Column: Gaylord Perry is remembered for more than his pitches

Baseball Hall of Famer Gaylord Perry pitched for the San Diego Padres for only two seasons, but during that memorable 1978-’79 stint, he won his second career Cy Young Award, becoming the first player in MLB history to capture the award in both the American and National leagues.

When news broke of Perry’s death of natural causes early Thursday in his South Carolina home, tales and tributes started flowing as quickly as one of his famous pitches.

San Diego photographer Paul Nestor surveyed a prized possession — the hat Perry wore on May 6, 1982, when he pitched for the Seattle Mariners and recorded his 300th career victory.

Despite his nickname of the “Ancient Mariner,” Perry, at age 43, became the first pitcher to achieve the 300 mark since pitcher Early “Gus” Wynn in 1963, also at age 43.

Nestor was living in Seattle at the time and remembers well that game in the Kingdome.

He first met Perry at the Bellevue Athletic Club, where they both often ate breakfast.

It was there, four days after the hallmark game, that he bought the history-making hat from Perry. Years later, when the All-Star game was played in Petco Park in 2016, he took the hat to the fan fest at the San Diego Convention Center.

Perry good-naturedly posed for a photo and wrote and signed a note addressed to Nestor verifying the cap’s authenticity, writing: “This is the hat I wore for the first six innings of my 300th career win on May 6th, 1982.”

The rim of the ball cap is clearly stained but most likely from dirty, sweaty hands.

The self-admitted doctor of the spitball once told David Letterman that, while he had applied Vaseline on various parts of his body, he never put it on his baseball glove or his ball cap, the first places an umpire would check.

The discoloration, though, is a reminder of his colorful career because he confessed to using saliva, mud, K-Y jelly, even sweat, to doctor his infamous spitball. He wrote about this in his 1974 book, co-published with Bob Sudyk, “Me and the Spitter: An Autobiographical Confession.”

Consultant Barry Jantz, past CEO of Grossmont Healthcare District, has a signed copy of that book.

He met Perry on the field at the old San Diego Stadium. It was Sept. 16, 1978, Perry’s first season pitching for the Padres and one day after his 40th birthday. The Padres had arranged a pregame birthday surprise — a singing telegram delivered live on the field.

A friend of Jantz, then 19, was the singer, and he escorted her with other players onto the field for the surprise performance.

“Perry was a total gentleman,” Jantz posted on Facebook this week, “a 40-year-old gentleman, pitching an amazing season, winning the Cy Young Award that year.”

Jantz recalls on that day he pitched “a complete game gem, a 2-1 five-hitter over the Astros.” Jantz took a copy of Perry’s book to the game, and the pitcher graciously signed it.

Joe Ditler, a Coronado writer, remembers spending an hour one evening in the early ‘80s talking to Perry about the best ballpark peanuts, his North Carolina peanut farm and soaking his pitching fingers in pickle brine the night before a game.

Ditler was part-owner of the Giants Journal, then the official publication of the San Francisco Giants, and was covering baseball events at the time.

“I remember being fascinated at Gaylord Perry cracking peanuts and enjoying them like they were oysters on the half shell. He was a Southern gentleman. ... At least, compared to all the other gruff ball players we had experience with back then,” Ditler recalls.

“I wish I could remember more of that conversation with him, but what I do remember is that he made me feel very comfortable and a real part of that conversation.” Ditler added that Perry believed L.A. had the best peanuts.

Nestor, too, remembers Perry’s kindness and compassionate treatment of others, especially his fans.

At the All-Star game festivities here in 2016, pitcher Gaylord Perry stayed late to chat with a young San Diego fan in a wheelchair.

(Paul Nestor)

At the All-Star game fan fest autograph signing event here in 2016, hundreds of folks were waiting in line to meet Perry and Rollie Fingers. Security guards eventually had to cut off the line, turning away many disappointed fans. Among them was a young man in an electric full-assist wheelchair brought by his mother to meet his idol.

After Perry came down from the podium and hopped in an electric cart to be driven away, Nestor informed him about this special fan.

“In typical Gaylord style, he asked the golf cart driver to stop and had me escort the fan and his mother over,” Nestor recalls. “There, Gaylord spent the next 20 minutes talking to this young man, arms around him. You could see the excitement in both of their eyes.

“This was the Gaylord Perry I had known from years earlier.”