.
First baseman Bill White and third baseman Ken Boyer won Gold Gloves this year.
