The Folly Floater

Hamilton was never a star reliever. He was the mop up kind of guy who pitched in games that got out of hand. He came in when the starter left early. His only real pivotal season was 1968 when he saved eleven games and had a sparkling 2.13 ERA and a 0.937 WHIP. But even that didn’t matter since the Yankees finished in the bottom of the standings. But when you are a kid, you latch on to guys like Steve Hamilton. Just like my favorite New York Knick was Phil Jackson. Jackson didn’t get much playing time, but we lived for when he actually got in the game and used that big lefty hook of his. Jackson, of course, would go on to have a pretty successful coaching career. Hamilton was the Phil Jackson of baseball. He was the middling reliever.

But he wasn’t just any middling reliever. He was pretty darned good at it. He pitched in 421 games and ended his career with a 3.05 ERA. He even started seventeen games along the way and completed three of them with one shutout. But mostly, he was a middling reliever. And he was a lefty. Hamilton was born and died in Kentucky (1935-1997) so not only was he an older looking gentleman, he was a southern gentleman.

But what made Steve Hamilton one of the true heroes of my childhood was the “Folly Floater.” What’s that, you ask? That’s what Hamilton called his slow ball. Others who threw them, like Satchel Paige, called it an Eepheus pitch. But Hamilton called his the Folly Floater. Now baseball has always been somewhat of a conservative game. Baseball frowns upon gimmicks. Baseball hated Bill Veeck’s “midget.” An infielder may get away with the hidden ball trick, but he will get knocked down the next time he gets to the plate. The slow ball is about as gimmicky as you can get away with in Major League Baseball. And to be sure, Hamilton probably wasn’t very popular around the league for throwing it.

But what the heck. The Yankees were terrible during that period of time. They couldn’t hit. They could pitch. They had starting pitchers that swapped wives. It was a really bad time for New York Yankee baseball. But that was the period in which I grew up and that was all there was. And we loved it. Actually, it was a great time to be a kid and a Yankee fan because it was dirt cheap to get into the bleachers and since the stands were so empty, we could get down by the dugout in the box seats after the fourth inning when the ushers left. So who cared much that Steve Hamilton would throw his slow ball and risk embarrassing the game when the Yankees would probably lose either way?

Fortunately, there is video evidence of one such at bat with Hamilton throwing his silly pitch. The batter in this case was Tony Horton, one of the roughest and toughest hombres in the game at that time. The year was 1970 and the game took place on June 24th at Yankee Stadium. The video shows the stadium and you might not even recognize it! Anyway, Horton was big and strong and batted right handed. That’s just what you needed against Hamilton. But…wait…we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s set the game up first.

The Yankees were actually playing well in 1970. After some really dark years, on June 24, 1970 under Ralph Houk, they were in second place with a 40-27 record. Cleveland was in seventh place, one of their usual positions during those years. The Indians had a record of 30-34 and were managed by Al Dark. Both teams started their aces. The Yankees started Mel Stottlemyre and the Indians started Sudden Sam McDowell, one of the blazingest fastball pitchers of his era. Stottlemyre was 8-5 and McDowell was 10-4. The Yankee pitcher would go on to win 15 that season and McDowell would win 20 and come in third in Cy Young Award voting. He struck out 304 batters that season.

McDowell had his best stuff on June 24, 1970 but Stottlemyre didn’t. The Yankee pitcher was knocked out by the fourth inning and McDowell went on to pitch a complete game. The only two runs McDowell gave up were homers to Curt Blefary and a young Bobby Murcer. The Indians had a third baseman by the name of Graig Nettles. But getting back to the game, Stottlemyre was lifted after four innings and was lifted for Mike Kekich, one of the guys in that wife-swapping thing mentioned earlier.

Kekich must have been born under a dark cloud because he was terrible and June 24, 1970 was no different. But he also got no help from his fielders as the usually slick-fielding, Gene Michael, made two errors. But after Kekich pitched his two innings, the score was 6-2 and that was all McDowell needed. The rest of the game was just filler. So we thought.

The next Yankee pitcher was a guy I don’t even remember. His name was Ron Klimkowski. It’s no wonder I don’t remember him as he only pitched 90 games of major league baseball. Klimkowski somehow ended his career with a 2.90 ERA despite a K/9 of only 3.8 and a walk rate of 3.4 per nine innings. In other words, Klimkowski didn’t fool anyone. But he pitched two innings and gave up a run on two walks and a hit. His innings bring us to the top of the ninth and Steve Hamilton was asked to do what he did best: pitch a meaningless ninth inning. The Yankees had no chance of beating McDowell on this day and everyone knew it. It was just another meaningless inning for a middling reliever who had a twelve year career making these kinds of appearances.

But it wasn’t meaningless for those of us glued to the television sets (black and white) and sipping our cokes in the old green bottles. Our guy was in the game! Steve Hamilton! The very first batter he faced was Tony Horton. Horton was only 25 and nobody knew it on June 24, 1970, but Horton would only be in the major leagues for two more months. For that story, click here. But on that day, nobody knew Horton’s breakdown would happen and he was just another good-looking young stud of a ball player. Graig Nettles said that Horton was one of the best hitters he ever saw. But the game wasn’t for Horton and he never played again after 1970. But Horton was the guy that Hamilton would face first in the ninth inning. The linked story seems to indicate that Horton and Hamilton had communicated and that Horton wanted Hamilton to throw his Folly Floater. When viewing the video, it certainly appears that Horton wanted Hamilton to throw it a second time.

But there is no use in describing what happened. That’s best left to the video and to the immortal Phil Rizzuto who described the happenings. What happened between Hamilton and Horton is legendary to all of us that grew up watching baseball in those times. We’ll never forget it. Take it away Uncle Phil:

About William Tasker

William Tasker grew up in Bergenfield, New Jersey but has lived in New England since 1975 and in the far reaches of northern Maine since 1990. Tasker is the author of nine (non-baseball related) books and, besides writing here for three years, has written for his own site at since 2003.

14 thoughts on “The Folly Floater

  1. I was at that double header!

    The Folly Floater incident was great but that was only the first game.

    In the second game there was a fist fight between Stan Bahnsen and Vada Pinson, someone threw a cherry bomb that landed right behind Indians catcher Ray Fosse and Murcer hit 3 HR, the last of which tied the score and helped the Yankees to a big come back win.

    And I saw all of that for the price of a couple of subway tokens and $4.

    Things sure have changed.

  2. BTW, baseball is sorely lacking colorful characters these days. As a kid, my favorite non-Yankee players were Mark "The Bird" and Al "The Mad Hungarian" Hrboski.

  3. If the Folly Floater was part of your childhood, then you're not the oldest writer here. It was part of my adolescence.

    For me, the Folly Floater stood for how far the Yankees had fallen in the late 60s and early 70s. The pitch was entertaining relative to the rest of the team, which was not.

    Hamilton himself was a better than average pitcher for most of his career. He also played a bit in the NBA.

    • HIM has got you by a bit also…by the way, your Editor had a coach in LL that through a version of the Floater…it was never touched…Jason, can you conferm…

  4. Hey I was 13 at the time and an avid Yankee fan. I do remember Steve Hamiliton and the Folly Floater. Very fond memories of the70s Yankees. Sure wish I saved those Basball cards I had back then.

  5. Thanks for the memories. Those were the days when they only televised the first games of doubleheaders. This one was on a Wednesday afternoon and in the second game Bobby Murcer hit three homers, giving him four on the day.

    Steve Hamilton was actually a key man in the bullpen at the end of the dynasty. He made a couple of spot starts in 1964 and actually threw a complete game against the White Sox in the first game of a twi-night doubleheader at the Stadium to kick off a five game sweep in June. It was always puzzling to me why Yogi didn't bring him into the tenth inning of Game 5 to face Tim McCarver. Hamilton was death to lefties and as good as McCarver was, I don't think he hits a 3-run bomb off the lefty.

    Love this stuff. My first year was 1964 and I was hooked for life.

  6. Entertaining to watch, but I was surprised to recognize Thurman Munson from the way he ran down the foul pop. I was young then but not yet a Yankees fan by a couple of years.

  7. Hamilton was also famous for "yanking the chain," bringing his elbow into his chest after getting out of an inning. He'd make a fortune today as a lefty specialist.

  8. I was there! It was my 18th birthday. I had just graduated from high school two days earlier. I purchased my first legal beer sitting in a box seat at Yankee Stadium. I think box seats were $8 back in the day. I will never forget that game. I think Mel Stottelmyer (sp?) ended his career with an injury on that day. The Folly Floater, the cherry bomb and Murcer's home runs…it you can't make that stuff up.