David Clyde: Onetime Texas Pitching Phenom and Lost Boy of Baseball Schools Young Players
That's because, in between March thunderstorms, the former Texas Ranger is speaking with me on the phone while schooling a young pitcher at a North Houston baseball academy.
Clyde knows a thing or dozen about the pressures of being a young hurler. After going 18-0 at Houston's Westchester High School, the lefty was taken with the No. 1 pick by the Texas Rangers in 1973's amateur draft, receiving an unheard of $125,000 signing bonus at the time. The team owner was desperate for a local hook to boost sagging home game attendance.
I tell Clyde about having seen him as a rookie on the cover of Sports Illustrated or The Sporting News, his lanky frame photographed in the middle of a high-kicking wind-up. But he politely informs he did not make the cover of those mags, only significant feature spreads inside. Wherever we saw the story, it certainly made an impression on us sandlotters and Little Leaguers. Baseball turned a kid into a pro--our dreams really could come true.
The Clyde interview for lost boys was condensed for print, with some quotes and the orders he's barking out to his young charge removed for space and clarity reasons. Reading the conversation in full below offers a flavor of what it's like listening in on the phone.
Clyde was out of Major League Baseball by 1979, having suffered an arm injury with the Cleveland Indians and, despite trades back to Texas and the Houston Astros, he never made it back to the mound in a big league game. He was just 37 days shy of the four years of pro service required to get a full pension.
My first question concerns rumors he was removed from the MLB Players Alumni Associations pensions committee for asking too many tough questions on behalf of fellow lost boys frozen out of lifetime pensions and access to healthcare
"The answer that I was given was I wasn't renewed," Clyde says in his Texas drawl. "I
was not told directly it had to do with that, so anything I have to say about that is pure conjecture. But a little bit on the funny side of that is we get these things approved, we are part of the inner committeee that got it approved, and then myself and Gary Neibauer are no longer needed."
Clyde says he remains "fearful" about those retirees no longer having a voice on the pensions committee.
"I don't mean sound ugly or whatever, but for 25 years nothing happened," says Clyde before shouting, "WIND UP!"
Asked about players from his era who are vested in the pension taking an interest in the plight of the lost boys, Clyde answers, "For the most part there have been very few. My fear is who is there to represent us now? Yes, sometimes you have to step on toes to get things done, but I don't think anybody I asked questions of acted as if I was out of line."
I tell him about Tustin's Dick Baney, a lost boy who pitched for the Seattle Pilots and Cincinnati Reds, saying 90 percent of the non-vested are unhappy about what they are receiving.
"I'll be honest with you, I'm not totally happy with what I got, and I'm at the highest end
He receives about $9,300 annually after taxes through 2016.
"I want you to know I'm very grateful for what I got, because it's more than I had
before, what we had before. I don't mean to be rude, but if any player is not happy with
it, if he wants to give it back, go right ahead. If they are that unhappy with it, give it back.
Because there was nothing before.
"Still, my fear is there is nobody out there to represent the non-vested player.