With this past weekend’s Baseball Hall of Fame induction of Jeff Kent, Carlos Beltran, and Andruw Jones, it seemed like an appropriate point to reflect on a place with reminders of its own Cooperstown members: Legacy Hall in PNC Park, home of the Pittsburgh Pirates.
As I mentioned in this post from the other day, a thunderstorm cut short my plans to watch the Bucs for the first time while I was on vacation earlier this month.
But before finding my seat and waiting impatiently for the “Play Ball” call
that never came, I spent a few minutes in Legacy Hall, a multi-use space filled
with some great team memorabilia, with much of it not previously displayed at
the ballpark.
Several Hall of Fame players are commemorated here, including Willie Stargell, Ralph Kiner, Honus Wagner, and Bill Mazerowski. But I’ll focus on one in this post: an original locker from the club’s prior home in Three Rivers Stadium, occupied by Roberto Clemente. Elsewhere in the city, a museum honors the life and legacy of this great ballplayer and humanitarian.
But fans
will still want to look and linger at what is on display honoring him at Legacy
Hall: his uniform, jacket, cap, cleats, photos, and a bat—emblematic of a
consistent and superb hitter who won four batting titles and collected 3,000
hits.
These
days, Latinos and Hispanics make up anywhere from a quarter to a third of
players in major league baseball. But Clemente was the first superstar of the
group. What this proud and sensitive man had to endure from the media then was
shameful and would not be tolerated today.
It took a
while for Clemente’s skills to be noticed in a bumper crop among a bumper crop
of contemporary outfielders that included Willie Mays, Henry Aaron, Mickey
Mantle, and Frank Robinson, but eventually his performance at the plate and on
the field in the 1971 World Series exposed to a nationwide audience the
greatness that so many in baseball had recognized since his debut in 1955.
His statistics and leadership had already made Clemente a basement legend.
But his
death on board a plane carrying supplies to earthquake victims in Nicaragua
during the Christmas season of 1972 lifted him to the status of role model and
icon, much like the New York Yankees’ Lou Gehrig—the only other player that
Cooperstown’s Hall of Fame board explicitly waived its five-year rule for
consideration to major league baseball’s Valhalla.

No comments:
Post a Comment