Felix Mantilla, a name etched in the annals of baseball and, perhaps more uniquely, in the hearts of those who remember the lovable chaos of the 1962 Mets, passed away this week at the age of 90. Mantilla spent 11 years in the big leagues, but it’s his season with those inaugural Amazin’s that truly solidified his place in the sport’s lore. Sure, that team lost 120 games, but they won something much greater—the eternal affection of fans who valued character over competence. Mantilla, with his dependable glove and a grin that hinted he was in on the joke, embodied that spirit perfectly. He may not have had the flair of Willie Mays or the swagger of Mickey Mantle, but Felix Mantilla had something those guys never did: the resilience to survive Casey Stengel’s lineup roulette and live to tell about it. His passing follows the recent losses of former Mets Jack Dilauro, Rickey Henderson, Lenny Randle, and Mark Bradley, a solemn reminder of how the fabric of Mets history continues to change, one thread at a time.
Felix Mantilla’s path to the big leagues was anything but a walk in the park, unless that park was filled with hurdles and curveballs. After honing his skills in Puerto Rican winter ball with Caguas, where a young second baseman named Henry Aaron was nudged to the outfield (a move that worked out OK, wouldn’t you say?), Mantilla climbed the ladder to the Class A Jacksonville Braves in 1953. Alongside Aaron and Horace Garner, he helped integrate the team and led them to a first-place finish. Life off the field wasn’t as rosy. As Mantilla put it, “Jacksonville wasn’t booing us for bad play—they were booing because we were colored.”
Felix kept his bat hot in the winter leagues, and by 1954 he’d advanced to Triple-A Toledo, where he hit .273 with 16 homers and once drove in eight runs in a single Memorial Day doubleheader. At just 20 years old, Mantilla already looked big-league ready, and by 1956, the Milwaukee Braves came calling.
Spring training manager Charlie Grimm gushed about Mantilla’s defensive skills, calling his hands “some of the best I’ve ever seen.” Felix got the call-up in June, debuting against the Pirates. While his first at-bat was a pop-up, his nerves didn’t last long. He stayed with the Braves that season, hitting a respectable .283 in limited action.
By 1957, Mantilla was a key utility player. He briefly filled in for the injured Red Schoendienst and earned high praise from manager Fred Haney, who said Mantilla was “quick as a cat.” Felix contributed to the Braves’ World Series run, even scoring a key tying run in Game 4 against the Yankees. When the Braves sealed the title in Game 7, Mantilla was on the field for the final out—a memory he would cherish forever.
The following seasons saw Mantilla embrace his versatility, playing everywhere from center field to third base. In 1959, he famously scored the only run in Harvey Haddix’s near-perfect 13-inning game. However, his season ended with a heartbreaker in the pennant-deciding playoff against the Dodgers, when his off-balance throw allowed the winning run to score. Braves skipper Haney defended him, saying Felix did all he could.
By 1960, Mantilla found himself in a crowded infield rotation. With Red Schoendienst fading and younger talent arriving, Felix saw the writing on the wall. When the Mets picked him in the 1961 expansion draft, Mantilla accepted the move with grace. After all, by then he’d seen enough ups and downs to know the game wasn’t just about stats—it was about adapting, surviving, and thriving.
Felix Mantilla’s debut with the 1962 Mets was, let’s just say, an exercise in patience and resilience. Playing regularly for the first time, Mantilla hit a respectable .275, the second-best average on a team where "respectable" was in short supply. The Mets, in their inaugural season, put up a 40-120 record, setting a new benchmark for futility in baseball history." Reflecting on that infamous squad, Mantilla once joked that no one imagined they’d be that bad: "On paper, it didn’t look so awful." Of course, Casey Stengel’s unconventional managerial style didn’t help—Mantilla claimed the old skipper would hand the lineup to the umps, then head to the dugout for a nap. Maybe he couldn’t bear to watch.
After the season, Mantilla was traded to Boston in a multi-player deal that brought Pumpsie Green, Tracy Stallard, and Al Moran to the Mets. Red Sox manager Johnny Pesky was thrilled, seeing Mantilla as a Swiss Army knife for the infield and outfield. Mantilla loved Fenway Park, where the iconic Green Monster apparently made everything—well, greener. Living at the nearby Kenmore Hotel, he settled into Boston life like a pro.
Playing time was scarce in 1963, with Mantilla appearing in only 66 games, but he made the most of it, batting .315. The next year, he became Boston’s go-to utility man, filling in all over the diamond and putting up career-best numbers. His bat came alive with timely hits, including a walk-off homer in May and a two-game, three-homer blitz against Cleveland in June. By mid-August, he had a jaw-dropping 20 home runs. Cleveland manager Birdie Tebbetts credited Mantilla’s swing, fine-tuned for Fenway’s quirks, as the secret behind his power surge.
Mantilla wrapped up 1964 with 30 home runs and a .289 average in just 425 at-bats. Not too shabby for a guy who had hit only 35 homers in the previous eight years. He snagged the Boston Baseball Writers’ Comeback Player of the Year Award, and Red Sox skipper Billy Herman was ready to build the 1965 lineup around him. Mantilla didn’t disappoint, hitting .289 with 92 RBIs and 18 homers, earning his first (and only) All-Star nod as the American League’s starting second baseman.
After the 1965 season, Mantilla was traded to Houston. Unfortunately, an arm injury in spring training hampered his performance. He hit just .219 over 77 games in 1966, but he ended his big-league career with a bang—a home run and a double in the Astros’ season finale at Shea Stadium. That marked his final game in the majors.
Mantilla tried to continue his career in 1967, signing with the Cubs, but a torn Achilles during spring training ended his playing days.
Felix Mantilla’s 11-year major league career saw him evolve from a fresh-faced rookie with the Braves in 1956 to a seasoned utility player with stints on the inaugural 1962 Mets, the Boston Red Sox, and the Houston Astros. Over those years, he hit .261 with 89 home runs and 330 RBIs, a respectable line for a middle infielder who proved his value on and off the field.
Felix Mantilla’s impact on baseball stretched far beyond his 11 seasons in the major leagues. His contributions to the Felix Mantilla Little League in Milwaukee, co-founded in 1972, provided a platform for generations of young athletes and fostered a unique cultural exchange between Milwaukee and his native Isabela, Puerto Rico. Whether he was making a play on the field or creating opportunities for children to experience the game, Mantilla’s influence will endure in the hearts of those he inspired. His resilience on the field and his generosity of spirit off of it cement his place in the history of the game, as well as in the community that loved him.