OPINION:
Once upon a time every American boy dreamed of becoming a major league baseball player. Harold Baines was one of those boys. Residents of St. Michaels, Maryland, where Mr. Baines grew up in the ’60s, say he was rarely without his baseball glove. Before video games and before St. Michaels had become a tourist destination, the small Maryland Eastern Shore village was the sort of quintessential small town one associates with that era.
Like many of his generation, Harold played Little League but couldn’t have realized at the time that his performance as a 12-year-old would be witnessed by a dream maker. Bill Veeck was a legendary baseball man; his father had been president of the Chicago Cubs and Veeck himself owned a number of major and minor league teams as a controversial owner and promoter who often at odds with the more staid owners of his day.
In 1942, five years before Jackie Robinson took the field in Brooklyn, Veeck negotiated a deal to buy the Philadelphia Phillies and field a team made up of Negro League stars, but the baseball establishment of the day nixed the purchase when they got wind of his plan. Later, as owner of the Cleveland Indians, he signed Larry Doby, the first African-American to play in the American League.
Veeck bought the Chicago White Sox in 1959, but had to relinquish control of the team two years later for health reasons. He “retired” to Oxford, Maryland, just down the road from St. Michaels, but as a baseball fan spent as much time as he could in the stands. He saw young Harold play and liked what he saw. That might have been the end of it, but the irrepressible Veeck bought the White Sox again and in 1977 and shocked the baseball world by drafting and personally signing the then-18 year old Harold Baines, who he had been keeping tabs on since first seeing him play six years before. Veeck told the doubters at the time that “Baine’s next stop will be the Hall of Fame.”
Mr. Baines played in the major leagues for 21 years between 1980 and 2001; first in a White Sox uniform and then as a Cleveland Indian, Oakland Athletic, Texas Ranger and Baltimore Oriole. When his knees went out and he could no longer play the outfield, he became one of baseball’s most feared and reliable designated hitters. The always soft-spoken Mr. Baines never said much, but he was always reliable and popular with both his fans and teammates. Baseball was entering an era of self-promoting super stars in the ’90s and in many ways Mr. Baines was a throwback who took to the field not for the money and attention, but because he loved the game and was living his dream.
Harold Baines never left St. Michaels, where he and his wife raised their kids. He may have gone to the city to play ball, but the Eastern Shore always remained his home. When he was signed by the Orioles, a Baltimore Sun reporter learned from everyone he interviewed that the Harold Baines of St. Michaels hadn’t changed much since playing those Little League days. The money and fame that comes with playing in the major leagues never turned his head and as a clerk at a St. Michaels convenience store told the reporter, “You’ll never hear a bad word here about Harold Baines.”
The carping began when Mr. Baines was voted into the Baseball Hall of Fame earlier this month. A six-time All Star, he played 2,830 games as a major leaguer and drove in more runs than all but 33 players in the history of the game. Supporters of other potential Hall of Famers said their candidates had more RBIs or a better batting average, but anyone who followed the career of the kid from St. Michaels knows that there have been few better representatives of the game.
Bad boy Ty Cobb, who along with Babe Ruth was among the first players selected to the Hall of Fame back in 1936, proved that one “doesn’t have to be good to be great.” Many have been recognized as they should have been for their talent and records alone; men whose attitude and off-the-field behavior were not exemplary but who were gifted with talent; the kind of men one could admire, but wouldn’t want to invite to one’s home for dinner. But Harold Baines’ admission to the Hall of Fame stands as recognition that it is possible to be both good and great.
• David A. Keene is an editor at large for The Washington Times.
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