Roberto Clemente

From BR Bullpen

Roberto Clemente Walker (Momen ^[1]; The Great One)

• Bats Right, Throws Right
• Height 5' 11", Weight 175 lb.
• Debut April 17, 1955
• Final Game October 3, 1972
• Born August 18, 1934 in Carolina, Puerto Rico
• Died December 31, 1972 plane crash at sea near San Juan, P.R..

Inducted into Hall of Fame in 1973

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Contents 1 Introduction 2 Biographical Information 2.1 Momen: the early years_aka_pre-Columbian Clemente 2.2 Discovered by Dodgers, Signed by Santurce – Mo Goes Pro (1952–1953) 2.3 Brooklyn Bound?... Preemptive Purchase Ends Big Apple Bidding 'War' (1954) 2.4 Momen in Montreal (1954) 2.5 SAY HEY CLEMENTE: Momen Meets Mays in Santurce (1954 – 1955) 2.6 Missing In Action?... the first five seasons (1955 – 1959) 2.7 Coming of Age: finally healthy (1960 – 1961) 2.8 The Doldrums: Robby heats up, Buccos going nowhere (1962 – 1964) 2.9 Transition: Bye-bye, Danny; Hello, Harry (1965) 2.10 The Pinnacle (1966 and 1967) 2.11 Doldrums, Pt 2: Larry Shepard -- and injuries -- Take Over (1968 – 1969) 2.12 New Wine/Old Bottle? Bye-bye, Larry; Hello, Danny (1970 – 1971) 2.13 Roberto Reaches 3000: Pirates come up short (1972) 2.14 Final Chapter – October 12 thru December 31, 1972 2.15 PostScript: The Legacy 3 Five-Tool Flyhawk – Clemente's contemporaries chime in 3.1 The Arm 3.2 The Glove 3.3 The Legs 3.4 The Bat 3.5 The Club 3.6 The Total Package ['The Great-est One'?] 4 Moonshots, Milestones and More: miscellaneous memorable moments 5 Notable Achievements 6 Further Reading – including many linked articles 7 Related Sites 8 Notes

[edit] Introduction

"He gave the term 'complete' a new meaning. He made the word 'superstar' seem inadequate. He had about him the touch of royalty." - Bowie Kuhn ^[2]

Roberto Clemente is one of the most beloved figures in baseball history. He is the "Jackie Robinson" of Latin players and is an icon in Pittsburgh, where he spent his entire major league career; Puerto Rico, where he was born and raised; and Nicaragua, where he was taking relief supplies when he died. To this day, many Latin American players ^[3] [and others] ^[4] wear # 21 in his honor.

During his career with the Pirates, Clemente amassed 3,000 hits and four batting titles. He helped make the Bucs World Champs twice, in 1960 and 1971, in particular dominating the latter Series. Clemente was considered one of the greatest defensive right fielders in baseball history due in large part to his very strong and exceptionally accurate throwing arm. He was recognized for his ability, winning 12 consecutive Gold Gloves. This period of – perhaps belatedly recognized – preeminence would begin in 1961 and end only with Clemente's premature demise.

Nonetheless, he was largely underappreciated throughout his career – especially prior to being named 1966 NL MVP, but even to some extent up to the '71 WS MVP and beyond. This was due, in large part, to nagging injuries that both 1) caused his career to proceed in fits and starts [esp. the devastating pre-season injuries in '55, '57, '65, and '68], and 2) caused him to be labeled a hypochondriac, a somewhat specious diagnosis which neither his near-suicidal attraction to outfield fences ^[5] nor, for that matter, his very death itself could do much to dispel. Equally injurious to RC's pre-and-posthumous ranking is simply the matter of playing the bulk of his career amidst the vast expanse of Forbes Field which, in conjunction with the approach advocated by his batting coach George Sisler, kept his power numbers down – which, in turn, kept him from being viewed as the true five-tool, elite player he was. Finally, lest we forget, Clemente was of course a dark-skinned Hispanic at a time when American society had not yet fully accepted minorities in the major leagues. This prejudice – or, at the very least, provincialism plus insensitivity – was reflected in his Topps baseball cards, which for much of his career referred to him as "Bob Clemente", as well as in the persistent practice of even some highly sympathetic sportswriters to quote Clemente's heavily accented English utterances phonetically.

[edit] Biographical Information

[edit] Momen: the early years_aka_pre-Columbian Clemente

Roberto's mom, Luisa, spoke at length with Kal Wagenheim in 1973:

“Roberto was the youngest of my seven children. He was very strong, with hands that were different from the others. When he was about five years old, if he got hold of a quarter, he would say, ‘I’m going to have my picture taken!’ There were coin machines where you could take your picture. His older brothers would laugh and say, ‘This muchacho must think he’s handsome!’ He was born with that instinct, and it must have been his destiny because people took pictures of him all his life.” ^[6]

Nonetheless, posing for pictures was hardly his primary occupation. Luisa continues:

"Even as a young child, Roberto loved to play ball. He would lie down in bed and throw a rubber ball against the wall – back and forth, back and forth. As he grew, he would look for other children in the barrio to play with. Sometimes I’d dress him up nice and clean, and he’d come home full of dust and mud! I’d send him to the store on an errand, and he’d be gone for hours! I would say to him, ‘When you leave here, you have to tell us where you’re going!’ I raised my children at home, in a different epoch, not like nowadays. When I sent them on an errand to someone’s house, I would tell them, ‘You say buenos dias, give them what I sent with you, and don’t you dare enter unless they invite you.’ In those days, a child was raised to be very humble, not like today. He would ask for la benedicion of his parents. ‘Your blessing, papa. Your blessing, mama.’" ^[7]

This can't help but conjure up the image of the 37-year-old Clemente, immediately following game seven of the 1971 World Series, insisting on prefacing his comments to Bob Prince and the U.S. television audience with comments in Spanish to his fellow Puerto Ricans as a whole and to his parents in particular, once again asking for their blessing.

Clemente's latter-life friend, attorney – and avid baseball buff – Efren Bernier, looks back fondly at the family which provided Clemente's foundation:

“In a certain sense, Roberto was a man from another century. Although his family was very poor and had little schooling, it was a very ‘cultured’ family in the sense of values. They had a scale of priorities, and he was that way too." ^[8]

"Roberto thought very well of the Jibaros. They are a quiet people… very close to their families. They give to each other. He was like that." ^[9]

As Roberto himself recalled:

"When I was a boy, I realized what lovely people my mother and father were. I was treated real good. I learned the right way to live. I never heard any hate in my house. Not for anybody. I never heard my mother say a bad word to my father, or my father to my mother." ^[10] "During the war, when food was hard to get, my parents fed their children first and they ate what was left. They always thought of us.” ^[11] “My mother have to really work. My mother used to get up at one o’clock in the morning. She had to work and make lunches for these people that used to work in the sugar cane plantations. Now, my mother never went to a show. My mother, she didn’t know how to dance." ^[12] "But even the way we used to live, we were happy. We would sit down to eat and make jokes and talk and eat whatever there was. That was something wonderful... to grow up with people who had to struggle to eat.” ^[13]

His mom continues:

"Don Melchor was a strict father, but he was very affectionate with his children. For more than twenty years Melchor worked with the Victoria mill in Carolina as foreman of the brigades of cane-cutters. He had a paso fino horse that he rode to the fields, and sometimes one of the employees would mount Roberto on the horse and ride him back and forth, from the house to the highway. He loved that. When Roberto was a little older, Melchor had some trucks which he used for hauling sand and gravel for the construction trade. All the boys would help their papa, loading the trucks with shovels. Outside of family work, Roberto’s first real money was earned playing baseball.” ^[14]

Manuel Maldonado Denis, a friend of the Clementes who would later play pro ball on the island and, eventually, would go on to become professor of political science at the University of Puerto Rico, recalls the pre-teen prodigy:

“Momen, as we childhood friends called him, had the combative fury of very few athletes. I recall very well the day that his older brothers took him to play in the kids’ league at the Barrio San Anton School. He couldn’t have been older than ten and was probably younger. Some of us were much older. For example there was his brother Matino, whose catches at first base were the sensation of the barrio. And Lorenzo, another brother, who gripped the bat cross-handed and whose line drives shook the zinc roof of the schoolhouse. And Andres, who threw underhand style. They were the Clemente brothers: Matino, Lorenzo, Andres, and Momen. All you had to do was look at Momen to know that he had been born to play baseball.” ^[15]

Matino, speaking in 1974, recalls his younger brother:

“Roberto was a very mature boy, even when he was ten or so. Basically, he was a good kid. He did two things, played ball and stayed home. He never got into trouble. We called him ‘Momen’ from the time he was little. When he had grown up and become a star, no one could remember what the name meant. He was always quiet, never got whipped. We used to kid him about that.” ^[16]

Moreover, even at this early age, both his desire to help others and the leadership qualities/organizational skills so obvious later in life were easily discerned by Matino:

"If anybody needed help with advice or money, he would give it. Once, when he was about 11, there was an automobile accident. The car caught fire, and he crossed the highway and took the driver out so he wouldn’t burn. In school he was a leader. When they needed to build a fence to protect the school, he organized a group of boys and, through various activities, they raised money to help build the fence.” ^[17]

Maria Isabel Caceres, Clemente's high school history teacher and, forever thereafter, his lifelong friend, here recalls her early impressions. As fate would have it, it was Caceres' ex-husband, Roberto Marin, who would later engineer Clemente’s entry into and early progress within organized ball, first softball, then baseball. As we shall see, Caceres' first RC sighting would prove remarkably similar to Marin's:

“My first recollection of Roberto was a skinny youngster hitting tin cans with a broomstick along Carolina’s dusty streets. His father worked on a sugar plantation outside town. ^[18] He did not make much money. But then there are no rich children here. There never have been. Roberto was typical. I knew him when he was a small boy because his mother used to shop in my father's grocery store." ^[19] "Roberto and his brothers grew up playing ball. I remember especially well the first day he enrolled in the local high school, where I taught history and physical education." ^[20] "Each year, I let my students choose the seat they want. The first day Roberto came to my class he was very shy. He went straight to the back of the room and chose the last seat. Most of the time he would sit with his eyes down." ^[21] "When I called on him, he would answer quietly without looking up. Despite his shyness and the sadness around his eyes, there was something poignantly appealing about him." ^[22]

"After class he was very different. We would talk for hours." ^[23] "Later on, he’d come to visit me at home sometimes, and we would play records on the phonograph. He particularly loved to listen to danzas, Puerto Rico’s traditional music." ^[24] "[Roberto] never got into trouble like boys will. And I teased him about girls because he was so good-looking, even then. He was an average student – intelligent but not a scholar. I gave him a B in history.” ^[25]

Of course, even during this period [the mid to late 1940's], prior to his own participation in any kind of organized ball, Momen was intensely focused on baseball... and on one particular baseball player – Monte Irvin. Years later, his memories of Monte remained vivid as well as fond:

“The first hero that I have … I would say was Monte Irvin, when I was a kid.” ^[26] “I think he had the best eye, best stance and sharpest cut of all the big leaguers playing in Puerto Rico. He also field real good and throw like a bullet.” ^[27]

"I used to wait in front of the ballpark just for him to pass by so I could see him.” ^[28] "I never had enough nerve, I didn't want to even look him straight in the face. But when he passed by I would turn around and look at him because I idolized him." ^[29]

Fortunately for the young Irvin admirer, the ice was eventually broken – perhaps because his even younger friend and fellow baseball enthusiast [not to mention fellow future HOFer] Orlando Cepeda was considerably more outgoing and proactive than the shy and retiring Roberto. In any case, Momen was ultimately afforded the opportunity not just to meet and greet but to hang with his hero. Irvin recalls:

“There’d be youngsters hanging around, and we’d let the kids carry our bags to get in the park for free. Roberto and Orlando Cepeda, they were always there together. When he got into the majors, we renewed our friendship. We used to reminisce about the good old days in Puerto Rico.” ^[30]

But now we're getting ahead of ourselves. Back in 1948, a fateful encounter with his history teacher's ex, Roberto Marin, would bring about Momen's own long overdue entry into organized ball.

Speaking with Bruce Markusen in 1996, Luis Mayoral, who got to know both Robertos later in life, gives his impressions of Marin and, more important, of the man's immense influence on Clemente's development – from 'Momen' to 'The Great One':

"Marin was a salesman; he sold rice for the Sello Rojo Company. And as a salesman for Sello Rojo, he would travel to different parts of the island. In 1948, Roberto was driving around Barrio San Anton, and he told me many times that he saw a group of kids playing baseball, with guava tree limbs as bats. Guava tree limbs are very hard; that’s what they used to play with – also with broomsticks. And they used cans – like for spachetti or other foods – as baseballs. The kids would crush them, and that would be the ball. One day driving around San Anton, he stopped to take a look at the kids. He saw this one kid in particular – who turned out to be Roberto – and just by watching him for a few minutes, he saw the athletic abilities that Roberto had. And that led Marin to contact Roberto and ask him to play softball on the team sponsored by Sello Rojo Rice.I think that overall along the road of Roberto’s baseball career, he appreciated Marin’s friendship plus the fact that [Marin] was the one who really gave him the opportunity to leave his surroundings in barrio San Anton and start playing [organized ball].” ^[31]

Speaking with Phil Musick in 1974, Marin recalled that first glimpse of the tree-limb-wielding youngster:

"The way they would play – one player bats, the rest field. I see this one kid – he never strikes out. Bam! Bam! Bam! Tin cans all over the field! I say, 'Who are you?' He say, "I am Momen.' I told him to come to Carolina to try out for the softball team.” ^[32]

Needless to say Momen made the team, and over the next few years, Marin would usher the young prodigy through slow pitch softball, then fast pitch, then amateur baseball. If it took a couple of years for the youngster's offensive game to blossom, his defensive prowess was immediately apparent, as noted by Marin's colleague Juan Perez:

"He was an outstanding shortstop, but we always batted him eighth. He didn't hit well, but he made sensational plays in the field. His cap would always fall off and the people loved him.” ^[33]

Apparently, Marin did not entirely share these sentiments. After a couple of years, he decided Momen needed a change of scenery:

"I made him an outfielder. He was too slow for shortstop." ^[34]

Now, that's a bit odd to say the least. As we shall see shortly, starting with Dodger scout Al Campanis and continuing through Pittsburgh's Clyde Sukeforth and Howie Haak, speed was possibly the second most consistently lauded of Clemente's five tools throughout his career. Moreover, Marin himself had cited Clemente's speed in his account one year earlier to Kal Wagenheim. [See below.] Perhaps with Musick, Marin was referring to Roberto not getting a quick break on balls to either side. In any case, his decision to move Momen would prove possibly more momentous than had been the happy accident of simply finding him in the first place. What's more, the success which had eluded Clemente at the plate in the early going seems to have emerged in time to accompany his arrival in the defensive position which, in the eyes of many longtime observers, he would make his own. Here's Marin in 1973:

"Slowly, his name became known for his long hits to right field, and for his sensational catches. Everyone had their eyes on him. He was competing against top softball players, and as you know, a good softball pitcher is as about as hard to hit as a professional baseball pitcher. After the softball tournament, some teams in the Double A amateur baseball league became interested in Roberto. He was like an unpolished gem. he had a strong arm, speed; he was a complete athlete. So he began to play with the Juncos team in the Double A amateur baseball league.” ^[35]

In July of 1952, Marin decided his young discovery was ready to go pro:

“I told him that to me, he looked better than the professional outfielders here in the winter league. I told him I was going to take him to a tryout that a Brooklyn Dodger scout was going to hold in Santurce.” ^[36]

[edit] Discovered by Dodgers, Signed by Santurce – Mo Goes Pro (1952–1953)

The scout in question was one Al Campanis:

“I had done one of those camps a year or two before down in Aguadilla. Nothing. Then in ’52, I held one in Santurce at Sixto Escobar Stadium. Maybe seventy kids … seventy-two, I think." ^[37]

“We started with the outfielders. They lined up in center field and we hit fungoes to them, about 270 feet from home plate. The first outfielder threw, the second – below-average arms. The third man – I didn’t know his name yet – threw a dart on one bounce to third base. Threw the hell out of the ball. Then he threw another. I said, ‘That’s enough.’ Then we had the timed races – 60 yards. Everybody’s running about 7.2, 7.3, which is average major league time. Then Clemente came and ran a 6.4-plus. That’s a track man’s time! And in a baseball uniform!" ^[38] "Hell, the world’s record then was only 6.1. I couldn’t believe it." ^[39] "I asked him to run again, and he was even a little faster. He could fly!" ^[40] "We sent the other seventy-one players home.

“The only one I asked to hit was Roberto Clemente. He hit for 20, 25 minutes. I’m behind the cage, and I’m saying to myself, ‘We gotta sign this guy if he can just hold the bat in his hands.’ ^[41] “He got up to the plate, and he was hitting nothing but ropes – over the left-field fence, over the right-field fence… line drives!" ^[42] "I notice the way he’s standing in the box, and I figure there’s no way he can reach the outside of the plate. So I tell the pitcher to pitch him outside, and the kid swings with both feet off the ground and hits line drives to right and sharp ground balls up the middle.

“How could I miss him? He was the greatest natural athlete I have ever seen as a free agent." ^[43]

What with all these recollections coming considerably after the fact, the home run references in particular, one might reasonably speculate as to whether these assessments have been retroactively revised. Fortunately, however, Maraniss has provided rather compelling contemporary confirmation for all the retrospective raves. A reproduction of the original scouting report from the 1952 Campanis-conducted Dodger tryout gives RC high marks across the board: + for speed, A for fielding, A for hitting [though with accompanying note, "turns head but improving," a flaw which would not be eradicated – nor perhaps even readdressed – until Bucs batting coach George Sisler's intensive 1956 one-on-one spring training tutorial], A plus for arm strength and A plus for power. ^[44]

Still, one cannot help but notice that, both contemporary and post hoc proclamations notwithstanding, Clemente clearly had "held the bat in his hands" and then some, and yet was not signed. This has been attributed to various causes by the various biographies down through the years, all pretty much variations on a theme, i.e. that Campanis was legally prohibited from signing Clemente, either because he was under 18 or because he was still attending high school, or perhaps both?... In fact, Hano's 1967 Roberto Clemente, Batting King, which, by virtue of being the only biography of Clemente published during his lifetime and, thus, the only one benefitting from its subject's direct input, suggests that

• 1) Campanis was indeed ready and willing to sign the young phenom,
• 2) the legal difficulty presented by Roberto's age resided solely in the requisite requirement for parental consent:

"When the one-man show ended, Campanis suggested the boy join the Dodger farm system. Clemente's father turned down the idea. He wanted Roberto to finish high school." ^[45]

Whatever the explanation, Clemente was not signed; the flurry of major league signing offers would not come until early 1954, when Clemente had reached the ripe old age of 19 and a half [ruling out, one would think, the strictly age-based rationale]. As had the Dodgers, the Santurce Cangrejeros, co-sponsors of the '52 tryout, likewise took a rain check on Clemente. Marin, however, was not so easily deterred. Shortly thereafter, he would take matters into his own hands:

“Every Tuesday my job took me to the town of Manati. Pedrín Zorrilla – [owner of] one of the [winter league] clubs and a scout for the Brooklyn Dodgers – had a country house on the beach there. Roberto and I drove out to see Pedrín. Roberto was very quiet, didn’t say a word. Pedrín took a look at him and said, ‘Caramba, what a pair of hands!’ The truth is, Roberto had huge hands. I always used to kid him that he was one of the few persons I knew who could wash his face and his head at the same time with just one hand! ‘He’s an unpolished gem,’ I told Pedrín. They didn’t offer much to young players in those days and Roberto had no record to show. ‘I’d like to see him on the field,’ Pedrín said, so I wrote down Roberto’s name on a piece of paper, gave it to him, and said he could use it whenever he liked. The next weekend, Juncos was going to play an exhibition game in Manati. Zorrilla was there." ^[46]

Zorrilla, speaking with Phil Musick in 1974, recalls that day and the events leading up to it:

“In 1952 the Dodgers and our Santurce club organized a tryout camp for young players in Sixto Escobar Stadium. The park was filled with young men, and among them was Roberto Clemente. We saw that he had a strong arm, hit hard, but we never imagined what he would do later. He was still just a boy, and we lost track of him. Some months later, a good friend of mine, Roberto Marin, reminded me that I should see Roberto Clemente, who was playing with Juncos in the Double A Amateur League. ^[47]

“I’d forgotten all about him [when] I see this amateur-league kid wallop a 400-foot triple, two long doubles, and throw a man out at third from deep center field with as perfect a throw as anyone could ask for. ‘Who is that boy?’ I asked. 'Clemente,’ someone said. ‘Why, that’s the one I’ve been hearing so much about,' I said.” ^[48]

“Not long after that, on October 9, 1952, we signed Roberto to a contract on the Santurce Crabbers for a $400 bonus and $40 per week.” ^[49]

Marin recalls Momen's rookie season:

“The Winter League lasted about four months, seventy-two games; they played about four times a week. There were so many black American stars that the natives had to be darned good to play. In those days, the blacks played for little money. Right after Roberto signed, they put him on the bench. I would drive him back and forth to the park, and after several weeks he still hadn’t played. His team, Santurce, was the best in the league, and it was tough to break in.

"One day, in the car, he says to me, ‘You’ve got to talk to the manager, because if he doesn’t play me I’m quitting.’ We got to the park early. Roberto stayed outside, holding his little suitcase, completely silent. I went to Pedrín and told him, 'El negro tells me he wants a chance.’ I never mentioned Roberto’s threat about quitting. Pedrín says, ‘Remember when I signed him I said I wanted him to first learn how to put a uniform on, that’s all. It’s just his first year.’ 'But the boy is desperate!’ I said." ^[50]

In the 1974 conversation with Musick, Zorrilla would give the rationale for his stingy deployment of Clemente that first season:

“I never let the young ones play much. We had great pitchers here in the winter league – Satchel Paige, pitchers like that. The ball comes to the plate looking like an aspirin tablet. A young boy like Clemente strikes out three, four times in a row, he starts asking questions of himself: ‘Can I hit? Can I really play?' It is important he does not give himself the wrong answers.” ^[51]

Responding to Marin in 1952, however, Zorrilla simply passed the buck, as Marin recounts:

"He told me to go talk to the manager Buster Clarkson. ‘Look,’ I said to the manager, el negro is a bit upset, because we haven't given him a chance.’ ‘Well, Marin, I’ll put him in when I think it’s time. I’m the manager around here.’ I go back to Roberto and tell him, ‘He said he’ll give you a chance as soon as he can.’" ^[52]

Clarkson recalls the frustrated rookie:

“The main thing I had to do was keep his spirits up. He didn’t realize how good he was. But I could see his potential. I had three good outfielders, but he broke into the lineup during the first season I managed in Santurce." ^[53]

Marin recounts the particulars regarding Clemente's eventual promotion:

“Not much later, in Caguas, there were three men on base and it was Bob Thurman’s turn to hit. He was a terrific batter, who played in the majors for a while, although he never got a chance in his prime because he was black. But he was pretty weak against lefty pitchers, and that’s what Caguas had on the mound. So the time came. Clemente went in for Thurman and hit a long double to right field. That won the game, and Roberto got more chances from then on.” ^[54]

Predictably, Roberto's inevitable upgrade was not uniformly embraced. Clarkson again:

“Some of the old pros didn’t take too kindly to a kid breaking into the lineup, but Clemente was too good to keep out. He had a few rough spots, but he never made the same mistake twice. He had baseball savvy and he listened. He listened to what he was told and he did it. I told him he’d be as good as Willie Mays some day – and he was." ^[55]

Ironically, Momen would not yet have been in a position to appreciate the full extent of Clarkson's compliment at the time it was uttered, since his first-hand knowledge of big-leaguers was restricted to participants in Puerto Rican winter ball. Of course, in the fall of 1954 he would get a concentrated dose of such knowledge vis-a-vis Mays when the latter joined not only his league but his team.

Another of Clemente's future Santurce teammates, Luis Olmo, who – according to Clemente – was the actual source of the latter's basket catch [as opposed to Mays], first encountered the young five-tool phenom in the role of opposing manager:

"I was managing the other team. They had a man on base and this skinny kid comes out and well, we had never seen him, so we didn’t really know how to pitch to him. I decided to throw him a few bad balls and see if he’d bite. “He hit the first pitch. It was an outside fastball and he never should have been able to reach it. But he hit it down the line for a double. He was the best bad ball hitter I have ever seen, and if you ask major-league pitchers who are pitching today, they will tell you the same thing. After a while it got so that I just told my pitchers to throw the ball down the middle because he was going to hit it no matter where they put it, and at least if he decided not to swing, we’d have a strike on him." ^[56]

In his years managing and playing alongside Clemente, Clarkson would be left with one overriding impression:

“The big thing about Clemente was that he played hard and went all-out in every game. He did that when he was just a kid, and he did that all the way through his last season. He always had that aggressiveness. I saw that from the first. Maybe it was the thing about him as a ballplayer that people will remember most.” ^[57]

Getting back to 1953, the decision to play Clemente every day in his second season with Santurce was rewarded with a dramatically improved performance, his final .288 batting average good enough for 6th place in Puerto Rico and, evidently, good enough to generate renewed interest in North America.

[edit] Brooklyn Bound?... Preemptive Purchase Ends Big Apple Bidding 'War' (1954)

On February 19, 1954, Clemente finally did sign with Brooklyn for a $10,000 bonus. The Dodgers beat out a number of other clubs in the Clemente sweepstakes. They outspent the prior two entrants [their cross-river rivals in Manhattan and the Bronx] and simply beat the Milwaukee Braves to the punch. By far the biggest spenders of the bunch [by all accounts exceeding Brooklyn's offer by at least 150%], the Braves were just a tad tardy, Clemente having already accepted the Dodgers' terms.*

* In fact, while accepting their terms in principle, he had not yet actually signed a contract. Still, quaint though it may seem to us today, this was another era and so, in conjunction with his greater familiarity with Brooklyn and New York {the team of Jackie Robinson and a city, after all, already home to a significant Spanish-speaking population}, integrity – helped along by a little nudge from Luisa, Roberto’s mom – would ultimately prevail as the verbal agreement was honored. ^[58]

The stingiest of RC's prospective employers, the Yankees of New York, had apparently placed all their bonus 'eggs' in the Frank Leja 'basket'. While unprepared to offer the free-swinging Clemente more than $3,000 [$4,000 being the maximum signing bonus a club was allowed to pay without being required to keep the recipient on its major league roster for his first two seasons], the men in pinstripes had no problem biting that particular bullet on behalf of the next 'Lou Gehrig,' landing the left-handed Leja – in evident anticipation of massive quantities of dingers being deposited onto the short porch in right – with a sum fifty times that offered RC. The Monday morning quarterbacks among us may regard with some relish the modest returns [one hit in two years, three if you count Leja's non-Yankee 1962 0-for-16 'comeback' in LaLa land] realized on this two-year, $150,000 investment.

The Giants, while similarly unwilling to tie up a big league roster spot for two years on a raw, untested rookie, no matter how talented, did at least bump up against the aforementioned four thousand dollar ceiling, thus forcing the Dodgers' hand. Shortly thereafter, the Brooklyn contingent would indeed come across with the best offer by far, thus far, and not a moment too soon to beat out the big-spending Braves.

So now the Dodgers had him. Now came the hard part – what to do with him. By exceeding the $4,000-limit (as they would do again the following year with Sandy Koufax), they’d obliged themselves to do one of two things: either keep Clemente on the major league roster for the entire season – probably as a fourth outfielder – or send him to one of their minor league affiliates, thus exposing him to the draft in November and, by so doing, almost certainly lose him. The Dodgers opted for the latter. Why? For many years, Dodger GM Buzzie Bavasi claimed that there had simply been no room for Roberto on the roster and that the Dodgers had in fact only signed Clemente as a preemptive measure to keep the Giants from having Willie Mays and Clemente in the same outfield.*

* Ironically, had the Dodgers simply sat on their hands and let the Giants’ lowball offer stand, they would have had nothing to worry about – at least in terms of their battle for NY news ink and box office receipts – what with the Braves blowing into town, blowing the preceding offers out of the water, and removing Momen from the Greater Metropolitan Area altogether. On the other hand, if the Dodgers were in fact just as worried about winning as about the bottom line, then they should have been even more relieved about having preempted the Braves. As tantalizing and frustrating as the image of Clemente and Mays or, for that matter, Clemente and Mantle patrolling the outfield side by side may have been to Giants and Yankees fans, respectively [to say nothing of fans of the Great One himself], sticking Clemente in the middle of Aaron, Adcock and Mathews could have resulted in the grisliest 'murderers’ row' in the history of the game; minus the daunting dimensions of Forbes Field and the pre-Babe-Ruth-era-orientation of Pirate batting coach George Sisler **, Clemente would probably have been delivering not just massive home runs, but massive quantities of same. One could easily see Milwaukee’s two-year run expanding into something more closely resembling a dynasty.

** I am aware that Ruth started his career a year earlier than did Sisler. However, while Sisler was quickly establishing himself as a premier offensive player, Ruth was still primarily a pitcher. Thus, the latter's dramatically innovative approach to batting had not yet had a chance to take hold and gather adherents.

In a number of interviews conducted between the years 2003 and 2005, very near the end of his life, Bavasi finally fessed up regarding Clemente’s banishment to Montreal; as had been rumored for the intervening half-century, it was not just a matter of too much talent at the top, but rather too much black talent. According to Bavasi’s belated bombshell, Dodger owner Walter O’Malley was the source of these concerns, apparently opposing both Bavasi and Dodger scout Al Campanis – Campanis being the one who’d first ‘discovered’ Clemente in 1952 at a tryout/clinic in Puerto Rico jointly sponsored by the Dodgers and the Santurce Cangrejeros, with whom RC would sign shortly thereafter. Both Campanis ^[59] and Bavasi [in the aforementioned revelations] claimed in retrospect to have lobbied on behalf of keeping Clemente on the big league roster. As Bavasi recalled it, O’Malley’s concerns appear to have been twofold. First of all, there was the anticipated backlash directed towards the new arrival by fans, possibly, but primarily by his Dodger teammates. In addition, there were the concerns expressed to O’Malley by two of his partners who feared that were the Dodgers to boost their level of minority representation beyond a certain point, it would somehow result in pressure being bought to bear on them to do likewise in their own companies.

[edit] Momen in Montreal (1954)

In any case, long before he came clean on Clemente’s exclusion, Bavasi would spill the beans regarding Clemente’s concealment. Speaking to Sports Illustrated in 1967, Bavasi said:

"We ordered Montreal to keep him under wraps any way they could. Up there he was eligible for the baseball draft, and we didn’t want to lose anybody as promising as this kid. On the other hand, we didn’t realize how great he was or we’d have put him on the big club right away and protected him from the draft regardless of who we’d have to unload.

"At Montreal, to keep Clemente from looking too good, our manager, Max Macon, kept moving him in and out of the lineup. Poor Roberto! He’d strike out and Max would let him play the whole game. If he hit a home run, Max would get him out of there quick. He was benched one game because he had hit three triples the day before. He was taken out for a pinch hitter with the bases loaded in the first inning of another game. You can imagine how this must have puzzled the kid. The net effect was to hold his batting average down to .257, and we figured he was safe from the draft." ^[60]

Twenty years later, in his autobiography, Bavasi writes:

“So we attempted to hide him at Montreal. We did everything in our power to ensure that Clemente would not shine. We did not play him against left-handed pitchers, we played him only against the best right-handed pitchers; he was benched the day after hitting three triples in a game. It worked to an extent – we kept his average down to .257.” ^[61]

In a sense, the ‘revelation’ embodied in these two accounts is largely semantic since, on the matter of what actually happened that season in Montreal, as opposed to how Bavasi was prepared to describe what happened, the Dodger GM had actually been pretty consistent. Back in May of 1955, after Clemente – then one month into his freshman season – had been tearing up National League pitching in a Pirates uniform, Bavasi was maintaining that everything was fine, that things had gone exactly according to plan vis-à-vis Clemente.

“That’s right. We didn’t want the Giants to have Clemente and a fellow like Willie Mays in the same outfield. It was a cheap deal for us.” ^[62]

Readers may recognize that passage from Stew Thornley’s 2006 essay critiquing the existing scholarship re Clemente's season in Montreal. The following excerpt from the same TSN article did not find its way into that essay but, I would maintain, is even more telling:

“So we knew we were going to lose him in the draft, so why should we spend time developing him for another team? We used the players who would belong to us and Clemente played defense in the late innings or went up as a pinch hitter [sic *]. ^[63]

* In fact, Clemente’s pinch-hitting appearances were relatively infrequent, significantly outnumbered by his pinch-running stints. However, the most common mode of entry into a game for Clemente was, indeed, as a late-inning defensive replacement.

So just what exactly is Bavasi up to here? Well, aside from wiping egg off the collective face of the Dodger front office, he is covering his butt and theirs vis-a-vis the Commissioner who, understandably, might be a bit peeved to find the Dodgers flouting the recently imposed rule designed to prevent exactly what the Dodgers went ahead and tried to do anyway – i.e. hoarding a hot prospect in the minors.

Note, though, Bavasi’s contemporary rationale for not playing Clemente: not that he wasn’t good enough [as per Thornley], but that, in effect, he was too good. As would both Al Campanis and Montreal manager Max Macon [the not-altogether-on-board participant in and ultimate scapegoat for Bavasi's failed attempt to keep Clemente under wraps], Bavasi expresses the belief that there was no way to hide the rifle-armed rookie who, in Macon's words, "just radiated ability."^[64] Since it was inevitable he’d be drafted, reasons Bavasi, why play him just to develop him for another club? Of course, when you think about it, Bavasi’s conveniently circular rationale is a veritable Catch Twenty-Two, a more complete and less discreet version of which might go something like this:

‘Of course, since he’s DEFINITELY going to be drafted, we’d be IDIOTS to play him and develop him for someone else. On the other hand, as long as we’re not playing him, maybe we get lucky and he doesn't get drafted... But OH NO, Mr. Commissioner! We’re CERTAINLY not hiding him. Perish the thought!!’

By this point, recent – or at least retentive – readers of the aforementioned Thornley piece may be a bit puzzled.

On the one hand, we have Montreal manager Max Macon, who would go to his grave [in 1989] denying that he'd hidden – or, at least, had been ordered to hide – Clemente, being contradicted by his boss in no uncertain terms on two separate occasions, the first time four years before Macon is first interviewed on this matter, the last time two year before Macon's death, 13 years after the feisty player-manager's final word on the subject.

On the other, one cannot help but notice that, much like the authors whose assertions are challenged by Thornley, Bavasi is, by and large, incorrect in the particulars with which he fleshes out his 'confession.'

Perhaps 'incorrect' is a bit of a misnomer. Many of the challenges by Thornley are made not on the basis of innaccurate reporting of events, but rather misinterpretation of those events: i.e. the fact that the seemingly arbitrary – or even Machiavellian – manipulation of Clemente's playing time could usually be explained by Macon's strict adherence to platooning. In fact, Clemente did not start a single game that season against a right-handed starter. Of course he didn't start the majority of games opposite left-handers either, only being even the right-handed – i.e. lesser-used – platoon participant for approximately half the season [the first 3 weeks, the final 6 weeks, plus the playoffs; in all, starting 42 of 172 Royals contests that year, finishing only 26 of those].

In addition, it's interesting to note that Macon, the otherwise compulsive platooner, actually sends the ostensibly overmatched right-handed rookie up to pinch-hit against right-handers more often than not, an anomaly never addressed by Thornley. Moreover, the rationale for restricting Clemente to a platoon role in the first place seems shaky at best, seeing as how the prodigious July 25 game-winning blast which triggered Clemente's return to the lineup was hit off a right-hander, as would be his only other home run that year on September 5 aginst Syracuse, likewise an extra-inning, walkoff shot. Similarly unaddressed by Thornley, this seeming anomaly begins to make sense when seen as Macon's attempt to walk a fine line – i.e. balancing both the Montreal fans' and his own desire to see more of Clemente against the desperate desire of his employer to somehow stave off the inevitable, the loss of Clemente.

Now Macon was certainly one of the most competitive – and combative – figures to ever play the game, ot to manage it for that matter. It certainly wouldn't be a shocker to see him chafing under the restrictions placed upon him by Bavasi. Nonetheless, the mere title of this 1954 Baseball Digest article, "Macon Has the Makin's: New Montreal Pilot Destined For Bums," makes it plain to see that even Macon, ornery cuss that he was, would be reluctant to burn his bridges, as it were, before reaching his destination.

This reticence would continue long after Macon had parted ways with Bavasi and the Dodgers, long after any realistic prospects of managing in the majors had vanished. In fact, by the time Frank Eck's 1971 AP story, "Macon Says Roberto was Not Hidden," appeared, Macon had been employed for years as, of all things, a scout by, of all possible employers, the Pittsburgh Pirates. This situation produced numerous opportunities for Macon to protest his innocence to a disbelieving Clemente.

Getting back to 1954, however, Montreal's manager was clearly caught between the proverbial 'rock' and 'hard place.' For all his tortured machinations, Macon's maneuvering would prove academic in the end. Clemente's performance in limited playing time had not escaped the attention of Pittsburgh Pirates scouts Clyde Sukeforth and Howie Haak. After the season ended, Haak would follow Clemente to Puerto Rico and witness the prospective Pirate's much-improved performance when allowed to play every day. Armed with Sukeforth's and Haak's most emphatic recommendations as well as a rather impressive endorsement from Clemente's – and Mays' – manager in Puerto Rico, Herman Franks, whose letter to Rickey – excerpted in TSN (1/12/55), p. 18 – called Clemente "the best player in the league, except for Willie Mays," Pirate GM Branch Rickey selected Clemente with the first pick in the Rule V Draft on November 22, 1954.

[edit] SAY HEY CLEMENTE: Momen Meets Mays in Santurce (1954 – 1955)

Thanks to the Montreal manager's necessarily compromised late-season boost to Clemente's playing time with the Royals, the youngster got at least a sort of 'spring training' for the upcoming '54-55 season in Santurce. As we will see, he would make the most of it. As Santurce owner Pedrín Zorrilla recalled in 1973:

“Roberto went to Montreal for the 1954 season, but what I think helped him most is when he played that winter with Santurce, and Willie Mays joined the club. Willie was the batting champion of the National League that year with a .345 average, and it was really something to see Clemente and Mays in the outfield. Mays had to go all out, and Clemente was right at his heels! Even with Mays there, he was one of the team’s stars. So he saw he could compete, even against the best.” ^[65]

Just how the Giants' franchise player happened to end up playing in Puerto Rico that winter is a bit of a story unto itself, recounted here by Clemente's friend and confidant Luis Mayoral:

“He had befriended Mr. Stoneham, the owner then of the Giants. It was during a party in New York prior to that 1954-55 winter season that they were having drinks. And Pete would always say laughing that he got Mr. Stoneham drunk, and that’s the only way Stoneham gave him permission to have Willie Mays go and play in Puerto Rico.” ^[66]

Mays would not only usurp Monte Irvin's place in Momen's personal pantheon, but would also become something of a mentor to his impressive but inexperienced teammate. As Roberto Marin recalls:

“The best thing that ever happened to Roberto came the next season when he played next to Willie Mays, who was about five years older and was already a major league star. Roberto played left field and Mays was in center. They got along very well together, a young boy with a young star. Mays was a very good guy... I think it was the inspiration of playing next to a star like Mays, and doing a good job, that was most important. Anyway, that year Roberto became a first class ball player. From then on, he went up and up.” ^[67]

“[Mays] told him how to charge a ball, told him not to worry about gambling on a catch at his ankles because in the major leagues other outfielders would back him up.” ^[68]

Note: The aforementioned usurpation of Irvin's 'throne' by the young Mays was not quite so abrupt a transition as it might first appear since at least some small portion of the knowledge being passed down to Clemente was originally acquired by Mays from none other than Irvin himself who, by a coincidence whose irony can only be described as exquisite, was something of a mentor to Mays during the latter's rookie season in 1951.

In 1972, Mays himself recalled that fateful '54-55 season in Santurce:

“[The chance to earn some additional income in the off-season] took me to Puerto Rico, where Herman Franks was managing the Santurce team in the winter league there. It was fun, even though they take their baseball more seriously down there.* We had a good club, and everybody wanted to win – and when you’ve got people like Gomez and Roberto Clemente on your side in the Puerto Rican league, you’ve got a chance to win, and we did win.” ^[69]

* To see just how seriously, see Saul Pelt's contemporary mid-term report on Willie's season in Santurce, "Fans Don't Enjoy baseball in Puerto Rico, They Suffer With It".

In fact, not only did Mays, Gomez, Clemente and company win, they won it all, steamrolling their way to the 1955 Caribbean Championship. Again, Pedrín Zorrilla remembers:

“One of my favorite memories of Roberto is that year when Santurce, with Clemente and Mays, went to Caracas, Venezuela, to play in the Caribbean Series – representing Puerto Rico against Cuba, Panama, and the host country. There were many major leaguers on the rosters. In the deciding game, Clemente was on first in the final inning and Mays hits one to right, where the outfielder ^[70] bobbled the ball for just a second. Clemente took off like a shot the moment that Mays connected and flew around third, although the coach tried to stop him. Gus Triandos was the catcher for the other team. The ball arrived at the same time as Clemente slid, spikes in the air, and we won the game. That exhibition of Clemente’s great speed and spirit was one of the most emotional moments in my life. He made many fine plays in the United States, but to win a game for Puerto Rico for our club in the Caribbean Series was a great moment. In fact, not long ago in Pittsburgh someone asked Clemente if he had ever played on a team with the slugging power of the 1971 Pirates. He said yes – the Santurce Crabbers, when they won the Caribbean Series!” ^[71]

[edit] Missing In Action?... the first five seasons (1955 – 1959)

[edit] Coming of Age: finally healthy (1960 – 1961)

[edit] The Doldrums: Robby heats up, Buccos going nowhere (1962 – 1964)

[edit] Transition: Bye-bye, Danny; Hello, Harry (1965)

[edit] The Pinnacle (1966 and 1967)

[edit] Doldrums, Pt 2: Larry Shepard -- and injuries -- Take Over (1968 – 1969)

[edit] New Wine/Old Bottle? Bye-bye, Larry; Hello, Danny (1970 – 1971)

[edit] Roberto Reaches 3000: Pirates come up short (1972)

[edit] Final Chapter – October 12 thru December 31, 1972

On December 23, 1972, a massive earthquake struck the Central American country of Nicaragua. The quake pushed the famed 'Immaculate Reception' off the front page in Pittsburgh; tragically, it would prove to be the more important moment in Pittsburgh sports.

Clemente, himself only weeks removed from a month in Nicaragua managing Puerto Rico in the Amateur World Series, was recruited by television personality Luis Vigoraux and entertainer/activist Ruth Fernandez to help organize the relief effort in Puerto Rico. Clemente, already a hero on the island, instantly became the face of this project and, in customary hands-on style, quickly became its de facto leader as well. As Vigoraux recalls:

"He did not just lend his name to the fund-raising activities the way some famous personalities do. He took over the entire thing, arranging for collection points, publicity and the transportation to Nicaragua." ^[72]

On December 31, Clemente died when the plane he was riding crashed off the coast of Puerto Rico, en route to deliver relief supplies to victims of the disaster.

[edit] PostScript: The Legacy

On January 24, 1973, Clemente was elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame by the Baseball Writers Association of America. He is one of three Hall of Fame players to be inducted without the mandatory five year wait, Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig being the others.

Clemente's posthumous acclaim, however, did not end there nor was it confined to Cooperstown. On May 13 that same year, he would receive the Congressional Gold Medal, the first baseball player so honored. The very next day, he became the first individual of any description to receive the Presidential Citizens Medal, an award newly minted in his honor by then President Richard M. Nixon. Following are the latter's comments on that occasion:

"We are here for the presentation of the first Presidential Citizens Medal, and I am very honored and this office is honored that that first medal – which we know will be awarded in the future to distinguished Americans for their service – that first medal goes to Roberto Clemente.

“I would like to read the citation, because it is better than any speech I could make, I think, with regard to Roberto Clemente:

“Citizens Medal Citation, Roberto Clemente: ‘All who saw Roberto Clemente in action, whether on the diamond or on the front lines of charitable endeavor, are richer for the experience. He stands with that handful of men whose brilliance has transformed the game of baseball into a showcase of skill and spirit, giving universal delight and inspiration. More than that, his selfless dedication to helping those with two strikes against them in life blessed thousands and set an example for millions. As long as athletes and humanitarians are honored, Roberto Clemente’s memory will live; as long as Citizens Medals are presented, each will mean a little more because this first one went to him." ^[73]

On Monday, August 6, came the formal HOF induction ceremonies. Clemente would enter the Hall in the company of two equally worthy candidates. For Warren Spahn, this was a richly deserved and, no doubt, infinitely gratifying honor. For Clemente's other co-inductee, however, the moment was bittersweet at best. On the one hand, Monte Irvin would enter the Hall alongside his greatest admirer and greatest protege; on the other, this exquisite and poetic synchronicity had – and indeed could – only come to pass thanks to Momen's untimely end.

Clemente had always felt a strong sense of loyalty to his team and especially its fans. During the 1972 strike, which came at a time when free agency was becoming an issue, Clemente wrote a letter to Pirates management stating that he would never have taken advantage of free agency had it been available. The letter was made public by the team in 1994 at the unveiling of the Clemente statue outside Three Rivers Stadium.

The Clemente family name lived on in the 1980s as Clemente's eldest son Roberto Clemente Jr. played in the minor leagues for the Philadelphia Phillies, San Diego Padres, and Baltimore Orioles from 1984 to 1990. His second son Luis Clemente was selected by the Pirates in the 1984 amateur draft. He is also the uncle of Edgard Clemente.

Among the things named for Clemente are the Roberto Clemente Museum, Memorial_Park Roberto Clemente Memorial Park and Roberto Clemente Bridge in Pittsburgh, Estadio Roberto Clemente Walker and Avenida Roberto Clemente in Carolina, Puerto Rico, Coliseo Roberto Clemente in San Juan, Puerto Rico, Estadio Roberto Clemente in Nicaragua, a state park in the Bronx, NY, a city park in Cleveland, and schools in Rochester, NY, New Haven, CT, Milford, CT, Chicago, IL, Allentown, PA, Germantown, MD, Philadelphia, PA, Paterson, NJ, and Ypsilanti, MI.

The newly named parks and schools would no doubt have pleased Momen no end, given his lifelong affinity for children. Even more immediately relevant, though, to the way he lived – and died – was the Roberto Clemente Award [quickly renamed thus in 1973 after a brief existence as the Commissioner's Award], presented annually to the player who best embodied Clemente's admonition to make good on every "opportunity... to make things better for someone coming behind you," the alternative being clearly stated – i.e. "wasting your time on this earth." ^[74] *

* The speech from which this quote is excerpted was delivered at the annual Houston baseball dinner held on January 29, 1971.^[75] Clemente, there to receive the Tris Speaker Award, brought down the house with his acceptance speech, judged by many attendees as "the best talk any baseball player ever made," according to John Wilson's informal survey of those present. Morris Frank, the evening's MC, was even moved to issue the following injunction to the Rev. Tom Bagby, himself saddled with the suddenly thankless task of delivering the evening's invocation:

"Tom, you'd better learn to play right field. This guy has taken your field." ^[76]

Of course the institution which would bear Clemente's name and bring together his love of sports and of children was the Ciudad Eportiva Roberto Clemente [aka Sports City].

On the playing field, we've already noted the proud multi-generational tradition of paying tribute to The Great One by wearing number 21. Of course, wearing that number was much like being a parent: that is to say, becoming one is the easiest thing in the world, while it's the effort you put in from that point on that determines whether you'll be one worthy of the name. Candy Maldonado recalls a case in point:

"The people that knew Clemente always said, ‘If you want to wear that number, this is the way you do things.’ I was playing in 1978 in Arecibo (in winter ball) and Jack McKeon was my manager. I didn’t run hard on a ground ball. One-hopper to short, I didn’t bust my tail. I went to first base and instead of taking my helmet, the first base coach said, ‘You’re wanted in the dugout.’ Jack says to me, ‘It seems you’re tired. You sit here.’ Then after a while he said to me, ‘If you’re going to play in the big leagues and wear that number, you always go hard." ^[77]

Clemente's onfield legacy, however, was also handed down in less obvious ways. Stargell elaborates:

“I learned how to play the game from him, and it was kinda like he passed a baton or torch to me, like how to win. There are certain things you must do to win. It’s a big thing. Guys come in every year who have talent. But it’s more than just talent. It’s not something that’s easy to define, or to find. But we did it. We knew how to win. First of all, he’d teach us and show us how to do little things, like to be aggressive going into the corner after a ball. In order to do that, he’d take me out in the field, and show me the mechanics. He’d walk through the motions, and talk about the right steps and when to start bending – the positioning, how to maintain your balance, all that stuff. There was always a backup system, too, depending on what the baserunners did. And he’d talk about how to catch a fly ball and how to throw the ball. It’s what I teach young kids today. I’d challenge anyone to go against his theory. Dave Parker was very accurate and I was very accurate. Clemente taught us how to do it right.” ^[78]

Parker readily concurs:

“When I first signed with the Pirates, I signed on as a catcher. I had a technique of throwing the ball, but it was a catcher’s throw, not an outfielder’s throw." ^[79] "I short-armed the ball." ^[80] "Robby first made me aware of the difference. ‘You can get a lot more on that throw if you stretch your arm out.’ He showed me how to throw the ball from the outfield. Robby also showed me how to properly grip the ball before throwing it, and how you grab the ball out of your glove with that same grip each time. By gripping the ball a certain way with your fingers across the strings, you could keep it from slicing. It had to be a routine.

“When you’re getting this advice from a guy as great as Clemente, it sinks in immediately." ^[81]"He was a huge influence on me." ^[82] “His work ethic was impeccable. He went out and worked hard every day.” ^[83]

Jerry Morales, an outstanding defensive outfielder best remembered for his mid-seventies stint with the Chicago Cubs, was but a star-struck kid when first he met RC. Ah, but what a fruitful meeting it was:

“When I was 15, he came to my hometown for a clinic. I remember everything, particularly the things he taught me about playing the outfield. It helped me my whole career. He showed me the way to throw the ball, and the way to catch it, and the best way to hit the cutoff man, and he taught me how to learn to anticipate where the ball would come. [When Clemente selected me as a member of the Puerto Rican all-star team he was managing], I was playing center field, right next to him in right field. It was a thrill. Everything he taught me helped me my whole career, and I try to teach the kids the same way.” ^[84]

Of course, Clemente's classroom was not confined to kids. Future Bucs' bullpen staple Kent Tekulve remembers the Professor holding forth in Bradenton in the spring of 1971:

"Back then, most of the regular players would play two or three or four innings, then go out and do some running in the outfield. They’d go to the clubhouse from there; they’d take a shower and be out on the golf course by the time guys like me were even getting in the games. Not Clemente. He’d come down to the bullpen area in right field. The pitchers and catchers would fill the benches down there. There would be several Latin players too, because they wanted to catch Clemente when he’d come down. So Clemente would just plop down on the grass and hold court. He loved to talk about hitting.

"He’d be sitting there, talking to all these young kids. It wasn’t about mechanics, you know – like how to hold the bat, or where to stand, or stuff like that. It was more about theory, what he was trying to do as a hitter. It helps explain his unorthodox style. You’d never teach anyone to stand up at the plate like he did, or to hold the bat like he did, or to swing at some of the pitches he lashed at. He wanted to hit the ball with the bat going down through it. The ball would come off the bat with backspin. It will carry that way. I realized it more when I played golf because the same thing applies there. If you hit up at it you get topspin and the ball goes down. Most guys just want to make contact; they’re happy if they can put their bat on the ball. But Clemente was more precise in what he wanted to accomplish. He wanted to keep his hands back, and hit down on the ball with that heavy bat he used. Hearing him talk, you knew he was somebody on a separate level. They say Ted Williams was like that. He’d sit there four or five innings a day, just talking about things. Like balance, things he was trying to accomplish at the plate …

“I’d go back to my room at Pirate City and figure out how I could counteract that. How could I keep batters off balance? How could I offset the sort of things good hitters like Clemente could do? I’d go over in my mind all the things he talked about. I’d sit around my room for hours. How could I keep hitters from doing what they wanted to do? He was so detailed. He wanted to talk to these kids. Everybody learned from him … I probably learned more about pitching to good major league batters from Clemente than I did from any pitching coaches.” ^[85]

It must also be noted that RC's Adult Ed matriculants were hardly confined to teammates. Bob Watson ^[86], Tony Taylor ^[87] and Lee May ^[88] could all attest to that. Bobby Bonds spoke with TSN a couple of months after Clemente's death, just prior to the 1973 season;

“I talked with Clemente a lot last season. I asked him his philosophy on hitting and playing. I learned some things. Roberto told me if you can’t give your best every time you hit a ball, why play? Then I asked myself, ‘When did Roberto ever loaf?’ The last time I saw Clemente, he said he’d talk with me more this year. Now he’s gone. But Roberto opened my eyes – a player should always give 100 percent or not play.” ^[89]

Bonds' young son, a frequent visitor to the ballpark in those days, still harbors vivid pre-teen memories of The Great One:

“I take more pride in my defense because I always admired Roberto Clemente and the way he had that spin move in right field. He could throw from the right field corner to third base.” ^[90] “When I’m done, I want people to say, ‘He’s the best.’ Right field belongs to Roberto Clemente, center field belongs to Willie Mays. I want left field to belong to me.” ^[91]

Another similarly configured father-son pair underwent somewhat more rigorous and detailed course work in the Clemente curriculum, if only indirectly, courtesy of an illustrious RCU alumnus then engaged as a coach by the Atlanta Braves. Ken Griffey, Jr., explains:

“I started out as a pitcher and first baseman. I went to the outfield when I was 14 and I had to learn to play center. Dad didn’t help me. He just told me ‘Go, get ’em.’ Willie taught me footwork, positioning, how to get a jump, how to read a ball.”

Junior was also in the unusual position that season of playing in the big leagues alongside his dad who, as he suggested, was equally in need of outfield tutoring. Griffey Sr. freely admits as much:

“And I learned right along with Junior. I could never tell Junior anything because we didn’t know exactly what to do. Coming up with Cincy, they did not coach us, they just told us, ‘Go catch it; if you can’t catch it, pick it up and hit the cutoff man with your throw.’ And Stargell knew his stuff. He had learned outfield from Roberto Clemente. Junior was 17 and I was 36, and there we were taking instruction together.” ^[92]

Momen, so long the ardent champion and defender of the family unit, would have been tickled to see that.

Clemente's memory was the center of attention before the 2006 All-Star Game. His widow and Bill Mazeroski, among others, attended in his honor. ^[93]

On Wednesday, August 22, 2007 [four days after his 73rd birthday], Roberto was named to the Rawlings All-Time Gold Glove Team,^[94] selected by fans from a fifty-player candidate pool nominated by former players, managers and reporters.^[95]

Clemente's place in the history of the game was – no doubt inadvertently but movingly nonetheless – highlighted as he was joined in the all-time outfield by both his onetime mentor Willie Mays and his disciple once removed Ken Griffey Jr.

"I am convinced that God wanted me to be a baseball player. I was born to play baseball." - Roberto Clemente

[edit] Five-Tool Flyhawk – Clemente's contemporaries chime in

[edit] The Arm

"Some right fielders have rifles for arms, but he had a howitzer." - Tim McCarver

"Clemente could field the ball in New York and throw out a guy in Pennsylvania." - Vin Scully

Clemente was considered one of the greatest defensive right fielders in baseball history due in large part to his very strong and exceptionally accurate throwing arm. On five occasions [1958, 1960, '61, '66 and '67] he would lead the National League in outfield assists, peaking in '61 - his career year offensively as well up to that point - at a somewhat scary total of 27, particularly impressive for someone seven years in the league.

Bill James, hugely influential baseball historian/statistician, surely needs no introduction here, and his overall estimation of Clemente is likely only slightly less well known. Certainly, the following quote is not representative of that estimation which – as revealed in James' writings over the years – is for the most part negative, or at least corrective of what James sees as a prevailing overvaluation of Clemente. James’ reevaluation, however, is based almost exclusively on his analysis of the statistical record. For a good introduction to that analysis, see The New Bill James Historical Baseball Abstract. The quote below, drawn from the original edition of the Abstract, is the only example I’ve yet encountered, in an admittedly less-than-exhaustive search, of a Clemente-related passage in James based on observation.

"I’ve been trying a little experiment, asking baseball fans that I meet who had the best throwing arm they ever saw. It’s very rare that anybody who is old enough to remember seeing him play doesn’t immediately say “Clemente.” For younger fans, you just can’t believe what it was like; I hope we see another one like it, or you’ll never believe that it was possible. His throws combined strength, accuracy and speed of release in whatever proportions were necessary to get the job done. Freddie Patek once told me he saw Clemente throw people out at the plate from the warning track at Forbes Field, over 350 feet away. I never saw him do that but I saw him grab a double in the gap and fire it to second base to make it an oops/single, when the entire transaction was so lightning fast that even having seen him do it four or five times, you still couldn’t believe it was possible.” ^[96]

Incidentally, readers will search in vain for the foregoing passage in the more recent – and more obtainable – edition of the Abstract. Apparently James came to his senses in time to excise even this bit of youthful gushing from his 'mature' opus.

Many of Clemente's teammates have noted how he often seemed to notch it up to an even higher level than usual when going up against Mays and the Giants. Here's a contemporary account from 1967:

"With the Pirate infield tucked in rather closely, Cline rolled a single past Donn Clendenon at first base and Schroder was on his way to a certain death. He challenged the best arm in the National League, the rifle that hangs from the shoulder of Roberto Clemente, and Roberto threw out Schroder into the glove of Maury Wills. The throw was so low in its flight from bare hand to glove, Cline could not risk an advance to second. Mays followed with a single that would have scored Bob had he not given Clemente the challenge." ^[97]

The Say Hey Kid himself usually knew better than to test his former pupil. Mays' teammate Gaylord Perry recalls opening day 1965:

"Mays rounds third and screeches to a halt. When the world’s best baserunner puts on the brakes on a hit to right, you know it’s because the world’s best arm is in right. And it was a close game – we needed that run.” ^[98]

As Les Biederman reported:

"Mays didn't even think of trying to score. 'The ball was hit too good and Clemente got it at his knees,' Mays explained. 'I just couldn't take a chance on Clemente's arm.” ^[99]

Of course an aggressive baserunner like Mays – or Clemente for that matter – is going to push the envelope once in a while no matter who is in the outfield. Looking back at his career in 1998, Mays could recall exactly one instance of being thrown out going first to third:

“Roberto Clemente threw me out on a bang-bang play at third. I should have remembered what a tremendous arm he had.” ^[100]

If Mays’ recollection is correct, the play he’s referring to took place about 30 years before in Candlestick Park on Saturday, April 13, 1968, almost three years to the day after the more cautious encounter cited above. In '68 as in '65, despite Mays' altered approach, the result remained a one-run defeat hung on hard-luck loser Perry:

“When Willie McCovey, the next hitter, bounced a single over Donn Clendenon’s outstretched glove into right field, it appeared the dam had been broken and runs would flow.” ^[101] “Then came the key play of the game. Mays rounded second base and slowed down to draw a throw from right fielder Roberto Clemente.” ^[102] “Mays, either overestimating his own speed or underestimating the power and accuracy of Clemente’s arm, was thrown out trying to reach third. Maury Wills tagged him as he slid by.” ^[103]

Mays, like Clemente, had a cannon for an arm but, according to both Hank Sauer and Eddie Mathews, who played respectively with and against Mays in his prime, Clemente had the clear edge in accuracy. Sauer spoke with writer Danny Peary:

“Could Clemente ever throw! Even better than Mays – he was more accurate.” ^[104]

Mathews compared the two in his autobiography:

“Another guy that never got attention was Roberto Clemente. He was something else. He had a great arm and he could hit. He was a little more flamboyant than Hank, but not like Mays. Willie constantly threw to the wrong base, though, or overthrew the cutoff man to show off his arm. We always kept running on Willie. Don’t get me wrong, he was a great player, but I would take Aaron or Clemente over Mays any time.” ^[105]

Charley Feeney, Post Gazette sports editor who became TSN's Pirates correspondent in 1969, would speak with Jim O'Brien in 1994, recalling a play that had lost little of its immediacy more than 25 years later:

“[This is the] story about The Throw, which happened in the late 60’s at Forbes Field. Clemente made the most remarkable throw I ever saw … and he got an error on the play!

“The Bucs were playing the Cardinals, it was one of the middle innings and the Cards had runners on first and third. I don’t recall the runner on third, but Orlando Cepeda was on first. I believe Tim McCarver singled to right, and the runner on third scores. Cepeda is about to stop at second, but the ball rolls through Clemente’s legs, and Cepeda takes third (reason for the error being charged to Clemente). The ball rolled to the warning track in right (not close to the foul line), and Clemente picks up the ball with his back to the plate. He whirls and throws a no-bounce strike to Milt May [sic ^[106]] at home plate and Cepeda is out trying to score.''

“After the play, I looked around the press box to find the oldest baseball observer there. Leo Ward, the traveling secretary of the Cards, had been watching baseball since the teens. His quote: ‘If I didn’t see it, I wouldn’t believe it.’” ^[107]

Miraculous as this first-inning assist was, Les Biederman's contemporary report reveals that Clemente was just getting started:

"An inning later, Clemente almost duplicated the feat on Curt Flood. This time, Clemente chased Bob Tolan’s double down the right field line and caught up with it in the right field corner. Flood, who was on first with two outs, was given the green light by coach Joe Schultz but again Clemente fired a strike all the way to May – again with no bounce – and Flood bit the dust.

"An inning later, Clemente almost made it three for three in the throwing department. The Cards had three on with one out when Dal Maxvill lined to Clemente. Again Cepeda was on third. When the ball soared toward Clemente, Schultz whispered to Cepeda: 'Want to challenge him again?' 'Yes,' emphatically answered Cepeda. Clemente had to go back a step or two to flag down Maxvill’s fly and then threw side-arm instead of over-handed. The ball landed a few feet toward third base as Cepeda beat the throw and the ball bounced into the seats for an extra run. [Now] the Cards understood why Clemente threw all the way in the air on the other two hits to nail runners at the plate. The infield [in Forbes Field] is concrete hard and a ball can bounce either 50 feet high or skip away, never to be seen again." ^[108]

Howie Haak, longtime Pirate scout who gained acclaim as the scout who threw open all of Latin America to major-league baseball, puts into perspective the weapon attached to Clemente's shoulder, showing just where it fell within the Pirates' rating system in which 30 was an average arm, 35 average-plus, 40 above average, 50 outstanding, and 60 the absolute best:

"Raul Mondesi is a 40. Clemente and Shawon Dunston were the only 60s we ever had. Dave Parker was a 40." ^[109]

Of course, lest we forget, not only did Clemente play 'under the radar' in the U.S, context, plying his wares for the benefit of those lucky few baseball-minded Pittsburghers, he also played a great deal of baseball outside of the continental U.S.A. altogether. Cuban-born baseball announcer Rafael "Felo" Ramirez recalls one shining moment out of the many that are lost to us:

"Perhaps the greatest play I’ve ever seen Roberto make was in Nicaragua, in 1964 or 1965, after San Juan won the title in the Caribbean Series. They had Clemente, Cepeda, Pizarro, Conde, Pagan – it was like an all-star team! The San Juan team arranged a friendly game against the teams from Niacaragua and Panama. Know who won? Nicaragua! They had a bunch of old Cubans, almost retired, but they won! What a party they threw in Nicaragua. But during that series, Roberto made such a fantastic play that they nearly raised a monument in his honor out in right field. Ossie Echevarria, a Panamanian, one of the fastest men in baseball, was the runner on first base. A ball was hit to right-center, nearly by the wall. Normally, any runner would make it from first to third on such a hit, especially a guy like Echevarria. Clemente cut the ball off and threw it right into Wito Conde’s glove at third – that ball looked like a jet! The runner was tagged out, and every fan in the ballpark just stood there – mouth open in amazement. They’d seen plenty of top players over the years, but never had they seen a throw like that! Three innings later, the same situation: Echevarria on first, another hit. Roberto cut it off and fired to third. Echevarria was between second and third base. When he slammed on the brakes, it looks so funny, like a character in a Walt Disney cartoon! He threw himself headlong back to second base. Incredible! It was impossible to run against Roberto’s arm." ^[110]

Pedrín Zorrilla, owner and founder of the Santurce Cangrejeros [Crabbers in English], Clemente's first winter ball team [’52-54], was an important figure in Puerto Rican baseball, a mentor to many players, as well as an unofficial [and sometimes official] major league scout, facilitating the entry of many Puerto Rican stars – such as Clemente, Orlando Cepeda, Ruben Gomez and Juan Pizarro – into the big leagues. It's only fitting that we close out our consideration of Clemente's most undisputable attribute by coming full circle and giving the floor to the late don Pedrín, who handed Roberto off to us so long ago.

"He used to do things [in right field] that I thought no outfielder could possibly do. I am, you see, no baby. I know this game and I know the people who play it and I have seen them all ... all of them.

"But I tell you as I look there where once he wore our Santurce uniform, I tell you that when they hit that line drive ... you know that Roberto would of course have to be playing over toward center for a right-handed batter. And when the right-handed hitter put the ball toward the foul line, then Roberto would have to turn his back and sprint in the wrong direction.

"This is, you see, a most difficult play, but all the good ones make it, so you cannot build a memory upon the fact that he could turn and run and catch the ball. But what followed, ah, my friend, what followed. Ah, what followed was that as soon as you heard the sound of that baseball sticking in the pocket of the glove, you knew that Roberto would make this incredible pivot and sometimes without even looking he would throw the ball and heaven help the man on third base who thought he could then tag up and run home after such a play. Heaven help him, my friend, because his legs couldn’t. Roberto would throw him out by three feet."

"I am no child. I get older. I have seen them all. Yes, DiMaggio could make this play and maybe one or two others. That’s all. Upon a sight like this one can build a memory that almost measures up to the greatness that was Clemente." ^[111]

[edit] The Glove

Just as Clemente’s tremendous power was not readily apparent to those who didn’t see him play every day, some of the less consistently on-display elements of Clemente’s defensive game have gotten relatively short shrift. Nonetheless, with all due respect to Clemente’s cannon or ‘howitzer’ or whatever military metaphor one prefers, it was hardly his arm alone that defined Clemente’s defensive excellence, an excellence which, as teammate Frank Thomas (circa 1955-1958) told Jim O’Brien more than twenty years after his erstwhile teammate's demise, was the result of hard work.

“He worked at being a great outfielder, just like Virdon worked at it to become the great center fielder he became.” ^[112]

Many years later, after the 1960 and ’61 breakout seasons had propelled him – however tenuously – into baseball’s inner circle, his young protégé Willie Stargell could observe firsthand his mentor’s undiminished work ethic.

“One of the things that he taught me was every time we’d go into a stadium – or even at home – to spend a little extra time working on things: have balls hit to you, not just fly balls or ground balls, but hit ‘em off the wall at different angles. Find the sun, hit the ball into the sun and be able to shield [your eyes] in such a way that you don’t lose the ball in the sun…His ability was no accident. He put a lot of time and effort and intelligence into his game. And what people saw was the finished product.” ^[113]

Even Clemente’s much-heralded ‘howitzer’ was not simply a gift from God – least of all its exceptional accuracy which, after all, is what separates RC from many similarly well-endowed colleagues through the years (i.e. Colavito, Reggie, Vlad, even Clemente’s hero/mentor/rival Willie Mays). Stargell continues:

“[His throwing] was something that he worked on. First of all, he would make sure he had good balance in throwing. Everything was across the seams. And he knew how to throw the ball so it could land in a certain spot and take one perfect hop to the infielder or the catcher so that it doesn’t handcuff him. He would take a garbage can and put it at third base where the opening was facing him. He would have somebody hit him the ball in right field, he would run in, bring his body under control, pick up the ball, and throw it one-hop into the can. Tough to do. But that’s what made him shine a little brighter, stand a little taller.” ^[114]

There was one particular quirk confronting right fielders in Pittsburgh (circa 1909-1970) that would both require and reward Clemente’s continuing diligence: namely Forbes Field’s famously problematic right-field corner, here described by his friend Efren Bernier, recalling a mid-1970 visit to the soon-to-be demolished stadium:

“That morning he showed me the tricky right-field wall at Forbes Field, which was like a hexagon. A wrong bounce and a simple hit became a double or triple. For hours he had players hit the ball against the wall, and he even learned that the ball spinned differently if it was a right-handed or left-handed batter. It was a question of the law of physics.” ^[115]

But long before Bernier’s last-second tour, even before Clemente had become a star and superstar respectively during those relatively injury-and-illness-free ’60 and ’61 seasons, he had already demonstrated his unparalleled mastery of this treacherous triple factory. Frank Thomas again:

“He played the wall as well as anyone I’d ever seen. I saw Paul Waner play the wall well, too, when I was a little kid, but Clemente knew every nuance of that wall.” ^[116]

Teammate Dick Groat seconds this notion:

“As a fielder, I never saw anyone play balls off the right field wall the way Bobby did. And I remember going to Forbes Field as a kid, when it was Paul Waner out there. It was spooky, how Bobby knew how to play that wall.” ^[117]

Of course, lest we forget, Clemente was a flat-out flyhawk. In the words of his fellow 1971 World Series savior Steve Blass:

“When Clemente was out there in right field, there was nothing more a pitcher could want. I figured if the ball was hit to right and stayed in the ballpark, I had a chance. Some way, if it was humanly possible (and sometimes when it wasn’t), he would get there. If they had a rally going, I knew he might make an impossible catch and double off a runner and the rally would die. With him, it was like having four outfielders." ^[118]

Of course, Pirates pitchers throughout Clemente's career had appreciated what he brought to the table. 1960 Cy Young Award winner Vernon Law counts his blessings:

“And could he run fly balls down! He chased a lot of my mistakes. He made so many clutch catches for me. He would run at full speed with his back to the infield and make an over-the shoulder catch, then make a great throw back to the infield. He was just very impressive." ^[119]

Bob Friend, unlike many of his late-fifties Pirate teammates, makes the connection between Clemente's style of play – i.e. the seemingly infinite expense of energy coupled with reckless disregard for his own safety – and the need he felt to occasionally to sit himself down:

“I think the way Clemente played – running out every hit and running recklessly into the wall – he realized he needed some time off and he took it. So many times I saw him catch balls that went into the gap and he’d personally keep the other guy from getting that extra base. For a pitcher, that was something that was really appreciated. An average outfielder many times will give up the extra base. Often that’s the difference between winning and losing.

“At Forbes Field, we had one of the toughest right fields to play in baseball. Clemente could play the ball off that cement wall. Clemente would cut off the ball before it could get to the wall; he’d [not only] keep it from being a triple – he’d hold it to a single." ^[120]

Dock Ellis, like Blass and many of the later generation of Clemente teammates, was frankly awed:

“I played with him long enough to see him do things I never saw other guys do. Not to say other guys could not do those things, but I saw Clemente day in and day out and I can't say anything about anybody but him. He was the best I ever played with. He did things I never saw done before in baseball. As a hitter, a runner, an outfielder - throwing the ball, running the ball down, going up on the wall, up on the screen, throwing to all four bases. I saw him throw guys out at all four bases. ^[121]

Blass here recalls a specific debt he owes Roberto:

“I hope somebody has the film of a catch he made a few years ago in Houston. He was playing in right center and Bob Watson hit one down the line. Robby went into the wall – not just running but leaping into it – and made a catch that saved the game." ^[122]

Blass is referring here to Clemente’s legendary 6/15/71 game-saving catch which provoked, not for the first time in Clemente's career, a standing ovation from the opposing team's hometown fans for the favor he'd just done them – i.e. denying their team a dramatic come-from-behind victory. UPI's Darrell Mack dubbed it the "greatest catch in the history of the Astrodome."^[123] The hapless victim himself, Bob Watson, was philosophical about the whole thing:

“At least, I got robbed by one of the best in the business. It’s like if you were a trainman in the old days and Jesse James held you up. You know you’ve been robbed by the best highwayman in the business.” ^[124]

For teammate Bill Mazeroski and manager Danny Murtaugh, who'd been with Clemente far too long to so easily assign victory to any one of his large and ever-expanding pool of worthy 'greatest catch' candidates, the current contender for that title harkened back to a similarly pivotal – and painful – play executed almost 11 years earlier, likewise in the midst of a successful Pirate pennant drive.

The victim of that earlier bit of grand larceny was none other than Roberto's old friend and mentor – and rival – Willie Mays, whose bid for a seventh-inning, leadoff extra-base hit was grabbed over-the-shoulder by RC just before crashing into the fence in right center, thus preserving a scoreless tie in a game Pittsburgh would go on to win, 1-0. This was hardly the first nor, obviously, would it be the last such close encounter between Clemente and an unforgiving outfield barrier. It also could not help but conjure up memories of an even more celebrated crime perpetrated by Mays on the unsuspecting Clemente in the second inning of a 6/3/57 6-5 Pirates win, although a more useful frame of reference for a later generation of baseball students might be Aaron Rowand, circa Thursday, May 11, 2006.

One can look to AP ^[125] and UPI ^[126] for a couple of contemporary accounts of the 1960 play.

Reporting for the visiting Giants, Bob Stevens, beat writer for the San Francisco Chronicle, said simply:

"The catch had to rank with the greatest of all time, as well as [being] one of the most frightening to watch and painful to make." ^[127]

[edit] The Legs

Al Campanis recalls the Dodger tryout during which he 'discovered' Clemente [at least from the vantage point of North American baseball] in the summer of '52):

"Then we had the timed races – 60 yards. Everybody’s running about 7.2, 7.3, which is average major league time. Then Clemente came and ran a 6.4-plus. That’s a track man’s time! And in a baseball uniform! I asked him to run again, and he was even a little faster. He could fly!" ^[128] "Hell, the world’s record then was only 6.1. I couldn’t believe it." ^[129]

Clyde Sukeforth recalls the June 1954 Montreal-Richmond series during which he 'discovered' Clemente for the Pirates [on a scouting trip whose assigned purpose had been to scout the newly demoted pitcher Joe Black]:

“Around the seventh inning Montreal was behind, and who should go up to pinch hit but this kid? He hits a routine ground ball to shortstop and turns it into a bang-bang play at first base. God, he could run. He could fly. Well, I said to myself, there’s a boy who can do two things as well as any man who ever lived. Nobody could throw any better than that, and nobody could run any better than that.” ^[130]

In fact, Sukeforth's 20-year-old recollection is unsurprisingly imprecise regarding the game details:

• Clemente did not pinch-hit but rather batted after having entered the game as a defensive replacement.
• It occurred not in the seventh, but the ninth inning.
• Montreal was not behind but up by three.

On the other hand, it was a late-inning at-bat - his first of the game - which did drive in an insurance run which proved to be the game-winner after the Royal bullpen had coughed up the other 3/4 of their newly assembled margin. ^[131] In the final analysis, though, Sukey was not being paid to provide play-by-play or to compile comprehensive stats, least of all for Clemente, a teenage prospect who, as Montreal manager Max Macon would tell Bill Christine almost 19 years later, "just radiated ability." ^[132] That 'radiation' is palpable in Sukeforth's comments. Clyde's colleague Howie Haak, who, like Sukeforth, had followed GM Branch Rickey from Brooklyn to Pittsburgh, would have little to show for his subsequent efforts to follow Sukeforth's original Clemente sighting with one of his own; fortunately, Clemente would have a dramatically higher profile with 1954's Caribbean Champions, the Santurce Cangrejeros. And of course Haak would have countless opportunities to observe Clemente over the following 18 years:

“[Branch] Rickey was a fanatic about speed, and I guess I am too. And you can see for yourself: the [teams that] are built on speed win. I like to get a stopwatch time on a kid in a sixty-yard dash, because in baseball you run sixty yards more than you do anything: first to third, second to home, center field to right-center. But I never time a hitter from home to first. What good does it do you? Clemente – I don’t think he ever ran to first base under 4.4 or 4.5. That follow-through of his brought him up and toward third base, so it took him three tenths of a second just to get out of the batter’s box [see below], but he was still the fastest man on our club.” ^[133]

Clemente himself had made this point on at least one occasion:

“Look, here is the way I swing. I swing hard. I don’t punch the ball. I have bat control, and I don’t go for home runs, but I still swing as hard as some fellows who swing for the fences. My back is practically to first base when I finish the swing. I have to turn around before I can start running. Sometimes the ball is in the fielder’s hands before I drop the bat.” ^[134]

Vernon Law, a career Pirate, was with Clemente for 13 seasons. Both were enormous factors in Pittsburgh's successful 1960 pennant drive, Clemente somewhat less so in the World Series victory, but the two were headed in opposite directions, careerwise, thereafter. RC's dominant decade stretched out in front of him [though even here injuries and illness would make it something of a bumpy road]. On the other hand, with the exception of a remarkable mid-decade resurrection, Law's best years were behind him. By 1967, when Clemente's career was reaching its zenith, Law's was petering out. While cultural and linguistic differences prevented the two from becoming truly close off the field, there was a great mutual respect, both personal and professional, born of their shared priorities, i.e. family, faith and a strong work ethic:

“He was the best in so many aspects of the game. He could go from first to third as fast as any player I saw or played against, and that included some of the best – Lou Brock, Maury Wills and Willie Davis.” ^[135]

[edit] The Bat

Jim Greengrass, a winter ball teammate and buddy of Clemente [1959-1960] whose MLB career had ended prematurely thanks to a leg injury [inflicted, ironically if completely inadvertently, by Curt Roberts, who'd been one of Clemente's few close friends on the Pirates during his rookie season], here offers his impressions:

“What a ballplayer! He had great speed, and could hit the ball like a rocket anywhere. He stood way back in the batters’ box. Rogers Hornsby liked that about Clemente because he used to do the same thing. ^[136] Clemente would stand in the back corner on the outside, away from the plate so he stepped into everything. You couldn’t throw him a ball away from the plate and get him out because he could reach them all. He could bust that inside ball, too. He didn’t take a big stride, but he was always moving into the ball so that when he hit it, he hit it with everything in his body." ^[137]

Joe Christopher, Clemente's Pirate teammate during the same period, also cites Hornsby:

“I can see now why Clemente was such a great hitter. He hit the same way that Rogers Hornsby said things should be done: ‘Make the outside part of the plate the closest part because all great pitchers pitch you away, they don’t pitch you in.’ And Clemente hit most of the balls from shortstop to first base.

"The left knee would be his strength. The left knee he would always bring back, and when he’d bring his left knee back, he would cock the back at the same time. He would never swing the bat at the baseball; he would always throw the bat at the baseball. Sometimes he would say to me in Spanish: ‘Joe, look at me, what I’m doing. Always try to drive the ball, don’t swing. When you swing the bat, actually your hands tighten up. If you would just cock the bat and throw the head of the bat ahead of you, it would stop your body from lunging forward.’ Clemente was a great hitter in that way.” ^[138]

Phil Musick, who covered Clemente for the Pittsburgh Press starting in the late sixties, paints a vivid portrait of Roberto at bat:

"More than two decades [after his death], it is not difficult to conjure Clemente at work in the batter’s box. The ritual never varied. Approaching the plate, he rolled his neck so thoroughly that often it seemed his head was in danger of toppling from his shoulders. As a teenager returning from a brother’s funeral, he had been in an automobile accident that very nearly killed him. The vertebrae in his upper spine defied alignment the rest of his life.

"Settled in the box, he would massage a handful of dirt into his broad hands, scatter it, and almost daintily wipe his hands on his pants, the bat propped carefully against an inner thigh. That bit of ritual concluded, he would look at the pitcher for the first time, and take the most casual of practice swings. ^[139] The bat swung twice, easily but with purpose, the trajectory angled down the way a lumberjack might swing his axe to mark a cut. One bob of the head toward the mound to indicate readiness. And the theater of preparation ends. ^[140]

"Ready, there was no wasted motion. No motion, really. Moving with the pitch, few hitters in the modern era were more unorthodox. Waiting, he looked like a hitting instructor on a video – head still and perfectly squared to the pitcher, bat still and perpendicular, left elbow held high. Hands back, wrists cocked, feet spaced nicely the width of his shoulders, hips relaxed and ready to rotate. Deep and way back in the box.

"With the pitch, it all went to hell. As Drysdale noted, Clemente, so far from the plate, looked easy. He appeared to lunge. The backswing seemed far too short and rigid to generate any real power. There looked to be a slight hitch as the bat came forward. And as it did, his legs swayed and his knees almost touched. Caught precisely at this moment in freeze-frame, he looked laughably awkward. Fully unleashed, he was a pitcher’s nightmare. ^[141] The wanton cut of the bat that traces an impossibly wide swath toward the pitch. If it misses, a balletic toe-dance, the protective helmet often spinning wildly in the dirt, Clemente appearing to screw himself into the ground to the ankle. Ah, but when it doesn’t, the ball fairly lashed, so that some witnesses instinctively fear for a fielder. * Screaming, low-altitude drives that appear like white light and instantly flicker in the power alleys or simply disappear before you’re ready for them to be gone." ^[142]

* Their fears were shared by many of the witnessed fielders, such as Glenn Beckert, Tommy Helms, Pete Rose, Donn Clendenon, Jim Wynn [who played shortstop in his rookie season] as well as pitchers Don Drysdale and Bob Gibson.

Three little footnotes in mid-to-late 20th century baseball history had reason to join the ranks of those put-upon pitchers and infielders, as they found their respective cups of coffee disconcertingly steeped in Clemente. Here's Arnold Umbach:

“Back then, there were few hitters who could hit the ball with any authority to the opposite field. The ones that went to the opposite field were Punch-and-Judy hitters, but Clemente could drive the ball. I didn’t know how to pitch to somebody like that so I stayed off the plate and that’s where he hit. I had no clue how to pitch to Clemente. I just tried to keep it down.” ^[143]

But of course we already know how Clemente tattooed the ball to the opposite field. Umbach's fellow footnotes Larry Yellen and John Paul Braun remind us why the book on Clemente was 'down and away'. First, Yellen:

“ My major league debut was against the Pirates in Houston. I pitched five innings and I remember Roberto Clemente. I don’t remember Willie Stargell. The one to remember, though, was Roberto Clemente. Bob Lillis [sic *] was playing shortstop and Clemente hit a rocket, a one-hopper, that almost took Lillis from shortstop and put him in the left-field stands. Lillis wound up throwing him out, but he hit a rocket off me.” ^[144]

* This near-fatal encounter between batted ball and gloved defender took place in the third inning; the endangered shortstop in question was actually Glenn Vaughan. Lillis, the every-day shortstop, happened to have this day off, although he would enter the game as a defensive replacement in the ninth.

Now Braun recalls his one and only major league appearance, a two-inning stint on October 2, 1964:

“He took a strike the first pitch, and on the second pitch, I threw him a high-in fastball. Now, he was a good hitter, but he was a notorious bad-ball hitter. He hit a rope past Mathews at third base that went foul. I think it was Mathews, but it might have been Klimchock *. Anyway, whoever it was yelled over to me, ‘Hey, I’m a married man!’ I was told later that you should never throw anything up and in to Clemente, but I didn’t know it then." ^[145]

* Kudos to Braun for including Klimchock in the equation; the endangered teammate in question was indeed this backup corner infielder/outfielder.

Making our way from the outer margins to the inner circle, one frequent and notable victim of Clemente’s offensive outbursts was none other than his successor in Brooklyn’s bonus baby basket [though one who – unlike Momen – would not be orphaned], Sandy Koufax:

“Mays always told me how hard it was to get a hit off me and every time I looked up, he was on second base. Yet, even with Mays, I had an idea what to do. When I pitched to Clemente and Aaron, I had no idea. They seemed to hit everything.” ^[146]

“There’s only one way to classify Bob Clemente and that’s as the strangest hitter in all baseball. Figure him out one way and he’ll kill you another. You can be having your best day against everybody else and he’ll treat you as though you had nothing. It’s so hard to say what he’s going to hit or what should be thrown to him. He’s very strong and is extremely quick with his hands. You look at him swinging sometimes on his front foot, sometimes on his rear, sometimes with both feet off the ground, and you’re inclined to think, ‘This guy can’t hit the ball.’ That’s the biggest mistake you can make and I’ve made a few of them against him.” ^[147]

“What makes Bob the kind of hitter I don’t want to see at bat with runners on is that he’s liable to hit anything. He could hit a pitchout for a home run. A lot of pitchers will try to jam him, but if you try that you’ve got to get it way inside. You can’t throw him two of the same pitches in a row. He may look terrible on the first and hit the darnedest shot you’ll ever see on the next. You wonder if he’s looking for you to repeat the pitch in the same place, but I hardly think so. He’s so unorthodox you just can’t figure out a way to pitch to him.” ^[148]

Koufax’s reluctance notwithstanding, many of his colleagues have no hesitation whatsoever in viewing Clemente’s seeming befuddlement as a calculated ploy, notably fellow HOF southpaw Whitey Ford, whose 1960 World Series encounters with Clemente were recounted to Jerry Izenberg in 1976:

“Whitey Ford, who pitched against him twice in the Series, recalls that Roberto actually made himself look bad on an outside pitch to encourage Whitey to come back with it. ‘I did,’ Ford recalls, ‘and he unloaded.’” ^[149]

Others who discerned a method to Clemente’s ‘madness’ included teammate Fernando Gonzalez ^[150] as well as opponents Tony Taylor ^[151] and Tim McCarver, the latter inadvertently posing an interesting possibility:

“Steve Stone says Willie Mays was the best he ever saw at intentionally looking bad on a pitcher’s curve to make sure the pitcher threw him another one in a key situation. Roberto Clemente was like that, too. He’d take a first-pitch breaking ball and look as if he were shocked by the pitch. That was so he’d get a similar pitch from the pitcher during that at-bat.” ^[152]

Mays has long been posited as the possible source [when Clemente’s 1954-55 winter ball teammate] for his young protégé’s basket catch. Singling out these two as prime practitioners of the art of setting up a pitcher cannot help but suggest a similar scenario.

Carl Erskine, whose career with the Brooklyn Dodgers was winding down just as that of his teammate Sandy Koufax was waiting to get started in earnest, also drew parallels between Mays and Momen:

“To get [Mays] out with fastballs, you had to keep it tight. Otherwise, Willie’d get his hands out. Roberto Clemente was a little bit like that. You heard about stepping in the bucket – when you pull the left foot out on the swing and then your body comes away. But both of those hitters, Mays and Clemente – both Hall-of-Famers – they had the knack of stepping away and throwing the top of their body at the ball, and they had some leverage there. So they hit with power to right or right center.” ^[153]

Clemente's friend, sometime teammate and frequent opponent Ruben Gomez also noticed Roberto's paradoxical partial bailout:

“Roberto was a fine natural athlete, but he lacked training. The years went by and he became a magician with the bat, despite the fact that he had a ‘wrong’ way of hitting; he would step far away from the plate – in the bucket as they say – but he kept his arms and torso close to the plate, which is what made him so great.” ^[154]

While, as Roberto told Les Biederman in 1968 ^[155], his early tendency to bail out had been corrected in 1952/53 by manager Buster Clarkson ["He put a bat behind my left foot and made sure I didn’t drag my foot”], the subsequent seeming resurrection of this habit occurred in response to the damage to Clemente's spine sustained in the 12/54 auto accident and aggravated in late 1956 by a violent swing and miss during winter ball. According to Clemente, 'stepping in the bucket' minimized the pain to his back during his follow-through.

"In 1956 I was doing good until I hurt my back. Since then I step to the side with my left foot faster so I don't have to twist my body so much." ^[156]

Incidentally, here's one ongoing and unhesitating testimonial from a Clemente contemporary who knows a little bit about handling a bat himself – namely, Pete Rose. In the spring of 1970, Pete recalls Robby's monumental May 15, 1967 slugfest opposite Rose and the Reds:

"I’d say he’s the best hitter I’ve seen since I’ve been in the big leagues. I remember a game with the Pirates two years ago – we beat 'em 8-7. He knocked in all seven runs for 'em with three homers and a double. He hit one of his homers to left field, another to center and the third one to right Unbelievable! It was the finest exhibition of hitting I've ever seen in one game." ^[157]

A little more than two and a half years later, Rose would reiterate this rave, this time at his own expense:

"If someone asked Hunter if I was a super hitter, he'd say no, because I'm not. The only super hitters I've seen are Billy Williams and Roberto Clemente." ^[158]

A little over three and a half years later still, Rose gets more specific as to the candidate pool against which Clemente is competing:

"In [sic] all due respect to Henry Aaron, Stan Musial and Willie Mays, the best hitter I ever played against was Roberto Clemente." ^[159]

[edit] The Club

And now we get to that corner of the toolbox ['hit with power'] that denies so many otherwise eminently qualified candidates – including Clemente in the minds of many – entry into that exclusive 5-tool fraternity. Sadly, David Maraniss, author of the acclaimed 2006 biography [and someone who, by his own admission, actually saw Clemente in the flesh exactly twice ^[160], succumbs to the conventional wisdom on this issue. Read the work of people who actually witnessed large samples of Clemente in action – i.e. freelance writer Arnold Hano or, better yet, Pittsburgh Press beat writer Les Biederman, who covered Clemente's first 14 seasons in Pittsburgh – and you'll get a much different impression. Likewise, players who played alongside Clemente for an extended period had the best perspective on the threat he presented in any given at-bat. Nonetheless, even Joe Black, a teammate from his pre-Pittsburgh career [1954 in Montreal], could see how strong Clemente was:

"The thing that amazed me is that sometimes one of his legs would be up in the air and he’d be hitting, and it’d still go out of the ballpark. He was just strong." ^[161]

Dick Groat (1955-1962, Pittsburgh):

"He could have adapted his hitting style if he wanted to be more of a home run hitter, but [Pirates batting instructor] George Sisler wanted him to spray the ball around and be a high percentage hitter." ^[162]

Bob Skinner (1956-1963, Pittsburgh):

"Clemente always chose average over power. He could have hit a ton of home runs. Playing around in batting practice, he’d hit one ball after another over the fence." ^[163]

Dick Stuart (1958-1962, Pittsburgh), someone who certainly knew a little bit about hitting for distance [if little else on a baseball field], speaks here in the year following Clemente’s death, recalling the teammate he had described 12 years earlier as “the best 169-pound slugger in baseball” ^[164]:

“Don’t let anybody kid you he couldn’t hit for distance. When he wanted to, he could power one as far as anybody in baseball. He was usually smart enough to go for line drives at Forbes Field.” ^[165]

As Clemente's career progressed, particularly after the manager-mandated mid-sixties power boost, players around the league began to take notice, pitchers in particular subject to a singularly rude awakening.

Larry Dierker, a pitcher who actually had pretty good success against Clemente himself, nonetheless received some vicarious chills in July 1969:

“There were four home runs in the 1969 All-Star game – two by Willie McCovey, the [game’s] MVP, and one each by Frank Howard and Johnny Bench. With all of the long balls, the one I remember most was hit by Roberto Clemente. The Great One hit it all the way into the upper deck, but it was foul. I had seen balls hit farther, but I had never seen a ball hit that far to the opposite field!” ^[166]

On the other hand, there was nothing vicarious about the victimizing of the following commentator, some obscure southpaw named Sandy Koufax [likewise undone by unspeakable opposite-field power]:

“The longest ball I ever saw hit to the opposite field was hit off me by Clemente at the Los Angeles Coliseum in 1961 [sic*]. It was a fastball on the outside corner, and he drove it out of the park – not just over the fence, he knocked it way out. I didn’t think a right-handed batter could hit it out of the field just at that point but Clemente did." ^[167]

* Sandy's mistaken here; of the two home runs given up by Koufax to Clemente at the Coliseum, only the first – hit on 8/30/60 – went out to right field. The '61 shot was also hit well, but in the other direction – 35 rows beyond Wally Moon's favored target, the infamous left-field screen. ^[168]

Clemente also hit what may have been the longest ball in any direction off Koufax on May 31, 1964. LA Times beat writer Frank Finch reports:

"Koufax also was bombed for one of the longest home runs in Forbes Field annals, which hark back to 1909. In the third inning, with a 1-and-2 count on him, Senor Clemente touched off a moon shot that struck high on a light tower in center field, some 450 ft. from the plate. Had it missed the tower, it certainly would have sailed at least 500 ft." ^[169]

Koufax's own impression was recorded in his 1966 autobiography:

"Roberto Clemente hit an outside fastball that was still rising when it hit against the light tower in left center field, 450 feet away from home plate. And on a 1-2 pitch at that." ^[170]

Now many – notably John Pastier – have pooh-poohed this sort of thing, the 'still rising' flourish in particular. Pastier personally dubbed said flourish the 'maraschino cherry' that enhances many an already prodigious poke. Still, is it usually the victimized pitcher who carries out this PR campaign? Certainly the following traumatic spring training encounter dredged up by Darrell Sutherland would indicate that Clemente's seemingly Svengali-like sway over opposing pitchers was not confined to his frequent victim Koufax:

“One time in spring training, I was pitching against Clemente and Wes Westrum came out and said, ‘He can’t hit the fastball inside off the plate.’ I threw a fastball about a foot inside and he hit it on a dead line. It was still going up as it went over the center field fence.” ^[171]

This mammoth Met-killer was "estimated at 500 feet" ^[172]. On top of his 450-foot game-winner 10 days earlier vs. St. Louis ^[173], this made for a resounding opening volley in RC's unprecedented 1966 aerial assault which, while ultimately leaving the Bucs three games shy of a National League pennant, did net Clemente that elusive NL MVP award.

On May 1st of that year, 21-year-old Ron Swoboda, who would go on the become one of the heroes of the 1969 World Series upset of the favored Baltimore Orioles by the upstart 'Miracle' Mets,' saw something he would not soon forget:

"I saw him hit line drives off the brick wall at Forbes Field. One of them was the hardest ball I ever saw hit. I saw Willie Stargell and Willie McCovey and Dick Allen hit some long balls against us, up and out, but Clemente's was different. I just never saw a ball hit so hard." ^[174]

This almost certainly refers to the shot – high off the wall above the 436-foot mark [as witnessed in profile by then left fielder Swoboda] – described by Dick Young on May 2, 1966 in the pages of the Daily News:

"The second Buc run, just before the burst of five, was set up by Roberto Clemente’s blast high off the [right] center wall, above the 436-foot marker. The ball got there so fast, and bounced back to Murphy so hard, that the speedy Roberto got only two bases." ^[175]

This was not the first time Clemente had come close to clearing this rarely violated right-center barrier [rarely violated by right-handers, that is]; almost 5 years earlier, Roberto shot one over Duke Snider's head en route to approximately the same spot ^[176]. The next ball he hit this way would not only clear the heretofore formidable fortress wall but leave it far, far behind. Scarcely one month after creating Swoboda's indelible impression, 'Cape Clemente' launches the following moon shot:

“Stargell hit his first homer of the game in the second inning and Clemente followed it with a blast over the 436-foot sign.” ^[177]

Veteran Pirate – and Clemente – observer Les Biederman elaborates:

“Clemente hit one ball between the Barney Dreyfuss monument and the right-center light tower – a rarity for a right-handed slugger." ^[178]

Four days later it would become a little less rare:

"This happened against the Astros [June 5] with Dick Farrell pitching and five days later [sic - actually four], he did it again." ^[179]

Apparently Clemente had finally thrown in the towel vis-a-vis hitting the ball through the wall and opted, instead, for a path of lesser – if not least – resistance. Here Biederman fleshes out the June 5th blast:

"[It] traveled out of the park between the 436-foot sign on the right-center fence and the Barney Dreyfuss memorial to the left. It actually is center field, although the flagpole (457 feet) is regarded as dead center. The ball landed approximately 60 feet beyond the wall on a diamond where some youngsters were playing." ^[180]

Biederman is not as definitive re the second ball's destination, though the direction seems to have shifted towards straightaway center.

"This time the ball disappeared over the monument with Al Jackson of the Cardinals on the mound, and the fans gasped. Two titanic shots in less than one week." ^[181]

Returning to the realm of victimized HOFers, spitball specialist Gaylord Perry might take issue with those who maintained that Clemente couldn't pull the ball:

“They said don’t pitch him inside. I didn’t pitch him inside for three or four years. When I did pitch him inside, he hit a home run ... the wind blowing 30 miles per hour against him. He hit it 25 rows deep.” ^[182]

This is not Clemente's first conquest of the infamous Candlestick crosswind: it is at least the third of at least four such blasts. The first two came in 1960, the first year of that bizarre windtunnel's existence. The very first came on Clemente's very first visit, ironically occurring on the birthday of his one-time mentor Willie Mays. In 1955, freelance writer – and big-time New York Giants fan – Arnold Hano, had preceded Mays and the Giants out to California, and was thus well-situated to witness the infamous 1960 birthday blast:

There was that game in San Francisco, in early 1960 [May 6]. Sam Jones on the mound, and the Giants in their patented early-season rush, the rest of the league panting in their wake. Jones, and a few of his pitching buddies, had been throwing Clemente high and tight – which is a euphemism for beanballs. Finally Jones came in with a blinding fastball, the way Sad Sam used to throw ’em, and Clemente unloaded.

“The wind was blowing in from left field that day, and blowing hard. This was 1960, remember, before the fences had been moved in, and nobody was hitting home runs at Candlestick. Not Mays, not Cepeda, not anybody."

Not to left, anyway. The wind at Candlestick used to blow in and across from left, often helping balls hit to right, while mercilessly knocking down fly balls to left. On the day in question, which happened to be Willie Mays’ birthday, not only did the birthday boy himself hit one out, but so did the Giants’ other Willies, McCovey and Kirkland, all to right or right-center. ^[183] Hano continues:

"Clemente’s bat hit the ball, and the result absolutely clubbed the crowd into awed silence for a long moment. Right into that wet whipping wind the ball carried. Right on through, hit 120 feet high in a long soaring majestic parabola that came down finally over 450 feet away. There is just no way of telling how far Clemente’s home run blast would have traveled had it not been for that wind. Suffice it to say partisan Giant fans suddenly broke their shell-shocked silence and let loose a gigantic roar. For two innings the stadium buzzed. For days the Giants talked about it. Even today if you slip up behind a Giant pitcher and suddenly whisper in his ear: ‘Remember the home run Clemente hit?’ he’s likely to jump as high as if he’d been caught putting spit on baseballs." ^[184]

While undoubtably the most scary one, this was not the first example of RC crashing his old friend's birthday party. That came five years earlier in the Polo Grounds, when the rookie rudely celebrated his new friend's birthday by tripling over Willie's head in the midst of a decisive Pirate rally. A couple of Giants beat writers fill us in:

“Two tallies followed on Roberto Clemente’s 430-foot triple to center and a two-out single by Felipe Montemayor." ^[185]

“Roberto Clemente tripled so far over Mays’ head that even Willie on his charger, shedding the cap, couldn’t catch it." ^[186]

In the birthday party-crashing portion of their ongoing rivalry, Willie was at a bit of a disadvantage, as they played opposite each other on Roberto's birthday only once. Mays, however, made the most of the opportunity:

"'Leave it to Mays' could serve as a slogan for the New York outfield; the infield, too, sometimes. Willie went in, then out for the first two putouts in the second inning. It was difficult to pinpoint the more spectacular grab. Mays caught Walls’ sinking liner just off the shoetops. Then, following a long gallop, he took Clemente’s drive in front of the left-centerfield bleachers over the right shoulder." ^[187]

Ernie Banks, one of baseball's most prolific sluggers between the years of 1955 and 1962, didn't find it hard to understand that Clemente's approach at the plate would be shaped by his surroundings.

“Clemente geared his style of hitting for Forbes Field, whose left field walls are too far away for consistent production for right-handed hitters. Roberto concentrated on hitting line drives into the spacious right [and left] center field section. Had he been a Cub, I’m sure he would have adopted a power-style of swinging. Some of you fans may remember the ball he knocked out of Wrigley a few seasons ago, just to the left field side of the scoreboard. That’s the longest one I’ve seen hit there and we all agreed it must have traveled more than 500 feet on its trip into Waveland Avenue." ^[188]

Rogers Hornsby, arguably the greatest right-handed hitter ever [and most decidedly not of the Punch-and-Judy variety], also happened to be present that day in Wrigley Field – in his capacity as Chicago Cubs' batting coach – and called Clemente's moonshot the longest he'd seen anywhere. His concise evaluation was captured by TSN:

"Rogers Hornsby, the Cubs' batting coach, said it was the longest he ever witnessed and [Cubs' skipper] Bob Scheffing agreed it was No. 1 in his book." ^[189]

From a later generation of sluggers, Bob Robertson, the one member of the early 70's Pirates – Willie Stargell included – whom scout/coach Howie Haak conceded might have a "little more power' than Clemente confirms what Bob Skinner had observed almost 15 years earlier:

"Clemente, the way he used to do some things at the batting cage... He used to tell us, 'Well, I'm gonna hit one to right-center now, I'm going to hit one to center field, I'm gonna drive one into left-center. Well, I'm gonna hit this one out.' And it was amazing how we would stand around the cage, and he would say things like this and back 'em up. That was such fun..." ^[190]

Phil Musick recalls one such presumably playful BP encounter between the two Robbies from July 1970 :

"Midsummer, 1970. Wrigley [Field]. Batting practice before a Cubs’ game. Noon or so. A day so hot that in the distance beyond the Chicago tenements, the heat seems to gather in columns, like germs in a test tube. One by one, young Bob Robertson drives batting practice fastballs over the left field fence. Four… five… six… Even the older players stop what they’re doing to watch. Seven...eight.

"How you do it, old man,” the brash Robertson snickers at a quiet Pirate next to the cage. Soft laughter rises from a nearby gaggle of players, writers and front-office types. Roberto Clemente replies with a stony look. Robertson hits a ninth consecutive BP home run, then skies the next pitch into a low-hanging cloud over the infield and gives way to the next hitter, his grin a challenge of sorts. Clemente replaces Robertson in the cage.

"Old Frank Oceak, the third-base coach, short-arms a 60 m.p.h. pitch tight on the hands. Clemente turns on it like a snake, catching it fatly and just so on the barrel of the thick-handled bat. It leaves Wrigley on a rising trajectory, as though it had come from the end of a .12 gauge. The ball clears the fence, the high brick wall behind it, and the width of Waveland Avenue, before striking sharply next to a tenement building window. Clemente flips the bat toward the mound, heel over barrel, purposely ignoring Robertson, and strides briskly off to the dugout. Excited babble trails in his wake. The young Robertson just shakes his head. In the tunnel leading from the dugout to the clubhouse, Clemente permits himself a small smile." ^[191]

Even in mid-September 1972, the day after the final regular season home run of his career, Clemente was still up to his old tricks and conjuring up memories of a couple of his longest shots in the process. Writer Bart Ripp remembers:

“[On Wednesday, September 13, 1972 at Wrigley Field], Clemente went three-for-three against Ferguson Jenkins, including a home run that won the game.

"The next day, the Pirates took batting practice and I saw something I shall always remember. Pittsburgh had a rookie just up from triple-A named McKee throwing batting practice. Let’s say shooting instead of throwing. This guy was about 6' 8" and he could bring it. Stargell had trouble connecting on him. Al Oliver couldn’t get a ball out of the infield. Richie Hebner was so disgusted he slammed his bat against the supports of the batting cage.

“Clemente stepped in, practicing left-handed swings. Some of the Cubs tossing a ball around stopped and came over to watch. The sportswriters stopped chatting among themselves and interviewing players and started to gather around the cage. Even Clemente’s teammates, who see him swing every day, wanted to see if Roberto could connect on the big rookie.

“Clemente dusted his hands, then took his usual righthanded stance deep in the box, as far from the plate as possible. Standing still, Clemente heard the first pitch go by, then primly stuck his bat out over the plate at the next three. Each time, the ball hit the club, then pirouetted to the grass, just fair, and there they stuck as if they had landed in wet cement. Roberto then took three swings, but did not move his legs or hips, just the arms and wrists – he was merely getting his eye in. The result was three line drives – to left, to center, to right. All base hits in any game.

“Clemente slowly hauled out his familiar swing: the front leg lifted and cocked to the catcher, his torso leaping at the ball, the swing ending with his back foot hanging in the air. He proceeded to undress the rookie, smacking severe line drives all over old Wrigley Field. Not paying any respect to a god, Hebner shouted taunting encouragement to Clemente, ‘Come on, take one more swing.’

“Clemente motioned to the pitcher, wiping the side of his hand across the letters of his uniform. McKee put it right there, right on the outside corner, and Clemente swung once more. The ball nearly tipped the button of McKee’s cap, then once past second began to rise on a straight line. It was still rising when it struck the bleachers just below the scoreboard, 500 feet away. The people around the cage surveyed the landing site for a few seconds, then closed their mouths and looked back into the cage. It was empty, as Clemente walked back to the dugout, rolling his head about to relieve a crick in his neck.” ^[192]

[edit] The Total Package ['The Great-est One'?]

Here's a passage from Peter Bjarkman’s 2007 article regarding the campaign to retire Clemente’s number:

”Billy Jurges, who played against Ruth and managed Ted Williams, once told this writer that Clemente was easily the best all-around ballplayer he ever laid eyes upon, and the opinion has had numerous seconds down through the decades.” ^[193]

For those disinclined to take it at face value, please permit me to back up Bjarkman's parting shot with at least a partial roll call of those seconding Jurges' motion:

• Sparky Anderson:

"In my 22 years as a manager, I never saw a better player than Roberto Clemente. No player at any position could do anything better than he did it.” ^[194] “Everyone talks about Mays being the greatest. I never got to see Mays in his prime so I can’t make a judgment." ^[195] “Bobby could do more things than any player I’ve ever seen." ^[196] "He could hit for power when he had to. When he wanted to slap it to right, he shot the ball like a bullet. Plus, he could fly. When he hit a ground ball to the infield, he was flying to first. That fielder better not be napping." ^[197] "People didn’t realize how fast he was. He only stole bases if it meant something..." ^[198] "Walking away… Roberto Clemente is my premier outfielder – period." ^[199] "Clemente wrote the book about playing right field. He made every play; he also knew how to trick you. Preston Gomez warned me about that when I coached third base for him at San Diego in 1969. He told me to watch Clemente on a base hit to right with the runner rounding second." ^[200] "‘Clemente’ll play a game with you. If we have a man on first and there’s a base hit to right field, he’ll pretend to be loafing in on it. The moment you start to wave for that runner to come to third – look out, there’s gonna be an explosion.’ Well, sure enough, I don’t know what inning it was, but the situation came up, he put me in his trap and I did it. And let me tell you, my runner was about two-thirds of the way to third when the ball arrived." ^[201] "His arm was a laser." ^[202] "I came into the dugout and Preston was laughing. He said, ‘What did I tell you?’ But that was Roberto. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t do." ^[203]

• Al Barlick:

The following is excerpted from TSN's story on Barlick's acceptance of the first annual "Umpire of the Year" award.

"Somebody wondered if Barlick were general manager of a major league club and could take any player he wanted, who would it be. He replied quickly: 'Roberto Clemente. He can do everything." ^[204]

• Les Biederman:

See below.

• Joe Christopher:

"Clemente was the kind of man that I’d like to have on my team. We were playing one time in St. Thomas, an exhibition game. This was for nothing and here’s a guy making over 100,000 bucks a year. Somebody hit a short fly ball into right field. Here’s Clemente – he took off for the ball, there was a whole pile of rocks there, and the guy makes a helluva diving catch. How many guys are gonna do that, making the kind of money he was making? When he put a baseball uniform on, there was only [one] thing that Clemente thought: ‘Give my best and give my all.’ When he played with the Pirates, that’s all he did." ^[205] "There was so much to Clemente, but words don’t do him justice. You have to use words, and it’s hard to categorize what you’re dealing with. You’re dealing with euphemisms and they don’t work with Clemente to capture his greatness. But he was so great. Can you imagine how much money Clemente would get today? How much would you pay a guy like Roberto Clemente today? He was the greatest rightfielder I ever saw [and] the best player pound for pound. He could throw, he could hit, he could hit with power, he could run – he was simply the greatest. I’m glad I knew him.” ^[206]

• Dick Groat:

"I don’t know of anybody who played on the same team with more superstars than I did. I was with ’em all, all except Hank Aaron and Sandy Koufax, whom I don’t count because he was a pitcher. I played with Musial with the Cardinals, Clemente with the Pirates, Richie Allen with the Phillies and Willie Mays with the Giants. The best of ’em? For natural tools, I’d have to say Clemente. All around he was the best ballplayer I ever saw." ^[207]

• Howie Haak:

“Clemente was the greatest player I’ve ever seen. I only saw Mays play 20 games and [that was after] he had begun to go downhill. Clemente was better than Musial. He could throw better and run better. Couldn’t run better than Mantle. Threw better than Mantle. Mantle played in a park that was built for him, Clemente didn’t. All around, Clemente was better than Aaron. Not a better hitter and not more power, but he was a better fielder, better runner and a better thrower.” ^[208]

• Allen MacPhail (Lesser-known member of the McPhail family – son of Lee, grandson of Larry – who served as Assistant Director of Group Sales and Promotions for the Pirates in the late sixties and had extensive prior experience in American League front offices):

"People in Pittsburgh don’t really know what they have in Clemente. He’s the best all-around ballplayer I have ever seen." ^[209]

• Willie Mays:

See below.

• Norm Miller:

“The guy was 38 years old and was still putting out 200 per cent on the playing field. That’s how I’ll remember Roberto Clemente. He was a winner. He could rise to the occasion – any occasion. After eight years up here, I’m convinced Clemente was the greatest I’ve seen. Yet, he was always smiling. He would always stop and talk to you… The year he spoke at the baseball dinner here is something I’ll never forget. It was one of the greatest speeches I ever heard. I'll remember that night as much as anything." ^[210]

• Manny Mota:

"Clemente and I, we played together for about six years – from 1963 to 1968. In my opinion, Roberto Clemente was the best player I’ve ever seen playing this game.” ^[211]

• Danny Murtaugh:

See below.

• Dave Roberts:

“I was just a kid at the time, only 18. Clemente was a holdout that spring. There were several of us rookies who would come in and look over at his locker to see if he had shown up yet. But there would only be his uniform hanging there. Finally, he showed up for workouts and I was a little surprised. I had built Clemente up so much in my mind that I was looking for a guy like Frank Howard. You know – 6-foot-7 and 250 or 260 pounds. But he was nothing like that. He was just average size, just like any other individual. But he was the greatest ballplayer I’ve ever seen.” ^[212]

• Manny Sanguillen:

"I don’t have to tell anybody about Roberto Clemente or Bill Mazeroski. Nobody can tell me anybody was ever any better at their positions. Maz was the greatest infielder I ever saw. I can’t imagine any better outfielder ever lived than Clemente." ^[213]

• Tommie Sisk:

"Bobby and I were close friends. He was the best player I ever saw." ^[214]

• Duke Snider:

"Carl was the best right fielder I ever saw until Roberto Clemente came along, and Clemente was possibly the best ballplayer I’ve ever seen. And just think that we could have had Clemente in our outfield… Imagine if the Dodgers had Clemente all those years. I don’t know if Clemente would have played left and Furillo right, of if Furillo would have moved to left to allow Clemente to play right. Either one of them could have been a great left fielder, and that would have given us a great outfield for years. With both of them, we might have won a few more world championships in Brooklyn." ^[215]

• Rusty Staub:

“Clemente has fantastic power, fantastic speed, a fantastic ability to hit the ball to the opposite field, a fantastic arm – he is the complete ballplayer. Roberto is not merely good at everything, but great at everything." ^[216] "Clemente's the best defensive outfielder I’ve ever seen. I’ve never been on his ballclub and I don’t know what he’s like as a team player, but this guy can do just everything to beat you – run, hit, throw, catch, and just kill you with power. Clemente does it all." ^[217] "He just beats you, and beats you at everything you can do in baseball. I know of no other player comparable to him." ^[218] "He’s the best player I’ve seen in the big leagues.” ^[219]

• Willie Stargell:

“The best and most complete ballplayer I’ve ever seen is Roberto Clemente. He responds in any situation and the guy will come up with a base hit in any situation, or a catch, or a throw, or whatever you need." ^[220] “People in Pittsburgh and people who had to deal with him on the field knew. He commanded their respect. That was the peace of mind that really made him feel good. He knew in due time that people would put him up there with the best players who ever played in the National League. He knew he didn’t have to take a back seat to anybody. You talk about Aaron, Mays, Clemente. They’re all right there." ^[221] "We faced Koufax, Drysdale, Gibson, Marichal, Perry, a young Seaver, Ryan, Carlton, Jenkins. That's the kind of baseball we had to play. To have the success he had against that kind of talent, it’s overwhelming. We got a chance to see a very special individual. As a teammate, we had a chance to marvel at talents a lot of people didn't understand.” ^[222] "I run into people who had a chance to see him play and they come up to me and say they love the Pirates. Then they’ll invariably say something like, ‘No offense, but Clemente was my favorite player on the Pirates.’ I say, ‘No reason to apologize. He was that to me, too.'" ^[223]

• Coot Veal:

“There were many guys on the Pirates who had leadership qualities: Roberto Clemente, Dick Groat, Don Hoak, Vernon Law, even Smoky Burgess. Clemente led with his play. There wasn’t a better player than Roberto Clemente. Clemente, Mantle and Kaline were the best all-around players I ever saw, and I think Clemente was the best.” ^[224]

• Dick Williams:

"Roberto Clemente was the greatest ballplayer I have ever watched. He could do it all. In fact, last year, Gonzalo Marquez, one of our young outfielders, told me he was going to copy Clemente. I told him if he could become one third of the ballplayer Clemente was, he would make me very happy." ^[225]

• Eddie Yost (responding when asked to name the guys who really stood out during his 40 years in baseball):

"Yogi... and all the Yankees, for that matter. But I saw Clemente when I was coaching for the Mets. I believe he was the best I saw." ^[226]

How ironic that the two players singled out by Yost, arguably the most selective hitter of his generation, are in fact two of the best “bad ball” hitters in the history of the game. And, speaking of irony, remember the envisioned-for-Clemente-but-enacted-by-Mazeroski triple play filmed at Shea for the 1967 film, “The Odd Couple"? ^[227] Well, forget that. The true odd couple at Shea in the late sixties was the pair of coaches stationed at opposite ends of the diamond – Yost at third, Yogi at first. Of course, both the 'oddness' and the 'opposition' could have been considerably more concrete had Yost's employment come just a few years later as, say, Mets' batting coach working under newly named Mets' manager Yogi Berra.

The following observations come circa June 1971 courtesy of one Art Routzong, Pittsburgh Pirates’ treasurer at the time of Clemente’s legendary June 15 catch against the Houston Astros. Routzong’s prior employment in the Astros’ front office afforded Houston Post sports director Clark Nealon easy access to this timely quote, relating both to the aforementioned catch and to the level of Clemente’s day-in-and-day-out performance:

“[The June 15 catch was] one of Clemente’s greatest, but, when you watch him every day, he makes so many great catches and fielding plays, almost always key plays. I can say truthfully that the first two weeks I was with the Pittsburgh club last year, I was able to watch Clemente every day and it was my greatest thrill in baseball.

“To watch him in all the things he does to influence a ball game, over a stretch of games, is the revelation of the complete player. He’ll make the big hit, shoot out runners with his arm, take away hits from the other team like he did Watson and make the smart baserunning play when it counts. He has to have a sense of rising to the occasion.” ^[228]

On the eve of game three of the 1971 NLCS, Roberto's manager – and erstwhile nemesis – Danny Murtaugh spoke with reporters:

“I saw Roberto for the first time in 1956 when I joined the Pirates as a coach. When you look at a ballplayer you look at his arm, his speed, his bat and also his power. Roberto couldn’t help but become an outstanding player. But I never dreamed that he was going to be as great as he really is. I have seen him play more than anybody. *

* Well, almost anybody; Les Biederman would beg to differ ^[229], and indeed his 14 consecutive seasons – 1955 through 1968 – clearly trump Murtaugh’s eleven and a half – 1956 thru ’64, the final two and a half months of ’67, plus ’70 and ’71. All that notwithstanding, Murtaugh continues:

“If Clemente were a selfish player, he could hit 25 to 40 home runs a season. But he’s always been content to set up a lot of runs for the fourth and fifth place hitters. That’s why I always hit him third in the lineup. That has been my argument all along with the press. I’ve told the writers time and time again; nobody ever takes into consideration the amount of runs he sets up with singles and doubles. He takes great pride in hitting behind the runner and he does everything possible to help a ballclub. All the players look up to him. He helps a manager in so many ways, starting with spring training. When the young Latin players come into camp, he takes them under his wing and advises them as if he were their father.” ^[230]

Speaking earlier that season, following a mid-May game during which, after failing twice early in big spots [and receiving the corresponding chorus of disapproval from the hometown heretofore faithful], Clemente, now batting in the bottom of the ninth with two on, two out, the Bucs down by one, the count one-and-one, would proceed to drill a two-run triple off the top of the center field wall to send everyone home happy – everyone, that is, except losing pitcher Mike Marshall and the rest of the Montreal Expos:

“I have always said that everybody expects too much of Roberto. He’s batting in the third position and in my style of play his job is to set up runners as well as drive them in. If you were to take Roberto’s runs set up, you’ll come up with a tremendous plus in his favor. Everybody always mentions the RBIs, but nobody ever mentions the runs set up. That’s equally important.” ^[231]

His intermittent flare-ups with Clemente notwithstanding, Danny could be found in print at least as early as 1960, dishing out the superlatives to his spectacular right fielder. Speaking with San Francisco sportswriters after Clemente’s 7/14/61 game-winning grand slam against the Giants, the crusty Murtaugh positively gushed:

”Clemente’s quite a ballplayer, isn’t he? Now you know why he was picked on the All-Star team. He’s as good an outfielder in right field as your Willie Mays in center. There isn’t anything he can’t do.” ^[232]

And, as if to finish that thought, he spoke with Pittsburgh writer Les Biederman later that same week:

"Just name me one thing he can't do. There's nobody better." ^[233]

Even the year before that, speaking with reporters prior to the memorable 1960 Pirate-Yankee World Series, Murtaugh could be heard bragging on his young right fielder to the uninitiated Yankee beat writers:

"You are going to see the best right fielder in baseball. He'll open your eyes." ^[234]

Many – if far too few – years later, upon hearing of Clemente’s death, Murtaugh reiterated::

“I’ve often said he was the greatest player ballplayer I ever saw. I think it was typical of Roberto – a man who gave so much of himself to become an outstanding athlete – to give all of himself in an effort to help others less fortunate than himself. It was quite an honor to manage in the major leagues, bit it was a double honor to manage a superstar like Roberto … and he was a super star. He made his mark not only on baseball, but on everybody he touched.” ^[235]

“You know what we used to call him? We called him ‘The Great One.’ He was the best player I’ve ever seen and I say that with all due respect to Aaron, Musial and Mays. Clemente was also my intermediary. He had an important influence on the Latin American players on our club. If I saw one was going astray, I’d call Roberto into my office. He’d say, ‘Give me two or three days,’ and that would be the end of the problem.” ^[236]

It was that third tour of duty with the Bucs [1970-1971] during which Murtaugh seems to have grown to fully appreciate Clemente as a human being – a trend given visceral reinforcement, no doubt by the chiropractic wonders performed by Clemente on the returning manager’s ailing back. ^[237]

“Roberto Clemente, to me, was a compassionate man. He was a man of two faces. In the clubhouse, he was the center of all the funny stories. He’d hold court in front of his locker and there was always gaiety and laughter. When the time came for the game, Roberto would put on his other face – the disturbed face he always wore when he was concentrating completely on winning a baseball game. That’s why I say the fans never knew the real Roberto Clemente.” ^[238] “When he was approaching his 3,000th hit, I asked him if that would be the most important thing in his life. ‘No, Danny,’ he said. ‘I have a project going in Puerto Rico for the underprivileged and I have made so much progress with the political men in our country that I’m beginning to think my dream will come true.’ That’s the Roberto Clemente I know, who constantly thought of others instead of himself.” ^[239]

Now let's hear from Les Biederman, increasingly a Clemente champion over the years but one for whom, it seems, Clemente never really forgave his aggressive pro- Groat/anti-Clemente MVP electioneering during the latter months of the 1960 campaign:

"The most complete ballplayer in the game today is Roberto Clemente and if you don’t believe it, simply ask his Pirate teammates, opposing players, scouts or better yet – look at the record. Clemente has been wearing a Pirate uniform for 13 years and his lifetime average is .314, despite a rather slow start. He’s the only major leaguer who has hit .300 or better since 1960 and his average over the last eight years is .330. There isn’t anything he can’t do. He can hit, hit with power at times, run and throw, and there isn’t a better fielder." ^[240]

Speaking after Clemente's death, Biederman reinforced his previous statement:

"Clemente was his own man. He told you what he thought and why he thought that way. When you’d ask him to name the best player he ever saw, he’d tap his chest and say, 'me.' Then he’d explain: 'I play the game as I think it was meant to be played. I don’t think there’s anybody who plays the game harder than I do and this is the way I play all of the time. All season, every season. I give everything I have to the game of baseball and I have a lot of pride. I just feel I’m the best.' * In my opinion, he was. I knew Roberto Clemente as a Pirate rookie in 1955, a 19-year old [sic - 20, actually] Latin who spoke little if any English but with a tremendous amount of natural baseball ability. I watched him grow into the superstar he was, the best ballplayer I ever saw and I saw him in every game he played from 1955 through 1968. He could do it all and do it all better and more often than anybody else." ^[241]

* On many other occasions, perhaps when he felt more appreciated, hence less defensive, Clemente called Mays the greatest player he’d ever seen. ^[242]

Speaking of whom, that pretty much brings us full circle. Even before Biederman, just prior to his 'abduction' by Pirates, Momen would meet Mays in P.R. Almost instantaneously, Mays would become Momen's mentor and role model. In similarly short order, a mutual admiration society twixt M & M came to be, with Mays often giving Clemente a boost over the years, both in print and out. An instance of Willie actually rating Roberto, however, had to wait until several years after the latter's demise, on the occasion of a 1979 press conference announcing Mays' election to the Hall of Fame:

"I think I was the best ballplayer I’ve ever seen. I feel nobody in the world could do what I could do on a baseball field. I hope I’m not saying anything wrong, but you have to think you’re the best." ^[243]

After it was made clear – amidst some raised eyebrows – that Willie was, in fact, being asked to name the best player he'd seen, not the best player he'd been, the newly named HOFer did not hesitate:

"The next one would be Roberto Clemente.” ^[244]

A couple of days later in Boston, Mays tried to do a little damage control, reiterating and elaborating a bit on his Clemente assessment in the process. Here’s a passage from the UPI story:

"'That’s not like me, but I was giving my honest opinion. It doesn’t sound too good, though,' the recently enshrined Hall-of-Famer told reporters at the Boston baseball writers’ dinner… He was then asked who he thought the second-best player was. 'I’d have to say Roberto Clemente. He could do anything with the bat and in the field. And then there’s Cesar Cedeno. I don’t know why he hasn’t put it all together. He can do it all.'" ^[245]

Perhaps it shouldn't surprise us, given Mays' and Momen's stylistic similarities, that their taste in ballplayers should dovetail as well. As we will see in the following passage from TSN's 1972 Cedeno profile, Clemente, just months before his passing, would bestow his own blessing upon his heir apparent, albeit in this case a considerably younger Cedeno, one with nearly all of his ultimately disappointing career yet to come:

"Henry Aaron and Roberto Clemente are 38 years old. Willie Mays is 41. The sands of time inexorably spill on. Only Clemente has managed to stave off manifest erosion of the once magnificent skills. These were the National League’s super outfielders of their era, ‘super’ used in the classic and restrictive sense. Others were excellent, but these were colossi. Who will replace them? The No. 1 possibility is Cesar Cedeno, Houston’s dynamic Dominican. Cedeno may already be the best outfielder in the National League.

"Clemente said Cedeno has more talent than anyone who has come into the league in his time. But he does not think that Cedeno should be called ‘another Clemente’ as has so often been done. 'I don’t think it is fair to him,' Clemente said. 'When I came up, I did not like to be compared with other players.' The comparison of Cedeno to Clemente is natural because their playing styles are similar. Both have power, but hit the ball to all fields and are not primarily home-run hitters. Clemente’s season high was 29. Cedeno had hit 15 after 99 games this year. ^[246] Both Clemente and Cedeno play aggressive, all-out baseball with not a little flamboyance. Both have been accused of ‘hot-dogging.’ But Los Angeles’ Maury Wills probably put that in perspective last year. 'When a player like Cedeno is on the other side, he’s a hot dog,' the veteran shortstop said. “When he’s on your side, he plays hard and is colorful.

“Clemente and Cedeno are the two most exciting players in baseball today,' said Houston manager Harry Walker, who’s managed both. 'Whether they’re catching the ball or throwing it or running the bases or batting, they do it all-out and with a flair. When they’re involved, you’re always on edge expecting something to happen. They make things happen.'" ^[247]

Based on the similarity scores method of comparing batting stats, the three most similar players are Zack Wheat, Goose Goslin, and his contemporary Vada Pinson.

[edit] Moonshots, Milestones and More: miscellaneous memorable moments

See Roberto Clemente Timeline.

[edit] Notable Achievements

• 12-time NL All-Star (1960-1967 & 1969-1972)
• NL MVP (1966)
• 1971 World Series MVP
• 12-time NL Gold Glove Winner (1961-1972)
• 4-time NL Batting Average Leader (1961, 1964, 1965 & 1967)
• 2-time NL Hits Leader (1964 & 1967)
• NL Intentional Walks Leader (1968) *
• NL Triples Leader (1969)
• 20-Home Run Seasons: 3 (1961, 1966 & 1967)
• 100 RBI Seasons: 2 (1966 & 1967)
• 100 Runs Scored Seasons: 3 (1961, 1966 & 1967)
• 200 Hits Seasons: 4 (1961, 1964, 1966 & 1967)
• Won two World Series with the Pittsburgh Pirates (1960 & 1971)
• Baseball Hall of Fame: Class of 1973

* 1968's 27 IBB also set new Pirates' single season record; this would stand until 1992, Barry Bonds' final year in Pittsburgh.

NL MVP
1965	1966	1967
Willie Mays	Roberto Clemente	Orlando Cepeda

[edit] Further Reading – including many linked articles

Please see Roberto Clemente Bibliography

[edit] Related Sites

• National Baseball Hall of Fame
• Beyond Baseball: The Life of Roberto Clemente
• American Experience: Roberto Clemente
• Santurce Cangrejeros Photo Gallery
• Corbis Corporation's Clemente collection
• 1-800-BEISBOL: 21 Days of Roberto Clemente New York Exhibit
• Video: Taking batting practice in March 1966 at Terry Park in Fort Myers
• Video: Taking batting practice in November 1972 in Leon, Nicaragua – sequences found by Norbert Jaeger, who played for Germany opposite Clemente-helmed Puerto Rican team at 1972 Amateur World Baseball Championship.
• Video: 1971 World Series – excerpt from Major League Baseball - 100 Years of the World Series (New York, Major League Productions, 2003), produced by Mitchell Scherr.
• Video: Clemente's home run in game seven of the '71 Series
• Video: excerpt from Baseball - Inning 9, Home (1970-1994), Ken Burns and Lynn Novick, producers, (Washington, WETA-TV, 1994), Vol. 17 - Home: 1970 - present/top of the ninth inning
• Video: Johnny Logan & Don Money talk about Roberto Clemente
• Video: ESPN's Clemente Collection including:

• Tim McCarver recalling Clemente
• Roberto Clemente Jr. recalling his dad
• Outside The Lines: Retiring Clemente's 21
• OTL Talkback: Will Clemente Be Honored?

• Audio: Clemente's 3,000th hit – broadcast on KDKA with Bob Prince (The Gunner) and Nellie King
• Somos la Fuerza Latina tributo musical a Roberto Clemente
• "Chasing 3000" is a movie about two brothers who travel to Pittsburgh to watch Roberto Clemente get his 3000th hit.
• Review of "Chasing 3000
• Story on "Chasing 3000" aired on NBC-TV's Steubenville, Ohio affiliate.

[edit] Notes

1. ↑ 'Momen' is a childhood nickname of uncertain provenance that appears to have stuck to some extent throughout Clemente's life, at least among Spanish speakers. In 1954, Lloyd McGowan of the Montreal Star would conclude his capsule [but rave] review of Clemente's minor league home field debut as follows: "They call him 'Momen' and I don't know why." David Maraniss' 2006 biography proposes a solution to this mystery; Maraniss maintains that the name was conferred upon Clemente by an older cousin and that it was an affectionate reference to the curious and frequently distracted Roberto's refrain, "Momentito, momentito," uttered when fending off his elders' attempts to bring him back to reality – or, at least, back to the particular task at hand. The Maraniss assertion notwithstanding, it would appear that, indeed, non-Spanish speakers did not have a monopoly on mystification regarding the meaning and derivation of 'Momen'. Roberto Clemente Jr., for example, speaking on WFAN in 2006, did not have a clue when queried on the matter by a listener. Moreover, Maraniss' sole source for his version, Roberto's older brother Matino, had been quoted to very different effect by Phil Musick some thirty-odd years earlier, as we shall see shortly. Ironically, had Maraniss bothered to read the 1974 Musick bio [rather than simply pay it lip service in his bibliography], he would have been aware of the disconnect and thus prepared to intelligently – if tactfully – follow up the elderly Matino's radically revised 21st century account.
2. ↑ United Press International: "Clemente had 'touch of royalty'," The New Castle News (Tuesday, January 1, 1973), p. 1
3. ↑ Candy Maldonado, Ruben Sierra, Sammy Sosa and Carlos Delgado are just a few who immediately spring to mind.
4. ↑ It should be noted that it's not just Latin Americans who've donned numero veinte y uno over the years. Readers may recall the minor controversy generated in 2008 when African-American reliever LaTroy Hawkins, during his brief tenure with the Yankees, requested and received uniform # 21 in a clear nod to Clemente. This seemingly innocuous gesture provoked outrage among Paul O'Neill loyalists, O'Neill likewise having sported # 21 during both his Yankee and pre-Yankee career. Many of these disgruntled fans had long advocated retirement of O'Neill's number by the Yankees, in recognition of his crucial contributions to their end-of-century mini-dynasty. Aside from the fact that the erratic Hawkins was scarcely a threat to O'Neill's claim on the title of 'Greatest Yankee to Wear # 21,' the point seems to have been missed that Hawkins was simply replicating the gesture of affection and respect first made by [Irish?]-American O'Neill 23 years earlier in Cincinnati and reiterated 8 years later in New York, paying tribute to his boyhood hero and his father's favorite player.
5. ↑ See in particular the following:
   • (UPI): "Mizell Pitches Second Straight Shutout as Pittsburgh Edges Giants, 1-0: Spectacular Fielding Helps, As Clemente Knocks Self Out," The Berkshire Eagle (Saturday, August 6, 1960), p. 17
   • Darrell Mack (UPI): "Clemente's Catch Astrodome's Greatest: Best Ever Saw, Says Houston's H. Walker," The Cumberland Evening Times (Wednesday, June 16, 1971), p. 37
6. ↑ Wagenheim, Clemente!, pp. 13-14
7. ↑ Wagenheim, Clemente!, p. 15
8. ↑ Wagenheim, p. 21
9. ↑ Phil Musick, Reflections on Roberto, p. 39
10. ↑ Hano, Roberto Clemente, Batting King, p. 16
11. ↑ Les Biederman, "Clemente, 32, Pays Tribute to Parents," TSN The Sporting News (September 3, 1966), p. 12
12. ↑ Bruce Markusen, Roberto Clemente: The Great One, p. 2
13. ↑ Musick, Who Was Roberto, pp. 57-58
14. ↑ Wagenheim, p. 15
15. ↑ Wagenheim, p. 21
16. ↑ Musick, Who Was Roberto, p. 59
17. ↑ Jay Feldman, “Roberto Clemente Went to Bat for All Latino Ballplayers,” Smithsonian (September 1993), pp. 131-132
18. ↑ Phil Musick, Who Was Roberto', p. 64
19. ↑ Jerry Izenberg, “Roberto,” The Star-Ledger (Newark, Dec. 31, 1997)
20. ↑ Maria Isabel Caceres, “Unforgettable Roberto Clemente,” Baseball Digest (July 1973), p. 114
21. ↑ Izenberg
22. ↑ Caceres, p. 114
23. ↑ Izenberg, “Roberto”
24. ↑ Caceres, p. 114
25. ↑ Musick, Who Was Roberto', p. 64
26. ↑ Markusen, Roberto Clemente, p. 5
27. ↑ Bill Nunn, “CHANGE OF PACE: Clemente: Forgotten Man of the Pirates,” The Pittsburgh Courier (February 25, 1961), p. 28
28. ↑ Markusen, Roberto Clemente, p. 5
29. ↑ Sam Nover: "A Conversation With Roberto Clemente,"WIIC-TV (Sunday, October 8, 1972)
30. ↑ Tom Singer (MLB.com): [http://atlanta.braves.mlb.com/NASApp/mlb/mlb/history/mlb _negro_leagues_story.jsp?story=clemente_roberto "A boy and his hero: Clemente, Irvin formed a friendship that lasted for decades,"] NEGRO LEAGUES LEGACY (2001)
31. ↑ Markusen, Roberto Clemente, pp. 6-7
32. ↑ Musick, Who Was Roberto, p. 62
33. ↑ Musick, Reflections on Roberto, p. 39
34. ↑ Musick, Who Was Roberto? p. 62
35. ↑ Wagenheim, Clemente!, p. 24
36. ↑ Musick, Reflections on Roberto, p. 38
37. ↑ Musick, Reflections on Roberto, p. 43
38. ↑ Jay Feldman, “Roberto Clemente Went to Bat for All Latino Ballplayers,” Smithsonian (September 1993), p. 132-133
39. ↑ Musick, p. 43
40. ↑ Feldman, “Roberto Clemente Went to Bat for All Latino Ballplayers,” p.133
41. ↑ Musick, p. 43
42. ↑ Feldman, p.133
43. ↑ Ira Miller, Roberto Clemente (New York, Grosset and Dunlap, 1973), p. 16
44. ↑ Maraniss, Clemente, p. 27
45. ↑ Hano, Roberto Clemente, Batting King, p. 20
46. ↑ Wagenheim, Clemente!, pp. 24-25
47. ↑ Wagenheim, Clemente!, pp. 45-46
48. ↑ Howard Cohn, “Roberto Clemente’s Problem,” Sport (May 1962), p. 54
49. ↑ Wagenheim, p. 46
50. ↑ Wagenheim, p. 26
51. ↑ Musick, Who Was Roberto, p. 73
52. ↑ Wagenheim, Clemente!, p. 27
53. ↑ Thomas W. Gilbert, Roberto Clemente (Langhorne, Chelsea House Publishers, 1991), pp. 41-42
54. ↑ Wagenheim, p. 27
55. ↑ Markusen, Roberto Clemente, p. 13
56. ↑ Jerry Izenberg, "CLEMENTE: A BITTERSWEET MEMOIR," from Great Latin Sports Figures: The Proud People, p. 20
57. ↑ Ira Miller, Roberto Clemente (New York, Grosset and Dunlap, 1973), p. 15
58. ↑ Arnold Hano, Roberto Clemente: Batting King, p. 20
59. ↑ Frank Eck, “Haak Recalls ‘Pirating’ of Roberto,” The Cumberland Evening Times {Friday, October 29, 1971}, p. 12
60. ↑ Bavasi with Jack Olsen, "The Real Secret of Trading," Sports Illustrated (June 5, 1967), pp. 72-73
61. ↑ Bavasi with John Strege, Off the Record (Chicago, Contemporary Books, 1987), pp. 72-73
62. ↑ Les Biederman, "Dodgers Signed Clemente Just to Balk Giants," The Sporting News (May 25, 1955), p. 11
63. ↑ Les Biederman, "Dodgers Signed Clemente..."
64. ↑ Bill Christine: Roberto! The Man…The Player…The Humanitarian…The Life and Times of Roberto Clemente (New York, Stadia Sports Publishing, Inc. 1973), p. 63
65. ↑ Wagenheim: Clemente, p. 46
66. ↑ Bruce Markusen: Roberto Clemente, pp. 33-34
67. ↑ Kal Wagenheim: Clemente, p. 27
68. ↑ Phil Musick: Reflections on Roberto, p. 38
69. ↑ Willie Mays and Charles Einstein: Willie Mays: My Life In and Out of Baseball, (New York, E.P. Dutton & Co., Inc., 1972), p. 171
70. ↑ "Lee Walls' bobble of Willie Mays' single allowed Clemente to score the game-winning run from first in game four of the 1954-55 Caribbean Series." -- Thomas E. Van Hyning: The Santurce Crabbers : sixty seasons of Puerto Rican Winter League baseball (Jefferson, N.C. : McFarland & Co., 1999), p. 70
71. ↑ Kal Wagenheim: Clemente, pp. 46-47. Also, see Santurce Cangrejeros Photo Gallery.
72. ↑ "Clemente Mourned On Island," The Berkshire Eagle (Tuesday, January 2 , 1973), p. 1
73. ↑ Richard Nixon, “Remarks at a Ceremony Honoring Roberto Clemente. May 14, 1973,” American Reference Library, 01/01/2001 – Source: Federal Register Division. National Archives and Records Service, Public Papers of the Presidents of the United States, Richard Nixon, 1973 (Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1956-), p. 529. Also see:

    • (AP): "Nixon Awards Medal to Widow of Clemente," The Bluefield Daily Telegraph (Tuesday, May 15, 1973), p. 6
    • (UPI): "Clemente medal awarded," The New Castle News (Tuesday, May 15, 1973), p. 17

74. ↑ John Wilson, "Standing Cheer for Roberto," TSN (February 20, 1971), p. 44
75. ↑ (AP), "Honor Clemente,", The Cedar Rapids Gazette (Wednesday, January 27, 1971), p. 1D
76. ↑ Wilson, "Standing Cheer for Roberto," TSN (February 20, 1971), p. 44
77. ↑ T. J. Quinn, “The late Roberto Clemente remains symbol of Latin baseball,” The Daily News (New York, Sep 21, 2005)
78. ↑ Jim O'Brien, Remember Roberto, p. 241
79. ↑ Jim O’Brien: Maz and the ’60 Bucs, p. 272
80. ↑ Bruce Markusen: Roberto Clemente, p.333
81. ↑ O’Brien: Maz and the ’60 Bucs, p. 272
82. ↑ Markusen: Roberto Clemente, p.333
83. ↑ O’Brien, p. 272
84. ↑ Pohla Smith, “Clemente Sons Choose Non-Baseball Careers,” The Los Angeles Times (Sunday, March 29, 1987), p. 15
85. ↑ O’Brien, Remember Roberto, pp. 329-331
86. ↑ Joe Heiling, “Astros Mourn Clemente’s Death,” The Houston Post (Wednesday, January 2, 1973), p. 3/D
87. ↑ Maraniss, Clemente, p. 171. Also, see Rich Westcott, “Phils Alerted to Taylor Rebound; Swat Champ in Puerto Rico Loop,” TSN (March 2, 1968), p. 33.
88. ↑ Earl Lawson, “Cincy’s May Shooting for 20 HR Total,” TSN (February 24, 1968), p. 25
89. ↑ Pat Frizzell, “Bonds Predicts Stock Rise On Tip From Clemente,” TSN (March 31, 1973), p. 37
90. ↑ William Ladson, “The Complete Ballplayer,” TSN (July 12, 1999), p.16
91. ↑ Mike Florence, “Just Because You're Paranoid Doesn't Mean You're Wrong,” The Los Angeles Times (Saturday, September 5, 1992), p. 2
92. ↑ Bob Finnigan and Bob Sherwin, “Center Field Of Dreams,” The Seattle Times (Thursday, March 31, 1994)
93. ↑ Genard C. Armas (AP): "Award keeps legend alive," The Indiana Gazette (Wednesday, July 12, 2006), p. 17
94. ↑ Ben Walker (AP): "Who's the best fielder? Rawlings names all-time team," The Indiana Gazette (Wednesday, August 22, 2007), p. 13
95. ↑ Mike Spellman: "Gold Glove creator still calls Mount Prospect home: Fifty years later, Rawlings celebrating with all-time team," The Chicago Daily Herald (Tuesday, February 27, 2007), PAGE 4, SECTION 2
96. ↑ Bill James, The Bill James Historical Baseball Abstract (New York, Villiard Books, 1988), p. 236
97. ↑ Bob Stevens, “Haller’s Homer Sinks Bucs,” The San Francisco Chronicle (Saturday, September 23, 1967), p. 33
98. ↑ Maraniss, Clemente: The Passion and Grace of Baseball’s Last Hero, pp. 99-100
99. ↑ Biederman, "Clemente's Throwing Rep Won Inaugural for Bucs," TSN (April 24, 1965)p. 18
100. ↑ Glenn Dickey, “Baseball’s Living Legend,” The Sporting News (October 26, 1998), p. 12
101. ↑ James K. McGee, “Poor Perry Loses by 2-1 Again,” The San Francisco Chronicle (Sunday, April 14, 1968), p. 1C
102. ↑ McGee, “McBean Not Superstitious on No-Hitter,” The San Francisco Chronicle (Sunday, April 14, 1968), p. 3C
103. ↑ McGee, “Poor Perry Loses…”
104. ↑ Peary, We Played the Game: Memories of Baseball's Greatest Era (New York, Black Dog & Leventhal Publishers, Inc. 1994), p. 398
105. ↑ Eddie Mathews and Bob Buege, Eddie Mathews and the National Pastime (Milwaukee, Douglas American Sports Publications, 1994), p. 182
106. ↑ Actually, that would be Jerry May. In fact, it would be well over three years before Milt joined the club.
107. ↑ O’Brien, Remember Roberto, p. 418
108. ↑ Les Biederman, "Roberto’s Rifle Wing Amazes Fans, Shoots Down Cardinals," TSN (July 1, 1967), p. 15
109. ↑ Dennis Tuttle, “The New Arms Race,” Inside Sports (August 1997), p. 35
110. ↑ Wagenheim, Clemente!, pp.123-124
111. ↑ Izenberg, Great Latin Sports Figures, pp. 8-9
112. ↑ O’Brien, Remember Roberto, p. 133
113. ↑ Markusen, Roberto Clemente, p. 117
114. ↑ Markusen, Roberto Clemente, pp. 75-76
115. ↑ Wagenheim, Clemente, pp. 210-211
116. ↑ O’Brien, Remember Roberto, p. 133
117. ↑ O'Brien, p. 223
118. ↑ Steve Blass as told to Phil Musick, “A Teammate Remembers Roberto Clemente,” Sport {April 1973}, p. 90
119. ↑ Victor Debs, Jr., That Was Part of Baseball Then: Interviews With 24 Former Major League Baseball Players, Coaches & Managers, p.158
120. ↑ O'Brien, Remember Roberto, p. 151
121. ↑ Phil Pepe, Talkin’ Baseball: An Oral History of Baseball in the 1970s (New York, Ballantine Books, 1998), p. 48
122. ↑ Blass as told to Phil Musick, “A Teammate Remembers Roberto Clemente,” Sport, p. 92
123. ↑ Darrell Mack, "Clemente's Catch Astrodome's Greatest: Best Ever Saw, Says Houston's H. Walker," The Cumberland Evening Times (Wednesday, June 16, 1971), p. 37
124. ↑ Joe Heiling, “Astrolog,” The Houston Post (Thursday, May 4, 1972), p. 10/D
125. ↑ Murray Chass (AP): "MIZELL LAUDS BUCS DEFENSE FOR HIS WINS," The Gettysburg Times (Saturday, August 6, 1960), p. 5
126. ↑ (UPI), "Mizell Pitches Second Straight Shutout as Pittsburgh Edges Giants, 1-0: Spectacular Fielding Helps, As Clemente Knocks Self Out," The Berkshire Eagle (Saturday, August 6, 1960), p. 17
127. ↑ Stevens, “Spectacular Game: Virdon Circles Bases on Error,” The San Francisco Chronicle (August 6, 1960), p. 27
128. ↑ Phil Musick, Who Was Roberto p. 43
129. ↑ Feldman, “Roberto Clemente Went to Bat for All Latino Ballplayers,” The Smithsonian (September 1993), p.133
130. ↑ Donald Honig, A Donald Honig reader (New York, Simon and Schuster, 1988), pp.145-146, reprinted from Baseball When the Grass Was Real: Baseball from the Twenties to the Forties Told by the Men Who Played It (New York; Coward, McCann & Geoghegan, 1975)
131. ↑ See "Virginians Bow to Royals, 12-11, In Slugging Bee," The Syracuse Post-Standard (Wednesday, June 2, 1954), p. 18.
132. ↑ Christine, Roberto, p. 63
133. ↑ Kevin Kerrane, Dollar Sign on the Muscle: The World of Baseball Scouting (New York, Beaufort Books, Inc., 1984), pp. 77-78
134. ↑ Christine, Roberto, p. 100
135. ↑ O’Brien, Remember Roberto, p. 310
136. ↑ Hornsby had managed Greengrass during the latter's first two seasons with Cincinnati.
137. ↑ Victor Debs, Jr., That Was Part of Baseball Then: Interviews With 24 Former Major League Baseball Players, Coaches & Managers (Jefferson, McFarland & Co., 2002), p. 182
138. ↑ Bruce Markusen, Roberto Clemente, p. 169
139. ↑ Musick, Reflections on Roberto , p. 11
140. ↑ Musick, Reflections on Roberto , p. 4
141. ↑ Musick, Reflections on Roberto , p. 11
142. ↑ Musick, Reflections on Roberto , p. 4
143. ↑ Rob Trucks, Cup of Coffee: The Very Short Careers of Eighteen Major League Pitchers, (New York, Smallmouth Press, 2002), p. 128
144. ↑ Trucks, Cup of Coffee, p.115
145. ↑ Richard Tellis, Once Around the Bases: Bittersweet Memories of Only One Game in the Majors (Chicago, Triumph Books, 1998), p.255
146. ↑ Les Biederman, “Koufax Still a Champion,” The Pittsburgh Press (Monday, May 8, 1967), p.36
147. ↑ Koufax, “My Toughest Batters,” Sport (May 1965), p.19
148. ↑ Koufax, “My Toughest Batters,” p.19
149. ↑ Jerry Izenberg, “Clemente: A Bittersweet Memoir” from Great Latin Sports Figures: Proud People, pp. 11-25
150. ↑ Maraniss, Clemente, p. 277
151. ↑ Maraniss, p. 225
152. ↑ McCarver with Danny Peary, Tim McCarver’s Baseball for Brain Surgeons and Other Fans (New York, Villard Books, 1998), p.124
153. ↑ Fay Vincent, We Would Have Played For Nothing (New York, Simon & Schuster, 2008), p. 146
154. ↑ Wagenheim, Clemente!, p.87
155. ↑ Les Biederman, "Clemente's Only Regret: One Pennant," The Pittsburgh Press (Sunday, March 31, 1968), p. D3
156. ↑ Ed Schuyler Jr.: "Roberto Explains Swing; Clemente Leads NL In Batting," The Titusville Herald (Tuesday, August 11, 1964), p. 6
157. ↑ Milton Richman (UPI), "Red's Rose is worth it: A goal, not a plateau," The Bucks County Courier Times (Tuesday, March 17, 1970), p. 23
158. ↑ (AP): "Rose Pacifies Fans, Then Belts Winning Hit 5-4; Not Super Hitter," The Waterloo Daily Courier (Sunday, October 22, 1972), p. 29
159. ↑ Norm Clarke (AP), “Clemente Greatest, Pete Rose States,” The Vidette Messenger (Thursday, May 13, 1976), p. 16
160. ↑ Revealed during the Q&A portion his April 2006 book signing at the Lincoln Center B&N in NYC. Moreover, how much he would have seen of RC even on the tube is questionable, seeing ass how the 16-year-old Maraniss, a Milwaukee native, didn't even have a team in his town from 1966 on, just in time to miss all but a handful of NBC 'Games of the Week' during each of Clemente's two career years.
161. ↑ Markusen, Roberto Clemente, p. 18
162. ↑ O’Brien, Remember Roberto, p. 223
163. ↑ Bruce Jenkins, "The Gamers -- Driven by Competitive Fires - Bonds seems aloof, but it's all a big lie," San Francisco Chronicle (Tuesday, April 25, 1995), p. C-11
164. ↑ Les Biederman, "Clemente’s Clouting Keeps Corsairs Hot on Trail of Treasure," TSN (May 31, 1961), p. 10
165. ↑ Bill Christine, Roberto, p. 103
166. ↑ Larry Dierker, "ALL Star Monday / Commentary / ON BASEBALL / Hanging with stars in summer of '69," The Houston Chronicle (Monday, July 12, 2004), p. 6
167. ↑ Koufax, “My Toughest Batters,” Sport (May 1965), p.19
168. ↑ See "Dodgers Regain NL Lead," The Long Beach Independent (June 8, 1961), p. 4 and Home Run Log.]
169. ↑ Frank Finch, "Are Dodgers Waking Up? That’s 3 Wins in a Row!; Perranoski Staves Off Pirates, 6-4 PERRANOSKI SAVES 6-4 DODGER WIN," Los Angeles Times (Monday, June 1, 1964), Part III – pp. 1, 3. Also see "Dodgers Bop Bucs Third In Row, 6-4," Simpson's Leader-Times (Monday, June 1, 1964),p.12.
170. ↑ Koufax with Ed Linn, Koufax (New York, The Viking Press, 1966), p. 220.
171. ↑ William Ryczek, The Amazin' Mets 1962-1969, p. 201. Also see "Pirates Regain Winning Ways In Exhibition Play," Connellsville Daily Courier (Friday, March 25, 1966), p. 9
172. ↑ Special to the New York Times, “PIRATE SLUGGING DOWNS METS, 7-5; Clemente, Mazeroski and Stargell Hit Home Runs,” The New York Times (Friday, March 25, 1966), p. 50
173. ↑ "Clemente Homers for Pirate Win," Syracuse Post-Standard (Tuesday, March 15, 1966), p. 26
174. ↑ O'Brien, Remember Roberto, p. 270
175. ↑ Dick Young, “ Veale Chokes Met Streak, 8-0,” The Daily News (Monday, May 2, 1966), p. 59
176. ↑ See Frank Finch, "Homer Binge by Dodgers Beats Bucs; Howard, Larker, Neal Connect in 4-2 L.A. Triumph DODGERS," The LA Times (Monday, May 8, 1961), p. C3
177. ↑ (UPI), "Bucs Bomb Astros, 10-5," The Kokomo Morning Times (Monday, June 6, 1966), p. 9
178. ↑ Les Biederman, "Veale Volunteers -- Then Learns Relief Isn't His Dish," TSN (June 25, 1966), p. 8
179. ↑ Biederman, "Veale Volunteers -- Then Learns Relief Isn't His Dish," TSN (June 25, 1966), p. 8. Also see "Davenport Plagues Dodgers; Javier Also Troubles Bucs," The Connellsville Daily Courier (Friday, June 10, 1966), p. 6.
180. ↑ Biederman, "Clemente Uses Bat to Send ‘All Well’ Message to Family," TSN (June 18, 1966), p. 15
181. ↑ Biederman, "Veale Volunteers...," TSN (June 25, 1966), p. 8
182. ↑ Heuck and Fitzpatrick, "Pittsburgh's Claim to Fame: Hall-of-Famers Tell of Times In Our City," The Pittsburgh Quarterly (Winter 2006). Also see "Clubhouse," Hayward Daily Review (Thursday, August 3, 1967), p. 30.
183. ↑ "Home Runs and Jones Beat Bucs," The Victoria Advocate (Saturday, May 7, 1960), p. 12
184. ↑ Hano, “Roberto Clemente: ‘Arriba,’” from Baseball Stars of 1962, Ray Robinson, editor (New York, Pyramid Publications, Inc., 1962)
185. ↑ Joseph M.Sheehan, "PIRATES' 3 IN 7TH UPSET GIANTS, 3-2; Pittsburgh Wins Sixth in a Row by Routing Antonelli in Night Contest Here," The New York Times (Wednesday, May 7, 1955), p. 11
186. ↑ Jesse Abramson, “Bucs Nip Giants for 6 in Row, 3-2,” The New York Herald Tribune (Saturday, May 7, 1955), p.13
187. ↑ Louis Effrat, "GOMEZ IS DOWNED BY PIRATES, 9 TO 1," The New York Times (Sunday, August 19, 1956), p. 172
188. ↑ Ernie Banks, "The Wonderful World of Ernie Banks: Clemente Toughest in Banks’ Opinion," The Chicago Tribune (July 6, 1969), p. B1
189. ↑ Les Biederman, "Tape Measure Homer Belted by Clemente at Wrigley Field," TSN (May 27, 1959), p. 10
190. ↑ Bruce Marlusen, Roberto Clemente: The Great One, pp. 220-221
191. ↑ Musick, Reflections on Roberto , p. 10
192. ↑ Ripp, “A Fan Remembers Roberto Clemente,” Sport (April 1973), p. 64
193. ↑ Peter Bjarkman, “Retiring Clemente’s ‘21’ – True Recognition for Latinos in the Majors,” from The National Pastime (2007), pp. 11-12
194. ↑ Norman Macht, Roberto Clemente (Langhorne, Chelsea House Publishers, 1994), p. 48
195. ↑ Victor Debs, Jr., That Was Part of Baseball Then: Interviews With 24 Former Major League Baseball Players, Coaches & Managers (McFarland & Company, Inc. Publishers, 2002), p. 191
196. ↑ Debs, That Was Part of Baseball Then, p. 191
197. ↑ Anderson, Sparky, p. 196
198. ↑ Douglas Heuck and Dan Fitzpatrick, “Pittsburgh’s Claim To Fame,” "The Pittsburgh Quarterly (Winter 2006)
199. ↑ Sparky Anderson with Dan Ewald, Sparky! (New York, Prentice Hall Press/ Simon and Schuster, 1990), p. 196
200. ↑ Anderson, p.204
201. ↑ Debs, p. 191
202. ↑ Anderson, p.204
203. ↑ Debs, p. 191
204. ↑ Brad Willson, "Veteran Al Barlick Honored as Umpire of Year; Clemente No. 1 Choice," TSN (February 20, 1971), p. 30
205. ↑ Bruce Markusen: Roberto Clemente, p. 83
206. ↑ Jim O'Brien: Maz and the ’60 Bucs, p. 498
207. ↑ Milton Richman (UPI),"Groat Labels Clemente ‘The Best Of The Bunch’," The Bucks County Courier Times (February 5, 1968) p.18
208. ↑ Tom Bird, “Howie Haak: Veteran Scout Looks Back on Long Career,” Baseball Digest (February 1994), p. 65
209. ↑ A.S. Young, [file:///Users/apple/Desktop/CLEMENTE%20STRAIGHT%20UP%20v.2.htm#YOUNGAS “GOOD MORNING SPORTS!; Few Words For Clemente,”] The Chicago Daily Defender (Tuesday, June 30, 1970), p. 28
210. ↑ Joe Heiling, “Astros Mourn Clemente’s Death,” The Houston Post (Wednesday, January 6, 1973), p. 3/D
211. ↑ Rich Domich, director and Ouisie Shapiro, writer, Roberto: A Video Tribute to One of Baseball’s Greatest Players and a True Humanitarian [videorecording] (South Hasckensack, Major League Baseball Productions, 1993)
212. ↑ Joe Heiling, “Astros Mourn Clemente’s Death,” The Houston Post (Wednesday, January 6, 1973), p. 3/D
213. ↑ Manny Sanguillen as told to George Vass, “The Game I’ll Never Forget,” Baseball Digest (December 1977), p. 90
214. ↑ Thomas E. Van Hyning, Puerto Rico’s Winter League: A History of Major League Baseball’s Launching Pad (Jefferson, McFarland and Company, Inc. 1995), p. 67
215. ↑ Duke Snider with Phil Pepe, [http://www.amazon.com/Few-Chosen-Defining-Dodger-Greatness/dp/1572438053/sr=8-1/qid=1169170926/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/002-3977894-4936049?ie=UTF8&s=books Few And Chosen: Defining Dodger Greatness Across the Eras (Chicago, Triumph Books, 2006), pp. 113-114
216. ↑ John Wilson, "Clemente is Staub's Selection As Greatest All-Round Player," TSN (April 27, 1968), p. 5
217. ↑ Rusty Staub as told to John Robertson, “More to Defense Than Catching the Ball,” Baseball Digest (December 1971), p. 56
218. ↑ Wilson, "Clemente is Staub's Selection..."
219. ↑ Staub, “More to Defense Than Catching the Ball”
220. ↑ Jack Smith, “Why the Pirates Are Champs,” The San Francisco Chronicle (Thursday, August 24, 1972), p. 56
221. ↑ Danny Peary, editor, Cult Baseball Players: The Greats, the Flakes, the Weird and the Wonderful (New York, Simon and Schuster Inc., 1990), p. 296
222. ↑ “Roberto Clemente: Recalling the Loss of a Legend,” The Seattle Times (Seattle, Dec 28, 1997), D1
223. ↑ Jim O'Brien: Remember Roberto : Clemente recalled by teammates, family, friends and fans (Pittsburgh, PA : James P. O'Brien, 1994), p. 242
224. ↑ Danny Peary, editor, [ We Played the Game: Memories of Baseball's Greatest Era] (New York, Black Dog & Leventhal Publishers, Inc. 1994), p. 545
225. ↑ <b>“Baseball Mourns Clemente,” The Hagerstown Morning Herald (Tuesday, January 2, 1973), p. 18
226. ↑ Brent Kelley, Baseball Stars of the 1950s: Interviews With All-Stars of the Game’s Golden Era (Jefferson, McFarland and Company, 1993), p. 187
227. ↑ See June 27, 1967 in Roberto Clemente Timeline.
228. ↑ Clark Nealon, “Post Time: Clemente’s Great Catch Proves Point,” The Houston Post (Friday, June 18, 1971), p. 5/D
229. ↑ "I watched him grow into the superstar he was, the best ballplayer I ever saw and I saw him in every game he played from 1955 through 1968." --- Jim O’Brien, Maz and the ’60 Bucs, p.268
230. ↑ Frank Eck (AP Newsfeatures Sports Editor), “Best he’s seen: Murtaugh lauds Clemente,” The Hagerstown Morning Herald (Tuesday, October 5, 1971), p. 12
231. ↑ (AP), “Clemente sparks late rally, Pirates win, 6-5,” The Monessen Valley Independent (Tuesday, May 18, 1971), p.9
232. ↑ Phil Berman, “The Big Grand Slam: Clemente Was All Set,” The San Francisco Chronicle (Saturday, July 15, 1961), p. 1
233. ↑ Les Biederman: “Clemente Cuts Wide Swath in Bid for N.L. Swat Title,” TSN (July 26, 1961), p. 19
234. ↑ Jack Hand: "Pittsburgh Hosts First World Series Since '27," The (), p.
235. ↑ United Press International, “He Was a Friend – Galbreath: Buc Owner Mourns Clemente’s Death,” The Pittsburgh Press (Jan. 2, 1973), p.25
236. ↑ Milton Richman, “‘Clemente Best I Ever Saw…’ Murtaugh Accepts CYO Award for Great One,” Simpson’s Leader-Times (Friday, February 16, 1973), p. 10
237. ↑ Phil Musick, Reflections on Roberto, p. 32
238. ↑ Milton Richman, “‘Clemente Best I Ever saw…’ Murtaugh Accepts CYO Award for Great One,” Simpson’s Leader-Times (Friday, February 16, 1973), p. 10
239. ↑ Jim O’Brien, Remember Roberto, p. 108
240. ↑ Biederman, “Clemente’s Only Regret: One Pennant,” The Pittsburgh Press (Sunday, March 31, 1968), p. D3
241. ↑ Jim O’Brien, Maz and the ’60 Bucs, p.268
242. ↑ "The best player he has seen is Willie Mays and the best pitcher is Juan Marichal, followed by Sandy Koufax, Warren Spahn and now Bob Gibson." --- Biederman, “Clemente’s Only Regret: One Pennant,” The Pittsburgh Press (Sunday, March 31, 1968), p. D3. Also: “How do you measure a man? How can you compare one man with another unless you’ve seen them both? I cannot tell about other men who played long ago. I saw Mays. To me, Willie Mays is the greatest who ever played." --- Wagenheim, p. 194
243. ↑ Dave Anderson, “The Most Natural Ballplayer; Sports of The Times 'I Think I Was the Best' The Say Hey Kid,” New York Times (Wednesday, Jan. 24, 1979), p. A17
244. ↑ Anderson, “The Most Natural Ballplayer...”
245. ↑ (UPI), “Mays Claims He’s Finest Player Ever,” The Galveston Daily News (Friday, January 26, 1979), p. 3-B
246. ↑ Cedeno would end up with 22 homers that season, with the 26 he hit in 1974 proving to be his career high – an ultimately disappointing career that never really took off as so many had anticipated.
247. ↑ Wilson, “Cesar Cedeno... The Next Superstar,” TSN (August 19, 1972), p. 3