Page 243 - 1975 BoSox

236 ’75—THE RED SOX TEAM THAT SAVED BASEBALL
a hospital where it was determined that he had su ered a ministroke. Doctors told him to give up chewing tobacco. Zimmer returned shortly to spring training.10
Zimmer sensed in 1994 that his relationship with Baylor had begun to sour. It became more evident during spring training in 1995. ere was bad blood between Gebhard and third-base coach Ron Hassey. Baylor was getting in the middle of it. Zimmer was friends with Gebhard, and that association caused friction. Baylor was close to Hassey, and so he ostra- cized Zimmer. e divide became wider as the season went on; Zimmer informed Gebhard on June 6 that he had decided to retire.
Zimmer returned home and really enjoyed himself that summer, but in his heart he was still not ready to retire. For the rst time, he did not receive a call from a major-league team. A friend suggested that he sign up for Social Security. Two weeks later he found a check in the mail. About a week passed, but then he received a call from Joe Torre, who had become the Yankees’ manager and needed a bench coach.
Zimmer served in that capacity from 1996 through 2003. When Torre rst called, Zimmer gured that he wanted ask him his opinion on a player, but when Torre o ered the bench-coach position, he told his wife, “ is is really going to work.”11 Zimmer and Torre had a distant respect for each other when they managed against each other in the National League, but the respect deepened when they worked together. Zimmer claimed that in the eight years he spent with Torre, he never really saw Torre get angry—he was the most even-keeled person Zimmer had ever been around. When Leo Durocher said, “Nice guys nish last,” he did not know Joe Torre. Zimmer said the hardest part about leaving the Yankees was leaving Torre. In seven out of the eight years they coached together, the Yankees won their division. ey went to six World Series, winning four times.
One incident marred Zimmer’s tenure with the Yankees. Zimmer’s confrontation with Pedro Martínez during Game ree of the 2003 ALCS, in which Martínez threw Zimmer to the ground, is an image
that springs to many minds when Zimmer’s name is mentioned. Yet as Derek Jeter later said, Zimmer’s charge after the benches emptied showed that at 72, he remained a very spirited competitor.
Zimmer did not want to leave the Yankees, but he did so because of George Steinbrenner. He admitted that he should have seen it coming. For years he had seen the way Steinbrenner treated others — Zimmer viewed it as childish and thought that Steinbrenner did not enjoy being happy and that “ e Boss” was bothered by not getting enough credit for the Yankees’ success. After the 2003 season, Zimmer decided that he had had enough.
Mentally, he felt he was nally ready for life without baseball. But in stepped Vince Naimoli, the original owner of the Tampa Bay Devil Rays. Naimoli wanted to make use of Zimmer’s knowledge of the game; he o ered him the job of senior adviser. One of the biggest selling points was how close Tropicana Field was to Zimmer’s home in Treasure Island — just 15 minutes.
All they asked of Zimmer was to come to spring training as a special coach and instructor, in uniform. en, when the regular season started, he would sit upstairs in the suites during home games.
Zimmer spent the last 10 years of his life working for the Tampa Rays, from 2004 to 2014. On June 4, 2014, Zimmer died at the age of 83 in Dunedin, Florida. He was survived by his wife, Carol Jean; his son, Tommy; his daughter, Donna; and four grandchildren. Tommy was drafted by the St. Louis Cardinals and played in the minor leagues from 1971 to 1979, rising as high as Double-A in the St. Louis and Pittsburgh organizations. He also managed in the minors, and scouted for the San Francisco Giants for several years.12
Co-author Bill Madden, in their book e Zen of Zim, quoted Zimmer as saying, “All I’ve ever been is a simple baseball man, but it’s never ceased to amaze me how so many more accomplished people I’ve met in this life wanted to be one too.”
“What a game, this baseball!”13