While Hall of Famer Cleveland Indians pitcher Bob Feller is receiving hospice care, we wanted to reflect on an outstanding interview he did with The Plain Dealer's Dennis Manoloff in the spring.
Days before Feller took off for spring training, he took the time to share with Manoloff. Just a few of the questions and answers:
PD: When you hear the term 'living legend' used to describe you, what does it mean?
BF: I owe baseball everything I am today. Whatever I may or may not be, I owe to baseball. I think of a young kid who had great parents, teachers, coaches and a scout, Cy Slapnicka, who signed me and took me in almost as his son. Living legend? It's a term I respect and appreciate because I started out as a kid with no idea what might happen in the game. Thanks to Cy having a lot of confidence in me, I was able to pitch for Cleveland.
PD: Which of the nicknames most attached to you do you prefer: The Heater from Van Meter, Bullet Bob or Rapid Robert?
BF: I don't like any of them that much, to be honest. To me, Bullet Bob is Bullet Bob Turley (1958 Cy Young winner). Rapid Robert is the most popular, but I don't care for it. Anne, my wife, doesn't like it, either. I prefer to be called Bob. If they call me Rapid Robert, well, so be it.
PD: In official baseball records and on your statue outside Progressive Field, you are listed as Robert William Andrew Feller. What is behind the two middle names?
BF: My father's name was William. My grandfather -- his father -- was Andrew. Andrew's widow, when I was born in 1918, wanted me to have her husband's name. She asked right in our home in Iowa. So my parents said, "Yes, we're going to name him Robert William Andrew Feller." They didn't. She never knew it when she went to her grave. My legal name at the county recorder's office in Dallas County, Iowa, is Robert William Feller. Robert William Andrew Feller is not my name, legally.
PD: But you don't mind the two middle names?
BF: I don't mind at all.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Ron Santo
Chicago -- Ron Santo, one of the greatest players in Chicago Cubs history and a longtime WGN radio announcer whose devotion to the perennial losers was made obvious night after night by his excited shouts or dejected laments, has died. He was 70.
"Ronnie will forever be the heart and soul of Cubs fans," Cubs Chairman Tom Ricketts said in a statement Friday. He praised Santo for "his passion, his loyalty, high great personal courage and his tremendous sense of humor."
Santo died in an Arizona hospital from complications of bladder cancer, according to WGN Radio. Santo was diagnosed with diabetes when he was 18 and later lost both legs to the disease.
A nine-time all-star in his 15-year career, Santo was widely regarded as one of the best players never to gain induction into the Hall of Fame. The quiet sadness with which he met the news year after year that he hadn't been inducted helped cement his relationship with the fans.
But nothing brought fans closer to Santo -- or caused critics to roll their eyes more -- than his work in the radio booth, where he made it clear that nobody rooted harder for the Cubs and nobody took it harder when they lost. Santo's groans of "Oh, nooo!" and "It's bad" when something bad happened to the Cubs, sometimes just minutes after he shouting, "YES! YES!" or "ALL RIGHT!" became part of team lore as the "Cubbies" came up short year after year.
"The emotion for me is strictly the love I have for this team," Santo told The Associated Press in August 2009. "I want them to win so bad."
Santo played for the Cubs from 1960-73 and wrapped up his career with the White Sox in 1974. He joined the Cubs' radio team in 1990.
Santo battled myriad medical problems after he retired as a player, having undergone surgery on his eyes, heart and bladder after doctors discovered cancer. On his legs alone, he underwent surgery more than a dozen times before they were ultimately amputated below the knees -- the right one in 2001 and the left a year later.
Don Kessinger, who played shortstop with the Cubs from 1964-1975 and perhaps saw more of Santo's play at third base than anyone else, said what he remembers most is how hard his teammate played every single day.
Kessinger said Santo deserved to be in the Hall of Fame, and cannot understand why he was never elected.
"It's hard for me to believe he wasn't elected, and I'm surprised the veterans committee didn't see fit to put him in," said Kessinger. "It would have meant so much to Ron Santo to be elected into that awesome hall."
Born Ronald Edward Santo in Seattle on Feb. 25, 1940, Santo was diagnosed with juvenile diabetes when he was 18. But he kept it from the team until he made his first All-Star game in 1963, and fans didn't know about his diabetes for years after that.
Even though the Cubs failed to make the World Series in his lifetime, Santo once said his association with the team probably prolonged his life.
"If I hadn't had this when my troubles started, I don't know if I would have survived," he said in September 2003. "I really mean that. It's therapy."
Santo was a fan favorite on a team that included Hall of Famers Ernie Banks, Billy Williams and Ferguson Jenkins. Many taverns near Wrigley Field include photos of Santo, including one in which he famously clicked his heels as he ran off the field.
By all accounts, it was a tremendous career. In his 14 years with the Cubs and his final season across town with the White Sox, the third baseman hit .277 with, 2,254 hits, 342 home runs and 1,331 runs batted in. He also was named to the All-Star team nine times won the Gold Glove award five times.
He hit .300 or better four times, had the best on-base percentage in the league in 1964 and 1966 and led the league in walks four times.
But the team routinely finished at or near the bottom of the standings.
One of the few times the Cubs didn't was in 1969, when they finished second after leading the New York Mets by nine games as late as Aug. 16. That year, a photograph was taken of Santo that became synonymous with both the team's failure and the supposed curses that have long haunted the team: There, in the on-deck circle at Shea Stadium, is Santo, a bat on his shoulder as a black cat scurries past.
Santo's disappointment with being passed over for induction into the Hall of Fame was well known to viewers, who watched him receive the news on the phone in 2003 thanks to television cameras he allowed inside his house when he thought he would be getting in.
In 2003, he was honored by the Cubs, who retired his No. 10, hoisting it up the left-field foul pole, just below Banks' No. 14.
"This flag hanging down the left-field line means more to me than the Hall of Fame," Santo told the cheering crowd at Wrigley Field when his number was retired.
"This couldn't be any better," he said. "With the adversity that I have been through if it wasn't for all of you, I wouldn't be standing here right now."
Santo had been active in fundraising for diabetes research, with his Walk-for-the-Cure raising millions of dollars
"Ronnie will forever be the heart and soul of Cubs fans," Cubs Chairman Tom Ricketts said in a statement Friday. He praised Santo for "his passion, his loyalty, high great personal courage and his tremendous sense of humor."
Santo died in an Arizona hospital from complications of bladder cancer, according to WGN Radio. Santo was diagnosed with diabetes when he was 18 and later lost both legs to the disease.
A nine-time all-star in his 15-year career, Santo was widely regarded as one of the best players never to gain induction into the Hall of Fame. The quiet sadness with which he met the news year after year that he hadn't been inducted helped cement his relationship with the fans.
But nothing brought fans closer to Santo -- or caused critics to roll their eyes more -- than his work in the radio booth, where he made it clear that nobody rooted harder for the Cubs and nobody took it harder when they lost. Santo's groans of "Oh, nooo!" and "It's bad" when something bad happened to the Cubs, sometimes just minutes after he shouting, "YES! YES!" or "ALL RIGHT!" became part of team lore as the "Cubbies" came up short year after year.
"The emotion for me is strictly the love I have for this team," Santo told The Associated Press in August 2009. "I want them to win so bad."
Santo played for the Cubs from 1960-73 and wrapped up his career with the White Sox in 1974. He joined the Cubs' radio team in 1990.
Santo battled myriad medical problems after he retired as a player, having undergone surgery on his eyes, heart and bladder after doctors discovered cancer. On his legs alone, he underwent surgery more than a dozen times before they were ultimately amputated below the knees -- the right one in 2001 and the left a year later.
Don Kessinger, who played shortstop with the Cubs from 1964-1975 and perhaps saw more of Santo's play at third base than anyone else, said what he remembers most is how hard his teammate played every single day.
Kessinger said Santo deserved to be in the Hall of Fame, and cannot understand why he was never elected.
"It's hard for me to believe he wasn't elected, and I'm surprised the veterans committee didn't see fit to put him in," said Kessinger. "It would have meant so much to Ron Santo to be elected into that awesome hall."
Born Ronald Edward Santo in Seattle on Feb. 25, 1940, Santo was diagnosed with juvenile diabetes when he was 18. But he kept it from the team until he made his first All-Star game in 1963, and fans didn't know about his diabetes for years after that.
Even though the Cubs failed to make the World Series in his lifetime, Santo once said his association with the team probably prolonged his life.
"If I hadn't had this when my troubles started, I don't know if I would have survived," he said in September 2003. "I really mean that. It's therapy."
Santo was a fan favorite on a team that included Hall of Famers Ernie Banks, Billy Williams and Ferguson Jenkins. Many taverns near Wrigley Field include photos of Santo, including one in which he famously clicked his heels as he ran off the field.
By all accounts, it was a tremendous career. In his 14 years with the Cubs and his final season across town with the White Sox, the third baseman hit .277 with, 2,254 hits, 342 home runs and 1,331 runs batted in. He also was named to the All-Star team nine times won the Gold Glove award five times.
He hit .300 or better four times, had the best on-base percentage in the league in 1964 and 1966 and led the league in walks four times.
But the team routinely finished at or near the bottom of the standings.
One of the few times the Cubs didn't was in 1969, when they finished second after leading the New York Mets by nine games as late as Aug. 16. That year, a photograph was taken of Santo that became synonymous with both the team's failure and the supposed curses that have long haunted the team: There, in the on-deck circle at Shea Stadium, is Santo, a bat on his shoulder as a black cat scurries past.
Santo's disappointment with being passed over for induction into the Hall of Fame was well known to viewers, who watched him receive the news on the phone in 2003 thanks to television cameras he allowed inside his house when he thought he would be getting in.
In 2003, he was honored by the Cubs, who retired his No. 10, hoisting it up the left-field foul pole, just below Banks' No. 14.
"This flag hanging down the left-field line means more to me than the Hall of Fame," Santo told the cheering crowd at Wrigley Field when his number was retired.
"This couldn't be any better," he said. "With the adversity that I have been through if it wasn't for all of you, I wouldn't be standing here right now."
Santo had been active in fundraising for diabetes research, with his Walk-for-the-Cure raising millions of dollars
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