This Sunday, the baseball Hall of Fame will welcome its induction class of 2022. Seven former players will be inshrined in Cooperstown, New York. Of those seven I can say that I've had interaction with four of them. I consider myself incredibly fortunate to have had these interactions and thought I'd take a few moments to share some with you.
On my first visit to Kansas City my late wife Bryn and I visited the Negro Leagues Hall of Fame Museum located in the city's 18th & Vine section of town. It was a thrill for myself to see photographs and actual footage of these pioneers in the league who were barred from participating in the major leagues simply because of their race. The displays were great and I learned a great deal during our visit. As we were getting near the end of the self-guided tour we heard a very familiar voice coming from the area of the gift shop just down the hallway. We each looked at each other and in unison said, "He's here!"
"He" would be one John Jordan "Buck" O'Neil. A former player in the Negro Leagues. Having seen "Ken Burns Baseball" on PBS not too long before this day we were ecstatic with the possibility of meeting the man in person. We made our way toward the gift shop and there he was. It was mid afternoon on a weekday so there weren't very many people in the gift shop, but we slowly moved towards mr. O'Neil and listened like little kids as he waxed rhapsodic about some of his experiences back in the day. We went over to look at some of the items for sale in the shop and each picked up a commemorative baseball with the intent of having Buck sign them for us. This meeting took place, sadly, before the advent of the cell phone, so we have no photos to document the moment. But we approached him and kindly asked for him to sign each our baseballs for us. He graciously did so with that incredible smile and we left with the thought that we'd "caught lightning in a bottle" in the fact that we'd seen him in person. He went on to work tirelessly to have Negro League players inducted to the hall. When there was a special ballot in 2006 for Negro league players, managers and executives 17 of those figures were selected but somehow he himself was not. Later that year O'Neil passed away at the age of 94 due to heart failure. But meeting man himself was surely one of my greatest meetings ever.
David Ortiz came to the Minnesota Twins on September 13, 1996 from the Seattle Mariners. He was essentially traded for a third baseman named Dave Hollins as part of an earlier transaction. I'd become a full-time front office employee of the Twins in February of 1996. Before that i'd been on the fan relations staff which allowed me to have some occasional contact with the players. Hollins is without a doubt the most despicable player I ever dealt with. He might just as well have worn a blaze orange t-shirt with "I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE" in large letters on it. So when I heard that he'd been dispatched to the great Northwest I was certainly pleased. He wasn't known as David Ortiz then. He was actually known as David Arias, Arias being his maternal family name. Ortiz is his paternal family name.
Ortiz had great power and showed it early in his time with the Twins. He was slated to be their first baseball for 1998 but fractured his wrist in May of that year. My very first interaction with him came in July of 1998. It was a game night and he stopped by my office which was just down the hall from the Twins locker room. His English was nowhere near what you hear from him today own Fox Sports. But he came in the door and told me that he was being sent to Triple-A Salt Lake and he needed to know where they were currently playing on the road. For some reason I had a pocket schedule for the Buzz in my desk drawer. Rather than try to explain to him where he would need to be traveling to I just handed it to him after showing him where on the calendar were currently were. He was incredibly grateful and he told me that a couple of years later when he came back to the big club. the Twins ran our of patience with his productivity and he was released at the end of the 2002 season.
The Boston Red Sox signed him as a free agent before the 2003 season. And the rest, as they say, is history. "Big Papi" was born in Beantown. One of the funniest things I've ever read in Sports Illustrated was penned by comedian Seth Meyers, who on January 23, 2003 wrote: "We just signed some guy named David Ortiz. I was excited until I saw he was RELEASED BT THE TWINS!!!!!! WTF are the Sox doing signing a guy who was RELEASED BY THE TWINS?! It's time to admit we're going to die without ever seeing the Red Sox win a World Series. i'm done with baseball. I'm going to use the free time to learn French. Au revoir."
The Red Sox went on to win three World Series with Ortiz becoming one to the greatest designated hitters in the history of the game. I was working at the airport one evening and the Sox were leaving town that night on a charter. I was working the checkpoint that night and recognized some of the players. He saw me and came over and gave me a huge hug which nearly took most of my available breath away. My co-workers were stunned and I just told them that we'd known each other before he was Big Papi. So to see him honored in this way is very cool because I really DID know him when not many had. Bravo, my friend. Bravo.
My best times with Jim Kaat would have to have been in the Twins dining room at the Metrodome. My office was on the other side of the wall of the dining room. So on game nights I would often head around the corner and grab a seat in the back corner with some of the announcers and other media folk. It would look the same every night except for some of the media personnel from the visiting team would change depending on the opponent. Bob Casey would bring his grumpy self into the room and write the starting lineups on the chalkboard on the wall. No dry erase board for Bob, he was old school. Chalk. Eraser. Mission accomplished. But on the nights when "Kitty" was at my table I was all ears. He told so many great stories about his career, not only with the Twins, but with the other teams he hurled for. He was like listening to an audio track of a documentary. Those of you who know me know how much of a documentary junkie I really am. To see him go to the hall is a thrill as well because he's so humble and a genuinely kind human being. He was a great of the game. He always treated me well and I appreciate that so very much.
Finally, a bit about Tony Oliva. Tony Oliva turned 84 years of age this week.........or DID he?
When I think of Tony I flash back to two different experiences in my baseball past.
In addition to my normal 9-5 shift I would often work as an usher's supervisor during games. I would often wear a suit during the games to at least look like I had some authority. But anyone who knows me knows that I'm more comfortable in a suit than anything other than a baseball uniform.
As a front office employee I had access to "house seats" for myself and/or guests to use at each home game. One weekend evening my wife had use of my tickets and she was seated near the top of section 125 at the Metrodome which was directly behind home plate. The seat next to her was open at a time when I was near this section and so I took a seat for a short spell. I was seated in an aisle seat and a gentleman approached me as he ascended the steps to my left. He extended a new baseball toward me along with a pen. I said to him, "Who do you think I am?" He smiled and said, "You're Tony Oliva, right?" Now I don't really look much like Tony other than skin tone, although I DO slightly resemble his son, Pedro. I leaned forward and told him that I wasn't Tony but that Tony WAS seated directly behind me, which he really was. I stood up so that he could use the space to chat with the man himself and went back to work in the concourses.
But my favorite memory took place without a game going on at the time.
It was 22 years ago this week. About four or five of us front office employees were sitting in an office in the marketing/promotions area of the offices at the Dome. When I walked in the group was watching some of Tony's "greatest hits" on VHS videotape. (You youngsters may need to Google that term). We all were amazed at how great a hitter he really was. We wondered what he could have done if he'd played during the astroturf era.
Minutes later the man himself walked through the door. We knew he was in the building and would be joining us shortly. So after we all greeted the should-be Hall of Famer someone in the room asked him a couple of questions. I wish I could remember exactly who it was, but I'd only be guessing. "Tony, if you had played during the astroturf era would you have been able to hit .400?" After a short pause he said, "Oh yeah. I could have." We all chuckled at his confidence level on this topic. But the funniest moment of his visit was yet to come.
Someone said, "Tony, we know your birthday is this week. The Star Tribune said you were going to turn 62 but the media guide says you're going to be 63. So, what year were you born?" So the room got totally silent. Now, due to a paperwork switch at Tony's arrival in the U.S. to reflect the name and birthdate of his younger brother Pedro Jr. in order to appear younger to major league scouts, many newspapers reported the 21-year-old Tony as his 18-year-old sibling.
So after a few seconds of contemplating the question he replies to us by asking in his unmistakable latin accent, "What year is good for you?" The room totally broke out in hysterical laughter, because I don't believe any of us had anticipated such a response.
Tony remained my choice for the most-deserving major league player who has yet to be voted into the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown. He had a career average of .304, won the rookie of the year award, won three batting titles and was an 8-time all star. I only hoped that this changed and especially while he is able to enjoy the induction. And on Sunday it WILL change as he gets his due.
So there's my take on some of the inductees who are getting there just rewards in Cooperstown on Sunday afternoon. As I often tell some people, "Most of life is timing". And my fortunate timing has had me cross paths these four baseball greats.
Some have said I'm kinda like a sports version of Forrest Gump. I believe there may be a book in there somewhere. If that happens, I'll make sure you all know about it.
I'm just sayin'
