One of my national treasures died today. Henry Louis Aaron, nicknamed "Hammerin' Hank," died yesterday, Friday, January 23rd; he was 86 years old. Wow! yes, wow! Before the newscaster finished her words - I was overcome with emotion.
Hank Aaron was mystical. I got to see him on one of three bay area channels we had at the time, primarily during the news at 6 pm. My favorite Bay Area sportscaster Jan Hutchenson would provide the sports highlights and end his show with his closing quote, "the body is the temple of the spirit, take care." The only other global sports update option was Wide-World of Sports on Saturday's. Most of the updates were just enough to enhance my stepdad's stories about our great black sports athletes, now legends.
I pause after hearing yesterday's breaking news. In the midst of it, I flashed back to the early '70s in Oakland, CA. A time when my only problems were not cleaning my room and forgetting to do chores. Yet, I was aware that while baseball was branded as pure and American as apple pie, it was not like that for everyone. Right outside lived monumental issues of strife and racism. Many of those issues felt and worn by our great role models. Hank was one of those who bore the burden of so much of that to include discrimination. Can you imagine your home team fans being indifferent or hostile during the season you were chasing Ruth's record? Can you imagine receiving death threats daily by mail and or other? Can you imagine being a black man who plays baseball for a living yet has to hire guards to protect his family?
1974 - Things are happening. Coleman Young is elected as the first Black mayor of Detroit. Frank Robinson is named the Cleveland Indians manager, becoming the first black manager in major league baseball. Muhammad Ali beat George Foreman and regains the Heavyweight Championship of the world. Shirley Chisholm, a New York Democrat, is the 1st African American woman elected to Congress. As African Americans struggled for civil rights, major league baseball persisted as America's "happy game" despite less than 17% being African American.
Hank Aaron had a large community/fan base that rooted for him. My community rooted loudly and eagerly waited for him to disrupt the game with that one home run. In sports, the most covenant record was the baseball's home run record, held by Babe Ruth at 714. Close your eyes, take your mind back to the era of 1974. Imagine that record broken by a black player. Many didn't want that to happen, but the many rooting for the 17% did. The one person that blatantly didn't want to see it was the MLB commissioner Bowie Kuhn. He chose not to attend the Los Angeles Dodgers and the Atlanta Braves game to witness Hank Aaron hit number 715 the night of April 4, 1974. Wow! another wow! But I saw! I saw it on my TV, and I was elated.
I think Hank Aaron was well aware of how the kids in the neighborhood like me, Tony, and Ira would look to him as one of our champions, and that we did. Completing my chores allowed me to go outside and spend the rest of the day pretending to be like Hank Aaron. We'd play strikeout on Tony's steps and always encapsulated and dramatized Hanks' home run swing, either striking out or pounding the neighbor's roof with the Wiffle ball. So when I paused earlier yesterday while hearing the news of his passing, I immediately reverted to my childhood and thought of that bat swing. Hammerin Hanks' swing met that ball, lifting it high and long, breaking not only Babe Ruth's home run record but raising hope and giving me strength as a young black boy. He was more than a baseball player to us. He was a model that represented strength, eloquence, humility, power, and future. That home run lifted the spirits of people and a race of people. Hank Aaron was a symbolic celebration of hope when given a chance.
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