At the close of August 1969, it seemed that Ernie Banks, baseball’s very own St. Jude, the patron saint of lost causes, finally was playoff-bound.
His Chicago Cubs came through Atlanta and swept three games from the Braves to build a 4 1/2-game lead in the newly created National League East. Just hang on a few weeks more, and the cursed Cubs would make their first postseason appearance since the end of World War II.
But his buddy on the Braves still couldn’t resist giving Banks the needle.
Hank Aaron on Saturday recalled the moment: “I remember telling Ernie, ‘I can tell you guys are not going to win because, man, you’re already shaking. You’re not used to winning.’ I said it jokingly. We joked with each other like that all the time.
“And Ernie said, ‘You know, you’re probably right because I feel a little of that in some of our players.’”
Sure enough, September turned ghastly. Chicago lost 17 of 25 games that month and ceded the division to the New York Mets. The last best playoff hope of the most eternally optimistic player to ever pull on a pair of high stockings dried up like spilled beer.
Those composing obituaries for the Hall of Famer Banks, who died Friday at the age of 83, were compelled to include that no one played more games — 2,528 — without a postseason appearance. For some, that might be a blot. For Banks, famous for his “Let’s play two!” joyfulness, it was almost a badge of valor.
That’s how his famous contemporary in Atlanta saw it.
“He kept you laughing,” Aaron, 80, said of Banks.
“We always joked and played with him about the Cubs never winning a championship, and he played (along) with it. He wished he had won, but his career had nothing to do with it. He was just one part of it. Anybody said anything about him never participating in a playoff, he always said, well, the Cubs still had the best team.”
Aaron and Banks shared a powerful bond. Both men began their professional baseball careers in the Negro Leagues. Banks (1953) preceded Aaron into the majors by one year and into the Hall of Fame (1977) by five years.
They spent their careers in the same league, for much of the time in the nearby cities of Chicago and Milwaukee. “We had a lot in common, so much to talk about it. Especially when we played all day games in Chicago, I’d have a chance to sit and talk to him about all kinds of different things,” Aaron said.
Aaron was the greatest home run hitter extant. Banks redefined his position, shortstop, with his power (he finished with 512 career home runs). Aaron won his MVP award the year Milwaukee won the World Series (1957). Banks won the next two MVPs despite the Cubs having losing records both years. Banks was second to Aaron for the home run title in 1957. Aaron was runner-up to Banks for the title in 1960.
They appeared in 14 All-Star games together. “One of them, in Chicago, I teased him when I looked over in my locker and there was a pack of Wrigley chewing gum and not much else,” Aaron remembered.
“I said, ‘Is this all Mr. Wrigley gonna give us?’ And Ernie said, ‘That’s all you need. You’ve come to play a game.’”
And when the two were long retired, and gone on to the rewards of lives historically lived, they found themselves sharing in each other’s proudest moments. The last time Aaron spoke to Banks was after Mr. Cub received the Presidential Medal of Freedom in late 2013.
Still, with all that connected them, it’s not as if Aaron could have helped befriending Banks even if they shared nothing. “He refused to have anyone who didn’t like him,” Aaron said.
“He was somebody you couldn’t help but love because he always had the right thing to say, all the time.”
The praise for Banks has been piling high since his death. The examples of what he meant to Chicagoans are almost countless. The famed Bill Murray named a son Homer Banks Murray, such was his affection for the ballplayer.
And then there is a quite another level of tribute when it’s Hank Aaron saying this about you:
“Ernie was the greatest thing for baseball, the way he played the game, the way he explained the game, way he talked to kids about the game.
“I never saw Ernie with a sad face on him. I never heard him say anything bad about anybody — nobody, no matter who they were. I always thought he was the most graceful individual I ever met.
“He approached the game the same way, approached life the same way. He was a wonderful person.”
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