An excerpt from Field of Screams: the Dark Underside of America’s National Pastime, by Richard Scheinin:
The Cardinals kept throwing at Dodger heads: Reiser, Camilli, Mickey Owen. And the Dodgers kept striking back. Down the ’41 pennant stretch, Brooklyn’s Fat Freddie Fitzsimmons, a seventeen-year veteran who could barely lift his arm, mustered all his strength to buzz one behind the ear of St. Louis slugger Johnny Mize. “Get ready, Picklehead,” Fat Freddy screamed, then threw another at the same spot. “Right at that thick picklehead skull of yours,” he shouted, and did it again. And finally, on a three-two count, Fitzsimmons flipped a lazy curve ball toward Mize, who was so wobbly by this time that he practically fell over as he swung and missed for a third strike. “You picklehead!” stormed Fitzsimmons. “You never could hit me!”
This is the way the Dodgers won the pennant.