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Baseball, like life, is full of streaks, runs and errors 

FENWAY FANS
Fans in Fenway Park's leftfield seats cheer as the All Century baseball team is introduced before the start of Tuesday's All-Star Game, July 13, 1999 in Boston.
Bob Fords History

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This article was written on the road -- and from my phone -- right after a Royals loss.

I’m bummed with how the Royals season has started, so much so, I've been paying attention to the NBA playoffs. It gets worse, last week while Kansas City was playing, I caught myself watching the Antique Roadshow instead. Now that’s bad.

My sports buddies will want me to turn in my “baseball guy” membership card for that, but wait, let me redeem myself and work on getting my groove – and perhaps the Royals – back with a couple short baseball vignettes … here we go!

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Bob Gibson, the hall of fame St. Louis Cardinals pitching ace, has always been my favorite player. His intensity, intimidation and talent was second to none.

Curt Flood, Gibson’s roommate, was a pretty good center fielder who most teammates disliked.

During one particular game in the top of the ninth inning, at Dodger Stadium, the Cards were down 3-1 against Don Drysdale, another feared top-of-the-line talented pitcher of the 60’s.

With runners on first and second, here came Flood to the plate. Curt sent Drysdale’s first pitch deep over the left wall for what turned out to be the game-winning three-run home run. Flood flipped his bat, skipped and hopped with joy around the bases in celebration.

A month later, it was Gibson versus Drysdale again, this time in St Louis. Drysdale’s first pitch – a fastball – nailed Curt in the ribs. Everyone knew it was for that home run and celebration that occurred a month earlier.

As the inning ended and Flood headed to the dugout, he ran past Gibson who was walking to the mound.

Wanting his roomie to retaliate, “Did you see that, you gonna do anything about it?” Gibson glared at him,

“Hell Curt, I would’ve hit you too!”

Gibson had a great Hall of Fame career, but he knew it was time to hang it up when he surrendered a grand slam to meek-hitting Chicago Cub Pete LaCock. It was LaCock’s only slam of his career. Fifteen years later the two met again in an old-timers game. On the first pitch, Gibson nailed Pete in the ribs with a fastball.

Gibby was all business on the mound with a great memory, but off, he had fun. In the Cardinals 1964 World Series Championship team photo, Gibson and little known or used backup catcher Bob Uecker are grinning ear to ear because they clearly were holding hands.

Top brass was not amused, fining both and separating them for the team photo retake days later.

My young buddy Matt Sinnett wanted to make a statement. He had been watching me navigate my way through my 20’s and wanted to do something.

At school, Matt purchased Bob Gibson’s book “Stranger to the Game” and sat on the curb outside Gibson’s house in his hometown, which was Omaha.

Mrs. Gibson finally came out and said, “All right, what do you want?”

Bob Gibson inscribed the book to me. Statement made. The book’s on my shelf.

Harry Caray and Jack Buck broadcast Cardinals baseball through most of the ‘60s. They made the game come alive! Underwritten by Budweiser, they had a habit of supporting their sponsor nightly.

One evening in Chicago – where the fans were close to the press box – the two were having trouble, similar to what their predecessor Dizzy Dean experienced years earlier.

A young boy and girl right in front of them we’re “making out” throughout the game. You could tell it distracted Harry and Jack to the point where they had to comment and make fun of the couple.

“There they go again,” and “get a room!”

As the game was winding down Caray chuckled “I’ve finally figured out what they are doing, he kisses her on the strikes then she kisses him on the non-strikes!”

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We were lucky to have a great relationship with the Royals Season Ticket head Joe Grigoli.

The Royals were allocated so many All-Star game tickets each year and we were on the short list.

In 1999, the All-Star Game went to the oldest baseball venue in the major leagues still in use, Boston’s Fenway Park. Not only does the game celebrate the current on-the-field players with their voted upon achievements, that year the .league honored the greatest players of the 20th Century.

Yours truly, Randy Bell, Craig Patrick and Mike Kroenke – who all flew in that morning – along with 37,000 dedicated fans, squeezed into Fenway. Our seats, which would have been snug for Danny Devito, were in the bleachers, but we were there, with two of us in front and two directly behind.

Any retired hall of famer who could make it to Boston came, Willie Mays, Nolan Ryan, Bob Gibson, Ernie Banks, on and on. Even “banned from baseball,” Pete Rose attended.

These great players, who made the game so popular, lined the field. Then, the undisputed star of the evening came out in a golf cart, Ted Williams.

Of course, playing his entire career in Boston from 1939 to 1960, the fans went crazy. Williams had not been back to Fenway in years, he never enjoyed the limelight.

The other “all time,” players gathered around Ted’s cart just wanting to be close to the icon. Many consider Williams to be the greatest hitter of all time.

Through the cheers, I heard an odd noise. As the players finally permitted Ted to leave his cart, he threw out the ceremonial first pitch. Then the old timers surrounded his cart again not allowing him to escape, media folks were scrambling, wanting to start the game on time, but the players would have none of it, talking to Ted, laughing, soaking in the moment. I kept on hearing that weird out of place sound.

The players finally cleared a path, Ted slowly rode in his cart towards the exit in center field, right below us.

Fans were crying, they knew this was the last time the “Splendid Splinter,” would be in his park. It was a baseball moment of all time as we, the game's devotees who were lucky enough to be there, knew.

I got a tap on my shoulder from Craig behind me. Turning around, the only one seated in the entire stadium was Kroenke, sound asleep and sawing logs!

Baseball, it can load your heart with unfulfilled dreams or give you a feeling of shared joy and pride like nothing else.

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Bob Ford’s History will appear in each edition of the Midweek and Weekender. You can find more of Bob’s work on his website at bobfordshistory.com and videos on YouTube, TikTok, and Clapper.

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