I am so grateful that we have a loving God who came to save sinners—and that means me. It is only the daily influence in my life of that loving God that has enabled me to address some of my failures and grow as a husband, a father, a person, and a Christian. The power of His Son, Jesus Christ, and the presence of the Holy Spirit are made stronger in my life through Bible study, prayer, and fellowship with other believers.
So That Others Can Grow
My spiritual growth after I retired from baseball is one of the reasons I have invested myself and my resources in organizations such as Baseball Chapel and Fellowship of Christian Athletes.
Athletes enjoy an incredible platform from which they can make an impact, and athletes who are believers receive so many opportunities to minister. But they also need to be ministered to. I know that from experience. I often say that if Paul were to have his conversion on the road to Damascus today, the church would immediately put him on television and start him on a speaking tour instead of allowing him to go off to the desert to be prepared for ministry.
FCA began in 1954, the year before I made my Yankees debut, but it wasn’t widely established in the majors while I played. I later served on FCA’s board of directors and have maintained an association with the organization for probably fifty years because its acceptance within our public school systems has made it so effective. FCA enjoys an inroad among our youth that many other organizations and churches have not been able to establish.
Baseball chapels for the Yankees actually began out of that Sunday morning in Minnesota when Tony Kubek, Mickey Mantle, and I were unable to sneak out of the church service before our doubleheader. When Red Barber—the Yankees broadcaster and also lay minister—heard our comical story, he offered to lead private prayer meetings for the team when we were on the road. Red thought players should be able to have a time of Bible study and prayer without having to rush to the ballpark for games. Those team chapels were part of what led to the eventual formation of Baseball Chapel.
While some of us in baseball dreamed of every team holding chapel services, Detroit sportswriter Watson Spoelstra went to baseball commissioner Bowie Kuhn with the idea of a league-wide chapel program. The commissioner was sympathetic to our purpose and gave us a ten-thousand-dollar check from Major League Baseball to help start what would become known as Baseball Chapel. I had the privilege of serving as Baseball Chapel president for ten years, beginning in 1983, and I am so thankful for what it has become. Now it is organized systematically, so that when a player becomes a believer in the minor leagues and then progresses up the minor league ladder, a coordinator can ensure that proper spiritual care moves along with him. That continuity allows for more in-depth ministry to players and their families.
The presence of FCA, Baseball Chapel, Pro Athletes Outreach, and other similar ministries such as Idols Aside, UPI (Unlimited Potential, Inc.), and Global Baseball has greatly improved the environment for athletes of faith, though the organizations themselves had to go through some growing pains. In the early days, for instance, we had to watch out for outside speakers whose main interest was rubbing shoulders with the athletes or adding to their credentials: “I spoke to the New York Yankees.” Also, some Christian athletes in the early days believed that if we shared what we were really battling with, God wouldn’t be glorified. This misconception not only placed way too much pressure on the athletes, but it could actually hinder both their spiritual growth and their influence with others.
In time, though, the growing network of Christian athletes created a support system that made it okay for athletes to share their flaws honestly with others—to admit they face many of the same struggles as everyone else. Being a Christian doesn’t mean that our struggles are necessarily different from those of non-Christians; it’s just that our solution to the struggles is different. Because of Calvary and a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, we don’t have to fight our battles alone. I believe that message is conveyed much more effectively today, and I’m glad of it.
Chapter 22
God’s Hall of Fame
When my son Robby was a boy, he liked to gather my fan mail from the Yankee Stadium clubhouse and open and read the letters on our way home after games. On one of those rides home, as we were crossing the George Washington Bridge, one particular letter grabbed his attention. “Hey, Dad,” he said, “I’ve got to read this one to you.”
It was from a man named Walt Huntley, who said he attended a church in Toronto, Canada. He had written a poem that he wanted to give to me because I was a Christian. The title was “God’s Hall of Fame.” Robby read Huntley’s poem to me as I drove.
“Boy,” I told Robby, “that is good.”
When we arrived home, I went through the poem again, and as I read and absorbed the words, their meaning rang so true. I liked that poem so much that I knew it was something I wanted to use at my speaking engagements. I had no idea how many times and for how many years I would be requested to recite “God’s Hall of Fame.”
I have adapted the poem a little over time. It goes like this:
Your name may not appear down here
In this world’s Hall of Fame.
In fact, you may be so unknown
That no one knows your name.
The trophies, the honors, and flash bulbs here may pass you by,
The neon lights of blue,
But if you know and love the Lord,
Then I have news for you.
This Hall of Fame is only good
As long as time shall be.
But keep in mind, God’s Hall of Fame
Is for eternity.
This crowd on earth, they soon forget
The heroes of the past.
They cheer like mad until you fall,
And that’s how long you last.
But in God’s Hall of Fame,
By just believing in His Son,
Inscribed you’ll find your name.
I tell you, friend, I wouldn’t trade
My name, however small,
That’s written there beyond the stars
In that celestial hall
For every famous name on earth
Or glory that it shares.
I’d rather be an unknown here
And have my name up there.
On three occasions I have recited that poem when giving the prayer at National Baseball Hall of Fame induction ceremonies in Cooperstown, New York. I’ve had Hall of Famers ask for a copy. I’ve heard Johnny Bench recite it on several occasions. The late Gary Carter said he used the poem a lot in public appearances. The late Coach John Wooden, one of the most revered college basketball coaches of all time and a faithful worker for God’s Kingdom, included that poem in one of his books.
Mickey Mantle liked that poem a lot—especially the lines that say, “They cheer like mad until you fall, / and that’s how long you last.” He had planned to read the poem to the fans on the day he was honored in Yankee Stadium, although for a reason I can’t recall, Mickey wasn’t able to do so.
I reminded him of the poem when I visited him in the hospital. “You talked about using it that day,” I said.
“Yeah, I should have.”
“No, I’m not sure that was the right time,” I told him. Mickey hadn’t been a Christian when he wanted to read the poem at Yankee Stadium. He’d wanted to use the poem because he could relate to the part about the fans cheering like mad until he fell. But he hadn’t truly understood the entire poem’s meaning back then. He couldn’t do that until he became a Christian.
I recited the poem at Mickey’s funeral on national television as part of my message, and requests came from all over the country for a copy of the words.
The poem resonates strongly with athletes because it conveys how quickly athletic glory fades. Athletes can struggle when they cease playing a sport they’ve played most of their lives. They must adjust to an entirely new way of life where the earthly fame they’ve enjoyed often disappears.
When I see the lines, “This crowd on earth, they soon forget / the heroes of the past,” I think back to Roger Maris in 1966. Only five years after the season when Roger hit more home runs than any player in baseball history, and despite his continuing to play through injuries that limited his power, New York fans booed Roger when he came to bat—so loudly and persistently that he wanted to retire.
Those two lines are so true! When you’re doing well, the fans are for you. But when things go bad, they turn against you. The highs and successes of athletics are temporal—and temporary. But Christians have something else to look forward to—something time cannot diminish. As the poem states, “God’s Hall of Fame / is for eternity.”
To me, Walt Huntley’s poem describes what a Christian athlete should portray. I pray that is what I have been able to portray with Christ’s help.
I am seventy-six years old as I write this book. When I run through the lineups from the Yankees teams I played on from 1955 through 1966, I’m saddened at the reminder of how few of us are still living. And I’m acutely aware of my own mortality.
In September of 2011, I underwent a colonoscopy that revealed some polyps, and one of them was cancerous. Shortly afterward Betsy and I traveled to Yankee Stadium the last weekend of the regular season to be with Pat Maris and her children during ceremonies honoring the fiftieth anniversary of Roger’s sixty-one home run season. The morning after we arrived home, surgeons removed a section of my colon.
The surgery was successful, and the doctors gave me a completely clean bill of health. I wouldn’t need radiation or other cancer treatments. Still, having cancer found in my body caused me to consider more closely both the brevity of life and the scope of eternity. Psalm 90 came to mind, especially verse 12: “Teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.”
I don’t know how many more innings of life I have yet to play. Perhaps I should be taking a peek over my shoulder to see if Casey Stengel is preparing to tell me to “hold that gun” and then send in a pinch hitter for me. But then again, Casey would pinch-hit in the first inning, so I’m not sure what that would indicate anyway.
What I do know, however, is that I have lived a blessed life. I played more than fourteen hundred games in the major leagues, all with the team I first fell in love with as a teenager watching a movie. I played in seven World Series, three times on the winning team. I received individual accolades and made lasting friendships.
The Lord has generously provided for our family, mostly through baseball. He allowed me to achieve my dream of playing for the Yankees, then turned my career with the Yankees into open doors for opportunities far greater than I could ever have dreamed. I was able to coach and show young baseball players in college the Yankee way of baseball and, I hope, God’s way of living. I’ve been asked to share the story of my faith more times than I can estimate.
I have been able to retire in my hometown of Sumter, South Carolina. Betsy, my wife of fifty-six years, still loves me despite the storms we have encountered. I’ll sign up for another fifty-six years with her if she’ll agree to it. My three sons and two daughters either work full-time in ministry or are active in their churches. I have fifteen delightful grandchildren and four wonderful “grand-in-laws” who have married into the family, and all are excited about the Lord. That is God’s mercy once again demonstrated.
I’m healthy enough to stay active in Sumter, to keep hunting quail and duck, and—even though I’m choosing now to cut back on my schedule—to travel around the country sharing the gospel message.
I have enjoyed a remarkably rewarding life. There have been struggles, no doubt, both because of the professional rat race and because of my own failure to walk by faith, trust God, and obey His Word as I should. But the Lord has given me wonderful opportunities, and He continues to do so.
If my life is a testament to anything, it is to God’s mercy and grace. I have been blessed far beyond what I deserve.
My aim in both baseball and life has been simple: to make an impact by being used by God in the lives of others.
When accounts of my life are written, I hope two things will be said of me. First, that I played baseball in a way that made my team better. Second, and more important, that I lived my life in a way that drew others to my Savior.
To God be the glory.
Acknowledgments
I want to acknowledge my longtime friend Marty Appel, whose call started a process that eventually resulted in this book.
A big thank-you also to my sons, Rich, Robby, and Ron, whose encouragement and efforts helped make it possible. I’d also like to thank my daughters—Jeannie, who is my right-hand “secretary,” and Christie, my cheerleader. The gracious love, encouragement, and prayers from you, your spouses (Karen, Darlene, Paul, and John), and our wonderful grandchildren have meant so much to your mom and me over the years. We love you.
Thank you, David Thomas and Carol Traver, for your patience and prayers, and for sharing your gifts and skills.
And most of all, I give my heartfelt praise to the One from whom all blessings flow! The song “My Tribute” says it all: “How can I say thanks for the things You’ve done for me?”
Childhood
My sisters, Inez (left) and Ann (right), claimed I was spoiled because I was the only boy. I suppose there might have been some truth to that.
My stance got a little better by the time I hit the big leagues. Still—not bad for a six-year-old.
I may have been only five feet eight and 158 pounds my senior year, but I was still able to catch the eye of Yankees scouts H. P. Dawson and Mayo Smith.
Starting a Family
A photographer took this shot of Betsy and me the day we arrived at our first apartment in Denver in June 1956. Unfortunately, our honeymoon was cut short when I had to leave for my first road trip before we’d even unpacked. Betsy has always been a great sport.
It’s always nice to celebrate great moments with family. Here I am on September 17, 1960, holding my boys, Ronnie (left) and Robby (right).
My youngest son, Rich, was born after I retired, but he was still part of the Yankee family. Here he is with Mickey in 1969.
My daughter Jeannie was there to help me cut the cake on Bobby Richardson Day at Yankee Stadium in 1966.
Here I am amazing my daughter Christie with my bubble-blowing skills after a game in 1961.
Being a Yankee
See? I told you my swing got better by the time I got to New York. (circa 1962)
Playing Ball
Contrary to popular opinion, it can get pretty rough at second base. (circa 1964)
In my entire career at second base, I only got spiked twice—both times by Frank Robinson (20). This shot was snapped seconds before Frank’s spikes caught me in the ankle in Game 4 of the 1961 World Series.
MVP Memories
Mickey and Whitey were both great teammates. Here they are helping me celebrate after my grand slam in Game 3 of the ’60 World Series.
The guys even grabbed some grease paint to decorate the bat I used to drive in 6 RBIs in Game 3.
Here I am accepting the title for the 1960 Corvette convertible I was given for winning World Series MVP that year. It was a beautiful car but not very practical for a guy with a wife and three kids, so I ended up trading it for a station wagon a couple of weeks later.
Teammates
Here I am with Tony Kubek, Pete Mikkelson, Elston Howard, Phil Linz and Yogi Berra celebrating our 29th pennant win in 1964, after beating the Indians 8–3 at Yankee Stadium.
Clete Boyer, Tony Kubek, Joe Pepitone and I made up the Yankee infield in 1963.
Finishing Well
Even though I was still in my prime, I decided to retire from the game in 1966 so I could spend more time with my family. On September 17, 1966, the Yankees celebrated Bobby Richardson Day at Yankee Stadium. What made the day even more special was the fact that my wife, Betsy; my kids, Robby, Ronnie, Christie, and Jeannie; my mom, Willie; and my mother-i
n-law, Mary, were all there to celebrate with me.
Over the years God has blessed Betsy and me with three wonderful sons, two beautiful daughters, and fifteen grandkids. We treasure every minute we get to spend with them.
After Baseball
After I retired from the Yankees, I took a job coaching baseball at the University of South Carolina. I coached the Gamecocks from 1970 to 1976. During that time I got to work with some extremely talented kids, including Whitey Ford’s son Eddie, who was just as fine an athlete as his dad.
In 1976 President Ford asked me to run for Congress. Even though I lost (by less than 4 percent), I received a tremendous amount of support from the state of South Carolina. Three years later I helped campaign for Ronald Reagan during his run for president. Betsy and I are pictured here with Reagan during his stop in South Carolina in 1979.
Yankees Past & Present
I loved playing in the Old Timers’ Games. They were a great way to keep in touch with old teammates. This is me with Tony Kubek in 1987.
Yogi Berra and I decided we were a little too “mature” to play at the Old Timers’ Game in 2009, but we still enjoyed catching up in the clubhouse.
Billy Martin and I caught up with each other again in 1985 at a golf tournament at Coastal Carolina University.
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