When the big white car pulled up in front of our townhouse, I couldn’t have imagined how the moments that followed would affect my life.
I was 10 years old and we had just moved to Minneapolis. I was always a huge baseball fan. As an 8 year old, I was thrilled that my tonsillectomy was concurrent with the 1968 World Series….a series where my beloved Detroit Tigers erased a 3-1 deficit to defeat the St. Louis Cardinals behind Mickey Lolich’s 3 victories. Now in the Twin Cities, I wasn’t sure where my allegiance should lay.
I was throwing a tennis ball up and catching it when the well-dressed man stepped out of the car. He looked at me, smiled, and said, “Hey, you wanna play with a real ball?” I was elated as he threw me the ball, then walked to a townhouse three doors down from ours.
When I looked at the ball, it was the genuine Major League Baseball article! The ball had obviously been used in a game, since it had a black streak on it. Wanting to fit in to my new hometown, I wrote “Harmon Killebrew Home Run Ball” in green ink on the ball. I still tremble with excitement when I think of that moment!
That evening at the dinner table, my mother said, “You know who’s moving in across the street? Rod Carew!”
What??
The guy who threw me the ball was Rod Carew? THE Rod Carew?? And I wrote Harmon Killebrew’s name on his ball?
In the next several months, when our paths would cross, Rod was amazingly nice to me. Once, while sitting in a car waiting for my dad on a rainy day, Rod knocked on the window of the car and handed me a baseball personally autographed by the entire team. He also took us into his apartment and showed us the silver bat he earned by winning his first batting title.
Years later, my family was dining at a local restaurant when my brother noticed Rod and his wife. I nervously approached his table to say hello, and when he saw me, his face lit up and he said, “the little red-headed kid from St. Louis Park!” I couldn’t have been prouder that he remembered me.
There are many ways this encounter changed me. The most obvious is that I have been a rabid Minnesota Twins fan since that day! Not so obvious is a lesson I learned from Rod and then had reinforced by watching my gracious, locally famous mother. It’s a cliche, but it’s absolutely true:
A person who is nice to you but rude to the waiter, or to others, is not a nice person.
What’s true of waiters is also true of 10 year-olds. Thanks, Rod, for taking time out of your Hall of Fame career to make an lasting impression on a little kid. In his eyes, you’re a true hero.
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Pretty cool story. Reminds me of the story that is circulated from time to time about the professor who, on the final exam, has a large part of the exam tied up in the question: “What is the name of the janitor that cleans the building”…
It is easy to be nice and personable to the ‘big’ people in our lives… not so easy to share life with the people under the radar screen…
I saw Rod another time….a very sad time. When his daughter was diagnosed with leukemia while I was at the UMn, one of my staff and I did a PR campaign to try to find her a bone marrow donor. It was impossible considered her mixed race – Panamanian and Jewish, and she died.
The following spring, returning hom from a visit to you and Susan in CA, I went to buy a magazine at the airport and literally ran into a very exhausted sad looking Rod Carew. I don’t think he recognized me. In his state he probably wasn’t registering faces and he is so often approached by strangers. I simply said, “Rod, I am so sad about your daughter.” He thanked me and we both retreated. So many years between words. I hope I some day have the chance to tell him how happy he has made me and my boys, and how often we speak of him as part of family lore.
I saw Rod another time….a very sad time. When his daughter was diagnosed with leukemia while I was at the UMn, one of my staff and I did a PR campaign to try to find her a bone marrow donor. It was impossible considering her mixed race – Panamanian and Jewish, and sadly, she died.
The following spring, returning home from a trip to visit you and Susan in CA, I went to buy a magazine at the airport and literally ran into a very exhausted and sad looking Rod Carew. I don’t think he recognized me. In his state he probably wasn’t registering faces and he is so often approached by strangers. I simply said, “Rod, I am so sad about your daughter.” He thanked me and we both retreated. So many years between words. I hope some day to have the chance to tell him how happy he has made me and my boys, and how often we speak of him as part of family lore.
I, too, would love to contact him. His personal website can be found at rodcarew29.com, but when you send email through the “contact me” button the mail is returned.
An addendum: Years after we saw Rod at the restaurant, Susan and I were living in Dana Point. On a whim we decided to go to an Angels game….believe it or not, “Rod Carew Night.” We had no idea! It was wonderful to be there as the Angels honored Rod and his family. It was shortly thereafter, I think, that he tragically lost his daughter. That loss has more meaning to me now that we have battled cancer as well.
Pretty impressive post. I just came across your blog and wanted to say that I have really enjoyed reading your opinions. Any way I’ll be subscribing to your feed and I hope you post again soon.