So this is what it's like to win!

Sporting News, The, Oct 2, 1995 by Sheldon Ocker

Jerry Willard was a second-string catcher with a penchant for gullibility. A 100-foot sculpture made of brass tubing hangs from the ceiling of the Hyatt Regency Hotel in Milwaukee. Willard's teammates said it was the cable-TV antenna. He believed them.

If the '80s saw the beginnings of political correctness in the mass media, the news was slow reaching the Indians clubhouse. Third baseman Toby Harrah delighted in throwing French fries at New York Times writer Jane Gross, and Mel Hall bragged about being ghetto-poor. As the team bus drove through a depressed section of Milwaukee, Hall pointed to a string of dilapidated houses and said. "That's like our old place, except these have glass in the windows." And Ron Pruitt didn't exactly honor America when he stood in the dugout for the national anthem wearing a Conehead hat.

Harrah was not always the dutiful team player, either. Before a game in 1983, Manager Mike Ferraro asked Harrah why he wasn't on the field for batting practice. Harrah said he'd be there when it was his turn to hit.

Ferraro pressed him: "You're supposed to be out there now."

Harrah shot back "Hey, don't worry about it, Skip, I'm not missing anything. I'll get there when I get there."

Ferraro fined Harrah $250 on the spot. Harrah returned to his locker, wrote out a check and confronted the manager in his office.

"Here you go, Skip," Harrah said, starting to hand over the check. Suddenly, Harrah his hand back, ripped the cheek into tiny pieces and threw them on the floor.

Ferraro lasted only 100 games. One of his few triumphs came in the first week of the season, when reserve first baseman Broderick Perkins complained about sitting on the bench three games into the schedule.

For each game Perkins didn't play, he drew a fine on a paper plate and pasted it on his locker. When Ferraro heard about it he said, "I think Broderick needs a bigger plate, like one they use for a large pizza."

Corrales replaced Ferraro and the Indians started to win. The players griped about Corrales' inflexible rules and combative personality, but his relentless style worked until 1987, when the pitching staff compiled a 5.28 earned-run average, worst in franchise history.

One day in Oakland, Corrales thought Dave Stewart was throwing at his players. He rushed to the mound and executed an awkward karate kick, missing Stewart and leaving himself wide open for a roundhouse left. Corrales hit the dirt.

When players didn't meet his standards, Corrales let them know. After an embarrassing game in Baltimore, reporters entered the clubhouse and saw roast beef, salad and mashed potatoes littering the floor. Corrales had upended the spread.

When the baserunning went sour in Boston, Corrales remarked, "We just kept running until somebody tagged us out."

Win or lose, the players had a good time in the '80s. Well, not all of them. Juan Eichelberger once griped to Mike Seghi, the traveling secretary, that a draft from a window was blowing on his pitching arm. Trouble is, Eichelberger was on a jet plane at the time.