Dick Allen was born on Sunday, March 8, 1942, in Wampum, Pennsylvania. Allen was 21 years old when he broke into the big leagues on September 3, 1963, with the Philadelphia Phillies. His biographical data, year-by-year hitting stats, fielding stats, pitching stats (where applicable), career totals, uniform numbers, salary data and miscellaneous items-of-interest are presented by Baseball Almanac on this comprehensive Dick Allen baseball stats page.
Richie 'Dick' Allen Autograph on a 1964 Topps Baseball Card (#243 | Checklist )
Dick Allen Pitching Stats
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Dick Allen Hitting Stats
Dick Allen Fielding Stats
|1972 White Sox||1B||143||139||3,604||1,308||9.1||1,301||1,234||67||7||94||n/a||n/a||n/a||.995||9.75|
|1972 White Sox||3B||2||2||48||3||1.5||3||1||2||0||0||n/a||n/a||n/a||1.000||1.69|
|1973 White Sox||1B||67||67||1,662||644||9.6||640||597||43||4||55||n/a||n/a||n/a||.994||10.40|
|1973 White Sox||2B||2||0||33||7||3.5||7||4||3||0||0||n/a||n/a||n/a||1.000||5.73|
|1974 White Sox||1B||125||121||3,009||1,062||8.5||1,047||998||49||15||112||n/a||n/a||n/a||.986||9.39|
|1974 White Sox||2B||1||0||3||2||2.0||1||0||1||1||0||n/a||n/a||n/a||.500||9.00|
Dick Allen Miscellaneous Stats
|Baserunning Statistics||Other Positions||Common Hitting Ratios||Common Pitching Ratios|
|1972 White Sox||19||8||.704||7||0||n/a||13.7||4.0||4.5||-||-||-|
|1973 White Sox||7||2||.778||4||0||1||15.6||4.9||6.1||-||-||-|
|1974 White Sox||7||1||.875||6||0||1||14.4||5.2||5.3||-||-||-|
Dick Allen Miscellaneous Items of Interest
|Team [Click for Roster]||Uniform Numbers||Salary||All-Star||World Series|
|1963 Philadelphia Phillies||32||$12,250.00||-||-|
|1964 Philadelphia Phillies||15||$15,000.00||-||-|
|1965 Philadelphia Phillies||15||$20,000.00||Stats||-|
|1966 Philadelphia Phillies||15||$45,300.00||Stats||-|
|1967 Philadelphia Phillies||15||$50,000.00||Stats||-|
|1968 Philadelphia Phillies||15||$65,000.00||-||-|
|1969 Philadelphia Phillies||15||$70,000.00||-||-|
|1970 St. Louis Cardinals||15||$85,000.00||Stats||-|
|1971 Los Angeles Dodgers||15||$125,000.00||-||-|
|1972 Chicago White Sox||15||$140,000.00||Stats||-|
|1973 Chicago White Sox||15||$200,000.00||Stats||-|
|1974 Chicago White Sox||15||$200,000.00||Stats||-|
|1975 Philadelphia Phillies||15||$225,000.00||-||-|
|1976 Philadelphia Phillies||15||$145,000.00||-||-|
|1977 Oakland Athletics||60||$100,000.00||-||-|
|Dick Allen Stats by Baseball Almanac|
Did you know that baseball historian Bill Jenkinson in The Year Babe Ruth Hit 104 Home Runs ranked Allen with Jimmie Foxx and Mickey Mantle , and just a notch below Babe Ruth , as the four top long distance sluggers ever to wield a baseball bat? A segment of MLB Network's Prime 9, aired February 7, 2011, concurred with Jenkinson's findings. On that same broadcast, Willie Mays stated that Allen hit a ball harder than any player he had ever seen. Dick Allen, like Babe Ruth , hit with a rather heavy bat. Allen's 40-ouncer bucked the Ted Williams -inspired trend of using a light bat for increased bat speed. Dick Allen combined massive strength and body torque to produce bat speed and drive the ball. Eighteen of his home runs actually cleared Connie Mack Stadium's 65-foot-high left field Grandstand! Twice Dick Allen cleared that park's 65-foot-high right center field scoreboard: a feat considered virtually impossible for a right-handed hitter. Allen hit perhaps his most memorable Philadelphia homerun off of the Cardinal's Ray Washburn in 1965 when he cleared Connie Mack Stadium's left center field roof Coke sign. That homerun, an estimated 529-footer, inspired Willie Stargell to say: "Now I know why they (the Phillies fans) boo Richie all the time. When he hits a home run, there's no souvenir."
Dick Allen Home Run | 1967 All-Star Game ( Box Score ) | MLB Advanced Media, L.P.
Dick Allen was a great hitter - seven times he was top three in slugging average (three times he led the league ), six seasons he hit at least .300, twice he was a home run champion , twice the runner-up. However, former player turned mega-scout Jack Ogden once said of him, "I scouted 90,000 players in my lifetime and Allen was the greatest I ever saw. It's too bad he had so many difficulties." Those difficulties covered every facet of the game, on the field, off the field, and Allen simply spoke his mind, combatted racism, and bucked organizational hierarchy:
Dick Allen, in July 1965, got into an infamous fistfight with fellow Phillie Frank Thomas . According to two teammates who witnessed the fight, Thomas swung a bat at Allen, hitting him in the shoulder. Johnny Callison said, " Thomas Pat Corrales confirmed that Thomas hit Allen with a bat and added that Thomas was a "bully" known for making racially divisive remarks. Allen and his teammates were not permitted to give their side of the story under threat of a heavy fine. The Phillies released Thomas the next day. That made the fans and local sports writers not only see Allen as costing a white player his job, but freed Thomas to give his version of the fight.
Dick Allen is known to tax law students as the petitioner in the famous case about his signing bonus, Allen v. Commissioner, 50 T.C. 466 (1968). After receiving a $70,000 bonus from the Philadelphia Phillies, he gave $40,000 to his mother. Allen attempted to avoid paying income tax on the $40,000. The court held he was both responsible for the taxes and not able to make a trade or business deduction for the amount.
Dick Allen was rated by baseball historian Bill James (The New Bill James Historical Baseball Abstract, Free Press Publishers, 2001, Page 438) as the second-most controversial player in baseball history, behind Rogers Hornsby .
Dick Allen on Sports Illustrated (June 12, 1972 | Volume 36, Issue 24)
Sports Illustrated put Dick Allen on the cover in 1972 (image seen above) and he appears in more than 40 articles. Two insightful short articles appear below:
Dick Allen, Baseball Bad Boy (Sports Illustrated, Kelley King, July 19, 1999, Page 25)
One habit Dick Allenthe chain-smoking, hard-drinking, horseplaying, perpetually late bad boy of the 1960scan't seem to break is baseball. At 57, long after a 15-year big league career during which he changed teams five times and retired twice, Allen is back as a roving minor league instructor with the Philadelphia Phillies, the team he signed with in 1960 and spent the next decade trying to escape. Of his new job with the Phillies, the Wampum, Pa., native laughs and, paraphrasing a state slogan, says, "I think I've finally found a friend in Pennsylvania."
Thirty years ago Dick Allen was not enamored of the City of Brotherly Love. His Edwardian suits and luxuriant Afro didn't fit in with white, working-class Phillies fans, and the press kept a tally of his every misstep. The fans booed him mercilessly, called him the n word (which upset him) and Richie (which infuriated him), and threw loose change and fried-chicken bones at him. Allen, who protested passively by wearing a batting helmet in the field, had learned early in his career, as the first black with the Phillies' Little Rock affiliate, that fans can also be your enemies.
The best weapon Allen had against his critics was a 42-ounce bat, with which he smacked Ruthian homers. In 1964 Allen won the National League Rookie of the Year and was called a sure bet for the Triple Crown by Philadelphia manager Gene Mauch . Allen came within 10 batting average points of that accomplishment with the White Sox in '72, when he hit .308 with 37 homers and 113 RBIs and won the American League MVP award. Since retiring in 1977 (with 351 home runs and a .292 average), Allen has dabbled in horse racing.
In his new position he is less a coach than a mentor to those Phillies farmhands who are still adjusting to the life of professional baseball. Says Allen, "I look at some of these young men and see myself. The thing is, young players on their way up are like children on a high chair: You must tell them to watch out because they have no idea what it's like to fall."
Crash, as the nonconformist came to be known, spends most of the off-season with his second wife, Willa, and his two grown sons, relaxing in the farmhouse he had built for his late mother with his $70,000 signing bonus. Family life allows him to watch over the career of a most promising young player: three-year-old Dickie Allen III, who, according to his grandpa, "swings the bat from side to side like you wouldn't believe. He might really amount to something." But, adds Allen, ever unhurried, "There's no rush."
What Ever Happened To...: Dick Allen (Sports Illustrated, Franz Lidz, July 19, 1993, Page 86)
The day begins brilliantly clear at Philadelphia Park racetrack, with a few soft clouds feathering the horizon along the backstretch. Dick Allen has come to the grandstand to bask in the sun like an old lion. "Racehorses and ballplayers," he says. "They're bought, they're sold, they're traded. Today in this barn; tomorrow in somebody else's."
Allen changed barns six times during a tumultuous 15-year career in which he batted .292 and hit 351 home runs. The blasts off his 42-ounce bat soared out of ballparks. "He could handle a high fastball," says Gene Mauch , his manager with the Phillies in the mid-'60s. "It was the fast highball that gave him trouble."
Fiercely independent, Allen used to show up for games hung over, smoke in the dugout and abandon his teams for days. "They called me a bad boy," he says, cackling. "But I was mild-mannered compared to players today. Maybe I was ahead of my time."
At 51, Allen has the look of a combat veteran who has been some places and done some things and come back feeling good about himself. "People said there was one set of rules for me and another for the rest of the team," he says. "When I was coming up, black players couldn't stay in the same hotel or eat in the same places as whites. Two sets of rules? Baseball set the tone."
Allen's memories of his playing days are tempered by a weary sadness that has replaced a more painful bitterness. In 1964, when he led Philadelphia to pennant contention, he was the National League Rookie of the Year ; in 1969 he was booed out of the City of Brotherly Love. "I guess Philly wasn't ready for an outspoken black athlete," he says. Pelted with coins, chicken bones and beer bottles, he took to wearing a batting helmet when he played first base.
After the Phillies traded him, Allen lasted one year each in St. Louis and Los Angeles before landing with the White Sox, with whom he flourished. In 1972 he batted .308, led the American League with 113 RBIs and 37 homers and won the MVP award. He retired five years later and became a semirecluse, training thoroughbreds at a Maryland stable owned by his brothers Hank and Ron. Now and then he turns up at racetracks to shoot the breeze, but he is noncommittal about how he makes his living these days. "I plunk around from here to there," he says. "I do all right."
Allen says he never considered returning to baseball until May 1991, when his 27-year-old daughter, Terri, was murdered. "She was born while I was playing ball, and that's what fed her," Allen says, whispering. "I thought maybe I should get back into the game, if only to get my mind into something solid."
He approached several teams about jobs. "Hitting instructor, scout, anything," he says. "They told me to send a resume. A resume! All they had to do was look on the back of one of my bubble gum cards.
"I still love baseball, I do," Allen says. "But once you're done with the game, the game is done with you."
Last-Modified: March 9, 2019 8:08 AM EST