Mudcat Grant helped strengthen the game on, off the field

Over the latter stages of his life, Hall of Famer Buck O’Neil became well known as one of the game’s great ambassadors, from his groundbreaking commentary on Ken Burns’ 1994 documentary, Baseball, to his work with the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum and his inspirational talks with youngsters and adults across the land.

Another man, far less famous, also achieved a niche as one of baseball’s unofficial ambassadors. A star on the field, he followed his career by impacting many of the people he encountered at schools, at the ballpark, and even in Cooperstown. 

One cannot tell the full story of Black baseball without telling the story of Jim “Mudcat” Grant. In some ways, Grant’s demeanor and attitude mirrored O’Neil. Both were regarded as fine players – and better men. As with O’Neil, much of Grant’s public recognition would come in his later years, long after he retired as a player.

In 1954, a young Jim Grant graduated from his high school, the Moore Academy, in Dade City, Fla. By that time the Negro Leagues, where O’Neil spent all of his playing and managing career, had begun to fade, but Grant found interest from an American League team. Prior to the start of the 1954 season, he signed his first contract with the Cleveland Indians’ organization.  

Grant began a four-year climb through the Indians’ minor league system. It was during his minor league tenure that he picked up the nickname of “Mudcat” under erroneous circumstances. One of his teammates, believing for some reason that Grant was from Mississippi, decided to start calling him Mudcat, in deference to Mississippi being known as the “Mudcat State.” Given that, one of Cleveland’s minor league coaches, future Hall of Famer Red Ruffing, started calling Grant “Mudcat,” as well. Initially, Grant tried to correct the situation and explain that “Mudcat” was not his preferred name, but the nickname stuck. And eventually, Grant came to embrace his alter-ego.

In 1957, Grant moved up to the Triple-A San Diego Padres, the Indians’ affiliate in the Pacific Coast League. Pitching in a hitter’s league, Grant dominated, winning 18 of 25 decisions while spinning an ERA of 2.32. The Padres’ general manager, future Hall of Famer Ralph Kiner, took note of Grant’s talent – and his willingness to learn. “I’ve never seen a young pitcher come along as fast as he has,” said an admiring Kiner. “He wants to learn and is willing to take advice.”

Grant performed another important service for Oakland. One of his bullpen mates was a young right-hander named Rollie Fingers, who had struggled as a starter before moving to a relief role. Grant worked with Fingers, giving the 23-year-old advice on how to prepare to enter a game, including instructions on warming up properly. Grant’s counsel helped Fingers make the transition to relief pitching, setting the stage for him to become Oakland’s No. 1 reliever and a Hall of Famer.

To the surprise of many, Grant did not last the 1970 season in Oakland. In mid-September, the A’s traded Grant to the Pittsburgh Pirates for a young outfield prospect, Ángel Mangual. The move stunned the Oakland beat writers, who believed that A’s owner Charlie Finley had become angry with Grant for making a facetious remark on the radio about ownership “interfering” with manager John McNamara. It was nothing more than an inconsequential and humorous jab, but Finley took it seriously. Serving as his own general manager, Finley orchestrated the trade that sent Grant to Pittsburgh.

Grant fit in well with the Pirates, a racially-integrated team that was headed toward a berth in the postseason. The Pirates soon clinched the National League East, as Grant pitched well down the stretch. He remained effective for the Bucs in 1971, but the team’s deep bullpen eventually made him expendable. In early August, the Pirates sold Grant’s contract, sending him back to Oakland, where Finley had apparently forgiven Grant for his 1970 “transgression.”

Providing the A’s with another quality pitcher at the back end of their bullpen, Grant put up an ERA of 1.98 ERA. While he had missed out on a division title with the Pirates, he was now headed to the postseason with the A’s, who won the American League West before losing the ALCS to the powerhouse Baltimore Orioles.

Although Grant appeared to have plenty left in his 36-year-old tank, he was once again dismissed by Finley. After the season, Finley released Grant, not because of his pitching, but simply because he didn’t want to give him the kind of sizeable contract a veteran pitcher would command.

Rather shockingly, no other team would give Grant a major league contract for 1972. So he settled for a non-roster invitation from his first organization, the Indians, but did not make the cut. The Indians offered him a minor league deal to pitch at Triple-A Portland, but Grant rejected the move. He eventually signed with the minor league Iowa Oaks, in the hope that some big league team would come calling. That never happened, motivating Mudcat to retire. He left the game with a record of 145 wins and an ERA of 3.63 over 14 seasons.

After his playing days, Grant continued to pursue some of his other interests while also maintaining his connection to the game. As the longtime front man for a group called “Mudcat and the Kittens,” he often sang at nightclubs around the country. He also ventured into broadcasting, first with the Indians and then the A’s.

In the 1980s, Grant branched out into community service. He began operating a nationwide program called “Slug-Out Illiteracy, Slug-Out Drugs,” in which he made public speaking appearances and talked about the value of education while stressing the importance of avoiding drugs. Grant also tried to help former players struggling with either drug problems, financial concerns, or medical issues, as part of his work with the MLB Players Alumni Association.

One of the players Grant tried to help was retired slugger Leon Wagner, who had struggled in his post-playing days, eventually becoming destitute and homeless. Mudcat set Wagner up with jobs in fantasy camps and even arranged apartments for him to live in, but Wagner ultimately resisted the help and returned to a life of addiction before dying from drug abuse in 2004.

In his later years, Grant continued to work hard on issues that mattered to him.

One of them was the decline of Black participation in baseball in the 1990s and 2000s. In February of 2004, Grant and his former Pirates teammate, Al Oliver, came to the Hall of Fame to participate in a special program centered on Black History Month. Grant and Oliver interacted wonderfully with fans in the Museum’s Bullpen Theater, giving important insight into baseball’s struggle to connect with Black youth, while also entertaining fans with stories from their playing days.

Grant also became involved with a 2006 book project called The Black Aces. Written with veteran author Tom Sabellico, the book details the Black pitchers who have won 20 or more games in a single season. The publication of the book prompted President George W. Bush to invite Grant and other members of the “Black Aces” to the White House for a 2007 ceremony celebrating Black History Month.

In his last few years, Grant suffered from declining health, which limited his ability to travel and spread the word about the history of Black baseball. In June of 2021, Grant passed away at the age of 85.

There’s no doubt that Grant’s death left a void in the game, but there’s also little doubt that he contributed forcefully to an appreciation of the accomplishments of Black players, both for older fans and youngsters just beginning to experience the game. It’s part of a legacy that included a fine pitching career and a selfless desire to help others – a legacy for which Jim “Mudcat” Grant deserves to be long remembered.

Bruce Markusen is the manager of digital and outreach learning at the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum