Baseball Way Back: Farmer remained working-class hero

In a commercial with booth partner Darrin Jackson, the late broadcaster Ed Farmer talked about his dream job, driving a Windy City Limousine.

It was a joke, of course, but given Farmer's rocky tour through the major leagues, it wasn't too much of a stretch to imagine that the job might have been his fate.

Farmer endeared himself to many Sox fans because he grew up rooting for the team and eventually pitched for the squad. But he connected with a particular type of Sox fan, of the blue-collar variety, the type you used to find at Comiskey Park in the 1970s.

In March 1980, on the verge of a career year and an all-star appearance, he told columnist Bob Verdi, "If we lose touch with the guy who carries his lunch to work every day and lives to go to the ballpark Friday night after he's cashed his paycheck, then we lose touch with ourselves."

Those words would have resonated with me at the time, as I saved dollars from my dead-end summer job to enjoy a Friday night at Comiskey, followed by pizza at Gino's East on Rush Street.

In the same column, Farmer, referred to as a "part-time pitcher and full-time thinker," opens up about how an injured arm forced him out of baseball for a time. At one point, he worked in a warehouse.

Shoulder surgery and a head-on collision with a car while he was riding a 10-speed bicycle were among the setbacks he had to overcome to get back to the bigs in 1977, with one appearance for Baltimore after a hiatus of two full seasons.

The can't-miss prospect from St. Rita High School had already bounced from Cleveland to Detroit to Philadelphia, compiling a 15-14 record, 17 saves and an ERA that never dipped below 4.35 in each of those years.

But in 1979, Farmer came home, traded from Texas to Bill Veeck's White Sox in exchange for another Veeck reclamation project, South Side Hit Man Eric Soderholm. Replacing an injured Mike Proly, he posted 14 saves and a 2.43 ERA in 42 appearances.

The Sox and Farmer proved a magical combination in 1980. Although the team itself was, for the most part, dismal, despite the presence of two future Hall-of-Famers, Tony LaRussa and Harold Baines, and a nucleus of pitchers -- Britt Burns, Richard Dotson and LaMarr Hoyt -- who would later help hurl the Sox to the AL West title in 1983.

It was an era when the team was very much the sideshow to Veeck's carnival, when the team played second fiddle to the announcers, the organist, the food, even at times Andy the Clown.

It even had a shortstop, Harry Chappas, who was listed by contemporary scribes as 5-foot-3-inches and, for two games, a left-handed catcher, Mike Squires.

But as the Sox floundered, Farmer thrived in those 1900s replica Sox togs. The 30-year-old Farmer notched 30 saves, an ERA of 3.34 and 7 wins for a 1980 squad that only won 70 games. Think about that. He figured in more than half of the team's victories.

He went 2-0 with 6 saves in April, including a win against his hated Yankees, as the team jumped out to a surprising 12-6 start that put it temporarily in first place.

He piled up 7 saves in May and five in August, as the team plummeted to 55-72 by the beginning of September.

The only blemish on the record was the 9 games in the loss column. One of those losses, against Detroit June 20, provided a lasting memory.

The Tigers' Al Cowens, whose jaw had been broken the year before on a pitch from then-Ranger Farmer, was at the plate.

In the WSNS footage available on YouTube, all you see is Cowens hitting the ball, before the camera cuts to the befuddled shortstop, Todd Cruz, who hesitates before throwing to first baseman Squires for the out.

What you don't see is Cowens charging the mound and attacking Farmer.

The camera next focuses on a pile of diving, tackling, and punching players.

Announcer Harry Caray calls the attack "cowardly," declaring, "A fight is a fight, but not when the guy's got his back turned to you."

Within a few minutes, however, Caray exclaims, "This is a better fight than Leonard and Duran."

In Farmer's postgame comments, he said Cowens, who was replaced in the lineup by future Sox outfielder Dave Stegman, only scratched him with his fingernail.

"I hope he sleeps well tonight. If that's his best shot, he won't scare anybody. It wasn't even a punch."

Farmer later swore out a warrant for Cowens' arrest, but agreed to drop charges if Cowens would offer his hand.

That occurred in Detroit on Sept. 1, when Farmer and Cowens shook hands at home plate while handing their teams' lineup cards to the umpire prior to the game.

The Sox then went on to beat Detroit 11-3.

Throughout his playing and broadcasting career with the Sox, Farmer never lost touch with the fans.

He was well worth the price of the ticket.

• Reach Steve at szalusky@dailyherald.com