Date: Fri 26-Apr-1996

Publication: Bee

Author: KIMH

Illustration: I

Quick Words:

Kim-Column-Hall-Of-Fame

Full Text:

Sports Column - Learn About The Past, Appreciate The Present

COOPERSTOWN, NY - Cool Papa Harmon (that's me) has come up with a bit of a

radical idea since coming back from see Abner Doubleday Field and the Baseball

Hall of Fame in Cooperstown.

All baseball players - from Little League to Babe Ruth, from high school to

American Legion - should have to pass a 20- to 100-question test on baseball

history before they will be issued a uniform.

Crazy?

Stupid?

Remember, they called Abner Doubleday crazy and stupid when he was stealing

the baseball idea from the Indians and look at how far the game has come (not

what it has be come, because that's a whole 'nother column).

Thing of it is, on the trip up to the Hall with the Newtown High School

baseball team a couple of weeks ago, I became aware that most kids today

simply don't get it. They don't get the historical ramifications of the game,

it's link with the past. A game on Doubleday field, to most, would have been

just another game and not a communion with many of the great players who have

graced the field.

It was my first trip to the Hall, myself, and - to be honest - I wasn't sure

how I was going to react when I first walked inside. I grew up watching

baseball, playing baseball, and I learned about all the players - not just

Reggie Jackson and Thurman Munson and Rod Carew and all those guys, but Stan

Musial and Lou Gehrig, Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig, Nap Lajoie and Al Simmons,

Honus Wagner and Joe Jackson, and two of my heroes - Walter Johnson and

Christy Mathewson.

I read a lot about the game. I played games like Strat-O-Matic and Sports

Illustrated Baseball and APBA which used all the old-time greats from Cap

Anson (pre-1900) to Mickey Mantle. When I walked through the first floor of

the Hall, looking at all the plaques hanging on the wall, I felt as if I knew

who all of these men were.

I could have spent two hours in that room alone.

The kids, though, sort of just breezed through. Some stayed and lingered, but

many never got a look at Cool Papa Bell or Josh Gibson, Grover Cleveland

Alexander or Hoyt Wilhelm, or any of them. I know that several of the players

had been there once before and maybe had seen those plaques already, but I'm

sure that wasn't the only reason the room hadn't caught their interest.

Baseball is a simple game. It is far simpler for the non-fan to understand

than any of the major sports. It is the nuances of the game, the strategies,

that make the game complex and more of a battle of wits and skills than a

simple test of statistical averages.

To many - even to some sports fans - baseball is profoundly boring. But what

none of those people understand, what none of them feel, is the historical

significance - the link from one era to the next - in what they are doing.

If Matt Zavatsky or Jon Danko had clubbed a home run on Abner Doubleday Field,

would either of them have given a passing thought of a home run Musial or

Mantle or Mays may have hit on the same field?

Maybe. Maybe not.

Baseball holds onto its past more than any other sport. Football forgets what

happened more than five or six years before. Hockey recalls only the all-time

greats and none of the teams and seems to revel only in the long droughts

between Stanley Cup championships. Basketball forgets what happened more than

a year before.

It seems, though, as if a half dozen baseball players every year are chasing

immortality in one way or another - like Matt Williams or Ken Griffey aiming

for that impossible 62nd home run . . . like Cal Ripken passing out the ghost

of Lou Gehrig. Whenever a player has done something remarkable, it is almost

always placed in historical context and compared to something that happened 20

40 or 60 or even 80 years ago.

A lot of the players today, though, don't feel that link at all. On the ride

up to Cooperstown, I related a story to a couple players about Goose Gossage,

who once - with men on second and third and no one out - got the Seattle

Mariners 1-2-3 on just nine pitches and after seeing a couple blank

expressions I asked them if they knew who Goose Gossage was.

They didn't.

If they didn't know who Goose Gossage was, how would they ever know who Goose

Goslin was?

I know that watching Frank Thomas hit 40 home runs and drive in 135 runs is

awesome, but does it really mean anything at all in the context of one season?

Compare it to Lou Gehrig's stats in 1927 (.373 average, 51 doubles, 18

triples, 47 home runs and 175 RBI) and it gains some historical perspective.

I just think if more people - more players - had an appreciation for the past

(hence, the test idea) then they would have a lot better appreciation for the

present.