Remembering Bill Monbouquette

Bill Monbouqette didn't have the longest playing career, but he made his time count.

Bill Monbouqette didn’t have the longest playing career, but he made his time count.

His passing was overshadowed by the loss of Ernie Banks only a few days earlier, so it’s somewhat understandable that news of  Bill Monbouquette’s death after a seven-year battle with leukemia was lost in the shuffle. But it was well noted here in Cooperstown, where Monbouquette had developed something of a cult following as a minor league coach. I suspect the lack of attention would have mattered little to the 78-year-old Monbouquette, who was more interested in getting things done than getting credit for them.

Some headline writers called him “Mombo,” while others chose the more fitting nickname of “Monbo,” but few people had difficulty understanding Monbouquette’s true identity. Always direct and outgoing, even with people he had just met, he made a lasting impression on just about everyone he encountered, first as a player and then as a pitching coach. He was emotional, funny, and passionate, often displaying all three of the characteristics in the same conversation.

Monbouquette’s professional career began in 1955, when he was signed out of Medford High School by the hometown Red Sox. Even his signing was memorable. After he officially signed his contract, the Red Sox gave him tickets to sit in the right field stands with his parents. Two drunken fans bothered the Monbouquettes with foul language. The experience culminated with beer spilled on Monbo’s mother.

“I turned and said I don’t appreciate the language and now you spilled beer—no more,” Monbouquette recalled in an interview with Jon Goode of Boston.com. “They said, ‘What are you going to do about it?’ I looked at my father, he nodded, and we sure did a job on them. They put us in a holding cell and put us in cuffs. They had to call Johnny Murphy, the farm director at the time.”

Once released from jail, Monbouquette reported to the PONY League, where he struggled as a rookie. He began to find his way in 1956, winning 15 games with a 2.45 ERA for the Red Sox’ affiliate in Corning, N.Y. The next year, he moved up to the Carolina League, where he pitched well enough to earn a late-season promotion to Albany of the Eastern League.

He was hit hard at Double-A, but the Red Sox moved Monbo up to Triple-A Minneapolis in 1958. He didn’t dominate, striking out 94 batters against 45 walks in 134 innings, but the Red Sox saw enough to promote him to Boston in midsummer. Making 10 starts, he put up a 3.31 ERA, a very fine showing for a 21-year-old making his major league debut.

While Monbouquette pitched well as a rookie, his feisty temper did create some concerns within the organization. When the home plate umpires made a bad call, Monbouquette sometimes ran off the mound to argue with them. Red Sox GM Joe Cronin warned him that such behavior would have to stop. If not, the young right-hander would have to return to Triple-A.

Other teams also took notice of Monbouquette’s short fuse. Some teams, like the rival Yankees, rode him hard from the dugout as a way of breaking his concentration. In an age when bench-jockeying was an accepted practice, Monbouquette became a logical victim. He eventually learned to ignore the opposition hecklers.

In 1959, Monbo made the Red Sox’ Opening Day roster. That was the good news. The bad news? His manager was Mike “Pinky” Higgins, who floated him between the starting rotation and the bullpen. Beyond any resentment for an undefined role, Monbo had little use at all for Higgins, who was a notorious racist.

That same season, utility infielder Pumpsie Green joined the Red Sox, becoming the first black player in the team’s history. Higgins showed little regard for his new African-American player. One day, as noted by FanGraphs’ David Laurila in a recent article, Higgins and his first base coach, Del Baker, began referring to Green through the use of the N-word. They could be heard loud and clear by the Red Sox players, including Monbouquette. So Monbo first approached Baker and told him to stop, threatening him with violence if he continued to use the word. As Monbo and Baker argued, Higgins approached the two men to inquire about the situation. Within a few moments, Monbo began to tear into Higgins.

Higgins would be fired in midseason, replaced on a fulltime basis by Billy Jurges, who gave Monbouquette a fulltime job as a starter in 1960. Under Jurges, Monbo began to blossom.

In a strange twist, the Red Sox fired Jurges in midseason, replaced him with Baker on an interim basis, and then brought back Higgins as the fulltime skipper. By then, Monbouquette had established himself as an untouchable member of the Red Sox’ rotation. He had pitched so well that he was named the starter for the American League in the All-Star Game. While the other three Sox starters had ERAs well over 4.00, Monbouquette took over as the unquestioned ace. Monbo made 30 starts, completed 12 of them, and won 14 games for a dreadful Red Sox club that won only 65 games overall.

Higgins remained the manager in 1961, but he didn’t dare remove Monbo from the rotation. Establishing himself as a workhorse, the young right-hander made 32 starts, logged 236 innings, and struck out 161 batters. He also struck out 17 batters in a single game, setting a Red Sox record that would remain on the books until it was bettered by Roger Clemens. Monbo was a bit wild—yielding 100 walks on the season—but his overall effectiveness in an expansion season where American League batters held the upper hand once again made him the Red Sox ace.

In 1962, Monbouquette reached his peak. Making 35 starts, he lowered his walk total to 65, trimmed his ERA to 3.33, and won 15 games. Monbo’s performance earned him his second selection to the All-Star Game. But it was his single-game performance on Aug. 1 that got him the most headlines. Facing a White Sox lineup that featured several capable hitters—including Nellie Fox, Luis Aparicio, Floyd Robinson and Al Smith—Monbouquette pitched a no-hitter. Striking out seven, Monbo came within one walk of pitching a perfect game.

A Hardball Times Update
Goodbye for now.

In 1963, Monbouquette became the object of desire of one of the Red Sox’ rivals. The Yankees approached the Sox about a trade, offering slugging first baseman Moose Skowron. Smartly, the Sox turned down the offer. That turned out to be the right decision, given what Monbo accomplished in 1963, as he made his third All-Star team. Although his ERA rose to 3.81, he struck out a career-high 174 batters, logged a personal best 266 innings, and reached the 20-win plateau for the only time in his career. Given the Red Sox’ sub-500 finish, Monbo’s win total became even more impressive.

From Monbouquette’s perspective, there was reason for his effectiveness in 1963. “I’m around the plate more often; I don’t walk as many,” he told sportswriter Joe Donnelly. “I get mad at myself, but not like I used to. I don’t put on temper exhibitions out there. I concentrate more.”

Monbo also felt comfortable pitching for a new manager in Johnny Pesky, who had replaced Higgins. Monbo respected Pesky for his willingness to treat his players as men. In turn, Pesky praised his ace pitcher for having the kind of makeup that managers craved. “I’ll tell you why Bill has been a successful pitcher ever since he joined the Red Sox,” Pesky said in an interview with Hy Hurwitz. “He works at his profession… He was a winner before I [even] got here.”

Monbouquette believed in working and playing hard—at all times. That’s why he became so upset when he saw one of his teammates, Carl Yastrzemski, failing to hustle. Monbo didn’t care about Yaz’ status with the team. He approached Yaz and threatened to fight him if he didn’t hustle the next time.

Monbo’s work ethic included a desire to finish what he started. At 5-foot-11 and 190 pounds, Monbo hardly looked like a workhorse pitcher. But he would remain durable over the next two seasons, even as the excessive workload of pitching every fourth day began to take its toll. In 1964, his ERA rose to 4.04. Pesky sent him to the bullpen in the hope that he could work through his struggles. The following year, he lost 18 games, the most in the league. Monbo was still good, just not the ace he had been over the previous four seasons.

Concerned by his dwindling effectiveness, the Red Sox unloaded Monbo after the 1965 season. In early October, they sent him to the Tigers for infielder George Smith, outfielder George Thomas and an inconsequential player to be named later. The trade was not popular in Boston, where fans loved Monbo’s toughness and durability, not to mention his Massachusetts upbringing.

The Red Sox took their share of criticism over the trade, but in reality, they understood that Monbouquette was well past his prime. His new pitching coach in Detroit, the great Johnny Sain, tried to resuscitate his career as a strike-throwing long reliever and spot starter, but Monbo was largely ineffective. Although he walked only 22 batters in 102 innings, he gave up a whopping 120 hits and saw his ERA soar to 4.73.

Monbouquette hated pitching out of the bullpen. “I’m a starter, not a reliever,” he told Terry Jones of The Sporting News. “Once I sat in the bullpen for three weeks without getting into a game. There’s no dough in the bullpen.”

Predicting that he would not be with the Tigers in 1967, Monbo managed to make the team’s Opening Day roster—but then lasted only two appearances into the season. Feeling that his arm was shot, the Tigers released him in the middle of May. Monbouquette sent telegrams to most of the major league clubs, asking for a look-see. Only two teams showed any interest: the Mets and the Yankees.

Three weeks after his release, the Yankees took a flyer, signing him to work as a reliever and spot starter. Remarkably, Monbouquette bounced back in an unforeseen way, forging a 2.36 ERA and making himself the most effective of all the Yankee relievers. Exhibiting pinpoint control, he walked only 17 batters in 133 innings.

Unfortunately, Monbouquette could not sustain that level of success into the 1968 season. After a poor first half, the Yankees traded him to the Giants for relief ace Lindy McDaniel. Plagued by a sore arm, Monbo made only seven appearances for San Francisco. At season’s end, the Giants sold him to the Astros, but he never made it back to the big leagues. At 32, Monbo was done.

Although he could no longer pitch, Monbouquette had no interest in leaving the sport. Given his love of the game, it was only natural that he would turn to scouting and then minor league managing. From there, he became a pitching coach.

I first became aware of Monbouquette prior to the 1982 season, when the Mets named him their pitching coach after a long stint in their farm system. Working under manager George Bamberger, Monbo took over the supervision of a staff that featured a young Mike Scott and three fledgling relief aces in Neil Allen, Jesse Orosco and Jeff Reardon.

Unfortunately, Bamberger and Monbo had conflicting philosophies of pitching. A former pitching coach himself, Bamberger had strong opinions about how to run a staff. By 1983, it was obvious that the two could no longer function together. So the Mets removed Monbo as pitching coach and bumped him to a scouting position.

Three years later, the Yankees gave him a chance to return to coaching. Yankees owner George Steinbrenner, upset by the performance of his pitching staff, fired Mark Connor in the middle of the 1985 season, replacing him with Monbouquette. Given Steinbrenner’s predilection for hiring and firing pitching coaches, it was not the most stable employment available, but Monbouquette didn’t care. He took the job, finished out the season, and then hit the road at the end of the year, when Steinbrenner fired manager Billy Martin and several of his coaches. From there, Monbouquette went to work for the Blue Jays in their minor league system.

In his later days, Monbouquette came to central New York as the pitching coach for the Oneonta Tigers, located only 22 miles from Cooperstown. He loved working with young pitchers, even if they could frustrate him with their inability to throw strikes. “I look forward everyday going to the park,” Monbo told Boston.com in 2004. “I like to see that little gleam in their [the pitchers’] eyes, because I had it [too].”

Those who knew him in Oneonta would say that Monbo still had the gleam, even in his later years. More than most coaches, or players, for that matter, Monbouquette made his presence felt at Damaschke Field. He was willing to talk to anyone, from staffers to fans, and loved sharing his experiences from the game. But more than anything, it was his dry sense of humor that made him enjoyable to be around.

Monbo became especially close friends with John Horne, the Tigers’ public address announcer. “His last game we had ‘Monbo Night’ and we dedicated the bullpen to him,” Horne recalls.  “That year we had a giveaway for home runs as we always did.  One of the prizes was a pair of silk boxer shorts. We gave him a pair and he said [sarcastically], ‘Just what I always wanted.’ ”

Monbo could poke fun at himself as well as others, but he was very serious about the craft of pitching. Without question, he took an old-school approach to the game. He did not believe much in pitch counts—he felt they were overdone—but had to obey them on command from the Tigers’ top minor league officials.

Critics might say that Monbo himself would have benefited from pitch counts, considering that that he wore out his arm and was basically done by his 30th birthday. There’s no question that Monbouquette’s career would have benefited long-term from the use of pitch counts and innings limits. Perhaps he could have pitched until his mid-30s, if not longer.

Yet, a counter-argument could also be made. Since pitch counts were not really enforced back in the 1960s, Monbo was allowed to pitch—and was thus allowed to be as good as he was in his prime years. If his innings had been limited, he wouldn’t have put up the kind of numbers that he did from 1960 to 1963, when he was such a dominant pitcher for the Red Sox. He might not have won 20 games, might not have pitched a no-hitter, and might not have made three All-Star teams.

What would you rather be: a pitcher of mediocre accomplishments over a long span of years, or a pitcher of strong and notable accomplishments over a short span of time?

I think Monbo would have taken the second option every time.

References & Resources


Bruce Markusen has authored seven baseball books, including biographies of Roberto Clemente, Orlando Cepeda and Ted Williams, and A Baseball Dynasty: Charlie Finley’s Swingin’ A’s, which was awarded SABR's Seymour Medal.
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hopbitters
9 years ago

I don’t recall much of his playing/coaching career, but I remember Charlie Brown once unsuccessfully tried to trade Monboquette’s card (along with Ford, Mantle, and some other notables) to Lucy for a Joe Shlabotnik card. So, he was good enough to keep the company of the Yankee greats (and others – I just remember the Yankees), but not cute enough to make the cut with Lucy. Neither was Shlabotnik for that matter. Upon further inspection, she decided to toss his card in the last panel.

Marc Schneider
9 years ago
Reply to  hopbitters

Doesn’t Joe Schlabotnik play centerfield for the Braves?

Paul G.
9 years ago
Reply to  hopbitters

Comic available online:

http://vignette4.wikia.nocookie.net/peanuts/images/b/b5/Pe630818.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20131015014322

On the first attempt Chuck offered Whitey Ford, Mickey Mantle, Robin Roberts, Luis Aparicio, Bill Monbouquette, Dick Stuart, and Juan Pizarro and then ups the ante. You can tell how disappointed he is when he leaves some of his baseball cards on the ground and walks away.

hopbitters
9 years ago
Reply to  Paul G.

Thanks for the link, Paul. He had quite the collection…

Dennis Bedard
9 years ago

Funny. I followed the Red Sox closely in the mid to late 60’s. Only now do I realize that correct spelling is with an “n” and not an “m”. When I moved to Philadelphia in the 70”s I remember the Mummers parade on New Year’s day which reminded me of Mo[m]bouquette. I believe Monboquette was also French Canadien, an honor he would share with Nap Lajoie, another native New Englander/French Candien who made it in the majors.

MALLOW
9 years ago

Monbo made an appearance at a card show in Bangor back in the early 90’s where I got to meet him and got a photo and a card signed (his ’68 Topps Yankees card). Pretty cool for a 6 or 7 year old Yankees fan kid to meet a nice fellow like him.

Yehoshua Friedman
9 years ago

Is baseball better with scientific management of pitches with a large bullpen and a pitch count? The cost of a guy blowing his arm out by 30 vs. a low-offense dull game is a tough question. Maybe the roster rules should be tightened to lower the number of pitchers and force the teams to use position players to pitch or pitchers to hit and play positions. Forcing versatility at the expense of quality of pitching could be a possibility. The simplicity of classic baseball has become forever compromised. Trying to simulate it by tinkering will be transparent. You can’t go home again.

glenn-troy ny
9 years ago

Got to meet Bill at of all places the RPI Houston fieldhouse hockey arena in the early 90’s. There was a promotion at the Capital District Islanders minor league hockey game that between periods Bill would be available to sign autographs. I had brought a 1968 Topps card that he signed. I asked him about his no hitter and how did he get the last out. He told me he struck out Aparacio for the no no 🙂