The man never lived in Fairbanks, or Alaska, and all told he likely spent less than 10 weeks of his life spread out over 20 years in the 49th State.   Yet, he picked up the nickname of "Sourdough Sam."   Thus, it sent a shock wave through Fairbanks in particular and Alaska in general, when it was learned that Sam Suplizio of Grand Junction, CO, had died in late December of 2006.

"Sourdough" is a Fairbanks and northern parts of Alaska, term of endearment.   It usually means you have lived in the State at least 30 years and have completed some bizarre rituals such as kissing a Polar Bear, peeing in the Yukon River and so on.    Sam Suplizio received the moniker before he ever made his first visit to Alaska.

In August of 1963 the Alaska Goldpanners of Fairbanks were en route to the National Baseball Congress Tournament in Wichita, KS, and stopped in Grand Junction for a four-game series.  Suplizio, likely the greatest amateur baseball player ever to take the field, shined as usual and Fairbanks Manager H.A. (Red) Boucher's eyes bugged out at the unbelievable talent he was witnessing.

Red immediately wanted to have Sam join his team for the national tournament but Sam said no as he had a family vacation already arranged.   After some heavy negotiations (of which I was the middle man)  the Suplizio family changed its annual vacation plan from Sun Valley to Wichita.   It was quite a deal for the Goldpanners, who agreed to fund the family vacation.

Sam responded by hitting.500, being named the All-America center fielder, and the Most Valuable Player of the 36-team event.   He then accepted a Boucher invite to the team's annual banquet in Fairbanks...in January.   His personality sparkled as he accepted the award and made brief remarks in his response.

Fairbanksans have never forgotten the first playing days of Suplizio in a Fairbanks uniform, nor his first appearance at the banquet.  As was his way, Sam made a parcel of immediate friends.   He then capped off the love affair by bringing the Grand Junction Eagles to Fairbanks each summer (playing in the Midnight Sun Series in 1964) and with him he brought a number of cases of Coors Beer, which he presented to various locals.   Coors at that time could not be purchased in Alaska, so was a gift of major proportions - even to someone like myself, a non-beer drinking former Coloradoan. 

Suplizio leaves a legacy far beyond the bounds of Grand Junction, or Colorado, or Fairbanks, or Alaska, or semi-pro baseball.   Fact is that Sam was such a charismatic person that no writer, not even one book, will ever capture his greatness on or off the field.   He had so many talents it is impossible to put words around him.

Any true testament to Sam would need to be a very large volume with a chapter devoted to each of the legion who called him friend.   It would be a compilation of stories such that it could not even be made into a Hollywood movie, for no one would find it believable.

That leaves me to write about my friend of 45-plus years.

I met Sam Suplizio in mid-August of 1961.   I had been offered the Sports Editor's job at the Daily Sentinel newspaper in Grand Junction and flew to that city for my first-ever visit to make a decision.

The Grand Junction Eagles semi-pro team was playing its final game of the season that first night.    The star center fielder, Sam Suplizio, hit a late two-run homer to tie the game and an 11th-inning three-run home run to win the 17-14 slugfest from the Raleigh, NC, Tigers.

Retiring Sports Editor Joe Much introduced me to Sam after the game as Joe sought out some comments from the star for his game story.   I was informed that Sam was to become the manager of the team the following year.   I told Sam if I took the job I would contact him about a story to that effect as soon as I got to work.

I took the job and arrived about August 30 of '61.   A few days later Sam and I went to lunch, and I did the article.   But, much more happened in that diner.   Sam and I hit it off immediately and he took on the aura of "teacher"  as he discussed many things about selling insurance (his real job)  and life in general.  It was that day that Sam hooked me on amateur baseball and I am still at it today.

I will digress here to talk a little of Sam's talent.  It can not be overstated.   The story is legend.   He was on call near the end of the 1956 season to join the New York Yankees' outfield (the REAL Yankees).   Seven days from New York he slid into second base in an AA game and snapped his right wrist when contacting Charley Neal as he attempted to break up a double play.   He was so valuable the Yankees paid for three operations, all unsuccessful.   In the winter draft the Brooklyn Dodgers snagged him.   He coached and managed for them while several other operations were tried.

All operations failed and Sam - on the way to replace Joe DiMaggio and to precede and nullify the need for Roger Maris - was left disabled with a locked wrist.

The sad state of affairs left him to return to Grand Junction in 1958.    While he talked many times about the unfortunate turn of events in his baseball life, I do not remember  him one time cursing his luck.   His outlook was always bright.

He returned to Grand Junction where he had played for the Eagles in 1952 out of the University of New Mexico (where the DuBois, PA, native was an All-Skyline Conference quarterback) and he met his first wife, Lonnie, at Lincoln Park (now appropriately Suplizio Stadium).   Sam once told me the teenager, Lonnie Sullivan, would sit on the center field fence and heckle him, even tossing pebbles at him.  It worked for her and four children resulted from the union,  Carter, Cindy, Tommy and Sammy.

The return to Junction in '58 found Sam joining Home Loan and Investment Co. (which he would later own)  as an insurance salesman.   The head of Home Loan at the time was a fine gentleman named D. S. Dykstra.  Dykstra is important in that he was the head of a group including Sam, Jay Tolman and Dale Hollingsworth trying to bring the National Junior College Baseball Tournament to Grand Junction from its home in Miami, OK.  They succeeded in 1959 and Sam served as director for 33 years as the tournament grew to the major baseball attraction it is today.

Sam played for the Eagles in 59-60-61 before becoming the field manager.   It has been said he never hit under .400.    Not quite true, but who is counting.   In  1959 it was an unbelievable .464.   In 1960 he 'cooled' off to .403 but in 1961 he hit .349 while another ex-pro, Lee Dobyns, led the club at .418.   Sam rebounded at .402 in 1962 and .415 in 1963.

Don't forget, the man had a locked right (throwing) wrist.  Not only did he work around that to perfect his swing, but he developed an overhand throw (much like an old-style pitching machine) from the outfield that cut down base runners with regularity.   And, maybe his strongest suit was is uncanny ability to get a jump on a fly ball - no matter how hard driven - and make nearly impossible catches appear barely more than routine.

After 1963 Sam played a less-than-full time role but continued to post high numbers as he switched the team from its mix of old pros and youngsters to an all-college age aggregation.   It was here Sam shined the most as coach, teacher, guidance counselor and friend.  He must hold the world record for the number of former players he helped in their personal lives as well as in their professional pursuits.   Truth is he touched so many lives in and out of baseball that no complete listing will ever be made.

To wrap up the talent part let it suffice to say one only needed to witness Sam in one game, maybe one at-bat or inning, to realize his spectacular talent.

I worked closely with Sam and the Eagles and we spent many an hour together.   Seven years my senior, he was a true mentor.  We roomed together on many, many road trips,  we had coffee at 9 a.m. at Bud Buthorn's LaCourt Hotel virtually every day, we fished together on dozens of occasions, had our weekly poker club, and served on many boards and commissions together.

After I left Grand Junction, first returning to Pueblo, CO,  and then landing in Fairbanks, we stayed in very close touch.   Since word of his death I have poured back over the files full of his letters (penmanship might have been his only weakness) and have to admit his loss leaves me shaken.

The personal loss is enormous for his present wife, Caroline, his associates in major league baseball, his associates and friends in amateur baseball, his associates and friends in Grand Junction, his extended family, and those of us on the perimeter.

I could fill countless pages just writing about Sam's involvement with amateur baseball - and hopefully will someday.  I am a hardened ex-newspaper editor who has seen many tragedies first hand.  I've written dozens of editorials and obituaries about dignitaries.  None before ever created the pounding heart and sadness I feel writing about my friend Sam.   I am just one of dozens left unable to really grasp losing this dynamic personality.

I'm left to believe that what is in the heart is the only true way to encompass the life and times of Sam Suplizio.

By Don Dennis
General Relativity