Goodbye Rod Beck and a sliver of childhood

A few days ago saw the passing of Rod Beck and with it a piece of my childhood. I remember watching baseball games on TV that he would pitch in. Enter him in the 9th or maybe the 8th to bail the set up man out of a jam. He would stand hunched over on the mound, glaring in at the catcher and hitter from under the bill of cap and around his long hair and mustache, his right arm swinging back and forth in front of him like a pendulum with a nasty blade attached to the end of it. Once the catcher flashed a sign to his liking he straightened up, kicked his leg and hurled a pitch to the plate just as nasty for the hitter as that pendulum would have been. Then after watching Beck pick up another save, I would go outside with an old baseball glove and a tennis ball. Our neighbor's driveway ran right by our chimney and they were kind enough to allow me to stand on it and "pitch" to our chimney. I would stand hunched over, glaring at the chimney, my arm swinging back and forth in front of me. Then I would straighten up, kick my leg, and hurl that tennis ball at the chimney. I would always save the game--just like Beck.

Several years later, I read a story on the internet on Beck. He had disappeared from the baseball scene for a couple of years to have arm surgery, but wanted to come back. He wanted to come back so bad that he was playing for the Cub's Triple-A team while living out of his trailer in the stadium parking lot. But he wasn't bitter, in fact he was more personable than ever--he was always sharing beer, brats, and stories with any fan who happened to stop by. Reading that story long after I had given up my pro-baseball dreams made me a little sad I had.

In all the web postings about Beck since he passed, this blog seems to sum up my and all die hard baseball fans feelings the best.

Goodbye Rod Beck--Thanks for the memories, the inspirations, and the saves.