Jay Delsing and His Father Are Portraits in Perseverance, And a Refusal to Be Defined By a Statistical Anomaly

Jay Delsing, who is competing this week on the Champions Tour, spoke at length about his father's baseball career and his own long stint on the PGA Tour, which lacked just one thing.

ST. LOUIS — Like father, like son? Not exactly.

Jay Delsing has taken a different path than his father, Jim Delsing. But their athletic careers have undeniable parallels, certainly in terms of perception.

Jim Delsing was a left-hand hitting, right-hand throwing outfielder. He played 10 seasons in major leagues baseball at a time when playing even 10 minutes in the big leagues was considerably more challenging. When Jim Delsing played (1948-60) there were only 16 teams in the major leagues, not 30.

At the age of 18, the fleet-footed Delsing lost two years of his pro career to World War II, drafted into the Army and serving in the European Theater. He spent six summers in the minor leagues, including four in Class AAA—despite hitting well over .300 during each season. He hit his first big-league home run at Yankee Stadium while subbing for Joe DiMaggio, and he helped the 1949 Yankees win the pennant.

And on a Friday afternoon in 1953, he hit two homers off Hall of Fame fireballer Bob Feller, leading the the Detroit Tigers to a win. In all, Jim Delsing persevered to play 882 major league games, bat .255, slam 40 home runs and collect 286 RBIs. In short, the guy did some things.

Yet, in his 80 years of life, which ended in May 2006, he was most recognized for his role in a slapstick sideshow. On Aug. 19, 1951, in the second game of a doubleheader at Sportsman’s Park, when St. Louis Browns manager Zack Taylor sent 3-foot-7 Eddie Gaedel to the plate to pinch-hit for Frank Saucier.

It was a promotional gimmick, one of many publicity stunts employed by St. Louis Browns owner Bill Veeck. A Chicago-based actor with a minuscule strike zone, Gaedel took four wide ones from Detroit’s Bob Cain and acknowledged the crowd as he walked to first base.

Taylor immediately inserted Delsing to pinch-run, bringing Gaedel’s short-lived baseball career to an end. Delsing played the remainder of the game in center field that day, going 1-for-3 with a double. But no one remembers that part, or any other part of his commendable career. What is remembered—the first thing Wikipedia recounts in Jim Delsing’s bio—is his connection to Eddie Gaedel.

After his career, Delsing accepted the situation in good nature, as was his way. “I never even heard him mention it, not to us,” said Jay Delsing, speaking for a brother and three sisters. But there were moments when Jim Delsing acknowledged a bit of frustrating irony.

“Roger Maris got in the record books for hitting 61 home runs,” Jim Delsing explained once. “I got into the record book for running for a midget. It really wasn’t anything special then, but there is something special every time somebody keeps bringing it up.”

Jim Delsing’s proud son, who is in the PGA Tour Champions field at Ascension Charity Classic at Norwood Hills Country Club this weekend, can relate. Jay Delsing has followed in his dad’s footsteps, sort of.

Jay Delsing is competing this week at the Ascension Charity Classic :: Dilip Vishwanat/Getty Images

Jay was a good basketball player in high school, as his dad had been. He tried baseball too, played on some youth teams, sometimes a catcher, sometimes a third baseman. But it didn’t take, not like golf. As a teenager, Jay began doing odd jobs and looping bags at Norwood Hills—the same club where he is competing this week. He learned to both play and love golf. He began opening eyes in junior events and before long colleges came calling, including UCLA.

“I took a lot of grief from classmates in high school for playing golf, until they found out I got a scholarship to UCLA,” Delsing remembered.

He became part of a remarkable college squad, which included the likes of Corey Pavin, Duffy Waldorf, Steve Pate and Tom Pernice Jr. As a two-time All-American, Delsing certainly belonged, and like the other letter-winners he pursued a professional career.

He turned pro in 1984, qualified for the PGA Tour and then stayed there for the better part of the next 20 years. There were ups and downs, injuries and setbacks along the way. Six times, he went back to the PGA Tour Qualifying Tournament and secured his regular status among the best 125 players in the world. The mental toughness it takes to handle the pressure and accomplish such a feat should never be discounted.

Yet, when one researches “Jay Delsing” on Wikipedia, the first biographical mention of his professional career begins with “winless in 565 starts on the PGA Tour.”

Read on and you will discover he finished tied for second twice: at the 1993 New England Classic and at the 1995 FedEx St. Jude Classic. You’ll discover he had a competitive round of 61 in Memphis at the St. Jude Classic, finished third three times, top-5 on 11 occasions and had 30 top-10 finishes. And you will realize what he did, without winning, was quite remarkable.

What he did was not unlike what his dad did—he persevered. Just as his father’s creditable baseball career is smothered in the folklore of Eddie Gaedel, Jay Delsing’s estimable resilience and longevity gets lost in the novelty of the statistical anomaly.

“It’s like anything,” Jay Delsing said, after participating in a Thursday pro-am at Ascension. “My dad was a kid who grew up on a dairy farm in Wisconsin—and went not to play for the Yankees and play in the big leagues.

“Would I like to have won the Masters? Did I dream of winning major championships and of being the No. 1 player in the world? Of course I did. And you stride to get that stuff. But you’re not guaranteed anything.

“It registers with me even more because, in my heart of hearts, I know I was capable of doing those things. But if you would have told me when I was a kid that I would have had a career in professional golf, and I would be sitting here all these years later, talking with you, playing in this golf tournament, I would have asked, ‘Where do I sign?’

"Oh, no. I can look you in the eyes and tell you, I’ve had a great life.”

Of course, winning does matter in a business where the financial rewards are based on leaderboards. Yes in terms of fame and fortune, it certainly matters. At the same time …

“Only one guy wins each week,” Delsing said. “I mean, many, many more guys don’t. And when Tiger Woods came along, that changed everything. I mean, how do you think Phil Mickelson feels about having never been the No. 1-ranked player in the world? I mean, that’s a guy who has won (45) events and all those (six) majors and yet he never got to the world’s No. 1.

“There’s just oddities with the way things go. Bobby Wadkins played in way more events than I did (715) and never won. But you go about your business and you do what you do, the best you can, and you just have to accept that. The game is just like that.”

Delsing, who won twice on what is now the Korn Ferry Tour, could stew over things. He came oh-so-close to winning in Memphis at St. Jude in ’95. His ball hit a golf cart off the 17th fairway on Sunday and caromed under a tree. He wound up making a bogey and then lost to Jim Gallagher by one stroke. “What are you going to do?” Delsing said.

But the 63-year-old Delsing isn’t programmed to second-guess or ponder what-ifs. His career earnings on the PGA Tour top $4 million. His ability to stay solvent among the world’s elite players has afforded him a healthy pension and a full scrapbook. He has spent time as a television analyst, hosts a regular radio show and conducts golf-related business in St. Louis.

He works on his game and dreams of better scores. He still lives and breathes it. And when he gets the opportunity to compete, as he has this week in his hometown, he doesn’t hesitate. Yes, he wants to win as much as the next guy, maybe a little more. But for Delsing, the passion never wanes, and the bottom line stands still.

“Do I have any regrets? Not really,” said Delsing, who was inducted into the St. Louis Sports Hall of Fame in 2018. “I love the game, I feel like I’m lucky. I genuinely do. Look, things could have come out in a lot of different ways. It didn’t have to turn out this good.

“There is one thing I learned long ago. Our days on the golf course are special, not because of the quality of the golf that we play but because of the quality of the people that we play with.”

Jay Delsing has spent his entire adult life playing the game he grew to love as a kid. He has traveled to amazing places, met amazing people and still loves what he does like the day he started doing it. He’s never won?

Who are you kidding?