Skip to main content

The Negro Leagues Baseball Museum

In this episode, The Negro Leagues Baseball Museum . . .


Baseball fans, Major League Spring Training started on March 17, 2022. (My Cubs vs. Chicago White Sox) Opening day is less than one month away. My question to you is this, "Have you made plans which ballparks to visit this year?"

How about the American League Central, Kansas City Royals? Casual fans may not realize this, but baseball in Kansas City has a grand tradition. Just ask Johnny.

At 18th and Vine, history comes alive at the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum in Kansas City. A few years ago, while in Kansas City, I met Johnny. A dapper museum docent, seated in the lobby, sporting a fedora, wearing a fine vest, a large turquoise ring on his right hand, and high gloss polished shoes, Johnny took the time that day to share the following tale he heard baseball legend Buck O'Neil spin many times.

"It was the grand opening celebration of the museum, 1990. My hero, Buck O'Neil, had invited the stars of black baseball, Hank Aaron, Willie Mays, and Barry Bonds, to name a few," said Johnny as we chatted that Saturday morning. "They all came except for one, who declined.

Despite his absence, it was a memorable day! John Jordan (Buck) O'Neil, Hall-of-Fame (2022) player-manager of the Kansas City Monarchs, was the first black coach in major league baseball, Chicago Cubs Scout, and ambassador! "He used to sit in these very seats and share memories with fans.". . .

Imagine this; purchase your ten-dollar ticket, then transport yourself into a world gone by. Enter the museum through an ole' fashion ballpark wooden turnstile and glance to your left through the backstop to see the Negro leagues' most famous position players frozen in time on the "Field of Legends" practicing their craft. You've arrived at the ballpark for the first pitch. It's a warm summer day. Satchel Page of the Kansas City Monarchs is on the mound. It will be a no-hitter. Scouting the field is a life-size bronze of Buck O'Neil in the pose made famous in the Ken Burns documentary Baseball.

Here you will see the stars of Negro League baseball from the 1920s through the 1950s. Many names come to mind; Andrew "Rube" Foster, Leroy "Satchel" Paige, Josh Gibson, James Thomas "Cool Papa" Bell, Walter "Buck" Leonard, Henry "Hank" Aaron, Willie Mays, Jackie Robinson, and many more.

"Buck loved to tell the story that during the grand opening, Willie Mays was so moved by the moment he went back to San Francisco and insisted to his Godson (Barry Bonds) – "You get your ass to Kansas City and pay some respect to the players who paved the way for you to play Major League ball.

"Then one day, about a year later, a big limo pulled up out front with his entourage. You know it was Barry Bonds. He struts into the place all high and mighty, but after spending a few hours, he left with a tear-stained face humbled by the experience."

Yes, they were all-stars.

So, this year plan a trip to Kansas City, catch a game at Kauffman Stadium, then take a ride to 18th and Vine; you, too, will be moved by the experience.

You just might get the chance to chat with Johnny. Oh - while you're there, stroll across the lobby to hear the vintage sounds in the Jazz Museum; that's another story.

I'm Patrick Ball; thanks for listening; see you in the next episode.

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Most Popular of All Time

Sunflowers, French Steel, and the Yellow Jersey

Watching Le Tour de France this year, I found myself transported back to August 1983 as the Peloton in Stage 10, Bastille Day, flowed through the French countryside like a brightly colored ribbon. I was in my twenties, visiting family in the Charente-Maritime region of France, completely obsessed with bicycle racing—and convinced I was much stronger than I was. My connection to cycling—and to France—runs deep. I was born in France, and my very first real road bike, at age fifteen, was a Mercier . To me, it wasn’t just a bicycle; it was a work of art made from beautiful French steel. I rode that bike for miles, through high school, into college, and until the day someone decided they needed it more than I did. I hope they at least appreciated the craftsmanship. Its untimely disappearance led me to a Schwinn Voyageur, and later, when I started racing around Illinois, to a Raleigh Competition . But during that summer of ’83, while staying with my Uncle Jean Paul in Lagord, just north of L...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Big Rip and the First Tee

The telescope (Celestron) sits quietly under its cover, temporarily blinded by Southern California's annual meteorological hostage situation – June Gloom. Somewhere above that thick gray ceiling, photons that began their journey before humans appeared are streaming across the cosmos, only to be intercepted by a marine layer that seems to have veto power over astronomy. Instead of observing the universe, I find myself imagining – The End of Everything (Astrophysically Speaking) by physicist Katie Mack. According to modern cosmology, the universe may eventually end in a Big Rip, a Big Crunch, Heat Death, Vacuum Decay, or some other catastrophe that sounds suspiciously like a rejected heavy-metal album title. Astrophysicists spend their careers calmly discussing the possibility that reality itself could suddenly cease to exist because a quantum field had a bad day. It's a remarkable way to start a Saturday morning. One moment you're contemplating the ultimate fate of spacetime...
Post a Comment
Read more

Rediscovering the Magic of Summer . . .

Summer mornings, especially on a holiday weekend, have a special magic. The air is cool, the world quiet, and the day full of possibilities. This July 4th weekend, Lori and I decided to capture a bit of that magic by beating the holiday traffic with an early morning bicycle ride. We went through our usual pre-flight checklist: Stretched out the morning stiffness. Filled the water bottles. Strapped on the helmets. Checked the tires. Three tires passed inspection. The fourth had apparently declared independence. The rear tire on my e-bike was flatter than a Kansas highway. “Well, it looks like we’re not riding today,” Lori said, with the calm acceptance of someone who had already mentally promoted coffee to the day’s main event. “Why not?” I replied. “I’ll ride my old bike.” She gave me that look —the one that safely translates as, "Are you sure about this? " “Absolutely,” I said. “Why not?” I dragged the bike stand out and surveyed my options. One glance at the aggressive gear...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Yellow Legal Pad

In this episode, the Art of Refiring July 1st is staring me in the face, less than two weeks away. For years, retirement seemed like something that happened to other people. Suddenly, it's on my calendar. I've been thinking a lot about the dreaded "R-word" lately. Not because I'm worried about having enough to do. Quite the opposite. What fascinates me is this strange paradox: Why does retirement make so many of us nervous, while having a job—even one that regularly drives us crazy—somehow feels comforting? Let's be honest. Most of us spend years complaining about meetings that should have been emails, reply-all disasters, impossible deadlines, and that one coworker who insists on microwaving leftover fish in the breakroom. Yet when the idea of walking away finally arrives, we hesitate. I think I've figured out why. A career isn't just a job. It's a highly structured coping mechanism. For forty-plus years, somebody else has basically decided what I...
Post a Comment
Read more