We Are Getting Old

The fine hitter and wonderful human being Rusty Staub passed away on Thursday at the age of 73, three days shy of what would have been his 74th birthday on, appropriately, April Fool’s Day.

Staub made his Major League debut in 1963, long enough ago for Houston to still be the Colt 45’s, a couple of years before the moniker changed to the “Astros.”  Rusty — so named thanks to his seriously ginger scalp — was just 19 when he went .224-6-45 as a rookie, something I noticed as Staub was just eight years older than I at the time.

Staub went on to play ball for 23 years, amassing 2,716 hits and a line of .279-292-1,466, finishing fifth in the MVP race in 1978 when the lefty hit .273-26-121. He played for Houston, then Montreal, the Mets, the Tigers, back to the Expos (where he was known as “Le Grande Orange”) and back to the Mets, before retiring in 1985 having shown among the best zone judgement ever, with 1,255 walks to 888 strikeouts (a .362 career OBP).

Since I was so fascinated by the backs of baseball cards in total, player age was just another of the myriad of number sets I paid attention to. For, statistically, there were homers and hits and strikeouts and wins and ERAs back in those days, though it was before things like OBP and WHIP were seriously followed. In fact, this was before the silly advent (and elimination) of game-winning RBI and more than a generation before BABIP and perhaps two prior to terms like “spin rate.” But, for some reason I looked at birth dates back then just like for some reason I could remember what number within the series and relative Topps set players were for a number of years (as in Sandy Koufax‘s 1962 card was #5 of the total series).

Being a kid back in those seemingly innocent late 50’s and early 60’s, I certainly saw old people as old, just like kids do now. My grandparents, for example, who were right around my present age, truly seemed like really old people, though they were just as vital I think. Although, again, in those days fitness and diet were simply not as much of a focal point as they are today.

But, I remember even looking at the cards of the players of my youth, like this Roy McMillan card. McMillan was a fine fielding shortstop, mostly for the Reds during his career, but even I remember looking at his 1959 baseball card (1959 was, and still is my favorite year of cards), when McMillan was just 29 (and I was seven) — even then the infielder struck me as old looking. And when we look at how humans dress and carry themselves these days, McMillan may well have been old ahead of his time, as were my grandparents.

I do remember, however, 10 years after Staub’s debu, when suddenly the birth dates of the players had moved into the early 50’s, meaning suddenly these guys were my contemporaries.

And then, as time passed, suddenly I am not just older than the bulk of coaches and managers, but old enough to be the father of the bulk of veterans. And for kids like Cody Bellinger, I am old enough to be his grandfather.

I am not exactly sure how all of this happened, if you know what I mean, but lately I have noticed just about every week, some Major League of my youth leaves this here Earth.

Earlier in the year, on Washington’s birthday, Jack Hamilton, a hurler for the Phillies and Tigers and Angels passed away at the age of 79. With a career 32-40, 4.53 mark over 611.6 frames, Hamilton’s career would be largely forgettable had he not been the hurler who beaned Tony Conigliaro, crushing as promising a career as anyone ever had.

Last week, Ed Charles, a third sacker with the Athletics when they were still in Kansas City, before the move to Oakland, left, and as soon as I saw the obituary, I instantly associated the name with his 1963 Topps Rookie All-Star Card.

And, as noted, this seems to happen every week. In fact, I have tried to acknowledge these players during the “Rotobituaries” portion of my Sunday Tout Wars Hour each week.

What this really means, is that we are indeed getting older (Charles was a totally reasonable 84 years when he died, though in his card he looks a lot younger than McMillan!) and after a while, we too will ideally be little more than memories on the back of baseball cards long past.

Which is all the more reason to celebrate when we are alive, no?

Tune into the Tout Wars Hour on the FNTSY network, hosted by me, with Justin Mason and featuring Lord Z every Sunday, 2-4 PM ET/11 AM-1 PM PT, and you can follow me @lawrmichaels.