El Profe: When a Hall of Famer calls, you answer the phone
By Adrian Burgos
My baseball hero called me.
He had a question.
One that the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum told him I was the right person to answer.
It was a call that I will never forget.
Because I never expected it to happen.
Your baseball hero reaching out to you.
We were home in a business meeting. My wife Dolly, a fellow baseball enthusiast and another passionate Yankees fan, answered the phone. She immediately realized that this was a call so important that I would put aside just about anything to take it.
“Adrian,” she whispered as she gently interrupted the conversation and handed over the phone.
“It’s Dave Winfield.”
Stunned, I excused myself: “I gotta take this call.”
My Baseball Hero
To understand the emotions racing through my mind, a bit of background.
Winfield was my favorite Yankee of the 1980s. His play in right field dazzled me. He threw straight-line lasers to third base and home plate that amazed me. He was imposing at the plate, a 6-foot-6 slugger that hit for average. His nine seasons in the Bronx may have been the best stretch of his storied career, averaging .290 with 205 home runs and 818 RBI.
And when I learned about the work of The Winfield Foundation, helping people secure much-needed medical care and currently focusing on abuse substance prevention, that sealed the deal. Winfield was elevated to my baseball hero.
I collected his baseball cards zealously as a teen and up through the time I was in college. In fact, one summer when I had to earn extra cash to fulfill my contribution to my financial aid package at Vassar College, I sold my baseball card collection for nearly $1,000 — about 20 percent of its book value back then.
But I didn’t part with my Winfield cards. Those were mine. I refused to let them go even if it meant working extra hours during the school year at my campus work-study job.
“Is this Dr. Adrian Burgos?” asked the familiar voice.
“Yes,” I said.
“It’s Dave Winfield. I’m with the San Diego Padres and one of the activities that I organize is an annual tribute to the Negro League players. When I asked my friends at the Hall of Fame whether they knew someone who was an expert on Latin American connections to the Negro Leagues, they immediately responded: ‘Yes, Adrian Burgos, he is a professor at the University of Illinois.’ They provided me your contact information. Is that okay?
Honoring Black Pioneers
Yes, of course, I said.
And that’s how we met and began working together in 2007.
It’s a relationship that has endured. Over the years, we have called on each other about matters affecting baseball, worked together on recognizing the pioneers in the Negro Leagues, and discussed issues faced by Latino and Afro-American players.
That initial phone call led to a trip to San Diego, where we celebrated Negro League baseball across the Americas. Dave Winfield and the Padres did it right. The team’s annual salute to the Negro Leagues was held on a June night in which the Boston was in town. The Red Sox travel well. That meant Petco Park crowd would be larger than usual to see the Black pioneers honored.
A special luncheon launched the festivities, the year’s theme being “Connecting Continents, Cultures and Communities.”
Winfield, serving as master of ceremonies, introduced me to the attendees — a mixture of Padres officials, Negro Leaguers and invited guests, along with local community officials and members.
There I was onstage, sharing the history of Latinos in the Negro Leagues and of Afro-Americans who had performed in Latin American. Before me were a number of those who literally connected continents, cultures and communities.
Luis Tiant
Hall of Famer Monte Irvin was seated in the crowd. He had been a hero to not just Afro-Americans, but to Puerto Ricans like Roberto Clemente for his play with the Cangrejeros de Santurce in the Puerto Rican winter league. So was ace pitcher Don Newcombe, who started his pro career in the Negro Leagues and pitched in Cuba and Venezuela before taking the mound for the Dodgers.
Representing the Latino contingent were three Cubans — Kansas City Monarchs pitcher Enrique Maroto, former New York Cubans and Indianapolis Clowns first baseman Armando Vázquez, and El Tiante — Luis Tiant — whose father had been a masterful pitcher with the Cuban Stars in the Negro Leagues.
The night was special for those of us gathered on the field before the 44,457 attendees at Petco. The pregame ceremony recognized the honorees to a resounding applause. The crowd was electric with chants of “LOO-ee, LOO-ee” as the public address announcer introduced Tiant before he tossed the ceremonial first pitch.
Tiant threw a strike to the crowd’s delight. As for me, I could no longer call Dave Winfield my baseball hero, he had become my friend. Am I ever glad that I took that call.
Featured Image: Adrian Burgos Jr. / La Vida Baseball