If the world was full of Johnny Rays, its businesses would compete intensely but ethically and we would all get along.
For that’s how Chouteau, Okla., native Johnny Ray lived and competed in a wonderful baseball career. It took him from his junior college days in Oklahoma through his Razorbacks Hall of Hall of Honor/Southwest Conference Hall of Fame tenure under Arkansas coach Norm DeBriyn in 1978 and ’79 and his 1981-1990 Major League career for the Pittsburgh Pirates and California Angels and 1991-92 in Japan.
His productivity and prudence reflect Ray peacefully living on his earnings saved back home in Chouteau with wife Tammy and their two grown children in the vicinity.
That Ray excels so thoroughly and professionally exemplifies the ballplayer’s praise that former Pirates manager Jim Leyland bestowed upon him back in a 1986 interview when the Pirates were in St. Louis and DeBriyn has said about him since 1978.
“They don’t come any better than J-Ray,” states a typical DeBriyn assessment of his 1979 College World Series/All-SWC second baseman become close friend and hunting partner.
Nice to see the Southwest Conference Hall of Fame recognize that, too, assisted by the Arkansas Hall of Fame in Little Rock. It was the same day that Sam Pittman was introduced as new football coach.
“That was a conversation piece that day,” Ray recalled, laughing about the Hall of Fame gathering of former UA stars.
“Coach was there and Caroline (Norm’s wife),” Ray said.
For Ray that counted for everything.
“It was nice,” Ray said. “They did a nice job setting that up. We had a nice time.”
Looking back, does Ray marvel with surprise at both his collegiate career hitting .319 for his two Razorbacks seasons including a team-leading 47 RBI in 1979 and a Major League career batting a career .290 for 1,353 games and 5,188 at bats?
“Not really,” Ray replied. “I’m always my biggest critic. But I figured talent-wise I could compete. I never thought I was intimidated by the players I played with. Just go out there and do what teams do. Have fun and compete.”
Ray worked to get every edge he could including learning to switch-hit.
“I started doing that while I was in high school,” Ray said. “I was intrigued by it to see what it could do and I just stuck with it. I was a natural righty but I had more power from the left side. I didn’t even try to figure that out. I guess just from batting more on the left side because you see more right-handers than lefties. That’s why those quality lefty starters intrigue most organizations.”
Ray played with some great ones at Arkansas. Tim Lollar off the 1978 Razorbacks and Kevin McReynolds and Ronn Reynolds off the 1979 Razorbacks reached the big leagues.
But the 1978 and 1979 teams were above their stars. The 1978 team was just one win away from making NCAA Regionals for what then would have been the second time in school history. Then, in 1979, it went all the way to national runner-up in a 2-1 championship game loss to California State-Fullerton at the College World Series.
Characters with character would be an apt description of the 1979 bunch, a team that by its repeated reunions seems as close now as in their playing days.
“We had some characters but they could play,” Ray said. “You definitely had to compete against us because if you didn’t you definitely were going to be on the short end of the stick.”
Ray’s double-play partner, Larry “Cob” Wallace, played a flawless shortstop without hearing a word from his second baseman. Wallace was deaf, you see.
“Everyone was kind of amazed because Larry Wallace couldn’t hear,” Ray said. “But I never looked at Larry as anything other than a teammate. We could communicate. People would ask how do you communicate with a guy who doesn’t hear? But you know Larry. He communicated like it wasn’t anything. People were amazed but I didn’t think a thing about it. He was a very smart ballplayer. Everybody’s got talent but it’s intelligence that gives you the edge trying to figure out things. I was surprised he didn’t get a shot at pro ball.”
McReynolds, still hunting and fishing with Ray whenever they can, excelled as a natural not fueled by outward intensity.
“Kevin could do most anything if he wanted,” Ray said, laughing, recalling McReynolds’ 1979 freshman season as Arkansas’ center fielder while Ray was a senior.
“It was just getting him to want to do it. I don’t think he took it serious enough until later in his career when he had to work at it a little bit. For sure he had the most athletic ability. The year he got drafted (by the San Diego Padres), Pittsburgh had the first pick and asked me about him. I think he would have been the first player taken until he hurt his knee (late during his 1981 Razorbacks season). Pittsburgh was serious about him but instead they took some kid that I don’t think ever made it.”
Ray and McReynolds not only bonded as teammates but were bonded by their agent, Arkansas born and bred and Chicago-based Tom Selakovich, who contracted to represent Lollar upon Tim being drafted in 1978 by the New York Yankees.
Selakovich represented and still represents them well although their 1970s and 1980s salaries appear chicken feed by today’s Major League baseball pay scale.
“My peak was like $2 million,” Ray said. “I guess that’s like the minimum now. Can you imagine making like $35 million a year?”
And have it guaranteed?
Well, what Selakovich did and how well Ray played and how wisely he lives have more than sufficed.
“I invested well and my agent did a good job and I was able to live on my own terms and stay close to home and see my grandbabies,” Ray said.
He’s not only lived wisely but generously. Together, Selakovich, Lollar, McReynolds and Ray did the pro agent/players unprecedented in 1985. They donated the money to light the then-daytime only George Cole Field. Under the new lights, the Hogs would host the 1985 SWC Tournament that they won before winning the Tallahassee Regional and advancing to the second of DeBriyn’s four College World Series appearances.
“You always liked Coach and how he treated us,” Ray said. “So we enjoyed doing it. These players today with the money they’re making now, they ought to give something back to the university.”
Of course under Dave Van Horn, the UA has seen fit to give back plenty in facility improvements at Baum-Walker Stadium and the Fowler Indoor practice center. It’s all a far cry from when the Razorbacks tried to take rainy day batting practice in cages inside the Razorback Stadium football workout area while football coach Lou Holtz scowled.
“Dave has done a great job,” Ray said. “They’ve got great facilities. You can’t help but get good players to work with. When we took indoor batting practice we had to do it with the football team. Lou Holtz didn’t care for us being around in there, needless to say.”
Those he played for (DeBriyn, Leyland and the late Chuck Tanner at Pittsburgh and Cookie Rojas with the Angels) had no complaints.
Nice guy Norm could be Storming Norman tough on his players when needed but storming wasn’t required with Ray.
“I didn’t get his wrath at all,” Ray sad. “He was dedicated to getting the team to play well and sometimes he’d voice his opinion quite loudly. We had a couple of high school All-Americans that thought they could skip his (physical education) class. He had them running sprints on the football field early morning with him out there screaming at them.”
Black or white, star or benchwarmer, Ray recalled DeBriyn treating players the way circumstances required they should be treated.
“That’s one thing I always appreciated about Coach,” Ray said.
Ray said he loved his 10 years in the Majors but said he was ready for it to end when his last Angels contract expired and then was surprised to play two more years in Japan.
“They came up to my agent asking me to play,” Ray said. “I just had my last year at California and I really didn’t think they would respond but Japan made a max offer and it wasn’t a couple of days we came back and we took it.”
How was it?
“It’s probably A-ball level as far as competition but I had a good time the two years I was over there,” Ray said. “It’s a very clean country and they treat the players well. Sumo wrestling and baseball are their biggest sports. My family loved it over there and I did, too. But two years was the max. I was ready to come home.”
It is a long way from Chouteau.
“It’s a long way from anywhere,” Ray said.
The phone briefly fell silent explaining Ray’s love of home.
“Excuse me,” he said. “But I just caught a fish. There’s a creek near where I live.”
Wherever he may roam, seems he’s always hooked on home.