Tuesday, May 11, 2010
The class and grace of Robin Roberts
Can it be considered an "unnecessary baseball reference" when an entire column is about baseball? I think it can - we've pretty much hit the critical mass for baseball references. From here on out, any union of Outta Leftfield and baseball is unnecessary.
It was in the mid-1990s and Robin Roberts was appearing at an autograph signing event, the proceeds of which would benefit something called the Bottomley-Ruffing-Schalk Baseball Museum in the little central Illinois town of Nokomis, a spot on the map just outside the state capital of Springfield.
The only thing missing from this paragraph is the phrase "I was but a sapling then, green in youth." Are we witnessing the beginning another confusing Morsch lumber down memory lane?
Named after National Baseball Hall of Famers Jim Bottomley, Red Ruffing and Ray Schalk, the museum honors people from the central Illinois area who have contributed to baseball in some significant manner.
Useless information. Let's try again.
Roberts, the Hall of Fame Phillies pitcher, was born in nearby Springfield and would occasionally go back to his hometown area for events such as this one.
We're about a quarter of the way through your column, sir. Time to wrap up the prologue.
The weather was uncomfortably hot that day, like many summer days in central Illinois. The small museum — which lacked air conditioning — couldn’t accommodate the overflowing crowd that a hall of famer, and a local boy at that, had drawn. Fans eager for Roberts’ signature had crowded toward the table where he sat, making it even hotter and more uncomfortable than it already was.
It's laughable to see Morsch, Mr. Beer and Hot Dogs and Guys-Are-Sloppy and Baseball and Three Stooges, trying to actually write something. It's like watching a dog try to do long division.
I had met Mr. Roberts a few times before that day in the museum. At that point in my career, I had no idea I would move from central Illinois to the Philadelphia area and would have many more occasions to be in his company and interview him for stories I was writing.
We've covered this absolutely unremarkable fact before. Wow, you moved somewhere that you heard of before. I recently moved to Quakertown. Who would have thought?
Like that day in Illinois, Mr. Roberts always handled himself with grace and class, even under trying circumstances.
Even though it was a hot day, Robin Roberts still showed up at a public event. They really broke the mold when they made him.
He signed every autograph request, and it became quite a windfall for the tiny museum out in the middle of nowhere. I remember thinking at the time that the ex-player was the epitome of grace under pressure.
A kind and generous thing to do, no doubt. But really? THIS is the story you choose to highlight someone's apparently legendary class and grace?
Once I moved out here, Mr. Roberts would occasionally show up in the Ambler area, mostly in October for a golf outing at Limekiln Golf Course, owned by another Whiz Kid, Curt Simmons. Although I’m not a golfer, there were a few occasions before tee-off where I got sit in the golf course clubhouse and listen to some baseball stories.
What is he doing, just camping out in the clubhouse and hoping that a former baseball player will walk in? Roberts probably dreaded the days when his peaceful round of golf would be disrupted by some loitering oaf. Did the newspaper know how Morsch was spending his time?
I crossed paths again with Mr. Roberts at the National Constitution Center in 2008 when it hosted a traveling exhibit from the National Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown. It was there that I got a chance to interview him for a story on the exhibit that appeared in Montgomery Newspapers.
This is a truly pathetic "chain" of "events." What's left out is that there are probably, like, ten years between these meetings. I saw a Maynard Ferguson concert when I was in 5th Grade. I crossed paths with him again at a concert when I was a junior in high school. He showed grace and class by showing up to both events. Maybe I should write my own column...
His baseball career ended in the mid-1960s and I never got a chance to see him pitch. But he was a hall of famer in every sense of the word, especially off the field. Never in the dozen or so times I was in his company did he have a cross word for anybody or refuse an autograph request.
Except after Morsch left, when Mr. Roberts would invariably remark, "Who IS that fat, stupid bastard?" And I'm still trying to figure out the "he was a hall of famer... especially off the field." As though his 286 wins and his 305 complete games have nothing to do with it. No, they let him in because he's a nice guy and they figured he'd probably sign a lot of autographs in the future.
Robin Roberts died last week in his Florida home at age 83. He was a first-class player and a first-class human being. Not only was he one of my favorite baseball players, he’s one of my favorite people of all time.
Ooh, the kicker! Robin Roberts was a nice guy, and guess what? He's DEAD. I really enjoy the superlative "he's one of my favorite people of all time" bit. Right up there with Jesus, George Washington and Thomas Edison, no doubt. It reminds me of that old Chris Farley bit on SNL when he'd interview a celebrity and say stuff like, "Tonight my guest is Jeff Daniels, one of the greatest actors... around I guess?"
Only the good die young, except for the ones who live to be really old.
Labels: " Outta Leftfield, Mike Morsch, Montgomery Newspapers, National Baseball Hall of Fame, Robin Roberts
Not just the Baseball Hall of Fame, mind you - the National Baseball Hall of Fame. Also, please note the " before the Outta Leftfield label. Is this a typo? Whatever it is, it's screwing up his labels... two columns now appear only under "Outta Leftfield.
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