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SCOTTSDALE, AZ — John Wooden recruited him to play basketball at UCLA while Branch Rickey wanted him to play baseball for the Brooklyn Dodgers.
He was teammates with Hall of Famers Willie Mays, Roberto Clemente, Willie McCovey, Ernie Banks and Larry Doby during his playing career. He managed Hall of Famers Billy Williams and Bruce Sutter.
He worked for Charlie Finley. And he hung out with Sadaharu Oh.
Welcome to the beautiful life of Jim Marshall.
Marshall is an original member of the infamous 1962 New York Mets, and will be honored Monday night as the oldest living Met before their game against the Arizona Diamondbacks at Chase Field.
“I worked in baseball for 70 years," said Marshall, who turns 94 later in May, “and as a baseball player or manager, we always dream of being No. 1.
“Well, I finally made it."
His greatest memory of that historic season where the Mets went 40-120 and produced the most losses in a single season until the Chicago White Sox toppled it last year?
“Opening Day at the Polo Grounds," Marshall says. “They were doing the player introductions, and when they got to me, they booed the hell out of me because Gil Hodges wasn’t playing. He was hurt, but they just buried me.
“Welcome to New York."
Rufus James Marshall, who has gone by his middle name since attending Compton High School, spent five years in the major leagues as a first baseman and pinch-hitter. He played three years in Japan for the Chunichi Dragons. He managed the Chicago Cubs for three years and Oakland Athletics for a season. He scouted nearly 25 years for the Arizona Diamondbacks.
He spent two hours with USA TODAY Sports talking about his life, his fondest memories and favorite funny moments from his 70-year professional baseball career.
“Casey was so bad with names, and when I was playing for the Mets, he kept calling me Blanchard. There was a [Johnny] Blanchard with the Yankees where he managed before. He kept calling me Blanchard, so I just let him do it.
“One day I’m in the batter’s box at the Polo Grounds, and here comes Casey out of the dugout. I step out and he says to me, 'Shoot for the lines. Shoot for the lines.’ I say, “What the hell does that mean?’ He says, 'All of the players are in the middle of the so shoot for the lines.’ I guess it made sense.
“He didn’t know the players’ names, but I’ll tell you one thing, he was magic with the press."
“I’m facing Bob Gibson. The batter ahead of me had dug a pretty good hole in the batter’s box, so I’m just filling in the hole, brushing dirt into it. Gibson sees me and says, 'Make it nice and comfortable because that’s where you’re going to be [expletive] laying.
“I thought, 'Holy [smokes], I think he means it.' Sure enough he knocked me down on my [butt]. He went right at my head. That ball just missed me. If it hit me, I wouldn’t be sitting here today."
“When I was scouting the Pacific Rim, I saw Ichiro [Suzuki] a lot, and he told me that his dad was a huge Chunichi Dragons fans and actually has a picture of me in their house. Ichiro was such a great guy, a great kid. He would always call me gaijin, which means foreigner in Japanese. So, the first time I see him when he gets to Seattle, I walk into their clubhouse and say, “Well, you’re the gaijin now.’ He says, 'Oh, grandfather, don’t tease me.’
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