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| 1974 Topps #55 Frank Robinson |
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| 1974 Topps #55 Frank Robinson-back. That's a pretty impressive stat line. |
One of the very best players in baseball history passed away
yesterday. The great Frank Robinson was 83 years old. Throughout his long
playing career, Robinson amassed numerous awards: Rookie of the Year, NL MVP,
AL MVP, Triple Crown winner, 2-time World Series champion, first ballot Hall of
Famer. Robinson also became baseball’s first African American manager, leading
the Cleveland Indians in 1975. Robinson hung up his spikes after the 1976
season, but he remained in baseball his entire life, later managing the Giants,
Orioles, and the Expos/Nationals.
Robinson brought an intense competitive spirit to the diamond.
Sportswriter Jim Murray memorably wrote that “Robinson always went into second
like a guy jumping through a skylight with a drawn Luger.” (Needless to say, if
he were still playing, Robinson would have some issues with the Utley Rule.) I’ve
always felt that Frank Robinson was an underrated player. I know that sounds
ridiculous—how
can someone hit 586 home runs and be underrated? I think Robinson was somewhat
overshadowed by Hank Aaron and Willie Mays. It’s really unfair to compare
anyone to Hank Aaron and Willie Mays, and while Robinson falls short in the WAR
comparison, at 107.3, compared to Aaron’s 143 and Mays’ 156.4, his slash line
is very similar. (All stats according to Baseball-Reference.com)
Robinson: .294/.389/.537 OPS .926 OPS+ 154
Aaron: .305/.374/.555 OPS .928 OPS+ 155
Mays: .302/.384/.557 OPS .941 OPS+ 156
The lowest OPS+ that Robinson ever put up was 104, in his
final season, 1976, in which he played just 36 games. His next lowest OPS+ was 118,
in 1958. Robinson had one of the greatest single-seasons ever in 1966. In
December of 1965, Robinson was traded from the Cincinnati Reds to the Baltimore
Orioles for Milt Pappas, Jack Baldschun, and Dick Simpson. (Side note: Milt Pappas
was actually a pretty good pitcher. He won 209 games and came within a strike
of pitching a perfect game in 1972.) All Robinson had done for the previous
decade was obliterate National League pitching, so why were the Reds dealing
him? Well, in the words of General Manager Bill Dewitt, Robinson was “an old
30.” These words no doubt added fuel to Robinson’s already substantial competitive
fire. In his first year with the Orioles, Robinson won the Triple Crown,
leading the American League in home runs, RBI, and batting average. Not content
to merely dominate the league in three prime statistical categories, Robinson
also led the league in runs scored, on base percentage, slugging percentage,
OPS, OPS+, total bases, and sacrifice flies. Robinson won the AL MVP, making
him the first and only player to date to win the award in both leagues. The
Orioles won the American League pennant that year, and faced the heavily
favored Los Angeles Dodgers in the World Series. The Dodgers had a formidable
1-2 pitching punch with Sandy Koufax and Don Drysdale. However, the Orioles
swept the Dodgers in four games. The score of Game 4? 1-0. How did the Orioles
score that one run? On a Frank Robinson solo homer off of Don Drysdale. For his
timely hitting, Robinson was awarded the World Series MVP.
I met Frank Robinson once, at a baseball card show in 2013. He
was very nice, easy to talk to, but a little intimidating all the same. He made
eye contact with me a couple of times as I was standing in line—one
guy was having trouble getting his cell phone to take a picture and Frank gave
me an exasperated look like “You see what I have to deal with?” I also
corrected the guy in front of me when he was talking about Frank’s 573 home
runs. As Frank was signing the guy’s photo he looked at it and said, “Look at
those guns, wow!” When I met Frank I told him he was one of my favorite players
and I wish I could have seen him play. He said “You were born too late! You
should have been born 20-30 years earlier. But if you’d been born then, you’d
be old now like me.” I told him, “You’re not old,” and he gave me a funny look.
I guess what I meant to say was “You’re only as old as you feel,” or something
like that. So that was my interaction with the great Frank Robinson. I’m just
happy I never had to pitch to him.
