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Leo the Lip was willing, however, to talk about his team at length. The Giants lead the league, said he, because they have "strength through the middle." There is Westrum, a solid, dependable catcher; a stable of pitchers with "just enough age" (Maglie, Hearn and Grissom) and "just enough youth" (Antonelli, Gomez and Liddle); a steady, seasoned shortstop (Alvin Dark) teamed up with scrappy Davey Williams at second. And in centerfield—Durocher paused to savor the name—amazing Willie Mays. "Look at the kid," says Leo. "He come to win."
With his youth and his talent, a long and greater career may lie ahead of Willie Mays—perhaps even the fulfillment of some of the rashest claims already made for him. Opposing National Leaguers can be found who call him the best around in the field; the doubts about his fitness for lasting remembrance focus on his batting. "In the field I don't think you can beat him," says Veteran Pitcher Warren Spahn (now of the Milwaukee Braves). "At bat, he may not be as good as he looks. He makes mistakes and goes for bad pitches."
But while the fame and plaudits last, the bouncing boy from Fairfield is wisely and modestly cashing in on them. The Giants pay him perhaps $17,500 a year, making Willie Mays one of the biggest major-league bargains since Cincinnati drafted Christy Mathewson for $100 after the 1900 season. To swell that comparative pittance (the Boston Red Sox' Ted Williams gets a reported $100,000; Brooklyn's Robinson $40,000). Mays, through his agent, now endorses Chesterfields (he seldom smokes). Coca-Cola (he drinks it by the case), Red Man chewing tobacco (he chews nothing but gum) and Rollfast bikes (he drives a chartreuse Lincoln convertible). TV producers compete for him and are glad to pay $500 for each selfconscious, carefully coached Mays appearance on a TV panel or quiz show. Journalists bedevil him for the rudiments of a biography or a morning's column. "It's got so Willie can't get into a shower without some reporter or photographer trying to get in with him," complained a fellow Giant.
It makes Willie Mays just a little nervous and uncomfortable. But it has not wiped the gaping smile off his face, weakened his throwing arm, impaired his batting eye or deterred him from the one thing that is Willie May's version of the pursuit of happiness—the winning of ball games.
* Negroes are now on the rosters of seven of the National League clubs (all but Philadelphia), as follows: Brooklyn, five; Chicago, two; Cincinnati, two; Milwaukee, four; New York, four; Pittsburgh, one; St. Louis, one. Only three of the American League clubs have Negro players: Cleveland, four; Philadelphia Athletics and Chicago White Sox, one each.