Bad Boy Bo Gets Better : Belinsky Leads Somewhat Normal Life in Las Vegas

LAS VEGAS —  Ah, the lights, the action, the round-the-clock pace. Welcome home, Bo Belinsky.

Las Vegas. There could not be a better place for this sometime pitcher and full-time philanderer. That guy who burst on the scene 30 years ago, threw the Angels’ first no-hitter, then made a fast dash to Hollywood’s fast lane.

After spending nine years on the North Shore of Oahu, Bo is back on the Mainland--tanned, rested and ready. Better look out.

Chill the champagne, tune up the Caddy and see if Ann-Margret is in town.

Where to first, Bo?

The casinos, maybe catch a show? Then grab a dancer and head out. The night is young and so is she. Let’s go.

Huh?

Your job? Sober? Get home early?

Wait a minute, where’s Bo Belinsky? What’d ya do with him?

“A lot of people are surprised to see me now,” Belinsky said. “They come looking for one thing, and they sort of find another. I don’t have to take the responsibility of being the Great Bo Belinsky anymore. The world functions just fine without him.”

And so, it seems, does Bo Belinsky.

At 56, Belinsky has established a somewhat normal lifestyle in the Nevada desert. At least by comparison.

He arrived in Las Vegas in 1990, shortly after his third marriage dissolved. He has worked the past six months for a car dealership as a community relations director, which involves a lot of schmoozing--the thing he always did best.

He spends time at the batting cages built by the dealership, advising kids on baseball and life. And, he walks a straight line--possibly for the first time in his life.

--No more chasing women, his favorite pastime when he wasn’t engaged in the national pastime.

--No more drinking and drugs, which engulfed his life after baseball and between marriages 1 and 2.

--No more self-centered Bo, who had a me-first approach that led to most of his problems in the first place.

About the worst thing you can say about Belinsky these days is that he smokes.

“I don’t want to sound like a saint,” Belinsky said. “I’ll always be Bo, and there will always be something to work on as far as character defects. But I’m sure the hell not what I used to be. I just want to see if I can clean the slate a little.”

OK, so it’s not the most noble cause in the world. But Belinsky enjoys the work.

He scours the community, promoting the dealership. He plays host when VIPs come to town, playing golf, showing the sights and arranging hotel accommodations.

But he is also at the cages working with kids several hours a week. He instructs them on the game and warns them about what they should avoid--most of which he has done.

It’s a different life.

“I’m just trying to figure out what I can do for an encore,” Belinsky said. “My career was one big blur. How do you top it?”

Indeed.

There has rarely been a player who got so much out of so little. Belinsky won 28 major league games in all--three fewer then Denny McLain won during the 1968 season alone.

But he captured the public eye with one flurry of ability, then stayed in it with one antic after another.

“I was with Steve Carlton at a benefit a couple years ago, and these two kids come up and ask for an autograph,” Belinsky said. “Steve reaches out, and one of the kids says, ‘No, my dad said to get Mr. Belinsky’s autograph.’

“I told Steve that he did it the easy way, by winning 300 games. You just try to get all this notoriety on 28 victories. Now that takes a lot of work.”

Said former Angel pitcher Dean Chance: “Not a week goes by that someone doesn’t ask me what Bo is doing. Any time you mention his name, people smile.”

Even before Belinsky put on a major league uniform, he created a stir.

The Angels purchased his rights from the Baltimore organization before the 1962 season. But Belinsky reported nine days late because of a contract dispute.

“He got off the plane and held a press conference, wearing sunglasses through the whole thing,” said Philadelphia Phillies General Manager Lee Thomas, who played for the Angels from 1961-64. “Bo always seemed to do things other people couldn’t do. He had more guts than a burglar.”

Belinsky proved to be a great drawing card, on the field and off.

“In those days, all you heard about was the Dodgers,” Chance said. “What the hell did the Angels have? Then Bo comes in and starts making headlines. It gave the Angels a lot of publicity. They knew they had a good thing.”

It didn’t hurt that Belinsky started the season 5-0.

On May 5, 1962, Belinsky made history by throwing a no-hitter against the Orioles at Dodger Stadium, where the Angels then played their home games. It was the first major league no-hitter thrown in Southern California.

Belinsky struck out nine, walked four and hit two batters. He said there were only two balls hit that were trouble. One was caught by outfielder Albie Person, the other was fielded by shortstop Jim Fregosi.

“About the sixth inning, I sensed that these guys weren’t hitting me like they wanted to,” Belinsky said.

The most memorable moment for Belinsky was the final out, a pop-up to third baseman Felix Torres. But it wasn’t just because it sewed up the no-hitter.

“Torres always wore a batting helmet on the field,” Belinsky said. “I never knew why until I saw him try to catch pop-ups. He didn’t, the helmet did.

“On the last out, Dave Nicholson popped one up, and Torres is straddling the foul line. Felix is pounding his glove, waiting for the ball, and my first thought was, ‘God, let it be foul, because if he doesn’t touch it, it’s a hit.’ Well, Felix caught it and fell down on both knees.”

It was the best, and possibly worst, thing that could have happened to Belinsky.

“That no-hitter was all this kid needed,” Belinsky said. “Two weeks later, I was up in Hollywood in a penthouse. I found out you didn’t have to be a millionaire to live like one.”

Life accelerated.

Syndicated columnist Walter Winchell had been at the game and took a liking to Belinsky. Soon, Belinsky was dating actresses--Ann-Margret, Tina Louise and others--and staying out until the early-morning hours.

“Bo was in the right place at the right time,” Chance said. “But there was nothing phony about him. What you saw was Bo Belinsky. He lived a life nobody ever lived.”

Complete with a candy-apple-red Cadillac, a gift from a dealership after the no-hitter.

Belinsky was a constant puzzlement to Manager Bill Rigney, who did everything he could to bring his pitcher in line.

To no avail.

“I never really thought I had all of Bo out there on the mound,” Rigney said.

Said Belinsky: “He’s right. There was only 56% of me out there.”

The rest was being spent around town.

On one occasion, he and Chance were arrested at 5 a.m. after an incident in which a woman claimed she was punched by Belinsky. Charges were later dropped.

Reports kept coming in to Rigney that Belinsky’s car was spotted outside nightclubs in the wee hours of the morning.

“It took me a long time to figure out how Rigney kept nailing me,” Belinsky said. “It was that candy-apple-red Cadillac. He would call me into his office and say, ‘You were at this club until 3 a.m.’ ”

All the running around took its toll. Belinsky went 6-1, then faded. He finished the season 10-11 and vowed to reform.

Said Belinsky: “The next year, I went into Rigney’s office and said, ‘Walter Winchell is not coming to town anymore. Ann-Margret is on location. Tina Louise is doing “Gilligan’s Island” (it actually debuted in 1964). And I got rid of that candy-apple-red Cadillac. I’m going to try my best.’

“Rigney said that was he was glad I’d started thinking that way. As I was leaving, he asked what I was driving. I said, ‘A Cadillac. A bright gold one.’ He just threw up his hands in the Rigney fashion.”

Belinsky went 2-9 during the 1963 season and in July was shipped out to Hawaii, then the Angels’ triple-A team, but refused to report for six weeks.

While his pitching went downhill, the publicity was still on the rise. In April, Belinsky announced his engagement to actress Mamie Van Doren. He later broke it off and asked for the ring back. The two have remained friends.

At one point during the season, the Roman Catholic Diocese that included his hometown of Trenton, N.J., issued a statement saying they hoped that he, like his pitching, would “fade into obscurity.”

Not many baseball players have been criticized by a church.

“I was very inconsiderate in those days,” Belinsky said. “I was very confused and had a lot of fear. Basically, I was lonely, and I wasn’t going to slow down long enough to see just how lonely I was.”

Belinsky was back with the Angels in 1964. This time Rigney made Chance and Belinsky roommates, saying he didn’t want to screw up two rooms.

“We were in Washington, D.C., and two FBI agents came to the park and said they needed to see Mr. Belinsky and Mr. Chance,” Belinsky said. “Rigney turned white, wondering what the hell we had done now. They told him that Mr. J. Edgar Hoover just wanted to meet them. Rigney just scratched his head. He always seemed to scratch his head whenever someone asked about Dean and me.”

The fun didn’t last.

In August, Belinsky was suspended after an incident in which he allegedly used a shaving-cream can while clubbing veteran Times sportswriter Braven Dyer, who was nearly three times his age.

The Angels suspended Belinsky, then demoted him and eventually traded him to the Philadelphia Phillies. He spent six years bouncing around the National League with Philadelphia, Houston, Pittsburgh and Cincinnati. He was through in 1970.

“It wasn’t your typical baseball career,” Belinsky said.

When it was over, things got worse.

There have been three marriages. The first was in 1968 to Jo Collins, Playboy’s playmate of the year in 1966. It lasted four years.

Belinsky drank more and more and got into drugs. It was a binge that lasted six years.

One day, he woke up under a bridge in Akron, Ohio, with a bottle of sake in his hand and decided it was time for help. He said he hasn’t touched alcohol or drugs since 1976.

“It’s funny, I’ve been all over looking for that good deal,” Belinsky said. “It turned out to be my last deal. I had to stop drinking.”

Belinsky bounced around after sobering up. He spent time in Hawaii, then in Las Vegas and San Diego.

He worked for the Padres for a time, speaking to groups about drug and alcohol abuse.

In 1981, Belinsky went back to Hawaii and ended up on Oahu’s North Shore, where he took up windsurfing.

“I became a recluse,” he said. “I didn’t answer my phone. I didn’t return letters. When someone came to my door, I would get rid of them.”

His seclusion lasted until 1990.

After his third marriage failed, he went to Las Vegas.

“When you’re in Las Vegas, you either gamble and meet people or you play golf and meet people,” Belinsky said. “I was playing golf one day with these car dealers, and they said I should get into the business. I told them I didn’t know anything about the car business. They said, ‘You don’t have to. In fact, it’s better if you don’t.’ ”

Belinsky sold cars for a while, then quit. He went back in December to help promote the dealership.

When the company built the batting cages, it was natural that Belinsky be involved. He’s now trying to interest other former and current major league players in helping out.

When not entertaining a visitor, Belinsky can be found on a podium, talking about drug and alcohol abuse. Other nights, he spends with his fellowship group.

“Everyone who’s trying to change their image says they work with kids or they found God,” Belinsky said. “When I get involved with someone, it’s because I care. Kids are easy to get involved with. I just keep life simple.”

But the past seems to always be there.

“People always want to know if I really did this or really did that,” Belinsky said. “My reputation goes a long way. But I don’t have the energy to live up to it anymore.”