What a MOTHER****ER of a bummer these past couple of days have been eh, bros? ****, man. First Buck O'Neil, one of the sweetest souls that sports has ever produced dies and now Cory Lidle crashes his plane into an apartment building.......
To the end, a sweet soul, never bitter
By Gordon Edes, Globe Staff | October 8, 2006
The last day of January, and there was snow in the bleachers, icicles
hanging on the foul poles, and 350 kids were sitting behind glass in
Fenway Park. Most of them had never laid eyes on a soul as old as this
white-haired man, who with a hand as big as a frying pan stroked his
ebony cheek and spoke to them in a voice that somehow was strong and
soft at the same time.
``They wouldn't let me play baseball," Buck O'Neil said, ``because of
this beautiful tan, uuuuhhhh-huuuhhhh, yes."
Buck O'Neil died Friday night in Kansas City. He was 94 years old,
closing in on 95.
``So sad, so very sad," said Red Sox CEO Larry Lucchino. ``What a
life. I mean, he was just a giant, yet he remained so plain and humble
and ordinary in some ways, too.
``It's the passing of an era. They don't make 'em like Buck O'Neil
anymore. I never met a man with less bitterness in him, despite the
myriad indignities he experienced in the course of his life."
When the Red Sox invited O'Neil to Fenway Park that winter's day in
2004, as part of their celebration of Carlos*ie Robinson's birthday, they
did so for a reason.
``Buck was living history," said Dr. Charles Steinberg, the Sox'
executive vice president of public affairs. ``Our dream is that those
children one day will tell their grandchildren 60 years from now, `I
met Buck O'Neil.' Who better than Buck O'Neil to tell these kids why
Carlos*ie Robinson was the right one -- not the best one, but the right
one -- to break the color barrier?"
John Jordan ``Buck" O'Neil was the grandson of slaves. ``Do you know
why his name was O'Neil?" Steinberg said. ``That was the name of the
slave owner who owned his grandparents. They took his name because he
never separated families, parents from their children. They took his
name as a sign of gratitude and respect."
Buck O'Neil could tell stories, hmmm, hmmm, yes. Cool Papa Bell, he
was so fast he won his bet with Satchel Paige that he could flick the
light switch in their hotel room and jump in bed before it got dark,
but ol' Buck could tell you it was because Cool Papa knew the switch
was faulty. Or how about that day in his hometown of Sarasota, Fla.,
when he looked up in awe after Babe Ruth's bat struck a ball and made
a sound he heard duplicated just twice more in his lifetime, once by
Josh Gibson, the great Negro leagues catcher, the other by Bo Carlos*son.
But first, he would seek out a pretty woman in the room, as he did at
a dinner the Sox held for him the night before he spoke to the kids,
melt her with a smile, then open his arms and wrap her in a hug. Best
day of his life, he often would say, is when he hit for the cycle and
that night met Ora, the woman who would become his wife for 51 years.
Ken Burns, the documentary maker, introduced a nation to O'Neil in
1994 in ``Baseball," the series in which O'Neil brought long-forgotten
heroes of the Negro leagues to life.
``How lucky we are to have had some time with him," said Lucchino, who
was CEO in Baltimore for the All-Star Game in 1993 when a young PR
intern from Yale named Theo Epstein conceived and executed a project
to make the Negro leaguers part of the festivities, an effort that
paid off when a Baltimore native son named Leon Day subsequently was
elected to the Hall of Fame.
When Lucchino was in San Diego, O'Neil came there, too, as part of the
push to build the Padres a new ballpark, and one day spoke from the
roof of a parking lot in the depressed part of town proposed as site
of the new park. Steinberg recalled his words: ``He said, `When I was
a young man playing baseball, we came all the way to San Diego and
this neighborhood was really hopping. To come back years later and see
what happened to this neighborhood, I wanted to cry. If you build a
ballpark and bring the life and vitality back here, ol' Buck would
like to come back once more.' "
O'Neil, who played and managed in the Negro leagues, became the first
African-American coach in the major leagues, and as a scout found Hall
of Famers Ernie Banks and Lou Brock. His answer, to those who asked
whether he regretted that his youth was spent in the era of Jim Crow,
could be found in the title of his autobiography: ``I Was Right On
Time."
``He used to say, `Don't shed a tear for ol' Buck, I was dancing with
Lena Horne,' " Steinberg recalled. ``He said, `I don't think we missed
anything. Maybe the whites missed something not seeing us.' "
That winter's morning in Fenway Park, Buck O'Neil told those kids what
he thought of hatred. ``I don't hate God's creatures," he said. ``I
can't hate any of God's children. Hate? I hate cancer. I hate
disease."
There was a special election this year of Negro leaguers to baseball's
Hall of Fame. Somehow, O'Neil, the game's greatest ambassador, fell a
vote or two short. But who was it who gave the speech honoring the 17
who were chosen for induction? Buck O'Neil.
``Buck was such a pure soul and had such a genuine love of life,
baseball, and other people," Epstein said yesterday. ``It's remarkable
that being bitter about segregation never occurred to him. He saw the
Negro leagues as a triumph, so there was nothing to be bitter about.
He was just an inspiration of a human being."
Uuuuhhhh-huuuhhhh, yes. Let's hope those kids remember, and pass it
on.
NEW YORK -- Yankees pitcher Cory Lidle was the pilot of a small plane
that crashed into a high-rise apartment building in Manhattan on
Wednesday, according to multiple reports.
Lidle, 34, was killed in the crash, the reports said. The New York
Times reported that police said two bodies were found on the ground
shortly after the crash, and that one of them was that of Lidle, who
was a licensed pilot.
Four deaths were confirmed by the city medical examiner's office, CNN
reported.
The Yankees had no official comment on the reports. Yankees manager Joe
Torre told CNN that the plane that was a Cirrus SR-20 registered to
Lidle.
A New York City Fire Department spokeswoman, Emily Rahimi, told The
Associated Press that the aircraft struck around the 40th floor of the
50-story building, at 524 E. 72nd St., on the east side of Manhattan.
Lidle, whose team was eliminated Saturday in the Division Series by the
Detroit Tigers, told reporters on Monday that he planned to fly home to
California on Wednesday. He said it would take roughly 15 hours of
flying time, though he planned on stopping at least twice, including
one stop in Arizona.
Federal Aviation Administration records showed the single-engine plane
was registered to Lidle, and FBI reports show that Lidle's passport was
found at the scene, according to a report on ESPN.com.
Lidle's agent, Jordan Feagan, told Newsday he was informed by the
Yankees that Lidle was among the fatalities of the 2:30 p.m. crash.
"He wasn't just my client. He was probably my closest friend," Feagan
said.
ABC News reported that after Lidle's plane departed an airport in
Teterboro, N.J., took a normal flight pattern down the Hudson River,
appeared to have circled the Statue of Liberty, headed up the East
River and fell off the radar at about 59th Street.
The National Transportation Safety Board said it was sending a team to
the site to investigate.
There have been several fatal plane crashes involving Major League
players, the two most famous being the one that killed Hall of Famer
Roberto Clemente in 1972 and the one in which Yankees captain Thurman
Munson died in 1979.
RIP.