Gaylord Perry and the Grease Ball

Gaylord Perry was a Hall of Fame pitcher who spent 22 seasons in the major leagues, won 314 games, and earned two Cy Young Awards. He was also, by virtually everyone's estimation including his own, a cheat.

Perry's signature was the spitball, or more accurately, the greaseball. He loaded baseballs with Vaseline, K-Y Jelly, baby oil, sunscreen, and whatever else he could find. He applied substances to his cap, his neck, his hair, his belt, his glove, and the seams of his uniform. Before every pitch, he touched four or five different spots on his body, never the same sequence twice, creating what hitters described as a maddening guessing game. Was the ball loaded? Was it clean? You couldn't tell until it got to the plate, and by then it was too late.

In 1974, while still an active player, Perry published an autobiography called Me and the Spitter. In it, he described in detail how he doctored baseballs and how he deceived umpires. The book was brazen and unapologetic. It also made it harder for umpires to ignore the issue, though enforcement remained spotty for years.

Despite the constant accusations and his own written confession, Perry was ejected for doctoring a baseball exactly once in his entire career. On August 23, 1982, pitching for the Seattle Mariners against the Boston Red Sox, umpire Dave Phillips finally caught him with a greasy ball. Perry was ejected and suspended for 10 days. He was 43 years old and in his 21st season. He had been getting away with it since approximately 1964.

Perry's defense was always the same. He said the accusation itself was the weapon. Even when he threw a clean pitch, hitters believed it was loaded, and the belief affected their timing. "I'd always have (hitters) looking at me, and not at the ball," he once said. The decoy was as effective as the substance.

After retiring in 1983 with a career record of 314-265 and a 3.11 ERA, Perry was elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1991. The voters apparently decided that 22 years of cheating did not disqualify a man from the highest honor the sport can bestow. His plaque in Cooperstown does not mention the spitball.