I don’t care if I ever get back

If you’re counting musician deaths, 2016 was a miserable year. It started with David Bowie in early January, followed by (deep breath) Prince, George Martin, George Michael, Leonard Cohen, Merle Haggard, Glen Frey, Paul Kantner, Maurice White, Greg Lake, Keith Emerson and Leon Russell, and I guess we can throw Frank Sinatra Jr. in as well.

It seemed like an onslaught at the time, but insurance actuary charts which measure mortality rates of a sample population will likely validate that 2016 – given the ages of the performers and for some, their bad habits and general health backgrounds – was not an outlier. But numbers aside, it’s quite a list. The horror show that was 2020 gave us a similar Grim Reaper appointment book – this time for seven members of the Baseball Hall of Fame – all but one icons of 70s era baseball.

Second baseman Joe Morgan, the driving force behind Cincinnati Big Red Machine, was twice voted MVP. Bob Gibson of the St. Louis Cardinals was for many years the most dominant pitcher in baseball. His teammate Lou Brock was a speedy leadoff hitter who stole more than 900 bases. Al Kaline, Mr. Tiger, was an American League All-Star 18 times. Knuckleball master Phil Niekro pitched from 1964 to 1987. Whitey Ford started 22 World Series games for the Yankees. Tom Seaver, one of history’s greatest pitchers, won three Cy Young Awards.

Dick Allen

And let’s not forget others who passed on without making the Hall. Mighty mite Jim Wynn hit more than 30 home runs three times. Don Larsen pitched a perfect game in the 1956 World Series. Journeyman infielder Horace Clarke unjustly symbolized the futility of the Yankees in the late 60s and early 70s. And my personal fave, the ultra-cool Dick Allen, with his muttonchop sideburns and reputation for being “difficult” – actually just the easy interpretation back then of an outspoken black man playing in a generally racist northern city (Philadelphia). Allen was an amazing home run hitter and will likely be voted into the Hall later this year.

I don’t watch much baseball anymore. The games are too long. Game strategy is dictated by empirical analysis. Teams are owned by conglomerates and private equity groups looking to practice McKinsey-styled business tactics like slashing payroll and closing down minor league teams. And don’t get me started on those stupid pajama pants. For me, major league baseball’s past is the anchor that’s kept it from drifting into irrelevancy. These days, that anchor is feeling a lot lighter.