The day they traded Gorman Thomas

For 23 years, I worked for The Associated Press in five bureaus across the country and at headquarters in New York. I joined the wire service in Milwaukee in 1981, as the Brewers were gaining momentum that would carry them to the memorable 1982 World Series.

The Brewers lost that series to the St. Louis Cardinals in a riveting seven games, and the Brew Crew entered the 1983 season with a terrific roster that would contend for a pennant again (for a while, anyway). The heart and soul of the team in those days was Stormin’ Gorman Thomas, a hard-swinging, beer-swilling Southerner whose rough-hewn persona made him an overwhelming fan favorite in shot-and-a-beer Milwaukee.

We adored him. He felt the same way about the fans.

I was on duty in the AP bureau in the Milwaukee Sentinel building on Monday, June 6, 1983, when a shocker of a phone call came in. I picked up, and although I can’t precisely remember, it almost certainly was Brewers’ p.r. director Tom “Sky” Skibosh on the line.

What he relayed was stunning: the Brewers had just traded Gorman Thomas to Cleveland.

I immediately typed a single sentence with that news and sent the bulletin immediately to the state newspaper wire. I was so flabbergasted and excited that I simultaneously sent the bulletin to the state broadcast wire, which was actually a mistake. In those days, the newspaper and broadcast wires had separate styles, and slightly different versions ran on each.

But no matter. The news could not wait. Gorman was gone, to of all teams my dear Indians.

The story was relayed to the national sports wire, and I imagine our sports writer fleshed out the details and added context in several writethrus after that initial bulletin.

After my shift was over, I went to a Kohl’s grocery story (the same Kohl’s that is now a big national retailer of clothing and more) and bought a pack of Donruss baseball cards. Inside was one of — can you guess? — Gorman Thomas.

I was staggered by the irony. At home that evening in our flat in the Bay View neighborhood, I watched the local news. The trade story was huge, fans were devastated and one of the stations interviewed a teary-eyed Thomas in a tavern.

Other players were involved in the trade, of course. The Brewers sent Jamie Easterly and Ernie Camacho to Cleveland, which sent Rick Manning and Rick Waits to Milwaukee. Truly, I don’t remember that — I had to look it up.

I also Googled Tom Skibosh and was saddened to learn that he died on Christmas Day three years ago.

When Thomas was traded, I likened it to the outrage that broke out in Cleveland in 1960 when the Indians swapped fan favorite Rocky Colavito for Detroit’s Harvey Kuenn. In another ironic twist, Kuenn was manager of the Brewers at the time of the Thomas trade.

Kuenn grew up in Milwaukee and was brought on as manager in June 1982 when the Brewers fired Bob Rodgers. On the day that happened, I picked up the phone and I distinctly remember Tom Skibosh telling me, “We just fired Buck Rodgers.”

I should note that years before email and the internet, many breaking news stories were delivered via telephone from p.r. directors to the AP. With its broad reach to hundreds of newspapers and broadcast stations, it was the quickest way to spread the news.

The homer-happy ’82-’83 Brewers were lovingly nicknamed “Harvey’s Wallbangers,” after Kuenn. In that second year, the Brewers finished in fifth place, and Kuenn was fired. He died in 1988.

Today, Thomas runs a barbecue stand at American Family Field (née Miller Park). He remains dear to the hearts of Brewers fans who watched him, at County Stadium, belt homers and strike out at an alarming pace that would put him in good company with today’s swing-and-miss sluggers.

Editor’s note: I thank Steve Myers, author of the entertaining Brewers Baseball and Things blog, for triggering the memories that prompted this post. He has a great tale of his own on landing a Gorman Thomas card.