A Remembrance of Frank Robinson

Frank Robinson has died at the age of 83. The inner circle Hall of Famer, player, manager, good-will ambassador and executive was a part of the baseball landscape for over sixty years. He was a part of my world, too.

My first recollection of Robinson was as a member of the 1961 National League Champion Cincinnati Reds. That squad held off a very talented Los Angeles Dodgers team, going 93-61 and taking the championship by a four game margin. I remember that team very well. Former major league pitcher Fred Hutchinson was the Manager. He was tough as nails. The pitching staff was led by Jim O’Toole (19-9), Joey Jay (21-10) and Bob Purkey (16-12). Jim Brosnan, author of two baseball books, anchored the bullpen. In the field were Vada Pinson (.343 batting average) in center, Gordy Coleman (.287 batting average, 26 home runs) at first base, Gene Freese (.277 batting average, 26 home runs) at the hot corner, the tandem of Wally Post and Jerry Lynch splitting playing time in left and Robinson in right.

It was a well balanced team but Frank Robinson was “the man” and everyone knew it. He was the National League’s Most Valuable Player that year. A slugger who hit for a high average and power, Robinson would get on base with hits, walks or being hit by an offering from the pitcher. The numbers from 1961 tell the story: 37 home runs, 124 runs batted in and a slash line of .323/.404/.611. And when he was on base he was quick, always menacing the opposing team with his ability to steal, swiping 22 bases and being caught only 3 times that year. I’ve always thought his 1961 baseball card was a real beauty; here it is:

My first and only personal experience with him occurred when I read an article he wrote for SPORT Magazine.You can see the cover of that issue in the photo at the top of this post. It was an unusual experience for me to feel such a deep connection with an author, any author, but in this case I felt like Robinson was talking to me. The article described the added intensity he felt in the heat of a pennant race. He talked about sweat; pennant sweat, and how different it was from ordinary sweat. It carried a greater sense of urgency. Robinson called it a test of guts. Just by looking at how he played, you could see that he meant what he said, and that he always passed the test.

After ten superb years in Cincinnati, for some inexplicable reason the Reds traded Robinson to the Baltimore Orioles, where he proved to be the final piece of a puzzle that enabled the Orioles to become a baseball dynasty. In his six seasons with the Orioles, they won two World Series (1966, 1970) and played in two others (1969, 1971). He won his second Most Valuable Player Award in 1966 when he hit 49 home runs, knocked in 122 RBI and slashed to the tune of .316/.410/.637. All of these figures led the American League. Robinson is the only player to win a Most Valuable Player Award in both leagues. Here’s a favorite baseball card of mine that tells some of the story:

After Robinson left the Orioles he entered the “hired gun” phase of his career, a term I like to use to indicate a player’s days of being a permanent part of one team have ended and he will now spend varying lengths of time playing for several teams. This occurs on the downside of a player’s career, when his numbers take a tumble. In Robinson’s case, there was still a lot left in the tank, and he was a productive player for the Dodgers in 1972 and the Angels in 1973 and 1974. In September of 1974, the Angels traded him to the Cleveland Indians, where the next significant step in his career occurred.

Frank Robinson became the first African-American to be named Manager of a major league team when the Indians chose him to pilot their squad in 1975. He would also continue to play, however, it would be in a greatly reduced role. By this time Robinson’s stature in the world of baseball was unquestioned and the Indians got better during his stewardship. I would feel sorry for any player Robinson managed who did not give his greatest effort all of the time. After his tenure in Cleveland, there were Managerial stops in San Francisco, Baltimore, Montreal and Washington, D. C. He’s shown here during his San Francisco tenure in a postcard issued by Barry Cola in 1983.

I’ll remember many things about Frank Robinson. The ferocious slides he made heading into second base in an effort to break up a double play. The way he crowded the plate. The pennant sweat. His ability to motivate his teammates by virtue of his intense will and spirited play. His towering presence. The dedication to excellence. Frank Robinson is gone and we will not see the likes of him again, but I sure am glad I got a chance to see him.