SAC's DUNLOP ON RECEIVING END

OF NECCIAI'S RECORD-SETTING 27 KO GAME

Harry Dunlop had the best view that historic May 13^th night in 1952, when 19-year-old right-hander Ron Necciai accomplished what no pitcher in professional baseball had ever done and has never done since.  

On that spring evening at Shaw Stadium in the mountains of Virginia, the 18-year-old catcher from Sacramento became part of history when Necciai struck out 27 batters and pitched a 7-0, nine-inning no-hitter for the Bristol Twins against the Welch Miners. From that day on, Necciai would be known as “Rocket Ron.” 

The 76-year-old Dunlop has been asked to relive that record-breaking night often. He says the stories that have been printed over the past 58 years have been embellished so much that sorting fact from fiction is even hard for him.  

“Almost every year some sportswriter somewhere calls Ron and then me and asks about that game,” said Dunlop from his home in Elk Grove. “No matter how many times I tell the story, none of them ever gets it right.”  

Still, Dunlop says telling the Ron Necciai story never gets old.

“We knew striking out that many batters was an accomplishment, but never thought of it as anything more than that,” Dunlop said. “We figured somebody must have done it before. We were kids. We didn’t know any better. Not until the next day when the media and everyone made such a big deal about it did Ron say, ‘We must have really done something.’” 

The only reason Necciai was even in the minor leagues in 1952 was because he suffered from severe stomach ulcers and was often seen spitting up blood at spring training in San Bernardino. Instead of pitching for the Pittsburgh Pirates, he was sent on a medical rehabilitation assignment to Bristol, Va. of the Class-D level Appalachian League, the rock-bottom of all minor leagues.  

Dunlop described Necciai as “short tempered” and that “every little thing bothered him. It didn’t take much for that stomach of his to act up. He was what mama would call a worrywart.” 

Necciai said calling him a worrywart was being kind. 

“I worried about stuff that hadn’t happened yet,” the 6-foot-5, 185-pounder said from his spring home in Anna Maria Island, Florida.  

Dunlop and Necciai were roommates and before the game that historic night the two had lunch at Traylor’s, a well-known local eatery.  Often owner Jack Traylor would let the two eat for free. It was noon and Necciai’s stomach was already acting up.   

Dunlap said he tried to take Necciai’s mind off his ailment by “kidding him about the girls at the local colleges.” 

By game-time Necciai’s stomach was really churning and he wasn’t sure he could play. Bristol manager George Detore told his young pitcher to give it shot and see how long he could go. Necciai had five strikeouts through the first two innings. 

Necciai was so overpowering that by the fourth inning batters began to bunt hoping to just get the ball in play. The best they could do, however, was foul the ball off. 

By the sixth inning fans began chanting with each strikeout – 15, 16, 17. Oblivious to what was going on, when Dunlop returned to the dugout he asked what all the commotion in the stands was all about. He was told, Neccai was striking everyone out. 

“Even at that time, I didn’t know Ron was on his way to setting a record,” Dunlop said. “Ron was one of those guys who didn’t get batters out one-two-three. He always threw a lot of pitches. I was concentrating on doing my job and keeping track of strikeouts wasn’t part of that job.” 

By the seventh inning, Necciai’s ulcers were burning big-time, so badly Detore sent the ball boy out to the mound with cottage cheese, milk and Banthine, a medication used to treat stomach disorders. 

“You’ve got to remember this was the 1950s, not yesterday,” Necciai said. “That was pretty much the accepted treatment at that time.” 

Despite his discomfort, Necciai’s strikeout total rose and the chanting from the stands continued – 18, 19, 20. 

Necciai began the ninth inning with 23 strikeouts. The first batter was a pinch hitter, who lofted a pop up in foul territory near home plate. According to articles in the local newspapers, while Dunlop circled the popup the fans started screaming for him to drop the ball. Some reports said the first baseman said to drop it. Other reports suggested what followed was done purpose. 

Dunlop was unable make the play and the ball dropped to the ground untouched. 

 “No way in the world did I intentionally drop that ball,” Dunlop said. “Why on earth would I ever let something like that happen? I was 18 years old and trying to prove I was a ballplayer. Besides, I’m not that smart. And, to set the record straight, no way was our first baseman or the fans yelling for me to drop it. 

“I just flat missed it. I was never any good at catching pop fouls. In fact, I never caught a pop foul before I played in the minor leagues. Playing at Sacramento High School and on the local diamonds, the backstops were right behind home plate and had those screens that extend up and back toward the playing field. I never got a chance to catch one. I was so bad I spent my first year in the minors practicing an extra hour each day just catching foul balls.” 

The thought of someone suggesting a ballplayer would miss a ball on purpose upsets Necciai. 

“I can’t imagine anybody ever dropping a ball on purpose,” he said. “How do you even know what’s going to happen with the next batter. Doing something like that could change the whole game. If a player ever dropped a ball on purpose in pro ball he’d be in big doo-doo. All Harry and I ever wanted to do is get the batter out.”  

Dunlop returned to his catching position and Necciai registered his 24^th strikeout. The next batter struck out as well. The third batter of the inning struck out, but the ball got past Dunlop. Again, there was suspicion that he did it on purpose. Dunlop insisted otherwise. 

“Ron wasn’t easy to handle,” Dunlop said. “His curve ball was so good and dropped so much that many of them hit in the dirt before I could catch them. I was always on my knees trying to block the ball.  On that two-strike pitch, the batter swung and the ball clipped the corner of the plate and bounced up over my head. I never touched the ball at all.” 

Necciai praised Dunlop for his ability to catch and call a game. 

“He was a great catcher especially for someone like me who threw lots and lots and lots of balls,” Necciai said. “He’d put the sign down and never move a muscle. No one will ever accuse me of being a control pitcher. Ask any catcher who caught me. I had to be the hardest guy in baseball to catch. When I was scheduled to pitch, the talk was who is going box with Necciai tonight.” 

The final batter struck out for number 27. Four Miners batters reached first base on a walk, error, hit batsman and a passed ball.  

At the game was Pittsburgh general manager Branch Rickey, a man with a keen eye for talent and one who wasn’t afraid to buck the system. The legendary Rickey, who was responsible for tearing down the racial barrier in major league baseball by bringing Jackie Robinson to the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1947, was so impressed he called Necciai “a miracle.” 

Rickey was there for Necciai’s next start and said, “If he gets through the first inning, he proves to me he’s a major leaguer.” 

Necciai threw a two-hitter and struck out 24, including a record five strikeouts in one inning. His performance earned him a promotion to last-place Burlington of the Class B Carolina League. There he was 7-9, but led the league in ERA (1.57) and strikeouts (172). Announcing the 19-year-old had nothing more to prove at the minor league level, Necciai finished the year with the Pirates, who lost 112 games. He was 1-6 with 31 strikeouts in 542/3 innings. 

Rickey said, “There have only been two young pitchers I was certain was destined for greatness simply because they had the meanest fastball a batter can face. One of those boys was Dizzy Dean. The other one was Necciai.” 

While Necciai’s May 13^th no-hit, 27-strikeout performance was stunningly unexpected, there were signs that Necciai’s arm was special. 

In leading up that special night, he struck out 20 and 19 hitters, respectively, in back-to-back games. And, in a relief appearance with the bases loaded struck out the side and then the next eight batters to set a league record of 11 in a row. In four starts and two relief stints with the Twins, Necciai was 4-0 with a 0.42 ERA, gave up 10 hits and had 109 strikeouts in 42 innings.  

 “He had great stuff,” Dunlop said. “He was a bulldog. He never gave in to anyone and threw as hard as anyone I’ve ever been associated with. He had the speed of Tom Seaver and the movement on the ball of Bruce Sutter. I thought he was going to set the world on fire.” 

Necciai never looked at himself that way. 

“I don’t think I was that good,” Necciai said. “I never did and never will.” 

Dunlop and Necciai enjoyed playing for Detore because he always talked to his pitchers and catchers after each game, going over what they did right and what they did wrong. An excited Dunlop looked forward to Detore’s evaluation after the game. 

Dunlop said. “After this one, I figure he’s going to come up to me and tell me I did a great job. But, instead he says, ‘I guess you thought you caught a great game tonight. What pitch did you throw to the second batter in the fifth inning? When you can tell me what pitch you called to every hitter in the game and why, then I’ll tell you that you caught a helluva game.” 

Dunlop’s resume boasts more than just that one game. After Necciai’s gem, he caught back-to-back no-hitters by Bill Bell, who struck out 20 and 24 batters, respectively. Bell, who was killed in an auto accident in 1962, added a third no-hitter on August 25 in a seven-inning game. 

“I caught three no-hitters in my first 14 games and had more putouts than our team combined. I thought this pro game was going to be easy. It went pretty much downhill after that,” Dunlop joked.  

Despite his medical condition, Necciai was drafted into the Army in January of 1953 and spent as much time in a hospital as he did with his military unit. He was discharged three months later. However, he missed all of spring training. In his rush to return to the Pirates, he developed a sore arm. Later diagnosed with a torn rotator cuff, he appeared in 10 more minor league games before walking away from the game in 1955. 

Dunlop, on the other hand, spent 50 years in baseball, 14 years as a minor league player (.276 average), 13 years as a minor league manager (seven as a player/manager, 894-794 record), three years as a minor league field coordinator (1988-90) and 21 years as a major league coach with Kansas City (1969-75), Chicago Cubs (1976), Cincinnati Reds (1979-82, 1998-2000), San Diego Padres (1983-87) and Florida Marlins (2005). 

Dunlop authored a recently released book

Dunlop said as May 13^th nears, the calls will come. Each caller will ask the same questions. How hard was he throwing? How many pitches did he throw? And, will that ever happen again?” 

“I tell them there were no radar guns back then and no one kept track of a pitch count,” Dunlop said. “And, I tell them, there’s no chance at all of that ever happening again simply because no one ever throws nine innings in the major leagues anymore and pitchers in the minor leagues are on a strict pitch count.”

Harry Dunlop, who enjoyed a 50-year-career in professional baseball, proudly points to a Cleveland Indians Jersey worn by his good friend, Joe Gordon, who wore the jersey in the 1948 World Series. Gordon, the American League MVP in 1942 with the Yankees, also was the player/manager for the Sacramento Solons' in 1951-1952. The jersey is one of many on dislay in Dunlop's trophy room at his Elk Grove home.

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Mark McDermott is a retired Sacramento Bee sports staffer and a local product who played baseball at
Norte Del Rio, American River College and Sac State. He writes for several news outlets, including BaseballSacramento.com