Former San Francisco Giants pitcher Bill Faul who pitched for three different clubs including the Giants from 1962-1970 is the subject of Tony the Hayes feature, He was a Giant? (photo from 1971 Topps baseball)

Bill Faul – RHP – 1970 – # 38

He Was a Giant?

Bill Faul was not an All-Star pitcher. All-Star eccentric? Well, now you’re in the ballpark.

Baseball adores an intriguing character and for a short time Faul was among the sport’s most savory. The Cincinnati native was a professional pitcher for more than a decade, but his fastball, slider or change up were rarely discussed.

The chatter surrounding Faul almost always had to do with his multitude of personal quirks.

Chief among Faul’s idiosyncrasies – but far from limited to – was the right-handler’s infatuation with self-hypnosis. Faul claimed he regularly induced himself into hypnotic trances before ball games to increase his confidence and focus.

“Most people think I’m crazy. But they don’t understand, that’s all. Sure I hypnotize myself what’s wrong with that?” asked Faul who claimed a degree in hypnosis from something called the Scientific Suggestion Center of California. “I lie down, put myself in a trance and keep telling myself to keep the ball low, throw hard and don’t get tired. “

Faul was a Giant for only a spell, but there is little evidence to suggest that he ever played for the Orange & Black while under a spell.

Or at least one that worked very well.

As a member of the Giants, Faul didn’t exactly hyptonize opposing batters. In his brief seven game trip with San Francisco, hitter’s swatted a laser-focused .357 off the 30-year-old veteran. After seven games, Faul was sent back to Triple-A Phoenix – his ERA frozen in suspended animation at 7.45.

Faul would never again appear in another major league game.

Why Was He a Giant?

A one-time starting pitcher for the Cubs and Tigers, Faul – who pitched with an old fashioned wind-mill windup – had been languishing in the minors for four seasons before the Giants brought him back to the Show in May of 1970.

A space was vacated on San Francisco’s roster when right -handed relief specialist Don McMahon was forced to “sit out” a few games due to hemorrhoid surgery.

Seriously. They put that in the paper. The team couldn’t even come up with a phantom injury for the ignominious McMahon.

Before & After

At one point in his career, Faul was one of the top pitching prospects in baseball. A University of Cincinnati legend, Faul was featured on the cover of the official annual collegiate baseball guide in 1962. In one game, Faul struck out 24 batters, a Cincinnati school record. He holds other Bearcat records, including career strikeouts (296), and single season ERA (0.80).

After posting a 18-5, 1.43 record in three college seasons, Faul was signed by Detroit to a bonus contract in ‘62.

Talk of Faul’s mind-control tactics began early on in his professional career. Initially, the Detroit brass was enthusiastically on board with Faul’s far-out beliefs.

“If Faul keeps up with his self-hypnosis. I’ll let him give the whole staff a few pointers,” a giddy Tigers manager Bob Sheffing said after his young charge dominated Washington and Boston in his first two big league starts in 1963.

But by 1964, when Faul’s pitching production dipped and the kinks in his unorthodox persona increased – Tigers management became alarmed.

They wondered aloud if their nonconformist pitching prospect had gone off the deep end.

During that time frame, Faul also became a enthusiastic practitioner of karate and started studies to become a minister in the Universal Christian Church.

More weirder was Faul’s habit of swallowing live frogs. Yep. He claimed it game him more “hop” on his fastball.

Weirder yet, Faul also reportedly had a fetish of biting the heads off live parakeets. No performance benefits were reported for that stunt however .

“You know that kid is something of a kook. ,” said a bewildered Chuck Dressen, the Tigers 1964 skipper. “He certainly has a major league arm. But whether or not he thinks or acts like a major leaguer is a different story.”

After Faul was bombed for six runs in the Tigers final game of the 1964 campaign, he was dealt to the Cubs.

Despite the blowback he received in Motown, Faul double downed on his advocacy of mind-control when he blew into the Windy City.

“Hypnosis cannot bring out talent in a player that has no talent. People just don’t understand it. They think it’s some kind of witchcraft,” Faul explained when he arrived at the Friendly Confines. “There’s nothing bewildering about it. When you’re under Hypnosis you’re really vividly alive. “

Faul thrived for awhile in the less uptight environment of Chicago. Wearing uniform number “13,” Faul hurled three shutouts for the Cubs in 1965 and remarkably, the team’s defense turned three triple plays when Faul was pitching.

A north side favorite, Faul brought color and publicity to the dismally horrible 90-loss 1965 Cubs.

The uninhibited hurler was a dream come true to the sporting press. The copy hungry scribes often portrayed the avuncular Faul as a cross between a baseball beatnik and a member of the Addams Family.

“Faul comes on like Bela Lugosi in a vampire role. Dark-eyed intense and about as animated as a sesame seed,” syndicated reporter Tom Tiede wrote in a profile. “He doesn’t look at you but through you. Any minute you expect him to bite your neck.”

Faul was primed for a breakout season in 1966, but then the Cubs hired the taciturn manager Leo Durocher. Durocher, who’s battle cry was “Nice Guys Finish Last” apparently felt the same about free-spirits. The pair were like oil and water. “The Lip” unceremoniously deep-sixed Faul to the minors in mid-1966 after the pitcher questioned the Hall of Fame manager’s decision making.

Faul would remain beating the bushes until the Giants called 45 months later.

He Never Had a Bobblehead Day. But…

Not surprisingly, Faul took part in a couple of truly uncommon games in his brief stay with the Giants.

In his initial Candlestick Park appearance (5/23/70), Faul allowed three of a combined 44 hits in a chaotic Saturday afternoon matchup with the expansion Padres. When the dust had settled, San Diego limped away from the five hour and 30 minutes long slug fest with a 15-inning, 17-16 win and the Giants announced they were changing managers.

Three days later with Clyde King now departed from the manager’s chair, the Giants met the Dodgers for the first time with Charlie Fox at the helm – it did not go well.

Los Angeles ransacked San Francisco 19-3. The 19 plate scrapers were the most ever surrendered by the Orange & Black during their west coast era.

Faul entered the game to start the sixth inning with the Dodgers up 9-1 and did not survive the frame – allowing four runs (three earned). Faul was greeted into the game by opposing pitcher Claude Osteen, who promptly ripped a double. Osteen by the way went the distance for Los Angeles and batted 4-for-5 (home run, double and two singles) with four RBI in the embarrassing poll axing (5/26/70).

Giant Footprint

In modern baseball, creative approaches to the sport are not only acceptable, but in some cases celebrated. Hunter Pence and Barry Zito scored two of the most lucrative contracts in Giants history while eating kale and viewing the game and life through kaleidoscope eyes.

The Giants currently have a staff psychologist and a “mental-skills” coach.

But during Faul’s era, the nail that stuck out in baseball was promptly hammered down.

Even though he would have been in step with the Bay Area’s counter-culture movement at the time, by the time Faul got to San Francisco in 1970 he was no longer publicly discussing “auto hypnotic twilights” or stopping at the pet store for pre-game snacks.

After spending the previous three and a half seasons pitching in minor league limbo, Faul believed – and probably rightfully so – that his free-form chitchat sessions and alternative behavior traits had led to being blackballed from the major leagues.

“Nobody wanted the bad publicity I kept getting. They kept saying I was a bad reflection on their club. I hurt their image,” said Faul in 1971, during the waning days of his pro career. “The Giants said that if they saw anything more in the papers about the Hypnosis stuff I’d be in bad trouble.”