MLB

Memories mean more for 1990 Reds as years roll on

Paul Daugherty
pdaugherty@enquirer.com

Norm Charlton is the fishing boat captain Jack Armstrong always wanted to be. The nastiest of the Nasty Boys – and ironically, the least known – spends his days running charters out of Rockport, Texas, just north of Corpus Christi for, he says, "grandfathers, taking their grandchildren fishing for the first time.''

Norm Charlton, one of the 1990 World Champion Cincinnati Reds "Nasty Boys" at the 2015 Opening Day Parade.

It's not exactly ramrodding Mike Scioscia at the plate in June of 1990, but it is who Norm Charlton is these days, 25 years removed.

Time is a thief, and his work improves as we age. Time rounds edges like water rounds rock. Old Nasty Boys are not immune. Entitlement yields to contentment. Their senses of gratitude age nicely.

"That season means more as the days, months and years go on,'' Charlton said.

The 1990 Wire-to-Wire Reds are here for the weekend, more than 30 of them. Early Friday evening, they walked one-by-one into the Handlebar, the new restaurant/watering hole at GABP, as if they were emerging from the corn field. Bar Of Dreams.

Paul O'Neill, 52 going on 30, is an empty-nester.

Joe Oliver, 49, had both knees replaced over the winter.

Barry Larkin won't be 51 on Tuesday. He will be 29, for the 22nd time.

Glenn Braggs is 52 going on Mr. Universe. He is cut like an engagement ring. Still.

Randy Myers, 52, has dyed his hair light blond. Why? Why not?

Chris Sabo, 53, still has the flat-top and the money, the ring and everything. "That's the first time I've heard that in 25 years,'' he said to me. He was joking. I think. With Spuds, you never could tell.

I asked him what his best memory was of the '90 season. "Only two weeks of spring training,'' he said, due to a lockout. "That was awesome.'' Only Sabo.

"I feel like I'm 25 and 50 at the same time,'' said Hal Morris. When asked if he ever thought about age 50 when he was 25, Morris said, "I didn't think about getting to 30.'' As Oliver explained, "tomorrow doesn't even really exist. You're worried about right then and right now. You really believe you're going to be here forever."

Allow Charlton to provide perspective. "The people that remember us are old people,'' he said. "We're old people.''

Dibble and Myers got most of the Nasty headlines. Dibble threw 100 miles an hour and could be deliberately wild. He wasn't wrapped too tightly. Myers kept defused ordnance and toy Army men in his clubhouse cubicle. Neither was as nasty as Norm, the triple-major from Rice University.

Said Oliver, the catcher, "Norm's persona was genuine. There wasn't anything fabricated. I've talked to lots of former players who say Norm was the guy they didn't want to face. Norm would hit you in a heartbeat. He just didn't care.''

Dibble created his persona. He was from a small, idyllic place in Connecticut called Southington (pronounced "SUTH-ington''), a town where they have an Apple Harvest Festival. That's nasty? Myers used his army stuff to give himself confidence. Closing games is a little about convincing yourself you really are a bad man. Myers did that with ammo boxes from the surplus store.

Charlton train-wrecked Scioscia. It wasn't the biggest play of the 1990 season – Davis' first-inning, Game 1 homer off Oakland's Dave Stewart retired that trophy – but it was No. 1 in defining the team's personality. "Me running over Scioscia kinda typifies the team we had,'' Charlton said. "We didn't play dirty, but we got dirty. We left it on the field.''

Charlton doesn't mind talking about bowling over the Los Angeles Dodgers catcher, but he will remind you he did other things. "I had a three-hit shutout when I was shoved into the rotation. I had a relief appearance when I struck out 10 in three and two-thirds'' innings, he said. "I was part of the Nasty Boys. But everybody knows about the Scioscia deal.''

Including Oliver, who says he has a photographic memory for all things baseball, but can never find his car keys:

"Two nights before, Scioscia had blocked Eric Davis off plate. (Umpire) Terry Tata had called him safe, then reversed his call, because (Scioscia) was sitting on the plate, and there was no way to get to it. Norm said then, 'If I ever get a chance, I'm gonna lay him out.' Norm wasn't worried about protecting himself. He wanted to win the game.''

We're talking about a 27-year-old in the prime of his career, risking his shoulder on a play at the plate. How many pitchers would do that today? "We didn't take many prisoners,'' Charlton said.

Now, he fishes the shallow waters of the Gulf of Mexico. Times change. Memories are constant. I asked him if he ever had Dibble and Myers on the boat. They get together occasionally these days, often on the card-show circuit.

"Rob has talked about coming down 100 times. Just hasn't been able to do it,'' Charlton said. "Randy has talked about coming down 100 times. I just haven't invited him.''