I am well into the season of life when my baseball heroes now make headlines with their deaths rather than their heroics.  The marvels of modern communication had my niece texting me with the news of Ernie Banks passing even before I received my New York Times News Alert email.  I must have told Jennifer about my encounter with Ernie Banks.  All told it didn’t last even an hour, but it was vintage Ernie Banks if you know what I’m talking about.

There is no need to establish that Ernie Banks was an outstanding ball player, first as a shortstop and then at first base.  His induction into the Baseball Hall of Fame is sufficient to underscore all that has been written about his exploits on the diamond.  The best things to be said about Banks upon his passing have focused on the man.  His reputation was well established even in his playing days.  Willie Mays said just this week in speaking about Ernie, “He was just a nice man to be around and if you were around him you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

I was born in 1954, the year after Ernie Banks began his 19 year career with the Chicago Cubs.  Although I was too young to remember his best years which included two MVP awards, nonetheless during my early years as a baseball fan, Ernie was the Chicago Cubs.  That never changed even after his retirement and he will continue to be known as Mr. Cub. But it is one thing when a sports celebrity maintains a certain persona when he is in the spotlight, or when he is speaking with the media.  It is quite another when that same person interacts with a 22 year old college kid and the reputation ends up matching and even exceeding what had been written before and after.

My Ernie Banks story started at a baseball “clinic” held at the University of Southern California baseball stadium.  Ernie was in town for the baseball winter meetings and he was on the program – to talk about first base play if memory serves me right.  There was something about him even as he addressed the crowd of players and coaches; it must have been an air of approachability that prompted me to track him down after his presentation.  I had a reason to talk with Ernie Banks – this was not about snagging an autograph.  I had a product that I thought perhaps could be marketed at big league ball parks and I wanted to ask Ernie what he thought and how we should proceed.  Let me back up though…

I was carrying a baseball bat comb which was a small bat shaped piece of wood that had been cut and turned by a Southern Californian furniture manufacturer.  In the twelve inch long bat was a slit, into which a comb was inserted.  Voila! The baseball bat comb.  I had obtained a $300 personal loan to fund this project from the financial aid office of Biola College where I attended.  The purpose was to sell the bat combs and raise money for a ministry to kids who lived in a housing project in Los Angeles, actually not too far from the campus of USC. So after a brief introduction, I made a quick pivot and told Banks about the baseball bat comb.  I had one with me and I asked for his advise.

This is where it got really interesting at least for this baseball fan who was now engaged in a real conversation with a soon to be hall of famer.  Now I had been close to ball players before.  As a kid growing up near San Francisco, I had gone to the airport a couple of times to meet the Giants after a road trip.  I asked and received some autographs.  This was really quite different – because the next thing I knew, Ernie Banks was telling me that I needed to talk to Joe Podesta, head of marketing for Major League Baseball and he would introduce me to him, but first he needed a ride back to the Wilshire Hilton in downtown LA where the major league baseball’s winter meetings were being held.  I did not miss a beat.  I told him I would get a car.  Only one problem – I didn’t have a car.  I had caught a ride to the event with my college baseball coach, Charlie Sarver.  I raced back to our group, told Coach Sarver that I needed to borrow his car so I could give Ernie Banks a ride.  I don’t remember him asking any questions and now with the keys in hand I sprinted back over to where I had left Ernie, undoubtedly concerned that he might have gotten another ride.  He hadn’t and we were off along with Harry “The Hat” Walker (another former player and manager) headed for the Hilton.

I don’t remember a lot about the short ride, although I do remember there was conversation.  I have no idea where we parked but I do remember very clearly the next ten minutes or so. We walked into the very large lobby of the hotel and it was like the sun had come out from behind a dark cloud, as if all the lights from Dodger Stadium had been brought in.  You see, when Ernie Banks walked into that room, and it was no small room, he lit up the place.  It was like a brilliant sunny day at Chicago’s Wrigley Field where he had done the same thing for nineteen years.  I have never witnessed anything like it before or since.  Calls of, “Hey Ernie” hand shakes, smiles were in abundance.  It was like the President of the United States had entered, but without the trappings of power and prestige.  He attracted the kind of riveting attention that pulsated with enthusiasm, joy and genuine good will.  Ernie Banks was there and the party could begin.  I trailed along behind yet he never forgot about me.  How easy that would have been to do.  It felt like we glided across the lobby and up to a mezzanine level where Major League Baseball, (I don’t think they referred to it as MLB back then) had set up their office.  Things were much less formal than now with just some desks up against the wall in a corner.  Ernie asked where Joe Podesta was and we were told that he was out.  He didn’t let it drop there – he introduced me to Monte Irvin who was the assistant to the Commissioner.  As a Giant fan, I was well aware of Monte Irvin, who played along side Willie Mays on those great Giant teams of 1951 and 1954.  Monte Irvin was an equally gracious man who took my information and said he would have Mr. Posdesta give me a call.  I thanked Ernie Banks and our time together ended.  I thought it was all over – I really didn’t think I would hear from Podesta but I did.  I’m sure that was due in no small part to the fact that Ernie Banks and Monte Irvin had been involved.  The story would be of fairy tale proportions if I told you that MLB bought the rights to the bat comb.  That was not to be.  Podesta explained to me in some detail why our concept would not work at the major league level, but he was very polite and respected the idea.

So there are still a few baseball bat combs floating around.  About a year ago I had a reunion of sorts with one of the kids from the housing project.  And when I heard about the death of Ernie Banks on Friday, January 23 my mind went back to 1977 when I met a man who was the real thing.  Ernie Banks was everything and more that I had have ever heard about him.  I asked him for a favor, he asked me for a ride and for thirty or forty minutes he took me on a journey through his world that will live on forever as one of my fondest memories.  Yes Willie Mays, I know exactly what you’re talking about.  He was a very nice man to be around.