This one took a long time to write. Pretty sure it’s actually the second blog post I started on this site over four years ago. I might even have started it the same time I started my post about Jeff. It just didn’t seem to have a finish to it, that is, until about eleven days ago when Buck O’Neil was elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame by the Veterans Committee.
There isn’t a lot to say about the man that hasn’t been said by much, much better writers than I am. Joe Posnanski’s book “The Soul of Baseball” is a great read, not only about baseball but about what it was like to know Buck and spend time with him. “I Was Right On Time” by Buck himself (with David Conrads) is about as good a read as you’ll find on baseball before Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier. Well…half of baseball anyway.
To prevent this from becoming a book review, I’ll just tell you how I became acquainted with the man. I met Buck, like many other former ballplayers, when he was an autograph guest at one of our card shows. I’d met Hall of Famers like Johnny Bench and Brooks Robinson. I’d also met notable guys like Bobby Thomson and Juan Gonzalez. I’d met guys scrambling to make it to the majors like Ivan Rodriguez, Jeff Frye, Brian Romero, and Frederic Sampson while they were with the Drillers. Fred and Brian never made the majors but Jeff did and Pudge had a decent career too. To be honest I was more excited about meeting Monte Irvin, who was also there that day, because he was a Hall of Famer and the headliner as it were among the guests. I had no idea who Buck O’Neil was. I’m pretty sure the flyers for the show listed him as a former Cubs coach and scout and current KC Royals scout. I had no idea he had been a player. I had no idea he was the scout who signed Ernie Banks and Lou Brock. I had no idea Irvin had played in the Negro Leagues, or that the Negro Leagues had even existed for that matter, but that was about to change.
It was late 1991 or early 1992 when Buck came to Tulsa to sign autographs for us and my knowledge of the history of baseball, not to mention an entire period of our nation’s history, got a mind blowing expansion. I was an 11 year kid eaten up with baseball. That summer I’d had my appendix out and loved the game so much I begged my doctor to let me play again only a week after my surgery (this was before they did laparoscopic appendix removals and I still have the scar 30 years later to prove it). I told our doctor I played outfield because if I had told him I was our catcher and I’d be wearing the tools of ignorance for 2-3 hours in 100+ degree Oklahoma heat he would never have let me go back so soon. I had every stat imaginable memorized and I could quote team lineups for every team known to man going back to the early days of baseball, or so I thought.
My dad and I ran our tables together and we had a routine that we followed at every show. We’d get set up early and then as long as the player(s) signing that day were agreeable I’d get my autographs signed before the show opened so I wasn’t getting in the way of paying customers. After I got my stuff signed which usually took no more than 10 minutes I’d head back to the table and Dad and I would walk the show and check in with the other dealers to make sure they were doing okay, had what they needed, etc. then we’d head back to our tables for any last minute prep. Well…that day was different.
Monte Irvin, as I mentioned, was with us at that show and he was a wonderful person. If it had just been Monte there it would have been a very pleasant day. I introduced myself to him, asked if he was doing okay, had everything he needed, etc. and he signed a baseball and an 8×10 for me. Business as usual and he was gracious enough to introduce the older gentleman with him as Buck O’Neil. And when I use the term gentleman about Buck, I mean it in every sense of the word. 11 year old idiot that I was, I thought that’s great I don’t have to chase anyone down because he was here already. Monte was a class act but Buck…man…Buck was something different. The moment you met Buck you were his best friend and the minute you had to leave you wished you could turn right around and spend some more time talking with him. About thirty minutes went by and Dad showed up at the autograph tables looking for me so we could walk the show and check on everyone. I was already about twenty-five minutes into a baseball education, and as I got older and realized it an education about life, but I excused myself and Buck told me just come on back when I was done and we’d continue our talk. Dad and I made our rounds and I went back to the autograph tables. Every couple of hours Dad came to try to pry me away so I wasn’t bothering Buck and Monte and every couple hours Buck sent him packing with the same reply, “Leave him alone man. He isn’t bothering anybody. We’re talking baseball.” That was Buck O’Neil. I honestly think I’ve only met two men in my lifetime that were without prejudice of any kind. My paternal grandfather was one and Buck O’Neil was the other. This was a man that had the grace and class to stand up for seventeen of his fellows and accept their induction to the baseball Hall of Fame when he himself fell one vote short. He celebrated them while remaining humble and true to himself as well. If you haven’t heard his speech that day, 30 June 2006, I implore you to go to YouTube and listen. It’s 7:30 minutes of your life you’ll be glad you spent watching a video.
A reporter asked Buck how he felt about the Veterans Committee’s decision not to elect him in 2006 and this was his answer.
“God’s been good to me. They didn’t think Buck was good enough to be in the Hall of Fame. That’s the way they thought about it and that’s the way it is, so we’re going to live with that. Now, if I’m a Hall of Famer for you, that’s all right with me. Just keep loving old Buck. Don’t weep for Buck. No, man, be happy, be thankful.” – John Jordan “Buck” O’Neil
https://www.americanrhetoric.com/speeches/buckoneilbaseballhalloffame.htm
It took fifteen years from the time you made that speech and uttered the quote above for your time to come. Unfortunately you passed away in that time frame. I wish you were here to see it. The smile on your face would have been glorious.
You aren’t with us now to give a speech in your own honor like you were for the seventeen men and women from the Negro Leagues elected in 2006. I’d bet good money your acceptance speech would share the same theme of love for your fellow man rather than any honor for yourself. I haven’t heard yet but I’m guessing Bob Kendrick will be giving that induction speech in your stead. I have every confidence he’ll do just as good a job there as he has heading up the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum that you, Phil, Horace, Alfred, and Larry started in that little office so many years ago. I’d also bet good money that he’ll spend some time praising you that you wouldn’t have and you deserve it. You can be sure I’ll be watching with those 11 year old eyes you opened so long ago. Thank you Buck.
Ryan's Card Collection 