FORT MYERS, Fla. – My first season covering spring training was in 1974 as the Twins' beat reporter for the St. Paul newspapers. The Twins were in a state of flux, after the injury-related declines of Tony Oliva and Harmon Killebrew in 1972 and 1973.

Harmon was playing a final season in Minnesota and Tony O. was trying to get by hitting and running with one workable leg. The many surgeries on his right knee had left him with constant agony and a serious limp.

Tony tried every imaginable remedy to lessen the pain. I remember him in the clubhouse applying dry ice directly to the knee – which wasn't good for the skin but might get him through another game serving as the designated hitter.

One memorable moment in the clubhouse came when Tony was rubbing brake fluid on the knee. A young teammate said: "Tony, we don't need something to get you stopped. We need something to get you started.''

Oliva found most everything humorous, but that didn't include one-liners concerning his damaged knee.

The Twins were at Tinker Field in Orlando for spring training then (and through the 1990 season). There was the field inside the aging ballpark. There was also a small field behind the first base line that was called "Iwo Jima'' because of the rocky condition of the infield.

That was it, for acreage to prepare a big-league team.

As the St. Paul beat reporter, I had the privilege of producing copy for both the morning Pioneer Press and the afternoon Dispatch. The Minneapolis Morning Tribune and the afternoon Star were jointly owned but competitors for news, and each had a Twins reporter.

Remember, the daily newspapers were about the only source for information on what was happening with the Twins in spring training at that time. Truth be told these decades later, if there was a spring phenom in Twins camp, it basically was because we created him to have something interesting to write about.

The beat guys would wait for maybe a week of exhibition games, and then we would start speculating on the makeup of the season-opening roster. This would be backed up with quotes from manager Frank Quilici (and later Gene Mauch), or expressions of either hope or disappointment from owner and GM Calvin Griffith.

We would be within three or four names of having the 25-man roster firmed up, but I can't remember having the audacity of writing in mid-March: "This will be the team when the Twins open the season in … (wherever).''

No, that was left to a late arriver: Sid Hartman, the fiery veteran columnist from the Morning Tribune.

It was right about now – March 22nd or so – that the Great Man would arrive. And all of his competitors (me from St. Paul, the beat reporter for the Star, and the beat reporter for his own paper) knew that Sid's first column would be a declaration that THIS was the 25-player roster with which the Twins would open the season in two weeks.

Mr. Hartman would start early in the day by trying to get Griffith to reveal the makeup of the roster. Calvin would tell Hartman what he had been telling the rest of us, that there might still be some moves to be made, but Sid was more relentless and would wrestle more definitive information on a roster spot or two out of the owner.

From there, Sid would go to Howard Fox, a vice president with influence on Calvin. Sid had Howard in his pocket, and he would get a little more roster information out of Foxie.

What we always wondered, as overmatched competitors to Sid (to repeat: this included the beat guy from the Tribune), was how he was able to get that final piece … the 25th man that Fox wasn't sure about and the manager wasn't sure about.

I would express this puzzlement to long-time Twins employees and friends of mine: Tom Mee, the public relations director, and Don Cassidy, the man in charge of all matters of selling tickets.

They would both smirk, as if they had the knowledge, but didn't wish to share Sid's wrath were they to reveal it. I can't remember if it was Tom or Cass, but finally one of them said:

"You still haven't figured out Sid's source? It's Crump.''

That would be Raymond Crump, the long-serving equipment manager.

"Crump?'' I said.

"Yeah, Ray Crump,'' came the answer. "He has to get the uniforms stitched to start the season. He gets the list from Calvin before anyone.''

Four decades later, I don't know what happened to that Hartman fellow, but he was the wiliest sports writer I ever encountered. While we were chasing our tails, he was going to the guy in charge of having new uniforms at the ready for Opening Day.