An essay by Jerome Holtzman, from Hank Aaron’s “Home Run”
Bartholomay had some scattered support. Tom Callahan of the Cincinnati Enquirer insisted, “The Braves are entitled to take advantage of Aaron’s drawing power at home since they are paying him $600,000 on a three-year contract.”
The Sporting News also sided with Bartholomay and pointed out: “There is a precedent for this kind of maneuvering. The Cardinals did it in 1958 when Stan Musial was about to log his 3,000th hit. Musial was withheld from the starting lineup in Chicago. The Cardinals were to be in St. Louis the next day and tried to arrange for hit Number 3,000 to come before a home crowd. But late in the game in Chicago a pinch-hitting situation arose and manager Fred Hutchinson did not hesitate to call on Musial. Stan delivered, which helped spark a Cardinal victory. We can’t conceive of Eddie Mathews, the Atlanta manager, playing it differently with Aaron if a comparable situation arose in Cincinnati.
“The Braves could have waited until the eve of the opener and manufactured a pulled muscle for Henry. If Henry said he was hurt, the self-appointed defenders of the faith would be unlikely to challenge him. But Aaron and the Braves have resorted to no phony alibis. Their integrity comes through a lot stronger than the complainants’ common sense.
“Why haven’t the arbiters of uprightness blasted the practice of testing youngsters in September games? It’s done often enough, always in games that have no bearing on the standings. And since when does a ‘best effort’ depend on the presence of a single player who is deemed essential by writer-pundits? The Braves have a right to play Aaron when and where they see fit. A ‘best effort’ does not hinge on a lineup made out in the press box.”
Leonard Koppett, in his Sporting News column, also defended the Braves and asked: “If Commissioner Bowie Kuhn follows the storm of advice being heaped upon him and orders Aaron to play in Cincinnati will he also order him to hit a home run? And if Aaron plays in Cincinnati and does not hit a home run, will he then be suspected of giving less than his best?”
Jesse Outlar of the Atlanta Constitution: “With Aaron answering the bell annually the Braves have lost seven pennants since arriving in Atlanta by a total of 132 games. Personally, I think the Braves should have left the decision of whether to play or not play to Aaron. For the other 159 games, Hank will inform manager Eddie Mathews whether he feels like being in the lineup.”
Of the hundreds of thousands of words written on the subject only Sparky Anderson, the Cincinnati manager, noted that Aaron was in the middle, a helpless pawn. “He shouldn’t have to take all this stuff,” Sparky said. “They’ve got him trapped against the wall. If he says anything he’s a big shot. And of all the superstars he’s never said anything to make you dislike him.”
Kuhn was slow in reacting. Finally, he ruled that Aaron, barring injury, must be in the starting lineup for the entire three-game series. Aaron didn’t express concern over the swirling controversy and responded with his Opening Day home run off Billingham.
When he was held out of the second game, an indignant Kuhn telephoned the Braves’ office and spoke to manager Eddie Mathews.
“I asked the Commissioner two questions,” Mathews said. “Is this an order? And what are the consequences?”
“This is a direct order,” Kuhn replied. “I haven’t decided the consequences but they will be severe.”
Aaron was 0-for-3 in the third game. According to Dick Young, “Aaron never looked worse.” He struck out twice on three pitches and was out on a weak roller before he was lifted for defensive purposes. “Were you trying to hit a homer?” Young asked. “People might think you are saving it for Atlanta.”
“I can’t help what people think,” Aaron said. “It’s not easy walking up there and hitting a homer. Not as easy as they think.”
When the Braves returned to Atlanta, Henry hit Number 715 before a standing-room-only crowd in the Braves’ home opener. During a press conference after the game Aaron was asked “Are you the greatest ballplayer?” The question embarrassed him.
“I couldn’t say,” Aaron replied. Then innate frankness overcame embarrassment. “I’d say I’m one of the best.” He rattled off the names that flashed in his mind — Joe DiMaggio, Willie Mays, Jackie Robinson, in that order. “I wouldn’t say Henry Aaron is going to be fourth. I’d say Henry Aaron is going to be second or third.”
According to a Harris survey of 769 fans across the country, 77 percent were rooting for Aaron. Still, the naysayers were adamant in their criticism: When he connected for Number 714, he had had 2,890 more at-bats than Ruth. The hate mail continued pouring in but was now outnumbered by letters of good cheer and congratulations.
Dear Mr. Aaron:
We were watching as a family from Room 306 at the Morton Research Hospital in Dallas when you broke Babe Ruth’s record. Our grandson died just a short time later. The little eight-year old boy kept saying, “Hank can do it tonight,” and when you did, this child with needles in his right arm and couldn’t move his right hand, but his little left arm saluted straight up toward the TV and he yelled, “He did it, Daddy! I knew he would!” He had been very ill for quite a while with leukemia, cancer, appendicitis and pneumonia. I’m telling you this so you will know how much joy you brought to this courageous little boy. We all love you for it. And we wish you could have seen that little fellow jump and yell, “He did it, Daddy!” The entire third floor knew about it. Thanks very much for giving him the chance to see you do it.
Dear Mr. Aaron:
I am 12 years old and I want to tell you I have read many articles about the prejudice against you. I really think it’s bad. I don’t care what color you are. You could be green and it wouldn’t matter. These nuts who keep comparing you in every way to Ruth are dumb. You can’t compare two people 30 or 40 years apart. So many things are different. It’s just some people can’t stand to see someone a bit different from them ruin something someone else more like them set. I’ve never read where you said you’re better than Ruth. That’s because you never said it. What do those fans want you to do? Just quit hitting?
At the end of the year the United States Postal Service calculated Aaron’s mail at 930,000 letters and presented him with a plaque for receiving the most mail of any non-politician in the country. Some of the letter-writers didn’t use an address and their letters arrived at the post office designated for “Hank Aaron” or “The Hammer.”
The 1974 season wasn’t all wine and roses. Aaron became embroiled in a bitter dispute triggered by Mathews’ midseason firing as Braves field manager. Long-time friends, Aaron and Mathews, in September 1965, had broken the Ruth-Gehrig record for the most home runs by two teammates. When Aaron arrived at the All-Star Game the Braves were still without a manager. Many sportswriters suggested him as the logical successor despite his previous remarks he wasn’t interested in managing and preferred a front office position.
As the speculation grew Aaron changed his mind. “If they offered me the job I’d almost be compelled to take it simply because there are no black managers in the majors,” Aaron said. Mathews was succeeded by Clyde King. On September 27, at the season’s end, general manager Phil Segui of the Cleveland Indians hired Frank Robinson, a former superstar player. Robinson was Organized Baseball’s fourth black manager but the first who would direct a major league team (the others handled minor league clubs). Among them was Tommie Aaron, Hank Aaron’s younger brother.
Henry finished the season with 20 home runs, raising his career total to 733. He was in Tokyo on November 14, four hours after defeating Sadaharu Oh, Japan’s top slugger, in a special home run hitting contest, when the announcement came that he had been traded to the Milwaukee Brewers. The deal startled the baseball world and was made by Allan (Bud) Selig — later Commissioner Selig — who had been campaigning for a replacement team since the Braves had abandoned Milwaukee and moved to Atlanta eight years earlier.
The new Milwaukee club, now named the Brewers, had been awarded a franchise in the American League, a league that had adopted the Designated Hitter Rule in 1972. The DH, in effect, was the 10th man: he batted for the pitcher and seldom played in the field. At the age of 4l, it was the ideal situation for baseball’s new Home Run King.
Aaron expressed delight that he would be returning to the city where he had played his first 12 major league seasons and had hit 398 home runs. He welcomed the DH assignment. “I’ll just have to keep my legs in shape because the DH sits a lot,” Aaron said. As for adjusting to American League pitching, he didn’t anticipate any big problems. “I expect to hit another home run or two.”
Selig was also delighted. “We are very pleased to get a player who unquestionably is the greatest player of our generation,” Selig said. “It’s a remarkable transaction and certainly it is our feeling that Henry is coming home. We haven’t bought a piece of nostalgia. We got a productive designated hitter. We expect to have a long relationship. As far as I’m concerned we’ve got him in perpetuity.”
Then Selig added: “This could be his second honeymoon.”
It was not an uncommon deal. Because of the DH, the American League had been a haven for National League sluggers who had slowed in the field. Dick Allen, Billy Williams, Ron Santo, Tommy Davis, Frank Robinson, Orlando Cepeda, Deron Johnson, and Jim Ray Hart extended their careers in the American League. When the Cubs announced that Billy Williams was available, five of the six teams that expressed interest were in the AL.
When Aaron reported to the Brewers’ Sun City, Arizona, spring training camp, many of the younger players were so thrilled to have him as their teammate they were virtually dumbstruck. “It was like having a bubble gum card come to life,” recalled infielder Don Money, a seven-year big league veteran. “The first time I saw him in a Brewer uniform I couldn’t stop thinking the man wearing Number 44 was the greatest home run hitter in baseball history. And that feeling filtered through the entire club. Seeing him on the field those first couple days took a little getting used to.”
Aaron worked on his swing until it sounded as though a machine instead of a man was rapping baseballs through the infield, into the outfield and often over the fence. He participated in all of the tedious activities including wind sprints, running across the outfield grass with a blue windbreaker under his jersey and over a sweatshirt. His style and dedication were evident.
Unlike other superstars, he made almost all the trips during the exhibition season, aware he had a responsibility to the team and to the fans in the other cities who wanted to see him play. He kept as low a profile as possible, always trying to avoid the spotlight, handling himself as if he were just another player trying to make the club.
But of course he wasn’t just another player, and before the Brewers broke camp he held a one-hour batting clinic for his teammates at the request of manager Del Crandall. “If Henry doesn’t know about hitting, then nobody does,” said Crandall, who was astonished to learn that the Atlanta Braves had never taken advantage of his expertise.
The entire Milwaukee team attended and also heard Aaron on the necessity of adjusting the swing according to the circumstances. When he first came up he held his hands high. As he got older he dropped his hands and brought them closer to his body. He also spoke about knowing what to expect from certain pitchers in different situations and how to protect the plate with a runner on first who has the ability to steal.
He made his American League debut in the Boston opener. It was his first game as a DH. Luis Tiant, the master of the corkscrew delivery, held him hitless in four appearances — a walk, strikeout and two groundouts. Tiant pitched him low and away. Henry said the low balls didn’t bother him too much, then quipped “I’m a lowball hitter and highball drinker.”
Returning home on April 11, against Cleveland (managed by Frank Robinson). Henry was welcomed by a record Opening Day crowd of 48,160. Traffic snarled. Many fans didn’t get to their seats until the third or fourth inning. Scorecard vendors shouted “Program, take home a souvenir of the return of Henry Aaron!” According to Lew Chapman of the Milwaukee Sentinel, “a three-minute ovation almost lifted the roof.” After Aaron was introduced, the fans sang to the tune of “Hello, Dolly”:
Welcome home, Henry,
Welcome home, Henry.
It’s so nice to have you back
Where you belong!
Batting third, ahead of George Scott, Henry broke an 0-for-8 drought with a sixth-inning single that triggered a victorious five-run rally. It was the first of his 167 hits as a DH. He appeared in 137 games, of which only nine were in the field. The next season, his last, he batted .229 in 89 games, 74 as a DH. For the two years, combined, he hit 22 home runs, all as a designated hitter. In his final game, October 3, 1976, he went 1-for-3, a single and two groundouts. Jim Gantner replaced him in the sixth inning.
At the finish Henry Aaron held more records than any player in baseball history. His lifetime totals were staggering: first in home runs, 755, and runs batted in, 2,297, records that still stand. He was also second in at-bats, 12,364, and in runs, 2,174; third in hits, 3,771; and ninth in doubles, 624. He had appeared in 3,298 games. Cooperstown was next.
Aaron was inducted into the Hall of Fame in 1982, his first year of eligibility. For enshrinement a candidate must be named on 75 percent of the votes cast. He received 406 of a possible 415 votes, 97.8 percent — a percentage surpassed only by Ty Cobb’s 98.2 percent in 1936.
“The way to fame is like the way to heaven, through much tribulation,” he said in his induction speech. “For 23 years I never dreamed this honor would come to me, for it was not fame I sought but rather to be the best baseball player I could possibly be.”
The Way to Fame, Part 4 was originally published in Our Game on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.