Time Traveler Tuesdays: Shortstops of the 1960s: A Vacuum Cleaner and a Scrappy Mets legend
- Manny Fantis

- 6 minutes ago
- 3 min read

The Mets' shortstops of the 1960s won't go down in history as the strongest players to play the position for the team. That probably would come decades later. However, some solid players filled the role, back when the position was considered more of a fielding spot than a hitter's.

The inaugural opening day shortstop in 1962 for the Mets was Felix Mantilla. He was a solid hitter, so he stayed in the lineup, playing most of his games at 3rd base that year. Elio Chacon took the job from Mantilla early in the season and ended up playing the rest of the year for the team at SS.
Chacon had great hands and was a solid fielder. However, not so much at the plate that year as far as hitting and slugging. The native Venezuelan batted .236 with only 2 HRs and 27 RBI, with a .664 OPS. Those are dreadful-looking numbers, but you need to remember that this was a time when fielding was the most important part of choosing a shortstop, and there was no expectation of power from that position necessarily in the 60s.
Chacon developed a bad reputation in the majors in 1962 after a brawl with the legendary Willie Mays. On May 28, a pickoff attempt led to some words between Mays and Chacon, resulting in an on-field brawl. That moment followed Chacon for the rest of his career, and when it was time to re-sign him, the Mets passed on him, and so did the rest of the league. He spent the rest of his career in the minor leagues.
Later in the decade, in 1964, the Mets traded for a man known as the "vacuum cleaner," Roy McMillan.
McMillan played SS for the Mets until 1966, and gave the team some solid defense at the position. The team traded for him early in the season to provide veteran leadership to a very young team. He played 113 games for the Mets in 1964, batting .211 with 1 HR, 25 RBI, and 80 total hits for the season.
1965 was McMillan's last injury-free year in the majors. He batted .242, with 1 HR and 42 RBI, with a much-improved 128 total hits. Not bad for his 15th year in the league. He played 157 games that year, too, showing that age is just a number for the veteran.
McMillan hurt his shoulder the next season, limiting his playing time to only half the season. He retired shortly after the season. But it wasn't his last stint with the Mets. He actually came back to be a coach and even the interim manager in the 70s.
When Bud Harrelson took the field at shortstop for the New York Mets, he didn’t look like the kind of player who would change the course of a franchise.
He was 5-foot-9 on a generous program listing, skinny as a batboy, with a grin that suggested he’d rather be stirring up trouble than posing for baseball cards. Shea Stadium was full of bigger men with louder reputations.
But Bud had something else — a spark that could set the whole place buzzing.
In 1969, the Mets weren’t supposed to matter. They’d been lovable losers since birth, a punchline in cleats. But that summer, something strange started happening in Queens. The pitching was electric. Tom Seaver painted corners. Jerry Koosman carved up lineups. Cleon Jones sprayed hits. And at shortstop, Bud Harrelson became the nervous system of the infield.
He played like the grass was on fire.
Ground ball up the middle? Bud was there, gliding, backhanding, popping to his feet in one motion. Double-play ball? He fed it to second with a flick so quick it looked like sleight of hand. He wasn’t flashy — no wasted motion, no dramatic leaps unless he had to. Just sharp angles, quick hands, and a confidence that said, this is ours.
In Game 5 of the '69 series, with the Mets on the brink of history, he ranged deep in the hole, fielded a rocket, and threw across his body to first. The out snapped like a firecracker. The crowd roared. It wasn’t just a play — it was a declaration. The Mets weren’t the old Mets anymore.
When the final out settled into Cleon Jones’ glove and the Mets were champions, Bud was in the middle of the pile, cap gone, grin wide as Francis Lewis Boulevard.




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