Watching Aaron Late in the/his Game

Warning: This piece is best consumed by baseball fans!       

I saw Hank Aaron play in Fenway, late in his career (probably his last year). He was winding down his career playing with the Milwaukee Brewers. They weren’t going anywhere and he was all but done—a shadow of himself offensively, most of his power gone, and without what had been good speed and outfield ability. It was late in the year. Dwight Evans was playing right field for the Bosox, early in his career but already established as one of the premier defensive right fielders in the game, known especially for the exceptional strength and accuracy of his throws. It was late in the game and the game was close.

         Aaron got on first with fewer than 2 outs. (I think he had worked a walk.) The next batter dropped a dying quail into right center field for a short single and Evans covered the ball promptly. Aaron chugged into second, slowing as he approached the bag. He didn’t have a lot to slow down from, so he'd do the expected and stop at second base. He and Evans were close together, in the same part of the field, about the same distance as if they had been across the infield from one another. Aaron unexpectedly turned second and headed for third. (I’d say ‘took off’ for third but that would overstate Aaron’s speed considerably.) Evans, who had picked up the ball in shallow right center saw Aaron round second seemingly just in front of him and fumbled the ball for a fraction of second. I figured that ever so brief a loss of control of the ball came from being startled. I don’t think Evans or anybody else in the ballpark could believe that Aaron was running on Evans, especially with Evans being so close. 

         Evans smoked the ball to the third baseman and placed it perfectly in the middle of the bag for a tag on Aaron. Aaron executed a beautiful slide, late and slightly up the line. He beat the tag by an instant, a bit less than the instant that a surprised Evans had taken to control the ball. An aging Hank Aaron had just juked one of the best right fielders in the game.

         The next batter hit a sacrifice fly. Aaron scored easily, for the only run of the inning.

         I remember sitting there thinking what a smart, skilled and competitive player. I had gotten to see the athletic soul of the Hammer before he 'hung ‘em up'. Diminished skills but sharp of mind, keenly knowledgeable of his own abilities, situationally aware, a calculating student of the game using everything that he had available—Aaron had manufactured a run in a close game for his going nowhere team. He had created that run out of nothing but his smarts, his hard earned skills, his execution, and his competitiveness. I sat there in amazement and admiration. As with his life, Hank Aaron showed greatness, a depth of greatness based in no small part on character, visible to anyone who cared to pay attention.