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Whenever he made one of his circus catches in right field, bashful Mel doffed his cap to the cheering bleacherites, was always rebuked by the veteran Giants: "If you'd been standing in the right place, you wouldn't have had to run so hard." In the locker room he got two nicknames, "Bright Eyes" and "Little Springtime." Furiously denying that he ever received "mash notes from girls," he learned to snap wet towels back at his tormentors. The sport writers dubbed him "Master Melvin."
Stunts & Speed. He had no flashy crowd-catching tricks. Terry once tried to sell him on the stunt idea. "But what shall I do?" asked Ott. "Anything," said Terry, "do anything. Get drunk . . . disappear ... lie down and roll over when you catch a ball . . . slide home when you hit one out of the park." Replied Ott: "Aw, gee, Bill. I couldn't do that. I'd look silly."
Lacking one important asset of a top-grade outfielder—speed—Ott made up for this deficit by learning to get the jump on a fly ball the split-second it leaves the bat. He is the master of three outfielding arts: 1) on a long fly ball over his head, he takes one look, turns his back and digs for the spot where the ball will drop; 2) he has patiently acquired the knack of picking caroms off the tricky right-field wall at the Polo Grounds; 3) his buggy-whip arm has enabled him to set a league record for starting double plays from the outfield (twelve in one season).
Legs & Lefties. The only player who holds an edge over the little Giant as a right fielder is the mighty George Herman ("Babe") Ruth, whose big bat always obscured his prowess afield. But at bat and in the field, 173-lb. Mel gives the 215-lb. Bambino a good run for it.
Ott squares away to a pitch as though he were going to beat a rug. Crowding the plate with feet apart, he rears up his front leg (not unlike a dog leaning into a hydrant), pulls back his bat, then steps forward and swings. Whenever he faces a high-kicking pitcher, the game looks as leggy as ballet.
Southpaw Slugger Ott says he never stopped to figure out what makes him a great hitter. He thinks maybe it's timing or coordination. There is no mystery about the times when Ott strikes out, pops up or dribbles to an infielder; generally it means that the pitcher has outguessed him, and sneaked in a fast ball when Mel was set for a curve or vice versa.
Dollars & Oysters. Gradually, Ott got used to the idea of being the No. 1 Giant.
His paychecks grew to the point where he needed investment advice (his 20 years in baseball have earned him nearly $300,000), and he found that he had time and money for other things. He married Mildred Wattigny, a New Orleans girl.
They have two daughters, a four-room Greenwich Village apartment and a home in Metairie, outside New Orleans.
During the season Mel spends many of his evenings talking shop — often at Toots Shor's, 51st Street restaurant in Manhattan. He is a movie, crossword puzzle and gin rummy addict, and hankers for the better eating places that specialize in bouillabaisse and oyster Rockefeller. He has also been known to fritter away a few dollars, between seasons, on the ponies.