Bill Caudill vs. the Mariners Bullpen Cart

You’ve probably seen this picture before. It pops up on Twitter and other internet places all the time. And every time it does people overwhelming respond with enthusiasm and calls to bring it back. It is not to be confused with the other nautical vehicle in the Kingdome during the 1980s, the USS Mariner, which lived beyond the outfield fence. This vehicle is called a tugboat in the newspapers (because when a mariner is in trouble, you send a tugboat), but it’s more accurately a fireboat. It has a Seattle Fire Department logo and relief pitchers were referred to as firemen.

Whatever it was, it was officially named the Seattle M’s Relief. It was designed before the 1982 season to cart pitchers from the bullpen to the mound. In the Kingdome the bullpens were right there in foul territory, so clearly pitchers needed help making the arduous odyssey. Given the reaction every time this picture surfaces, you’d think the Relief was a success. Instead, it was barely launched before it was taken out of the water. You see, Mariners pitchers HATED the poor little tug/fireboat and plotted its demise.

If you have even the faintest familiarity with the early 80s Mariners, you will not be at all surprised to hear that Bill Caudill instigated the relief corps’ fight against the Relief. Caudill is one of the great personalities in Mariners history. He earned the nickname “Inspector” after the opening road trip of the 1982 season. The team went 2-7 and he donned an Inspector Clouseau hat and began searching through the team bats, looking for the missing hits. Before too long, fans would send him magnifying glasses and the Kingdome organist would play the Pink Panther theme song when he came on in relief. He was still to earn the nickname “Cuffs”, set things on fire in the bullpen, and invent the Rally Cap among many, many, many other antics.

The 1982 Mariners opened at the Kingdome on Friday, April 16th. As part of the opening ceremonies, the plan was to introduce the fireboat to the crowd. The only problem? The keys mysteriously disappeared. The culprits? Caudill and the Ancient Mariner, himself, Gaylord Perry. Perry also objected to the fireboat and threatened to fine any reliever $100 who rode the boat to relieve him.

Before Floyd Bannister started the home opener, the relief pitchers had a chat with him. “We just told Banny before the game that we weren’t coming in to help him if he needed it.” Caudill said.1 Bannister took the warning to heart, and pitched out of several jams to throw a complete game and take the win.

The next night’s starter, Mike Moore, wasn’t as successful, going only 1.2 innings before Mariners manager Rene Lachemann pulled him. Larry Andersen was called in from the bullpen. This was supposed to be the Relief’s first transport. Instead, as depicted in the picture above and described by The Seattle Times:

Reliever Larry Andersen refused to wait for the tugboat to give him a ride into the game in the second inning. He left the bullpen before they got it out of its stall in the leftfield corner and never looked back as it chugged behind him all the way to the infield like a faithful puppy.2

Andersen was relieved in the sixth inning by Ed VandeBerg, who sprinted to the mound, leaving the tugboat behind him. When Mike Stanton came on in the seventh and Caudill entered in the eighth, the poor little boat didn’t bother making an attempt.

After the game the tugboat was dry docked, only to emerge for promotional appearances. But that doesn’t mean Caudill forgot about it. As related in an August 1982 Sports Illustrated article, Caudill and Andersen took the tug for a drive around the Kingdome parking lot, in full uniform, before a game one afternoon:

Seated on the bow, port and starboard, are Mariner relief pitchers Bill Caudill (pronounced “coddle”), 26, and Larry Andersen, 29. Since it’s a half hour before game time, the two are in uniform. Caudill is the one with the life ring around his neck that reads RELIEF and the double-billed Sherlock Holmes-style baseball cap on his head. Both are hold pennants and programs. “Get your World Series tickets here!” they yell. “Step right up! Buy a program! Find out if this is really Julio Cruz!”3

The Mariners weren’t the only team to try a bullpen cart. Many teams used them with more success in the 1970s. You may remember that Kansas City/Oakland Athletics owner Charles Finley had a mule that briefly served the same purpose. Because fashion is cyclical, in recent years a few teams embraced the 70s nostalgia and brought back the bullpen carts. While fans love the carts, pitchers haven’t been won over. Last month, the Washington Post investigated why Nationals pitchers won’t use the cart.

Turns out, pitchers are creatures of habit and don’t like having their routines disrupted. Even though they are generally weirdos, taking a ride in giant baseball cart, or a tugboat, is a weird too far.