Today would have been Frank Robinson’s 84th birthday. He is the only player to have been named Most Valuable Player in both leagues. (National League – 1961; American League – 1966) Frank was the first black manager in major league history. He was named to the All-Star team 14 times.

For me, his legacy is that he was my favorite baseball player growing up in Baltimore and incredibly, improbably I later worked with him while with the Orioles. He and I became friends and he grew to respect my baseball knowledge and acumen. I wrote about this story on his birthday last year, but it bears repeating. One day I was walking past his office and stuck my head in to say hello. I noticed a baseball cap on his desk I had never seen before with the letters “CR” on it. I asked Frank, “Cedar Rapids?” He said, “No, Colorado Rockies.” I asked, “Are you going somewhere?” Frank replied, “No, but if I do I’m taking you with me.” You have no idea how amazing I felt after he said that.

It is still difficult for me to think that Frank Robinson is no longer alive. (He died in February of this year.) An old hospice joke goes, “Life goes on. Sometimes it doesn’t.”

I just wanted to write about Frank today. Very often, words are really inadequate, but they are often the best we can muster.

From camdenchat.com a picture of Frank Robinson.

#FrankRobinson

#disaffectedmusings

This post is not about recent Pro Football Hall of Fame inductee, Ed Reed.

The late Frank Robinson (who also wore Number 20) appeared in a dream once again. He visited me in the hospital (?!) and seemed genuinely concerned for my well-being. When he asked how I was doing, all I could say was, “I don’t know.”

From cooperstowncred.com a picture of Frank Robinson.

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From the sublime to the slime…If one were to grab a male Baltimore native aged 50 or older and ask who were the three most evil people in history, he might very well answer: Adolf Hitler, Osama Bin Laden and Robert Irsay. (Don’t ask me why I am writing about this today because I don’t know.)

I had a friend (remember that I was born and raised in Baltimore and was a die-hard Colts fan) who defended Irsay’s moving the Colts to Indianapolis and continued to root for the team after the move. This (former) friend was the ultimate knee-jerk contrarian and I believe that was his way because he felt that made him smarter than others or more special than others. Being a knee-jerk contrarian is no more profound or insightful than being a knee-jerk conformist.

This friend also used to deny what a miserable excuse for a human being Irsay was. Well, here is a long excerpt from a Chicago Tribune story from 1986:

“But even worse, Indianapolis got Robert Irsay, the rich Chicagoan who owns the team.”

“Irsay has long had a reputation in Chicago as a loudmouthed boor and braggart. And in football as one of the biggest bumblers in the game–a millionaire who treats a team like his personal toy and his players and coaches as disposable slaves.”

“Of course, being a loudmouthed boor and braggart is not unusual in Chicago. Just look at some of our biggest civic and political leaders. But now we learn that those are among Irsay`s teeniest imperfections. In its current issue, Sports Illustrated prints a meticulously detailed story of the grubby life and times of Bob Irsay.”

“It says that he . . . that he . . . well, there`s so much, I`m not really sure where to start.”

“I mean, what are we to think of a guy whose own mother, at age 84, is quoted as saying about her son:

”’He`s a devil on Earth, that one. He stole all our money and said goodbye.'” [emphasis mine]

“Irsay`s mom was referring to how, as a young man, Irsay got his start toward becoming Chicago`s biggest sheet-metal contractor and a financial wheeler-dealer.”

“His mother, his own brother and others say he did it by quitting his father`s sheet-metal company, taking away customers and employees and eventually driving his old man out of business.”

“As his younger brother put it: ”Bob actually worked to destroy his own father. Oh, he`s a real sweetheart all right.'”

“Then there`s his military record. Irsay has occasionally boasted about his wartime exploits. In interviews, he`s told of being injured by a Japanese grenade on New Guinea and being discharged as a commissioned officer.”

“Many of us like to talk about our wartime injuries. I`ve often told my kids how I wrenched my back when I got stewed and rolled out of an upper bunk. But the magazine checked Irsay`s version with the Pentagon. True, he was a marine. But the Japanese soldier who tossed the grenade must have had an incredible arm, since military records show that Irsay never left the states. And he was discharged as an enlisted man.”

“The magazine also looked into Irsay`s frequent boast that he played Big 10 football at the University of Illinois while getting a degree in electrical engineering. All this while waiting on tables at a frat house to work his way through school because his family was poor. Being a former Big 10 football player has given Irsay the aura of having knowledge of the game.”

“But the magazine found that Irsay didn`t play football. Nor did he get a degree. And while he went to Illinois, he didn`t wait on tables–he belonged to the fraternity and his businessman father picked up the tab.”

My former friend said that none of these stories were true. Yes, never let the facts get in the way of your opinions. Hey, a POS is a POS.

#FrankRobinson

#disaffectedmusings

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“And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”

– John Donne

A comment and reply from yesterday’s post:

You do have amazing timing. R.I.P. Frank Robinson.

 

rulesoflogic

In reply to:

You do have amazing timing. R.I.P. Frank Robinson.

I wish I didn’t.

The news of Frank Robinson’s passing is very sad to me, obviously. Even though we knew he was ill that knowledge does not anesthetize us. I am going to be a guest on a radio talk show tomorrow in my hometown to talk about Frank. I really don’t know what I am going to say because words are simply inadequate.

Here is a link to the post about Frank Robinson on his birthday last year. I will always be grateful for his counsel and his friendship. Unlike most baseball people of his generation Frank had an open mind about the use of statistics in baseball, despite some of the public comments he made while he was manager of the Nationals. I have many stories I could share, but perhaps a bit later.

From baseballhall.org a picture of Frank’s Hall of Fame plaque. I am proud to have known him.

#FrankRobinson