Happy Memorial Day, everyone!
A grateful Turk Wendell remembers.
Likewise, I’ll never forget the colorful pitcher.
I remember seeing Rod Carew alone in the Kansas City hotel lobby.
I had just started a sheet of Hall of Fame autographs, with a nifty HOF sticker in the middle.
The still-active Twin remained expressionless when I asked him for an autograph.
He looked at the sheet. I could see him eyeing the first signatures: Carl Hubbell, Stan Musial, Duke Snider.
Carew shook his head. “I’m not in the Hall of Fame,” he said.
Summoning all my junior high student courage possible, I replied: “Not yet. You will be.”
He stared me in the eye, then smiled. He signed.
Ever since, in every letter, I’ve shared why I’m choosing that person. What makes them unique?
Believe in them. Maybe, they’ll return the favor.
Initially, he reached me through this blog. He’s in the home stretch of writing a fascinating baseball history book.
I spotted, via Facebook, one of his victories.
Someone found him on LinkedIn. Her dad had played in the “Esquire All-American Boys” game, a precursor of the Hearst Sandlot Classic.
See what the supporter included with the message. That’s her father with a noted coach:
Yes, that’s Babe Ruth, circa 1945.
Moral? Don’t be shy. Don’t be silent.
Don’t spend all your time talking about the weather, your ailments, religion or politics. Share a passion. You write to former players?
Of course, slip in a call to action. A request. “If you EVER have any tips or ideas…”
Then, don’t count the misses. Only the hits.
If the world doesn’t know about your hobby, how can anyone ever help you?