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Ted Lyons, Hall of Fame pitcher, had a reputation for tall tales. One abbreviated one, on his hitting prowess:

“One day there were two out in the ninth and I hit a pop fly so high that the fans got tired of waiting for it to come down. So they all went home and listened to it drop by turning on the radio.”

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As was true of many major leaguers during World War I, Rabbit Maranville left baseball during the 1918 season to join the military -- in his case, the Navy, where he served as a gunner on the USS Pennsylvania.

On November 10, 1918, Rabbit told his shipmates that they would get big news the next day. "Everyone kept asking me what the big news was going to be," he remembered. "I said, 'Wait until tomorrow; I will tell you then.' At 6:30 the next morning we got word that the armistice had been signed. That afternoon I was called in to the captain's quarters. The captain said to me, 'How is it you knew the armistice was going to be signed today? Who gave you that information?' I said, 'I didn't know anything about the armistice being signed. The reason I said the big day is tomorrow and they would hear great news is that today is my birthday.'"

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Wilbur Mizell was a left-handed pitcher known in the late 50s and early 60s for his fastball, his lack of control of that fastball, and his nickname of "Vinegar Bend," for a Mississippi hamlet near which he grew up.

Mizell on life in Vinegar Bend:

"Probably the worst thing that happened was the fire. It started in the bathroom. Fortunately, we were able to put it out before it reached the house."

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Yogi Berra was, as we know, a great player who was almost as famous for his malaprops as for his baseball exploits.

His son Dale also played in the majors. Dale Berra wasn't as accomplished a player as his father (few are), nor was he as witty. But he had his moments.

The younger Berra, comparing himself to his Hall-of-Fame father:

"Our similiarities are different."

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It's been more than a century since Honus Wagner played his final major league game, but The Flying Dutchman is still regarded by baseball scholars as the greatest shortstop in history.

Wagner was taking it easy during spring training 1909 -- he was 35, his job was secure, and he was always in shape, So he wasn't playing much in camp. A young acquisition from a minor league team, John Barney Miller, was getting a lot of time at shortstop, and looking pretty good -- good enough, as it turned out, that shortly after the season opened manager Fred Clarke bounced a veteran second baseman and instilled Miller in his stead, and the rookie played a big role as the Pirates won the World Series.

But that was months ahead. Right now, this unknown is playing short, and opening eyes.

A writer approached Wagner as asked: Who's that at shortstop?

Hans, in his heavy accent, replied: Dot's Miller.

And John Barney Miller played his entire 12-year major league career known as Dots Miller.

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Art Fowler was Billy Martin's preferred pitching coach, following the oft-fired manager from job to job. His most significant qualification appeared to be the ability to match Martin drink for drink.

A struggling pitcher once approached Fowler with a theory, that he was dropping his arm during his delivery after a few innings. Keep an eye on me and look for that during this start, the pitcher suggested.

A few innings into the outing the pitcher's control started to wobble. After he walked two men and fell behind a third, Fowler ambled out to the mound.

"Am I dropping my arm?" the pitcher asked.

"Ah, I don't know about any of that," Flowler replied. "But you're walking people and Billy's pissed."

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Rickey Henderson was born on Christmas, which is why I post a Rickey Henderson story for the Sunday Funnies that week. And there are a lot of Rickey Henderson stories, some true, some not (but all of them plausible).

This year's:

Henderson once fell asleep on an ice pack and got frostbite, which forced him to miss three games — in mid-August.

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Former Mets outfielder Mookie Wilson, on why he was married in a ball park:

"My wife wanted a big diamond."

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Former big league shortstop, manager and scout Eddie Kasko, asked about the best signing during the period when he was running the Red Sox scouting department:

"Probably the biggest one was Roger Clemens. We were drafting, I think, 19th at the time and we didn't think we would get Clemens. Clemens didn't throw that hard when he was at the University of Texas. He threw hard enough, but Calvin Schiraldi was at Texas at the same time and if you put the two of them next to each other, Schiraldi probably had a better pitcher's body; he threw harder, and probably had better stuff at the time. Our scout at the time—Danny Doyle—the way he put it, 'I'm not sure what Schiraldi's got behind his belt buckle, but that Clemens boy will fight you.' So we got to 19 and Clemens was still there, so I took him. When I called Danny Doyle, I told him, 'Well, I took Clemens for you. Now go out and sign him.' 'Oh, I'll get him signed, all right.' He really liked him.

"He called back within, I think, two days and said, 'I signed the Clemens boy.' I said, 'What did you give him?' He says, '$121,000.' I said, '$121,000? Why not 120 or 125?' He said, 'Well, 21's his lucky number.' I said, 'Well, did you try offering him $21,000?'

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Baltimore outfielder Al Bumbry was in a slump, and mentioned to manager Earl Weaver that he was going to a chapel service.

Replied Weaver: "Take your bat with you."

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Think you can stand another Frankie Pytlak story? So can I.

As with last week's tale, this supposedly came during Pytlak's rookie season. Pytlak's teammates told him that the elevators in their hotel were only free for the first eight floors; after that it was 10 cents a floor.

Pytlak's room was on the 33rd floor, so he decided to save $2.50 a trip and take the stairs.

After a few such excursions, his "buddies" told him that they had arranged with hotel management for him to ride free.

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Another story featuring Willie Kamm and Frankie Pytlak, the duo of last week's tale.

Kamm was an established veteran when Pytlak was a naive rookie, and Kamm told him when their team, the Cleveland Indians, made their first trip to New York that they had to contribute $5 a day to the local gangsters or the gangsters would enter their hotel rooms and tear up their clothes.

Pytlak handed over the money. Kamm kept it for a month before returning it.

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Willie Kamm was a slick fielding third baseman in the 1920s. Catcher Frankie Pytlak was a teammate with a reputation for being, let us say, eccentric.

As Kamm told the story:

“Somebody hit a pop fly between third and home once. I was yelling, ‘I got it,’ but I didn’t hear any answer. Calling for a ball is one thing, but getting the answer is more important. I was running under the ball yelling, ‘I got it’ and wondering where Frankie was. I didn’t hear him so I guessed he was standing back to let me take it. Of course we plowed right into each other. Luckily, Frankie was a short guy and I still reached out and made the catch. But Frankie jumped up and said, ‘Didn’t you hear me waving?’"

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Today I resume my offseason tradition of Sunday posts intended to elicit a smile, if not a full laugh. Veracity is not guaranteed; tall tales are part of baseball humor. I also, having done this so many years, won't promise I'm not reusing some of them by mistake.

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Moe Drabowsky was a pretty good relief pitcher in the 1960s. He was also a world class prankster.

While playing for the old Kansas City Athletics, Moe became quite familiar with the phone system in Memorial Stadium. Then he was traded away, and one day in 1966 was back in the KC park wearing a Baltimore Orioles uniform.

Jim Nash, as the story goes, was throwing a shutout into the sixth inning. Moe picked up the phone in the visitors bullpen and dialed up the home bullpen. "Get (Lew) Krause hot now!" he barked in passable imitation of A's manager Alvin Dark, then hung up.

The A's bullpenners were baffled but obedient -- until Dark noticed the activity. The real manager called the pen and had Krause stop throwing. A few minutes later, Drabowsky called again and restarted the warmup.

Eventually the laughter in the Orioles bullpen tipped off the A's.

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Bob Prince, long time radio announcer for the Pittsburgh Pirates, at Stan Musial's retirement dinner:

"It's ridiculous that we are gathered here tonight to honor a man who made more than 7,000 outs."

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Rabbit Maranville, the Hall of Fame shortstop, got to Cooperstown on the strength of his glovework, which was legendary.

But he was a poor hitter, both at the plate and in the brawls he doted on causing -- but pretty good at hitting the sauce.

One day Maranville -- who stood just 5-feet-5 -- came out of the team hotel and picked a fight with a cabbie. He lost the fight. Undeterred, he picked another cabbie, who also licked him. Then a third. Then a fourth. After a fifth fight, a team employee dragged Maranville away.

"What are you doing?" he demanded of Maranville.

"I'm trying to find one I can lick," Maranville said.

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You may have seen the videos the Twins made this spring titled The Escobar Name Game, in which Eduardo Escobar struggles to come up with the names of his teammates.

(If you haven't, visit here and here. It's worth the time.)

Escobar is far from being unique in his inability to remember names. Babe Ruth was notorious for that as well.

When longtime teammate (and ultimately fellow Hall of Fame inductee) Waite Hoyt was traded away from the Yankees, Ruth felt he had to say something in farewell. What he came up with:

"I'm going to miss you, Walter."

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The Hall of Famer with the shortest name: Mel Ott.

Master Melvin on the advantages of six letters:

"Every time I sign a ball, and there must have been thousands, I thank my luck that I wasn't born Coveleski, or Wambsganss, or Peckinpaugh."

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Before Casey Stengel became a genius as manager of the New York Yankees, he was a failure as manager of the Boston Braves and Brooklyn Dodgers.

One lowlight of his Dodgers tenure was his invention of a pickoff play at third base. The pitcher was to throw the ball at the right-handed batter's head, the idea being that the sight of the batter going to the ground would cause the baserunner to freeze, while the catcher would have a clear lane to throw to third.

The problem, as Stengel later described it: "The fellows I had playing third base for me used to freeze right along with the base runner, and our left fielder was kept busy running down the ball in the bullpen."

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Zach Greinke has earned a reputation as a baseball savant, a guy who sees things that others miss and exploits that knowledge.

So when he approached his struggling young teammate in Kansas City, Alex Gordon, and asked the slumping rookie to accompany him to the video room, Gordon figured that Greinke had spotted something, a flaw in Gordon's swing that he could fix and turn his season around.

Greinke turned on the monitor and played -- a clip of Greinke hitting a home run. Greinke watched the video admiringly, then turned to Gordon.

"Do more of that," Greinkke instructed.