Chet Lemon recalls his big league career: former center fielder's 16-year tour in the majors with the Chicago White Sox and Detroit Tigers produced a record-setting defensive mark, productive seasons with the bat and a World Series title in 1984

Baseball Digest, Jan-Feb, 2005 by Brett Ballantini

A LESSON IN WHAT NOT TO DO pushed one of the game's 'most aggressive defensive players into the wide expanses of center field.

It was September 9, 1975 when Chet Lemon, a mere babe of 20, played his first major league game--at third base. He was in awe of Comiskey Park, the stadium looming over him, as he took his position for the Chicago White Sox. Growing up in Los Angeles, he'd been to Dodger Stadium countless times to see heroes like Willie Mays blow into town, but to be on a major league field ... there was nothing like it.

Lemon was so excited, in fact, that he cut over on one grounder to shortstop, snagged the ball in front of young star Bucky Dent, and practically collided with White Sox second baseman Jorge Orta, merely minding his own business on the right side of the infield.

It didn't take a genius to see that you couldn't squeeze "Juice" into the infield.

"After that game, (White Sox manager) Chuck Tanner smiled and put his arm around me," Lemon says with a chuckle. "We walked back up the dugout steps, and he pointed out to center field." Comiskey Park was particularly cavernous in the late 1970s, stretching 445 feet straightaway to the fence. "See there, Chet? You can have all the room in the world to run. There's no one to get in your way out there."

After a career manning the hot corner, Lemon needed more room to roam, so a center fielder was born. And what a fielder he was.

Not two seasons later, in 1977, Lemon had put his happy feet to good use by collaring an American League record 524 outfield chances and 512 putouts. (The putouts mark broke Dom DiMaggio's record of 503 set 29 years earlier, and both records still stand as A.L. bests.) By the finish of his career, in fact, Lemon recorded five seasons of 400-plus putouts--including three straight as a Detroit Tiger (1983-85)--and no A.L player has more.

Lemon was a fearless, aggressive player, marked by his patented and curious headfirst slides into first base. But in the field, it wasn't mere speed or aggressiveness that fueled Lemon's success, but careful study.

"I took time to learn the different ballparks and hitters," Lemon says. "I deciphered the catcher's signals--nobody gave them to me, I just picked them up on my own. That way, I was always moving, based on the pitch that was called and the hitter's tendencies." The 1975 Chicago club that Lemon joined in September was a fifth-place finisher in the A.L. West; Lemon's first full campaign, 1976, was even more dismal, as the team finished in last place at 64-97. It was quite a shock then, when the 1977 White Sox developed into the storied South Side Hit Men, commanding first place into August before faltering in the face of the red-hot Kansas City Royals.

"We never thought what we were doing was strange or unexpected," Lemon says of his first experience on a contender. "It was just a matter of a group of guys coming together with the same oneness of mind. We weren't concerned with the individual, but with the team."

While 1977 may have been Lemon's coming-out party on defense, his bat SOOU provided sparks as well. He had his strongest offensive season in '79, when he finished ninth in the A.L. in batting average (.318) and on-base percentage (.391), and led the league in doubles with 44. Playing alongside veterans such as outfield mates Ralph Garr and Richie Zisk, Lemon made a quick study of the ins and outs of the majors.

Lemon learned well, in spite of the challenge of entering the big leagues so young. At the dewy age of 23 in 1978, Lemon played in his first All-Star game. And none other than teammate (and onetime phenom himself) Bobby Bonds heaped on the praise.

"It was always my goal to be a franchise player, but Bobby was the first guy who really started talking me up as one of the best center fielders in baseball," Lemon says. "He said I was as good as anyone he'd seen, and for a man who played with one of my heroes, Willie Mays, that's high praise."

By 1981, the most popular player in Chicago agreed to terms that would make him the team's highest-paid member, as Jerry Reinsdorf's ownership group purchased the White Sox from the cash-strapped Bill Veeck. But disaster struck, in a sense, when surprise free agent Carlton Fisk joined the White Sox in a much-ballyhooed signing--for more money than Lemon.

Lemon admits today that it was immaturity that soured him when he lost his top billing. "As a young kid, I didn't see it as an opportunity, that Carlton Fisk would help us get more wins," Lemon says of his 25-year-old self. "I saw it as an insult. I was still maturing. I said, I'll show them. I'll go be a free agent. But I was scared. Chicago was all I knew. It was my home. And I loved the fans, who were always so supportive and encouraging."

Lemon's disappointment over Fisk joining the White Sox was the writing on the wall. He pouted through the 1981 strike season and was dealt that Thanksgiving to the Tigers for Steve Kemp.

Kemp would play for the White Sox in only a solitary season, while the train that ran eastward held a more valuable bounty for Detroit. The trade, initially unpopular in the Motor City, turned out to be the greatest move for Lemon.