Was it when the death threats occurred – mailed in, called in, delivered to the Atlanta Braves clubhouse? Was it when the hate mail poured in like a stuck-open spigot? Was it when he heard the chilling shouts during batting practice from “fans” – including words strung together that would make even Archie Bunker blush? Or was it when his daughter had to have Secret Service-like protection at college, due to the kidnapping threats made against her?
Surely one of these had to have put Aaron over the edge while he had the nerve to chase Babe Ruth’s all-time career home run record, in late 1973 and early 1974. Ruth had been retired for nearly 40 years, and Aaron was the first player who was seriously challenging the Bambino. And Hammerin’ Hank’s being black made the lowest form of human life in this country squirm and gnash their teeth.
It was bad enough that Aaron played his 23-year career under the shadows of Willie Mays and Mickey Mantle, and others – players who were constantly revered as being the best in the game, while Aaron, for whatever reason, was overlooked as being a power hitter and not much more. I’ve always been amazed, the same way I am over the fascination with Paris Hilton, that Aaron hasn’t really gotten his due as one of the top five players in baseball history – which he is.
Aaron played the outfield with the same grace and consistency as Mays and Mantle – and Roberto Clemente (another who gets more word play than Aaron), albeit with less flash and panache. And without the good fortune of plying his trade in the Valhalla of baseball affection – New York, as Mays did for the first seven years of his career, and as Mantle did. And Duke Snider. And Gil Hodges.
But the underrated thing is nothing compared to what Aaron had to go through in pursuit of Ruth. I’ve written it before – that the treatment Hank Aaron received in the months and days leading up to his surpassing Ruth should forever be remembered as the days when our country should be most ashamed of itself.
Aaron had no fun chasing Babe Ruth. You could see it in his eyes, even after he hit home run no. 715 on April 8, 1974. The look was mostly of weary relief – not joy or elation. As he rounded second base and headed for third, a couple of fans who had spilled out of the stands at Atlanta’s Fulton County Stadium joined him for the home run trot. They gave him congratulatory pats on the back – obviously less driven by their appreciation of history and more so by their desire to be immortalized on film, no doubt. But it provided a symbolic moment: happy, giddy America and a stoic, reserved Aaron.
After 715 was in the books, Aaron was relieved, not elated
He was also a victim of bad timing. Aaron finished the 1973 season with 713 home runs, one shy of Ruth. So it gave the haters six more months to load up and rain their fusillade on Aaron while the chase was put on pause. Aaron’s home run hitting was stilled by the off-season, but the vitriol continued.
After his playing days, Aaron railed against Major League Baseball’s old boy system of franchise running – namely, wondering where all the black executives were. He hinted that he would like to be commissioner someday. Or a general manager of a team. Or a president. And he wanted others of color to be afforded the same opportunities. Once again the haters came out of the woodwork. It was bad enough, in their eyes, that a black man had knocked the white Ruth off the home run pedestal. Now Aaron wanted more?
Aaron eventually did become a member of the Braves’ front office, in 1989. He’s been a member of it ever since. Few other minorities, though, have followed him. The old boy system is still alive and well.
Now, as Barry Bonds chases Aaron – Bonds has 751 homers to Aaron’s 755 – Hank is in the spotlight again, but not for simply being the chasee. Aaron has publicly announced that he doesn’t plan on being in attendance when Bonds breaks the record. He said it months ago. He established his position – firmly and without wavering – early on, and today, with Bonds knocking on the door, Commissioner Bud Selig has still yet to reveal his intentions on whether he’ll have his fanny in the stadium when Bonds swats no. 756.
Hank Aaron wanted to be commissioner once – and baseball all but laughed at him.
Aaron’s stance has been construed to mean that he doesn’t approve of Bonds’s assault on 755, due to the shroud of mystery surrounding Bonds and the stuff he has rubbed on his body and ingested over the years. Steroids. Performance-enhancing drugs. Banned substances. Pick your poison.
For his part, Aaron says simply that he doesn’t have the time, frankly, to travel all over the country, not knowing when 756 will occur, or where. He says records are meant to be broken, but that he just doesn’t choose to add to the circus atmosphere. It’s a nod, he says, to how he wishes no. 715 had been treated by so many others, back in the day. No animosity toward Bonds. No snubbing.
I don’t care if Aaron is telling the truth when he says those things, or is merely sugar-coating personal beliefs he holds. I wouldn’t even care if he said, “I’m not going to be there because Barry Bonds’s record is paper, and mine is gold.”
He chooses not to be in attendance. Maybe wouldn’t even walk across the street to see his record tumble. Fine.
In addition to the home run record, Aaron holds the MLB records for the the most career runs batted in (2,297), the most career extra base hits (1,477); and the most career total bases (6,856). He is also in the top five for career hits and runs.
For all that, Hank Aaron got death threats, hate mail, his daughter in suspected peril, and the feeling after the ’73 season that he wouldn’t live to see 1974.
The man can do what he wants.
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