Roy White was a steady presence on Yankees teams during an era when the franchise was not at its best, part of the group that helped it return to greatness. For 15 seasons, beginning in September 1965, White was known for playing hard and providing consistency at the plate and in the field.

During his decade and a half in pinstripes, the outfielder batted .271 with 160 home runs and 758 RBIs, earning All-Star selections in 1969 and 1970. White played a pivotal role in the team’s success during the late ’70s. He batted .286 with a league-leading 104 runs scored in the Yankees’ pennant-winning season of 1976, and after getting just two at-bats in the Yankees’ 1977 World Series triumph over the Dodgers, he made his presence known the following October.

In Game 163 of the ’78 season -- a one-game tiebreaker at Fenway Park to determine the AL East champion -- White singled with one out in the seventh inning, setting the stage for Bucky Dent’s dramatic three-run homer that lifted the Yankees over the Red Sox. Then, with Game 4 of the American League Championship Series tied, 1-1, White hit a sixth-inning home run against Kansas City that gave the Yankees the lead for good in that clinching game.

The Southern California native, who spent much of his childhood in Compton, returned to Los Angeles with the ’78 Yanks for a second consecutive World Series against the Dodgers. This time around, White started every game, finishing the Fall Classic with a .333 average and one home run.

The 79-year-old recently authored Roy White: From Compton to the Bronx with Paul Semendinger. In the autobiography, White details everything from his childhood to the three seasons he spent in Japan playing for the Yomiuri Giants. Earlier this summer, White sat down with Yankees Magazine editor-in-chief Alfred Santasiere III at Il Fresco restaurant in Orangeburg, New York, to discuss his life and playing career.

Yankees Magazine: What compelled you to write your autobiography?

Roy White: I’ve been asked to do books many times prior to doing this one. In all of those instances, the publishers wanted me to do a tell-all type of book. I never wanted to do that, and I turned down a lot of opportunities. Last year, I was doing a podcast, and Paul Semendinger reached out and asked if I would do an autobiography. After thinking about it for a week and talking to him about what I would want to write, I felt like this was the right time to do it. It gave me the chance to leave something behind for my children and my grandchildren. This book is intended to inspire young players coming up, to help them realize that they can attain their goals.

YM: What was it like to essentially reflect on your whole life over a span of a few months?

RW: I enjoyed it because I felt like I had a unique story. The title, From Compton to the Bronx, came to me immediately. But I’m realizing that there were stories that I forgot to put in the book. I just remembered one today about Thurman Munson.

YM: Well, this can be a Yankees Magazine exclusive. Would you share the story about Thurman with our readers?

RW: On a weekend game in 1976 at Yankee Stadium, we were losing to the Angels, 8-0. It was a really hot day, and Frank Tanana was pitching against us. I made the last out in the bottom of the eighth inning, and after the top of the ninth, I went straight to the clubhouse and started taking off my uniform. Thurman made the first out of the ninth, and he came right into the clubhouse and started taking off his uniform. But the next two guys got hits, and by that time, Thurman was in the shower. Before we knew it, we had scored three runs, and I was counting the number of hitters before I was going to have to bat. I started to get dressed again, and just as I was done, it was my turn in the order. I ran into the dugout, grabbed my helmet and hit the first pitch out to tie the game. We ended up playing 11 innings, but we lost, 11-8. After it was finally over, Thurman said, “We played 11 innings in 95-degree heat, and I went 0-for-6. Can’t you hit a game-winner next time?”

YM: Going back a while, you certainly had to deal with some adversity during your childhood in Compton. How would you describe your earliest years?

RW: I was from a mixed marriage; my father was white, and my mother was Black. I had polio, but luckily, my grandmother recognized the symptoms right away, helping me to avoid paralysis. I was able to get treated right away, but I was in the hospital for three months. My parents got divorced, and after moving about five times around the Los Angeles area, I ended up in Compton when I was about 10 years old. That’s when baseball really came into the picture for me. I watched the Game of the Week, and since we couldn’t afford baseball equipment, my friends and I invented our own way of playing the game. We put a rag into a sock and tied it into a ball.

YM: What was the competition like on the diamonds of Compton?

RW: Fantastic. It was a hotbed of baseball, and by the time I was in high school, there were always scouts at our games. I knew that I was a top-level guy by the time I was 14; I was already playing against kids who were 18 or 19. At one point during my career with the Yankees, Ron Woods and Lenny Randle, both from Compton, were my teammates, and there were a bunch of other guys in the league from there.

YM: What about the violence that you had to deal with in your neighborhood? How did that play into your life?

RW: I knew that I wasn’t going to be in a gang. I was mature for my age, and that just came naturally. I knew that I wanted to be a professional baseball player, and I knew that if I got involved with the gangs, that was not going to happen. But people were getting stabbed and beat up for no reason all around me. I remember one night when my sister and I walked one of her friends back to her house, and a few guys came up behind us and just pushed me to the ground. I hit the concrete, jumped up and started running. My sister did the same thing, but her friend didn’t make it out. These guys beat her up badly; she was in the hospital for about a month with a concussion and broken bones.

YM: It seemed like your ticket out of Compton came in the form of a Yankees scout who showed up at your doorstep. Was there any trepidation in accepting the $6,000 contract offer from Tuffy Hashem?

RW: I had just gotten an offer to play at UCLA, so I almost didn’t sign with the Yankees. Through the grapevine, other scouts found out that I was intent on going to school, and that’s why they didn’t try to sign me. But I saw guys that I had come up with signing for between $20,000 and $50,000, so when I got a $6,000 offer, it was kind of disappointing. I reached out to a few of my coaches, and they told me to take it. They felt like it was my opportunity, my chance, to be a big league ballplayer. I accepted the contract -- of which only $2,000 was guaranteed. I found out later that Tuffy had given me that contract without asking for permission from the Yankees. The Yankees literally got my contract in the mail, and they didn’t even know who I was. That’s why Tuffy didn’t offer me a lot of money; he figured that for $2,000, they would let it slide.

YM: What was your first professional baseball experience, in Haines City, Florida, like for you in 1962?

RW: I hadn’t even thought about the race implications down in Florida when I signed the contract. I remember getting to the Minor League complex on the first day; there were guys at every position who were stars in their respective cities. When we started playing games, I was able to hit the ball consistently, and that felt good. One day, I was talking to a Black player from Oakland, and he asked me where I was sleeping every night. I told him that I was at the Haines City Hotel, where I thought everyone was at. He told me that I wasn’t supposed to be there because that hotel was “white only.” But nothing happened to me there; probably because I was pretty light-skinned. My next stop was in Greensboro, North Carolina, and that’s where I really began to learn about what was going on in the South in the ’60s. When I arrived there, I had to wait on the bus until a taxi arrived to pick me up and drive me to the other side of the tracks, where I would be staying with a Black family.

YM: You made your big league debut a few years later. What stands out the most from that Sept. 7, 1965, doubleheader in the Bronx?

RW: I was surprised by the callup because I was in Double-A that season. I remember seeing my own locker and putting on a Yankees uniform for the first time. For the first few innings of the first game, I was just sitting in the dugout and soaking it all in, watching a Major League game with 30,000 people in the seats. Then, in the seventh, Johnny Keane told me to grab a bat. Elston Howard walked over to me and told me what to expect from the pitcher. I got a fastball and hit it up the middle for my first hit.

YM: You started the second game of that doubleheader.

RW: Yes, I played second base in that game. I got a single and a double. When I came around and scored, Mickey Mantle walked up to me and said, “Hey kid, there’s nothing to this game, is there?” I will never forget that.

YM: What was your take on George Steinbrenner purchasing the team in 1973?

RW: I knew that we had a guy who was going to do something about the fate of the Yankees. He was going to make things happen. When George got here and told us that he was going to bring us back to the World Series, it was good to hear. He didn’t waste any time. We were finally trading for guys who could make the team better. During the CBS years, we were only trading for guys who were on their last legs.

YM: Things really began to turn around for the Yankees in 1976. How would you describe the chemistry on that team?

RW: It was great. We all liked each other, and we had a lot of tough competitors. We had some unique personalities; there were a lot of guys who had a good sense of humor. Sparky Lyle loved to pull pranks on his teammates, and Lou Piniella was really funny. We had just acquired Mickey Rivers, and that meant that I would get to hit second in the lineup. I had to hit cleanup for several years before that because they didn’t have anyone better to hit behind Mickey Mantle. But when Billy Martin put Mickey Rivers in the leadoff spot and me behind him in ’76, I knew that we were going to have a lot of fun. We had Thurman Munson and Chris Chambliss batting behind us, and we were getting on base and into scoring position a lot.

YM: After a dramatic American League Championship Series against the rival Kansas City Royals, the Yankees finally made it back to the World Series for the first time since 1964, only to get swept by the Cincinnati Reds. What kind of unique experiences did you have that October?

RW: The first thing that was unique for me was the weather. It was really cold in Cincinnati -- 39 degrees for Game 1 -- and it’s never fun to play baseball in that kind of weather. But we were in the World Series, and we were playing against the team I grew up rooting for. We didn’t really have a chance to come down from the excitement of Chambliss’ home run that clinched the ALCS though. We were in Cincinnati a day after the ALCS, and I think that we needed a few more days to gather ourselves for the World Series. I’m not sure if we would have beat the Big Red Machine, but I don’t think we would have gotten swept if we had a little more time to prepare.

YM: Did the 1977 season have a different feel than previous seasons?

RW: Definitely. It wasn’t as much fun as the 1976 season. We had a better vibe in ’76. There were more outside things that were disturbing in 1977. Getting the chance to go back home to Los Angeles and play the Dodgers in the World Series was going to be really exciting, but it turned out not to be because I didn’t play that much. In retrospect, I should have enjoyed the moment more, even though Billy decided not to put me in the lineup during that World Series.

YM: So when Bob Lemon took over, how satisfying was it to play such a big role in the 1978 postseason?

RW: It’s great to come through in those types of games. Playing that well in the playoffs and then in the World Series, there was nothing like it. Being able to do it in 1978 was retribution for the previous October. It’s something that I can always think back on and feel good about.

YM: How focused were you on making the most of that Fall Classic against the Dodgers?

RW: Being back in L.A. for the World Series, and being in the lineup and playing in front of my parents, was great. It started off rough; we lost the first two games. But we had some real gamers on that team. We had come back from a 14-game deficit during the regular season, and we had depth. Reggie Jackson was a great asset to the team that year; he always came up big when it mattered.

YM: How would you describe Thurman Munson?

RW: Well, our lockers were next to each other from the first day he got called up, and that started a friendship that lasted the whole time we were teammates. He wasn’t overwhelmed with being in New York. He had all of the leadership qualities you could ever imagine, and the pitchers respected him more than any other catcher. He was a great guy and a great family man. He always used to tell me that when he wanted to have a great meal on the road, I was the guy he would go out with.

YM: What was the best restaurant that you and Thurman dined at?

RW: An old-fashioned steakhouse in the Pfister Hotel in Milwaukee. It’s not still there, but he and I always used to go there when we were in town to play the Brewers.

YM: What was it like not only to play professional baseball in Japan, but also to do so for the country’s most famous team, Tokyo’s Yomiuri Giants?

RW: It was very frightening. I felt enormous pressure because the expectations on me were very high. I wanted to show that entire country that I was a good ballplayer. The reporters were always asking me to talk about how many home runs I was going to hit, and I tried to downplay it. After hitting two home runs on Opening Day, that was hard to do. The experience during the first month I was there was all about adjusting. I didn’t speak the language and didn’t know where to eat or what to order. But I started to figure things out pretty quickly. Playing for the Giants was incredible; they are the team of Japan.

YM: How popular are the Giants in Japan compared to the Yankees in the United States?

RW: The Yankees are beloved in America, but there are a lot of people who root against them as well. I would estimate that about 70 percent of the baseball fans in Japan support the Giants. I have never seen anything like that. When we played an exhibition game up in Sapporo, there were 20,000 people surrounding our hotel. The police force had to make a path for us to get into the hotel.

YM: Once you achieved your dream of making it to the big leagues, what drove you to have success over such a long period of time?

RW: My drive as a ballplayer came from the thought that I have to be able to do all of the little things for me to survive as a big leaguer. I wanted the manager to always want me in the lineup because I could bunt, hit behind a runner, hit the sacrifice fly, get on base, and most importantly, be a winning player. That was my credo. That’s what motivated me.

This interview has been edited for clarity and length.

Alfred Santasiere III is the editor-in-chief of Yankees Magazine. This story appears in the August 2023 edition. Get more articles like this delivered to your doorstep by purchasing a subscription to Yankees Magazine at www.yankees.com/publications.