That night’s game at Arlington Stadium became such a focal point of local attention that the first pitch was delayed by 15 minutes, allowing more fans to free themselves from the massive logjam of traffic outside of the ballpark. A capacity crowd of 35,698 eventually made its way into the ballpark. Perhaps rattled by the late start of the game and frazzled by his own nervousness, the teenaged Clyde walked the first two batters he faced—infielder Jerry Terrell and future Hall of Famer Rod Carew—before settling down to strike out the side. Clyde went on to pitch a respectable five innings, walking a total of seven Twins, but struck out eight batters while allowing two earned runs and only one hit.

All in all, it was a good debut for the high school rookie. Still, some believed that the Rangers would start Clyde only one or two more times and then send him to the minor leagues to learn the craft of pitching. But Short had other plans. He insisted that Clyde remain with the Rangers for the balance of the season. Unfortunately, Clyde struggled to match his celebrated debut performance, posting an ERA of 5.01 and winning only four of 12 decisions with the lowly Rangers.

Clyde’s problems only worsened when Herzog was fired and replaced by Billy Martin late that season. Martin didn’t like the left-hander, in part because he didn’t care much for rookie pitchers, most of whom he simply didn’t trust.

In 1974, Martin didn’t appreciate the fact that Clyde would lose nine straight decisions after starting the season at 3-and-0. Having lost confidence in his would-be ace, Martin didn’t pitch Clyde for 17 consecutive days that September.

The late Art Fowler, a coach for Martin at virtually every one of his managerial stops, became Clyde’s second pitching coach in Texas. A number of years ago, Fowler appeared on ESPN’s Outside The Lines program to discuss Clyde’s saga. Fowler supported Martin’s general evaluation of Clyde, claiming that the youngster was vastly overrated, unable to throw his fastball much harder than in the mid-eighties. Fowler also questioned the quality of Clyde’s competition in high school, kiddingly suggesting that the left-hander had piled up an impressive set of statistics pitching against “girls.”

By now, arm problems had started to set in. Clyde missed most of the 1976 season with a bad shoulder. He returned in 1977, but was ineffective. The Rangers had seen enough. During Spring Training in 1978, the Rangers trade Clyde and veteran slugger Willie Horton to the Indians for outfielder John Lowenstein and pitcher Tom Buskey. Only five years after being the most sought after young talent in the land, Clyde was now an ex-Ranger.

The Indians made Clyde one of their starters and watched him pitch credibly, but without the dominating fastball of his Rangers days. He struck out only 83 batters in 153 games. He was effective at times, but no longer impressive or intimidating.

By the time that his 1980 Topps card hit the stores, Clyde’s major league career had ended. In January of 1980, the Indians had already traded him back to Texas, but he failed to make the Opening Day roster and was released. The Houston Astros signed him in April and sent him out to Triple-A ball, but he never made it back to the big leagues. Clyde finished out his career in 1981, done at the age of 26.

All these years later, Clyde does his best to avoid bitterness about his handling. Buoyed by his deeply held religious beliefs, he has found some success as a coach and manager for a select baseball team in the Houston area, where he has resided ever since leaving Organized Baseball. He also takes care of his father, whose health has suffered in recent years.

Clyde tries not to dwell what might have been. But as baseball fans, that is the question that we naturally ponder when we think of a young left-handed phenom named David Clyde.