When I worked at Comiskey Park, the Hall of Fame came to me.
Back in the day, teams used their icons as broadcasters. Knowing this, I would get my pregame work done early and then wander into the visitor’s broadcast booth and kindly request an autograph.
One of those legends I encountered was Orioles’ icon Brooks Robinson, who passed away Tuesday. God, he was so nice and insisted both autographs I requested were personalized.
This was not an isolated incident as the stories of Robinson’s kindness and humility flowed in the wake of his passing. One of the best stories I came across was that Nancy Faust used to give Brooks a ride to O’Hare every now and again.
Brooks was larger than life to me as I was just coming of age as a rabid baseball fan during his career.
Players like the Robinsons — Brooks and Frank —, Johnny Bench, Al Kaline, Yaz, Harmon Killebrew and Rod Carew were essentially folk heroes.
We didn’t see their greatness in person or even on TV much. We read about it in the newspaper, in those books you ordered at school and on the back of baseball cards. It was a wonderful way to learn about baseball and the players who made the game great.
RIP Brooks. There will be no more doubles down the line in heaven.