recognized in him a coming baseball star. "Dolly wanted me to be another Hank Greenberg," Rogovin said. "I had a strong arm, but I could never hit like Greenberg. The only thing we have in common is we're both Jewish." But Stark's word carried weight, and on the strength of that word, Rogovin was accepted by the Jersey City Giants. He was given a chance to win an outfield job, failed and was sold to Chattanooga of the Southern Association, where he was a third baseman on the club's roster. It was 1945, and Rogovin began to realize that time was running out on him. He was helped again, this time by a former pitcher for Cincinnati, Red Lucas, who was a coach for Nashville and saw that the powerful young man had a tremendous arm. "You're wasting your time at third," Lucas informed him. "You can be a good pitcher." Rogovin, in turn, thought that perhaps pitching would be easier. "I thought all you had to do was throw the ball hard," he said.

Toward the end of the 1945 season, he was given a chance to pitch. In the second game of a double-header with Birmingham, Rogovin pitched a four-hit shutout, and was convinced that he had been working at the wrong positions all his life. From that point forward, he did nothing but pitch. In 1946, he worked for Pensacola, where he won eight games and lost five. His seasoning had begun. Then, in 1947, he met the man who, more than anyone else, was responsible for his successful career - Paul Richards, a former major league catcher and later a big league manager, who knew pitching well and what made a good pitcher. Rogovin has been free in crediting Richards with his effectiveness. "For the first time since I started playing ball," Rogovin said, "I began to learn what it actually meant to be a pitcher. And in order to learn, I had to forget