Philadelphia Phillies shortstop Trea Turner was placed on the 10-day injured list Saturday with a left hamstring strain, but he’ll likely be out much longer than that.
Turner told reporters in Philadelphia that he expects to be out for about six weeks.
When asked how long he expects he’ll be out, Trea Turner said six weeks. https://t.co/CPArUeWL9N
If that projected timeline holds up, Turner would miss around 30 games and be able to return sometime around June 15.
Turner picked up the injury in the fourth inning of the Phillies’ 4–3 win over the San Francisco Giants on Friday night. After a pitch glanced off Giants catcher Tom Murphy’s glove, Turner showed off his incredible speed by scoring from second base on a passed ball. But he told reporters that he felt something in his left hamstring a few steps before crossing home plate.
Turner was replaced at shortstop by Edmundo Sosa in the top of the fifth.
It will be tough sledding for the Phillies (22–11) without Turner in the lineup. The 30-year-old is batting .343/.392/.460 with 10 doubles and 10 stolen bases in 33 games this season.
To take Turner’s place on the 26-man roster, the Phillies recalled infielder Kody Clemens from the Triple A Lehigh Valley IronPigs.
Sam Streeter was known for his curveball. The lefty won pennants with the Pittsburgh Crawfords in the 1930s, part of a loaded roster with Josh Gibson, Cool Papa Bell and Oscar Charleston. (He also shared a rotation with a young pitcher he mentored by the name of Satchel Paige.) In a decade and a half of professional baseball, Streeter built a career studded with highlights, including starting the very first East-West All-Star Game and throwing a 17-inning complete game at storied Rickwood Field in Birmingham.
Now, some eight decades after he threw his final pitch, Streeter has a new hold in the record books. What he does not have is anything to mark his burial spot.
With MLB’s recent incorporation of Negro League statistics, Streeter’s 1,156 innings, 3.77 ERA and 585 strikeouts are officially major league numbers. He is one of more than 2,300 players from the Negro Leagues added to MLB’s historical record last week. But the quest to uphold their legacy asks more than admission to the record books.
Streeter died in 1985. He was cremated with his remains buried in an unmarked spot on a hillside in Pittsburgh’s Homewood Cemetery. It’s just a few miles from where he once played with the Crawfords, where he formed a battery with Gibson, widely seen as one of the best catchers in history. Gibson is now recognized as the major league batting champion. And Streeter is now among the players for whom Gibson’s great-grandson, Sean, is working to provide a grave marker.
“This is near and dear to our hearts,” Sean Gibson says. “To me, it feels that if you don’t have a grave marker, you’re still not resting in peace … We want to make sure that these guys get a final resting place.”
Sean Gibson is the executive director of the foundation, which supports a variety of programs aimed at helping local youth, and he didn’t anticipate their work expanding to grave markers. That changed in 2022. He learned then his great-grandmother was buried in an unmarked grave: It was known that Josh Gibson had not had a headstone for years after his death until members of the baseball community installed one in 1975. But the family never knew that his wife, Helen, was buried elsewhere in the same cemetery without a marker of her own. Sean went about securing a grave marker for his great-grandmother. He also began wondering if the experience might be relevant to other local families with ties to the Negro Leagues. They might have no idea where their ancestors were buried or whether their graves were marked. In a city with as rich a history of Black baseball as Pittsburgh—once home to a pair of proud franchises in the Crawfords and the Homestead Grays—it seemed likely that a handful of former players might be in unmarked graves. But he was surprised at just how many they found.
The foundation located roughly 20 former Negro League players in unmarked graves in and around Pittsburgh to start. They began fundraising two years ago—each marker costs roughly $1,000—and were able to place their first headstones last summer. The foundation has now marked 11 graves, each bearing the man’s name, date of birth and death, and an image of a baseball with an inscription reading “Negro Leagues Player.” They continue to raise money for the remaining nine. That group includes Streeter, along with another former player buried in the same cemetery, an outfielder named Forrest Mashaw who played for the Homestead Grays in the 1920s.
The grave marker project includes placing signs providing more information about the player buried there. / Courtesy of the Josh Gibson Foundation
Some of these men played with or against Josh Gibson, who died at just 35 years old in 1947, only a few months before Jackie Robinson would break the color barrier in MLB. Others had played decades earlier. Some played for many teams over many years, while others played only a season, and some even just a few games. Sean Gibson sees all of them as part of the same Negro Leagues brotherhood and feels the same obligation to provide them dignity in death.
“Baseball is a team sport,” Gibson says. “So even though some of these guys may not have been his teammates, it’s a team effort for us to make this work.”
The work of identifying the players and locating their graves was done by a local social studies teacher named Vince Ciaramella. In the early days of the pandemic, looking for quiet spaces to get fresh air with his family, he turned to cemeteries. To make it feel a bit less macabre, Ciaramella decided to look for specific graves, beginning with his own family members, then moving on to search for local sports figures. (“I can’t just go to a graveyard without a purpose,” he says. “I’m not Gomez Addams.”) Eventually, it became a project for him and his wife and young son. They visited the graves of every MLB player in and around Pittsburgh and wrote a book about what they found titled Greats in the Graveyard. But when Ciaramella began looking for Negro League graves, he would sometimes find himself checking and rechecking what should be a final resting spot, only to find an empty patch of grass. Ciaramella soon heard that Gibson was interested in locating players who needed grave markers. He was happy to help.
“They were marginalized in life and forgotten in death,” Ciaramella says. “And this way, the spotlight is shining back on them.”
The process generally involves looking up the player’s death certificate and reaching out to the cemetery for their records before visiting the burial spot himself. “You can look for a grave and see that it’s Section B, Plot 1 or whatnot, and you start moving down, essentially just counting, and then you come to a big blank spot,” Ciaramella says. Next, they’ll trace the ownership of the plot and search for any living descendants. (With all 11 players the foundation has placed markers for so far, the plot’s ownership had reverted to the cemetery, often long ago; 10 of the 11 had no living family they could locate.) They can then prepare to commission and place a grave marker.
Alongside each marker, they have placed a small sign with the franchises each man played for and a code that people can scan for more information. The hope is that someone might see one and be inspired to learn more. This part was especially important, Gibson says. He wants the project to be about not just providing the players with headstones but sharing their stories with the community.
That makes MLB’s incorporation of Negro Leagues statistics feel like an opportunity. Gibson has spent the last two weeks fielding calls about the new place in the record books for his great-grandfather. But he is hopeful that might be only a starting point for more questions—about other players, other stories and other places their legacy might live on.
While Trout was distraught about the news, ESPN's Stephen A. Smith seemed to make it all a big joke as he tore down the Angels outfielder for having to miss more time due to injury during Wednesday's episode of First Take.
“How the hell is he always hurt?," Smith yelled. "I don’t understand this. It drives me nuts when I see baseball players get hurt. What is it that you’re doing with yourself physically that you can’t stay healthy playing baseball? Now, you get hit by a pitch or something, that’s different, I get all of that. With these oblique injuries, you’re running around bases, catching one, then you’re running out for a fly ball, and all of a sudden, something gets tweaked. What the hell is going on?”
Here's Smith's full rant:
Stephen A. Smith isn't sure how baseball players like Mike Trout keep getting injured.
"What the hell are you doing to take care of yourself? Always injured. I mean, damn, it's baseball. What are we talking about here? It's not football. It's not boxing. It's not the UFC..." pic.twitter.com/MamhcLHQKH
Someone brought this to my attention. This is just dumb. This is "take" culture at its worst. Pretend you know things that you don't, get upset, get loud, never back down. Never learn. Never grow. Never change, ESPN https://t.co/Ek08fHUOOU
Stephen A. Smith talking about baseball is as cringeworthy as Christopher Russo talking about college football. National guys spread too thin who don’t know anything but a couple of sound bites. Zero depth. https://t.co/caJM7XRqGs