I had made a trip into weirdness at Leo Durocher’s house getting Sandy Koufax’s telephone number. Now my plan was a journey into bitchiness. To somehow avenge the mutually failed relationship with Bo Belinsky—clear my palette, so to speak—I would date one of the most successful pitchers in baseball—L.A. Dodgers ace, Sandy Koufax. What could possibly go wrong?
I called Sandy as soon as I got home, giving him a phony name just to see what his attitude was. We chatted pleasantly enough for a while and when we rung off he told me to call him back sometime. I did, a couple of times, finally telling him who I really was, and eventually making a date for him to come to my house for drinks.
I have written elsewhere that my bedroom is always the focal point of my home. This is not only for the obvious reasons, but because I happen to love sleeping. Consequently, I eat, work, make love, and sleep in my bedroom. The bedroom of my house on Rising Glenn Road in the Hollywood Hills had a large TV set, a dining table and chairs, and a bar in addition to a king-sized bed. So when Sandy arrived, I ushered him into the bedroom and we sat around the table making small talk over drinks.
After a while I suggested that we get into bed and watch TV. I flipped on the television and got into bed on my side. Sandy sat on the other side and began taking off his shoes.
Suddenly, Sandy exclaimed, “Oh!” and jumped up as if he had been shocked. He picked up his shoes and quickly strode out of the bedroom, out the front door, and jumped into his car. As he roared off down the canyon, I watched incredulously from the doorway, wondering what the hell happened.
I wandered back into the bedroom and looked around for an answer. My maid had done her usual good job and everything appeared to be in order—until I looked under the bed where Sandy had been sitting. There, tucked neatly under the edge of the bed was a pair of brown men’s slippers, right where Bo had left them.
Well, I thought, Bo had done it again. Bo was the first pitcher for a Los Angeles baseball team to pitch a no-hitter—May 5, 1962. Koufax would pitch his first no-hitter on June 30, 1962. And this time Bo had shut out Sandy. With a pair of bedroom slippers.
You win some and you lose some and some get rained out, but you’ve got to suit up for them all. –Satchel Paige