Tom Haudricourt: It was an honor to be able to call Aaron a friend.
It was an honor to be able to call Aaron a friend
One of the true privileges of being a major league baseball beat writer is making acquaintances, and sometimes building cherished friendships, with luminaries of the game.
In covering the Brewers for the Milwaukee Sentinel and Journal Sentinel since 1985 (with a brief interlude while working in New York from 2002-03), I've gotten to know and interact countless times with Bud Selig and Bob Uecker, two baseball icons and Hall of Famers for their contributions both to the franchise and the game itself.
One of their closest friends was legendary home run king Henry Aaron, who died early Friday morning in Atlanta at age 86. Those three were born in 1934 – Uecker and Aaron only 10 days apart – and became lifelong buddies dating to their first interactions in the '50s and ‘60s.
Selig was a young man and diehard baseball fan when the Braves and Aaron showed up in Milwaukee, making an immediate, huge splash. He first met Aaron in '58 and the two would become closer and closer over time. Later, as owner of the Brewers, Selig had the genius idea of bringing Aaron back to Milwaukee in 1975-76 to finish his career, providing some needed oomph to the franchise and closing the legendary player's baseball circle.
Uecker, a Milwaukee native, and Aaron were teammates with the Braves in 1962-63 and again in Atlanta in '67, the final year of, shall we say, Ueck's modest career.
Ueck loves to give this account of his supposed first interaction with Aaron in the clubhouse, repeating it to me Friday:
"I came up to him and said, ‘I'm Bob Uecker.' Henry said, 'What do you do?' I said, 'I'm a catcher.' Henry said, 'For what team?'”
It probably didn't happen exactly that way but it's classic self-deprecating comedy by Uecker, who understandably called Friday “a tough day” after learning of Aaron's death.
"I could always make Hank laugh,” Ueck added in a telephone conversation from his winter home in Arizona. “It started when we were teammates and he watched me try to hit."
As fate would have it, I actually had the incredible fortune of getting to know Aaron before I started covering the Brewers. I was writing for my hometown newspaper, the Richmond (Virginia)
Times Dispatch, when given the assignment of covering the Richmond Braves, the Class AAA affiliate of the Atlanta Braves.
A few years into covering that beat, Aaron was named director of player development for the Braves and often would travel to Richmond to watch that team play and monitor some of the organization's top prospects. Being the famous and instantly recognizable Hank Aaron, he couldn't sit in the stands behind home plate at Parker Field with the scouts without an endless stream of fans seeking his autograph, so he would watch from the cozy press box.
I could barely believe it. Hank Aaron was sitting next to me! Those who know me will be quick to tell you that I'm no wallflower, but at first I wondered if it would be OK to speak to him. I soon discovered how gracious and friendly Aaron was, and when he learned I was the team's beat writer, Aaron often would engage me in discussions about certain players.
My future wife, Trish, worked for the club, which was owned by the Atlanta Braves, and therefore was an actual coworker of Aaron's. She would serve as his escort around the ballpark and help with any needs during his visits, becoming a friend over time with the gentle giant.
After moving to Milwaukee to cover the Brewers, I often crossed paths with Aaron, who visited the city and the club for various events, including fundraisers for his “Chasing the Dream Foundation” that provided financial support for local youngsters in need. Our friendship was rekindled and whenever we met, he always began the conversation with, “How's Trish?”
As baseball commissioner, Selig never stopped looking for ways to honor Aaron. On Feb. 5, 1999, Aaron's 65th birthday, MLB announced the creation of the Hank Aaron Award, to be given annually to the top offensive performer in each league, based on statistical formula as well as voting of a panel that included Hall of Fame players.
Slugger Prince Fielder became the first Brewers player to win that award in the National League after his 50-homer season in 2007, joining American League winner Alex Rodriguez of the New York Yankees. Those awards were presented before Game 4 of the World
Series between Boston and Colorado at Coors Field.
A-Rod couldn't make it that day but Fielder showed up to receive his award in person from the great Henry Aaron. I was working in the crowded press box and lost track of time, arriving a bit late to the ceremony held in a marquee tent just outside of the ballpark.
I was standing in the back with other reporters as the ceremony ended and Aaron made his way down the aisle, flanked by security guards. Our eyes met and Aaron made his way over for a brief chat, as always asking first about Trish. I'm sure I was beaming afterward as Aaron walked away, and one of my open-mouthed colleges incredulously asked, “You're friends with Hank Aaron?”
I couldn't help putting on the Ritz, so I held up a hand with crossed fingers and replying, “Yes, of course. We're this tight!”
After receiving a plus-one invitation to a ceremonial dinner at the Pfister Hotel in 2015 to honor Selig after his retirement as commissioner, and asked Trish if she'd like to go with me. She initially waffled a bit, so I provided the ultimate enticement, saying, “Henry is going to be there.”
“What time does it start? I need to find something nice to wear,” she quickly replied, or something to that effect.
Shortly after entering the ballroom, Trish spotted Henry and immediately dashed over to talk to him. He had a big smile on his face, so I followed her and took a cellphone photo of them holding hands, a treasured moment in time we have cherished since.
I called that photo up on my phone Friday and we looked at it with both great fondness and extreme sadness. Like countless others, we are profoundly sorry that Henry is gone. It is an immeasurable loss.
What a privilege and honor to have known him. Everyone knew he was a great player. But he was an even greater man.