Stan Musial, one of baseball’s greatest players of all time, died last Saturday at the age of 92. He was also a great human being. I grew up a Philadelphia Phillies fan. Robin Roberts, the great Phillies pitcher, was a boyhood hero. Roberts is quoted in this tribute to the late Stan Musial, popularly know, as the story tells, as “Stan the Man”.
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Gordon, Richie Ashburn!!!! The name alone gave me shivers. He was another of my heroes. I was actually a good hitter as a boy, but style was as important as performance. I had to wear my ball cap exactly the right way, my pants had to be at the exact right height. In the on-deck circle, I had to stand casually, leaning on the bat, just like Mickey Mantle (even though he was a Yankee). I died when the Yanks beat out my Orioles in the last week of the season!
When I was a boy we played ball in our backyard. The guys and a girl named Dede Kay (by far the best hitter in town) would play pick-up games there on Church Road. The Little League field was built next to our yard. I hadn’t reached my 8th birthday when I started Little League. My second year Dickie McBride, the catcher, moved away. The coach asked who wanted to try catching. Nobody other than I stepped up. From that day on I was the starting catcher of The Big As. We sound a lot alike in terms of the precision and love of the game. My heart was also broken when the Phillies crashed at the end of the season to lose the pennant in 1964, my first year of seminary. Lost 11 games in a row! Only thing worse than your Orioles experience that season or my Phillies experience would be to be a Cubs fan.
Especially the less sanguine among us and, in this case, those who love the history of baseball and its wonderful characters. My favorite was Roy Campanella. the Brooklyn Dodgers catcher whose career was ended by a car accident that left him paralyzed. But Musial was always somehow in a class by himself as an exemplary gentleman. As the tribune says, he was never thrown out of a ballgame…ever. He apparently just bit his lip and went back to the locker room to work it out on his harmonica.
Dennis, he was a rare one. Didn’t really look the part to me as a child, but I trembled every time he came to the plate. I love his uncharacteristic response to Yogi Berra’s weariness. He usually spoke with his bat…and his harmonica, and a great smile. Dennis, what was your team as a boy?
Gordon, my first glove was a Stan Musial! I remember rubbing the oil into the glove, putting a ball into the right spot and then tying it into place to shape it properly. My father used a magnifying glass to burn my name into the side of the glove (one of my favorite memories ever). It came out like it was machine printed, so perfect.
As far as my team, when I selected one (free to do so because we moved so much) it was the Baltimore Orioles.
His batting stance – for years I modeled my own after his – feet close together, rear foot slightly to the outside, leaning over and peaking around my inside shoulder. Later years I started copying Johnny Unitas – walking around with the famed Johnny Unitas slouch. You can imagine how that offended my soldier father!
I can only imagine what the slouch did to your father and don’t want to go there. My various stances, all unsuccessful, were modeled after Richie Ashburn, Del Ennis, Eddie Matthews, Harry (“the Horse) Anderson, Mickey Mantle, Yogi Berra, Duke Snider, Roy Campanella. I became a Little League catcher at the age of eight. Campanella was my hero from that time on. Every year, it seemed, except for 1950, I cheered for Campy and the rest of the Brooklyn Bums to knock of Yogi and the Yankee imperialists. Now I couldn’t throw a baseball back to the pitcher, let alone to second base. And, as for the swing, I made the mistake of going to a batting cage five years ago. Didn’t put the wood on a single pitch! In sports, age does not have its privileges.
Stan Musial, one of baseball’s greatest players of all time, died last Saturday at the age of 92. He was also a great human being. I grew up a Philadelphia Phillies fan. Robin Roberts, the great Phillies pitcher, was a boyhood hero. Roberts is quoted in this tribute to the late Stan Musial, popularly know, as the story tells, as “Stan the Man”.
Views from the Edge 
Hey There. I discovered your weblog the use of msn.
That is an extremely neatly written article.
I will make sure to bookmark it and return to read extra of your useful info.
Thanks for the post. I will definitely comeback.
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Gordon, Richie Ashburn!!!! The name alone gave me shivers. He was another of my heroes. I was actually a good hitter as a boy, but style was as important as performance. I had to wear my ball cap exactly the right way, my pants had to be at the exact right height. In the on-deck circle, I had to stand casually, leaning on the bat, just like Mickey Mantle (even though he was a Yankee). I died when the Yanks beat out my Orioles in the last week of the season!
LikeLike
When I was a boy we played ball in our backyard. The guys and a girl named Dede Kay (by far the best hitter in town) would play pick-up games there on Church Road. The Little League field was built next to our yard. I hadn’t reached my 8th birthday when I started Little League. My second year Dickie McBride, the catcher, moved away. The coach asked who wanted to try catching. Nobody other than I stepped up. From that day on I was the starting catcher of The Big As. We sound a lot alike in terms of the precision and love of the game. My heart was also broken when the Phillies crashed at the end of the season to lose the pennant in 1964, my first year of seminary. Lost 11 games in a row! Only thing worse than your Orioles experience that season or my Phillies experience would be to be a Cubs fan.
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Thanks for this, Gordon. What a refreshing story! And we do need refreshing, don’t we … ?
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Especially the less sanguine among us and, in this case, those who love the history of baseball and its wonderful characters. My favorite was Roy Campanella. the Brooklyn Dodgers catcher whose career was ended by a car accident that left him paralyzed. But Musial was always somehow in a class by himself as an exemplary gentleman. As the tribune says, he was never thrown out of a ballgame…ever. He apparently just bit his lip and went back to the locker room to work it out on his harmonica.
LikeLike
Gordon, Stan the Man was one of my favorites as well. Thanks for the tribute.
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Dennis, he was a rare one. Didn’t really look the part to me as a child, but I trembled every time he came to the plate. I love his uncharacteristic response to Yogi Berra’s weariness. He usually spoke with his bat…and his harmonica, and a great smile. Dennis, what was your team as a boy?
LikeLike
Gordon, my first glove was a Stan Musial! I remember rubbing the oil into the glove, putting a ball into the right spot and then tying it into place to shape it properly. My father used a magnifying glass to burn my name into the side of the glove (one of my favorite memories ever). It came out like it was machine printed, so perfect.
As far as my team, when I selected one (free to do so because we moved so much) it was the Baltimore Orioles.
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Dennis, Question: what do you suppose drew you to Musial out of all the other great players?
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His batting stance – for years I modeled my own after his – feet close together, rear foot slightly to the outside, leaning over and peaking around my inside shoulder. Later years I started copying Johnny Unitas – walking around with the famed Johnny Unitas slouch. You can imagine how that offended my soldier father!
LikeLike
I can only imagine what the slouch did to your father and don’t want to go there. My various stances, all unsuccessful, were modeled after Richie Ashburn, Del Ennis, Eddie Matthews, Harry (“the Horse) Anderson, Mickey Mantle, Yogi Berra, Duke Snider, Roy Campanella. I became a Little League catcher at the age of eight. Campanella was my hero from that time on. Every year, it seemed, except for 1950, I cheered for Campy and the rest of the Brooklyn Bums to knock of Yogi and the Yankee imperialists. Now I couldn’t throw a baseball back to the pitcher, let alone to second base. And, as for the swing, I made the mistake of going to a batting cage five years ago. Didn’t put the wood on a single pitch! In sports, age does not have its privileges.
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Question: Looking back, why do you suppose your were drawn to Musial among all the great players of his era?
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