By Louis A. Zona
YOUNGSTOWN, Ohio – When I was a kid, I was consumed by baseball.
I loved every aspect of the game, from baseball cards to an autograph book where I proudly showed off the autograph of my childhood idol, the great Mickey Mantle – and an idol later, Ted Kluszewski, who would cut off the top part of his sleeves so that his arms could fit into his shirts.
But Mickey was, for me, the greatest of them all – from his 550-foot home runs to being the fastest runner from home to first in all of baseball (even with an old football injury to his knee).
Playing ball with my friends enabled me to show off my Mantle batting stance as well as my personally drawn portrait of the great man. You probably could feel my disappointment when it came out that Mickey would take a drink or two during a game. But hey, Mickey probably had great mentors with Babe Ruth and Joe DiMaggio, two of the greatest stars who were also kind to children.
Someone once asked DiMaggio why he runs down every ground ball as if the World Series were at stake. His answer, “There might be one person in the stands who has never seen me play who I want to give his money’s worth.”
Sadly, the great Yankee Clipper, as DiMaggio was known in his playing days, has been eclipsed by Mr. Coffee, which he endorsed on television.
I did get to meet two players who are in the Baseball Hall of Fame. One was DiMaggio when the local restaurant owner, Sandy Petruzzi, invited the baseball star to speak at a special dinner at one of his restaurants. Needless to say, I was there, getting Joltin’ Joe to sign a piece of ticker tape that my father picked up at the old Cleveland Stadium that announced that Joe DiMaggio’s 56-game hitting streak was ended by terrific plays by Indians third baseman Ken Kelner.
They say that Babe Ruth, The Bambino, trained on hot dogs. That might be true, given his physique. It was amazing that his skinny legs could support his heavy upper body. But they say that despite his weight and size, he could run pretty fast.
Ruth loved kids, maybe because he had been an orphan.
He grew up to become the greatest ball player in the history of the sport. But I keep forgetting the Japanese phenom, Shohei Ohtani, who earns a measly $700 million and is not yet the next Bambino.
Ruth’s numbers are still remarkable – even more so because they were established during the so-called “dead ball era,” which places him in the stratosphere of baseball talent.
Ohtani would have to maintain his achievements over multiple seasons to be compared to Ruth.
When asked by a reporter to comment on the fact that he made more money than the president, Ruth responded, “I had a better year than the president.”
My mother threw out my baseball card collection, which had a Mickey Mantle rookie card among dozens of not so great players such as Gene Woodling and Don Clendenon. I often wonder if my collection just might have had among its not-so-special cards an Honus Wagner $5 million card.
My luck is such that had I managed to get the card that’s now worth $5 million, I probably tied it to my bike’s front wheel to duplicate the sound of a motorcycle. All the kids in the old neighborhood used baseball cards to pretend that our Schwinns were Harleys.
I heard a conversation on a sports channel about Ted Williams, who was the best pure hitter in baseball history. Williams was the last player to hit over .400, a magical feat for sure. The point that the sports experts were making was that because of computer technology, fielders today would know where the bulk of his hits would fall. Those hits would then become outs and Williams would not hit .400 in today’s game.
Personally, I don’t believe it, because Williams could hit pitches anywhere he wanted.
I show my age whenever I’m asked to list my all-time favorite players.
Of course, I place Mickey Mantle (“the Oklahoma Kid”) at the very top of my list with apologies to Willie Mays and Roberto Clemente.
Hank Aaron has to be on any list, of course, and so does Pete Rose, who passed away recently without being voted into the Hall of Fame. I feel that he should be in the Hall. His contributions to baseball are many, with regard to his play on the diamond.
And yes, he no doubt bet on the game, but he bet on his own team. That should at least enable him to participate in the sport. Maybe a compromise would be that he does not qualify for awards such as a Gold Glove.
One of my favorite events at the Butler Institute of American Art was the showing of the paintings of Omar Vizquel.
When I asked him about the shiny objects behind some paint cans in his garage, he answered, “those are my Gold Glove awards, I have lots of them!”
Ah, baseball. Once it’s in your blood, there’s no getting it out.
Louis A. Zona is the executive director and curator of The Butler Institute of American Art.