Tommy Helms didn't just play baseball; he lived the grind of the game in a way that feels like a lost art. Honestly, if you look at the stats today, you might see a .269 lifetime average and think "decent." But you'd be missing the entire point of why this man is a Cincinnati icon. He was the glue.
He was the guy who won the Rookie of the Year in 1966 and later found himself steering the ship when the biggest scandal in baseball history broke.
Why Tommy Helms Still Matters to Baseball History
Helms passed away in April 2025 at the age of 83, leaving behind a legacy that is basically a roadmap of 1960s and 70s National League grit. He wasn't a power hitter—34 home runs over 14 seasons tells you that much. Instead, he was a master of the "little things." He struck out only 301 times in nearly 5,000 at-bats. Think about that for a second. Today, some guys hit that mark in two seasons. Helms made contact. He moved runners. He didn't beat himself.
Most fans remember him as a second baseman, but his 1966 Rookie of the Year campaign was a total fluke of positioning. He was a natural shortstop. But the Reds had Leo Cárdenas at short and Pete Rose at second. The team tried moving Rose to third, but Pete hated it. So, Helms—who had never played the position—was tossed over to third base.
He didn't complain. He just went out and hit .284, fielded like a wizard, and took home the hardware.
The Big Red Machine’s Missing Link
There’s this weird historical footnote about Helms. He was the "first" for a lot of things. He hit the very first Reds home run at Riverfront Stadium on July 1, 1970. But he also became the sacrificial lamb for the greatest era in franchise history.
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In late 1971, the Reds sent Helms, Lee May, and Jimmy Stewart to the Houston Astros. In return, they got a guy named Joe Morgan.
It was a blockbuster. It was the trade that officially built the "Big Red Machine." While Morgan went on to win MVPs and World Series rings, Helms spent his prime years in Houston, playing spectacular defense but missing out on the championship glory in Cincinnati. It’s one of those "what if" scenarios that sports fans love to argue about over a beer.
Would the Reds have won without Morgan? Probably not. Did it hurt Helms to watch from afar? He never really showed it. He just kept turning double plays. In 1971, he set a Reds record with 130 double plays. That record stood for years because his pivot was lightning fast.
Managing Through the Pete Rose Chaos
Life has a funny way of coming full circle. Helms returned to Cincinnati in the 80s as a coach. He was there when his old friend Pete Rose was chasing Ty Cobb’s record. He was also there when the wheels fell off.
When Rose was suspended for 30 days in 1988 for shoving an umpire, Helms took the manager’s seat. Then came 1989. The gambling investigation was a dark cloud over the clubhouse. When Rose was finally banned for life by Commissioner A. Bartlett Giamatti in August, it was Helms who had to walk into that dugout and keep a shell-shocked team focused.
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He managed 64 games across those two seasons. He wasn't a "tactical genius" or a "disruptor." He was just Tommy. The players respected him because he’d been in the dirt with them. Todd Benzinger, who played for him, once said the team could "save a lot of grief" just by hiring him permanently. They didn't—they went with Lou Piniella in 1990—but Helms’ steady hand kept the franchise from a total meltdown during its darkest hour.
A Career Defined by Consistency
If you want to understand the "Helms way," look at his strikeout ratio.
- 1966: 31 strikeouts in 542 at-bats.
- 1973: 21 strikeouts in 565 at-bats.
That is insane. He was the second-hardest player to strike out in the league for a long stretch. He didn't have the "look" of a modern athlete—he had that classic 70s style, complete with the permed red hair and thick sideburns you see on his 1977 Topps card. But he was a professional's professional.
Even his final years in the game were about teaching. He managed in the minor leagues for the Charlotte Knights and eventually the Atlantic City Surf. He was a baseball lifer in the truest sense. He didn't need the spotlight; he just needed a uniform.
What Fans Often Get Wrong About Helms
People tend to lump him in as just "the guy traded for Joe Morgan." That's a massive disservice. Helms was a two-time All-Star (1967 and 1968) and a two-time Gold Glove winner (1970 and 1971).
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He was arguably the best defensive second baseman in the National League before Morgan arrived. He led the league in putouts and assists multiple times. He wasn't just a placeholder; he was a star in his own right.
Key Takeaways for Baseball Historians
If you are researching the 1960s/70s era or just trying to understand the DNA of the Cincinnati Reds, keep these points in mind:
- Versatility was his weapon. Moving from shortstop to third to second base without a drop in defensive quality is something few players can pull off today.
- The Trade was about chemistry, not just talent. The Reds needed Morgan’s speed and OBP, but they gave up an elite defender and clubhouse leader to get it.
- His loyalty was unmatched. Despite being traded away, he returned to the organization and served as its emotional anchor during the 1989 crisis.
- Stats don't tell the whole story. A .269 average in the "Pitcher’s Era" of the late 60s was much more valuable than it looks on a spreadsheet today.
Next time you’re at Great American Ball Park, take a second to look for his name in the Reds Hall of Fame. He was inducted in 1979, a year before the Big Red Machine core started joining him. He belonged there. He was a bridge between the old-school Reds and the legends that redefined the game.
To truly appreciate Tommy Helms, you have to look past the box score. You have to look at the double plays, the lack of strikeouts, and the way he handled the manager's office when the world was watching Pete Rose. That's where the real story is.