R.I.P. Lenny (or is it Len?) Randle

December 30, 2024

I’m not going to lie about it: when I first came into possession of this card as a nine year-old kid in the spring of 1978, I thought Lenny Randle (more on that in a moment) was missing his right hand. I can’t see it in the picture above, and I can’t be the only one, either. It looks like a stump, and it creeps me out to this day. I freely admit that the rather, should we say, unorthodox tag being applied to his backside by a Padres first baseman completely escaped my notice at the time, too.

But there’s no way that a player with only one hand could hold a bat or field a position like third base with only one hand. Jim Abbott was later able to do it as a pitcher, but only in the American League where he didn’t also have to bat for himself. And the fact that Abbott lasted ten years in the majors, and even threw a no-hitter, is an amazing testament to what can be accomplished through determination.

When Lenny Randle (as Topps called him in 1972, when he first arrived in the majors) made a name for himself, it wasn’t in such an uplifting fashion. In late May of 1974, when he was playing for manager Billy Martin in Texas, he was the recipient of an unwelcome pitch behind his back late one night, courtesy of Cleveland pitcher Milt Wilcox. What happened next? Well, the video tells the story, but it’s not a happy one. Randle laid down a bunt on the first base side, and then clobbered Wilcox as he attempted to field the ball. A brawl broke out, which set the table for the infamous Ten Cent Beer Night Riot in Cleveland a few nights later.

I had not grasped the full extent of the mayhem that night, nor the carryover from the incident involving Randle and Wilcox a few nights before, until I watched this video. And I can’t imagine these things happening at a major league game, either. How the times have changed since then.

Len Randle (as Topps called him from 1975 through 1980, including the 1978 card above) also made news for attacking his manager (literally, it caused broken bones and sent him to the hospital) and for blowing a ground ball foul later in his career (in 1981, after Topps had reverted to calling him “Lenny” once again). He played in over 1100 ballgames during his 12 years in the majors, and passed away yesterday at the age of 75. Welcome to the Jimmy Buffett Society, Len (or Lenny, as the case may be).

I’ll hopefully have the time to do a year-end wrap up in the waning few hours of 2024. Until then….