Hank Aaron has died at age 86. He was the last of the great players of the early 50s. He was an important part of my boyhood. His death is a period to that chapter of my life.
I first became aware of Major League Baseball in the autumn of 1948. My Aunt Nora was listening to the Cleveland Indians - Boston Braves World Series on her radio. As I listened, the announcer made repeated mention of Lou Boudreau and Tommy Holmes. Their names have stuck in my mind all these years.
But my real love of the game began in the early spring of 1949. The Cub game was on, at my grandfather's apartment, and Dutch Leonard was pitching, when the announcer said, "And there's a base hit through the box." A "box" on a baseball field? I asked my dad, "what that meant?" He explained that the pitcher pitched from a "Pitcher's Box" in the early days of baseball. And that in the late 1800s, the "box" was replaced by the "mound." So a "base hit through the box," was a ground ball or line drive that went over the mound and into center field. "Box" was just another term for "mound."
Then, near June 1, 1949, we got our first TV. It had been delivered and the chimney antenna had been hooked up earlier that morning. Dad took the afternoon off work to test it. When he turned it on - without even changing the channel - on came the Cubs' game. The first name I heard was that of Cub outfielder "Peanuts" Lowrey. Then a few days later "Peanuts" was gone - traded to Cincinnati. The Cubs acquired Hank Sauer, in that four-player deal. Sauer went on to hit 27 homers for the Cubs that year, and became my first baseball hero. Of course as a kid I didn't appreciate that "Hammerin' Hank" had the mobility of a printing press in left field.
In 1949, WGN-TV in Chicago broadcast both the Cub and White Sox home games. We watched both, but I preferred the Sox ... until my Dad pointed out that we lived on the north side, and that the Cubs were the northside team. That coupled with the fact that the Sox traded my two favorite Sox players, Guz Zernial and Cass Michaels, caused me to re-prioritize: the Cubs became my favorite; the Sox were relegated to second place! I have to this date remained a "closet-Sox fan!"
In those days there were only eight teams in each league. With all the Cubs and Sox home games on TV, it was easy to learn the names of all the players. At first, the best were two older players: Ted Williams and Stan Musial. But then the post-war stars emerged. Jackie Robinson in 1947; Billy Pierce, Roy Campanella and Robin Roberts in 1948; Whitey Ford, 1950; Willie Mays and Mickey Mantle, 1951; Al Kaline, Ernie Banks and Henry Aaron, 1954; and Roberto Clemente, 1955.
In December 1948, we moved to Lincolnwood, just north of Devon Avenue. At first, there was prairie north of Devon. It was there that we spent our summers. We carved baseball fields on flat ground. We dragged our lawn mowers down to cut the weeds. Our bicycles became the left field wall. We'd play a double header (either baseball or 16" softball), starting at 8 a.m. the day after summer vacation began. We'd take a break for lunch, and then start a second double header around 1:30. Then after dinner, we'd play more ball until dark.
When the summers got too hot to play in the afternoon, we found substituted a table game: "All-Star Baseball." The game contained player disks of the "all-time greats" like Babe Ruth, Hack Wilson, Rogers Hornsby and Ty Cobb, as well as a new set of All- Stars each year. We studied the disks, as well as "Jack Brickhouse's Baseball Record Book," to put the "best possible" teams of hitters on the field. But "ASB" took no account of fielding or pitching. Eventually, we "graduated" to a more sophisticated game called"Big League Manager." Then we discovered"APBA." It was terrific. We spent hours, playing "APBA," while listening either to the Cubs or Sox on TV, or, if they weren't on, to "The Kingston Trio," Johnny Cash, or the "Limeliters."
Dad encouraged us in all this. He believed that "kids who were involved in sports didn't get into trouble." To that end, he supplied balls and bats, footballs, and basketballs, not only for Tom and me, but for the whole neighborhood. I don't think, any other dad, or any other kid ever once supplied a ball over that ten-year period.
And Dad's business had season tickets to the Sox Games. If on a Friday evening, Ford was pitching for the Yankees, and Pierce for the Sox, we'd be at Comiskey Park. The ending was always the same. Around the 8th inning, one of the Yanks would homer to break up the 1-1 tie.
And I can recall being at the 1950 All-Star game at Comiskey Park, when Williams ran into the left field wall and broke his collar bone, and being there again when he returned to the Red Sox lineup late in the season as a pinch hitter. He homered over the corner of the bullpen, to the deepest part of the park.
And I can recall being at Wrigley Field, in the first row of the right field bleachers. My friend "Squid" was taunting Aaron: "Henry, you're a bum!" The very next inning, Aaron belted one over our heads deep into the bleachers. When he returned to his position, "Squid" stood, bowed, and doffed his cap. Aaron smiled.
First Published in the Moline Dispatch and Rock Island Argus on January 27, 2021
Copyright 2021
John Donald O'Shea