RIP to One Tough Dominican

[Coqui]

Early 80s Cardinal ace Joaquin Andujar passed today at the age of 62. He was the #1 starter on two World Series teams ('82 and '85), and was always good for a colorful quote. Parroting him, I have only one word to say about Joaquin Andujar: YouNeverKnow.

[roncollins]

What a bummer. He was quite good, and always interesting.

[Mike Dunn]

I found this nice reflection by a fan on another forum:

It's hard to imagine there being a guy like Andujar nowadays in the game. Heck, he out-Mannied Manny, he just did it before ESPN was so prevalent and in every home. He was a crazy, hilarious nutjob. He was a showboat and a hotdog. If he faced your team, you hated his guts, when he'd fake pull a pistol from an imaginary holster and "shoot" a hitter whom he'd struck out. Or, he'd mime dumping a pail of milk on his head. No, I don't know why, either.

He was angry a lot. He was loud. Abrasive. He must have been a pretty nutty teammate. Joaquin gave himself a nickname: One Tough Dominican. When he came to the Cardinals, grizzled 65 year old pitching coach Hub Kittle corrected a flaw in his delivery. A grateful Andujar never called Kittle anything but "Daddy" after that, with almost childlike reverence. Kittle called Andujar "Jack". When Ozzie Smith arrived with the Cardinals, he tried calling Joaquin "Jack" once. Andujar had to be restrained. Ozzie opted for "Senor Jack". Andujar never called Smith anything but "Midget." I think he meant it endearingly.

Andujar had to be restrained from starting a riot in not one but two game 7 World Series performances. He's the last Cardinal to ever win 20 games in back to back seasons. He hit home runs in his career from both sides of the plate, though he was a .127 career hitter. He had one grand slam, against Houston, in St. Louis. The Astros issued an intentional walk to load the bases and Andujar, on deck, pointed to the right field seats like he was Babe Ruth. Then he turned to the Cardinals dugout and told George Hendrick and Whitey Herzog he was going to hit a home run. On the first pitch he saw--batting lefthanded, because he switch hit, because, as noted, he was out of his mind--Andujar lined a grand slam over the wagon gate in right field. He always took hard swings, he said. "Youneverknow." (In an interview in 1981, he allowed that "Youneverknow" was his favorite English word.)

Andujar was simply a little kid out there. Every game, his last warm-up toss, he'd bouce the ball once, twice, three times off his open hand, then swing his arm around and snag the ball in mid-air and launch it home as hard as he possibly could. He seemed genuinely sad that his temper would get the best of him too often. He wept when the Cardinals traded him after he blew up on the mound in the 1985 World Series...but understood, he said. He was a proud, weird flake. He once announced after breaking a losing streak that "God was back in the National League and he's staying at my house. We're going to have a barbecue for him." When Padres manager passed over Andujar--who had 15 wins at the All Star break--for the 1985 midsummer classic, Andujar announced that he wasn't going to show up. He instead would "Have a barbecue. I'll cook anything. Quail. I'll do what I want." Barbecuing figured largely in his insane ouevre.

And he had a big heart. He did. He loved his team and his teammates and showing off for fans. In the 1982 World Series, Andujar was comfortably ahead in the 7th inning of game three when Ted Simmons hit a rocket one-hop liner that struck Andujar just below the knee, right at the top of the shin bone. Andujar went down like he'd been shot, screaming in pain. He had to be carried off the field, weeping in pain. You could see a giant golf ball knot growing out of his knee already as he was lifted off the mound. X-rays were inconclusive because of swelling. Andujar was slated to pitch game 7. Eventually he took a cortisone shot in the knee and had it braced and wrapped tightly. It may have been broken. No matter. Andujar took the mound for Game 7, grimacing in pain throughout....and won the game and clinched the World Series. One Tough Dominican.

He also, apparently was extravagant and generous to a fault with his money when it came to helping poor Dominican kids play baseball and go to school and have roofs over their heads at night. He gave away nearly all his money for young kids in the San Pedro De Marcoris area, and became something of a mythical figure there. There are kids all over minor league systems from San Pedro named "Andujar" and "Joaquin" who are no relation to, but named in reverence for, Senor Jack.

Everyone who played with or against him has a Joaquin Andujar story. This one may sum him up best:

"The definitive Joaquin Andujar story, though, is one reported by Whitey Herzog about a decade after the pitcher's departure from the Major Leagues. While working in the Angels' front office during the 1990s, the Rat called Joaquin at his home in San Pedro and hired him on as a scout. He instructed his former mound ace to travel up into the Dominican mountains and round up all the raw, young baseball talent, aged about 12 to 16, that he could find. Whitey then flew down for a tryout, where Andujar had assembled the kids on the diamond and proceeded to pitch to each of them one-by-one.

There was nary a foul tip. Andujar was not throwing batting practice, he was pumping his best fastballs past these kids, some of them not much taller or wider evidently than the bats they were swinging. Herzog said he realized immediately that Joaquin didn't quite understand his role in this process. He was auditioning. Driven as ever, he wanted to show his old manager that at almost 50 years old, he could still bring the gas."

Thanks for the memories, Jack.