Remembering Roberto Clemente

[Carissa]

Remembering Roberto Clemente
By Jonathan Mayo / MLB.com
http://mlb.mlb.com/NASApp/mlb/mlb/ne..._mlb&fext=.jsp

There are some moments in history that are frozen in time, the kind of tragedies that force everyone to remember exactly where they were when they heard the news.

For many people -- and not just baseball fans -- particularly for the people of Pittsburgh and Puerto Rico, December 31, 1972 is one of those moments. Ask them what they were doing when they found out that Roberto Clemente had been killed in a plane crash on New Year's Eve, 1972, and even now, 30 years later, they'll undoubtedly be able to recall that information with chilling detail.

Clemente left such an indellible mark on the world not just because of his exploits on the field, but because of his tireless efforts to make a difference off of it. Yes, he had a Hall of Fame career, finishing with 3,000 hits, a .317 career batting average and a dozen Gold Gloves. But that was almost secondary to a very simple, yet powerful credo:

"Anytime you have an opportunity to make things better and you don't, then you are wasting your time on this Earth."

Roberto Clemente lived by those words, and ultimately, he died by them. He boarded a plane 30 years ago with the intent to help the victims of a terrible earthquake in Nicaragua. The plane was overloaded with food, medical supplies and clothes and Clemente was determined to get them into the hands of the quarter-million people who were left homeless by the quake. The plane disappeared into the Atlantic off the coast of Puerto Rico and Clemente's body was never found.

"Roberto Clemente played the game of baseball with great passion," said Pirate teammate Manny Sanguillen, who was so distraught at the news that he had to be dragged away from the shores after diving relentlessly to find Clemente. "That passion could only be matched by his unrelenting commitment to make a difference in the lives of the less fortunate and those in need.

"People saw Roberto as a great ballplayer and humanitarian. He was also a great father, husband, teammate and friend."

Now, on the 30th anniversary of his death, that is how Clemente is remembered. His strenghts as a hitter and right fielder notwithstanding, it was his power as a human being that is his lasting legacy.

"My father's life and death has had such profound affect on so many people", said Luis Roberto Clemente, one of Roberto's sons. "Our family has been the recipient of so much love and affection from people who knew him and/or have been just touched by his spirit."

It's not uncommon for a former great player to have Little Leagues named after him, or even a street in his hometown or the city in which he played. Clemente has a slew of those: 16 streets, leagues, parks and recreation centers throughout the United States and Puerto Rico. But there are also 10 schools that bear Clemente's name, an honor usually bestowed upon a fallen head of state or military hero.

There's also the Roberto Clemente Award, an annual recognition of a player "who best exemplifies the game of baseball, sportsmanship, community involvement and the individual's contribution to his team." Originally the Commissioner's Award, it was renamed to honor Clemente after his death.

But even this does not do justice to the Clemente legacy because it doesn't fully encompass the pioneering role he took on the field. While today's game is dominated by Latino greats, Clemente often stood alone on that pedestal. He brought a different flair to the game, one that at the time was often wrongly portrayed as "hot-dogging."

"He really stood out, because there weren't a lot of Latino players," said journalist Marcus Breton, who co-authored the book "Away Games: The Life and Times of a Latin Baseball Player" about Miguel Tejada and has a new work, "Home is Everything: The Latino Baseball Story: From the Barrio to the Major Leagues," set to be published this spring. "The game was much more mechanical back then. He kind of put that style on the map and made it what it was. He foreshadowed what the game would become, which is one dominated by Latino players.

"He really championed the cause of Latino players back in the '60s and '70s and challenged stereotypes of Latino people, not just players, but in larger life."

He foreshadowed today's game only to a point, says Breton. While today's players may owe a debt of gratitude to Clemente for paving the way on the field, they haven't always followed his example off of it. Clemente wasn't a perfect human being, but was rare in having strong convictions and always following them.

"The thing with clemente is, all these years later, he's become a myth," Breton said. "The myth is a lot less interesting than the real man. The real man had flaws and shortcomings, but also really cared about things and really stood for things. He had really admirable characteristics absent from today's athletes."

From the moment news spread about his death to the present -- and most likely into the future -- people will struggle to find the correct words to describe what Roberto Clemente has meant to the game and the world at large. Bowie Kuhn, then the Commissioner of baseball, offered these words to eulogize the great right fielder, hitter and human being in 1972. Now, 30 years later, they handle the herculean task of capturing Clemente as well as can be expected:

"He gave the term 'complete' a new meaning," Kuhn said. "He made the word 'superstar' seem inadequate. He had about him the touch of royalty."

"So very great was he as a player. So very great was he a leader. So very great was he a humanitarian in the cause of his fellow men. So very great was he an inspiration to the young and to all of us in baseball and throughout the world of sports. And so very great was his devotion to young people everywhere and particularly to the young people of his native island of Puerto Rico. Having said all those words, they are very inadequate to describe the real greatness of Roberto Walker Clemente."

Jonathan Mayo is a writer for MLB.com. This story was not subject to the approval of Major League Baseball or its clubs.

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Clemente's legacy lives, 30 years later
By Steve DiMeglio, USA TODAY Sports Weekly
http://www.usatoday.com/sports/bbw/2...2-majors_x.htm

A part of Pittsburgh died 30 years ago.

The legacy, however, of Roberto Clemente, who graced the steel town with dignity, purpose and commitment, justly endures. The Sixth Street Bridge, which spans the Allegheny River and joins downtown Pittsburgh to the North Side at Federal Street, is known as the Roberto Clemente Bridge. A larger-than-life statue that portrays his unforgettable swing stands near PNC Park, across the street from Roberto Clemente Park.

Hospitals, playgrounds and schools are named in his honor, not only in his native land of Puerto Rico but also in his adopted one, the United States. He was the second baseball player to appear on a U.S. postage stamp (Jackie Robinson was the first). No. 21 jerseys still abound in the grandstands, as do T-shirts that bear his likeness.

All are fitting tributes to a man who was the very soul of the Pittsburgh Pirates for 20 years and won universal admiration for his pride and humanitarianism.

"Roberto Clemente is our Jackie Robinson," Texas Rangers shortstop Alex Rodriguez said of his fellow Latinos. "He was a big inspiration for what he did on and off the field — for everyone. The way he died on the battlefield, helping out thousands of people, was really indicative of what his whole life was all about."

On Sept. 30, 1972, Clemente drove a double off New York Mets pitcher Jon Matlack at Three Rivers Stadium for hit No. 3,000. Willie Mays shook his hand. It would be the final hit of Clemente's career.

After an earthquake in Nicaragua in the winter of '72 killed 6,000 people and left 100,000 homeless, Clemente felt compelled to help and ignored an eerie premonition from his son Roberto Jr., then 7.

"I didn't want him to go," he said. "I told him I didn't think he was going to come back. I told him I thought the plane was going to go down. He told me everything would be fine."

Someone, Clemente thought, had to help, especially since the black market in Nicaragua had already stolen tons of food and supplies. His mission of mercy — he and four others loaded a small DC-7 plane with eight tons of food and supplies — never got past the San Juan border as the plane crashed into the Caribbean Sea about 9:30 p.m. on Dec. 31, 1972. The crash killed all five passengers.

In the ensuing days, Clemente's wife, Vera, stood for hours heartbroken on the beach as U.S. Navy divers searched the waters. Manny Sanguillen, his teammate and a man who idolized him, relentlessly plunged into the waters to find his friend. Thousands of Puerto Ricans, tears streaming down their faces, hoped against hope.

Clemente's body was never found, only a sock and his briefcase.

He was 38.

Just like that, just a week after Franco Harris' Immaculate Reception lifted the spirits of an entire city, the Great One was gone. In a blink of an eye, the man who fought gallantly to cut through racial lines with a prideful touch was no more. In an instant, the man who wore No. 21 to account for all the letters in his full name reminded us about the cruel facts of life and death.

But Clemente's example lasts, a tribute to how he lived. Born Aug. 18, 1934, he was the youngest of five sons born to Melchor and Luisa Clemente in Carolina, a town of 15,000 near Puerto Rico's capital of San Juan. It didn't take Clemente long to begin his helping ways. In the sixth grade he started a collection in his neighborhood to fix a fence at school.

Years later, when he was asked about his charitable commitments, Clemente wasted little time with his answer.

"Anytime you have an opportunity to make things better and you don't, then you are wasting your time on this earth," he said.

When he arrived in the United States, he became the first black superstar in a mostly white, mostly blue-collar town. His initial exposure to racism came in Pittsburgh. He had to deal with restaurant doors slammed in his face and media that didn't understand him and sometimes chose to mock him. He was once asked if he wore a loincloth in Puerto Rico. He was labeled as a malcontent and malingerer, often referred to in print as a "Puerto Rican hot dog." Whispers that he didn't always play hard, that he was trouble in the clubhouse, were loud.

Clemente stood up to the insulting taunts and used them to fuel his intensity on the field. It also moved him to help off the field.

"When other Latino players came to Pittsburgh, my dad would bring them home," Roberto Jr. said. "There would be big dinners with stories and jokes all night. It was an open house. My dad felt he needed to take care of them when they were in his city.

"People really don't know how good a sense of humor he had. He always wore his game face once he walked out the door. He was representing Latinos and minorities and always worked for that respect. He didn't want to be looked at as a joker. He was all business.

"But at home he let his hair down, and he was a very funny guy."

Immediately after Clemente's death, the Baseball Writers' Association of America waived the customary five-year wait for the Hall of Fame and voted him in, making him the first Latino in the Baseball Hall of Fame. At the ceremony in 1973, Commissioner Bowie Kuhn also honored him by creating the "Roberto Clemente Award," the highest award in baseball for sportsmanship and community activism.

"He was so very great a man, as a leader and humanitarian, so very great an inspiration to the young and to all in baseball, especially to the proud people of his homeland, Puerto Rico," Kuhn said that day.

Last year at the annual Baseball Assistance Team dinner in New York, Clemente was recognized for his heroic efforts on and off the field. More than 125 current and former major leaguers, including Hall of Famers Whitey Ford, Tom Seaver, Bob Gibson and Joe Morgan, honored Clemente in a moving tribute.

Broadcaster Jon Miller, who grew up in the Bay Area and was a San Francisco Giants fan, was on hand.

"For us, it was a given that Willie Mays was the greatest player in the game," Miller said. "But in the '71 World Series against Baltimore, Clemente put on a show. Offensively, with his arm, with his legs, he was a revelation for the rest of the country.

"Roberto Clemente to this day still does not get proper credit for as great a player as he was. People who didn't see him play look at the stats and say, 'Well, he didn't hit 500 homers, and he didn't do this or do that.'

"But again, if you hear the players who played against him, you realize the kind of respect they have for him. Willie Mays always said that for him, Roberto Clemente was the greatest all-around player he played against. So you have to take Willie Mays' word on that, right?"

For the record, Clemente won 12 Gold Glove awards, four batting titles, and two World Series titles. His lifetime batting average was .317 and he played in 12 consecutive All-Star games. He was the World Series MVP in 1971 when he towered over Baltimore, with 12 hits in 29 at-bats, including two home runs, two doubles and a triple. He put that rifle arm on display from right field. It was an arm that broadcaster Vin Scully said allowed him to "field the ball in New York and throw out a guy in Pennsylvania."

But on that January night in the Marriott Marquis Hotel in Times Square, in a large banquet hall full of baseball players and fans that love to talk about the national pastime, Clemente's ideals and compassion took center stage.

"When people talk to me about him, they are talking about someone who was vivid in life," Roberto Jr. said. "I do believe in the work of angels and that they do live among us. My dad was one of the chosen ones. ...

"I totally believe that in this day and age, young people need to understand that we are responsible for our actions and we are responsible for what we become as people. To understand how my father lived his life, how he gave of himself, how he was a role model, how he tried to become a better person every day to make this a better world, should not be forgotten."

E-mail: sdimeglio@usatoday.com

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Roberto remembered
Clemente's legacy lives on 30 years after fatal flight
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/bas...remembered_ap/

NEW YORK (AP) -- Their major league paths crossed only briefly. Jackie Robinson was ending a Hall of Fame career crammed with sociological ramifications about the same time that Roberto Clemente was starting one every bit as critical.

They shared one other similarity. Each of them believed there was more to life than runs, hits and errors.

Robinson's philosophy is etched on his tombstone: "A life is not important except in the impact it has on other lives."

Clemente put it this way: "Anytime you have an opportunity to make things better and you don't, then you are wasting your time on this Earth."

Robinson's impact as modern baseball's first black player was enormous. Clemente, the most important Latin player, did not waste his time.

Thirty years ago Tuesday, as many of his friends and teammates were celebrating New Year's Eve, Clemente was at the airport in San Juan, Puerto Rico, loading rescue supplies on a prop-driven DC-7 bound for earthquake victims in Nicaragua.

Three thousand people were dead. Thousands more were injured. Clemente already had flown there once to help the survivors. Now, disturbed by reports that the black market had dipped into rescue supplies, he was returning.

The flight had been delayed 16 hours. Clemente was impatient, eager to get on with the trip because he knew how desperately the people needed help. Waiting for a replacement plane would have been wasting time.

So they took off, five men in a plane with a history of problems, overloaded with 16,000 pounds of supplies.

Bound for eternity.

Long before the doomed Nicaragua flight, Clemente had expressed humanitarian interests that stretched well beyond baseball. His dream was to establish a sports city in Puerto Rico and he dedicated himself to improving the lives of those from the island. He had a passion for his native land.

That same passion led him to the plight of the people of Nicaragua and the fateful New Year's Eve flight.

"At the time of the crash, my father was looking for land for the Sports City," said Robert Clemente, Jr. "He had talked to friends and people. It was his dream. After the crash, the governor donated 600 acres of land to build the city."

Today, the Sports City stands 10 minutes from the airport, six baseball fields, a track, basketball and volleyball facilities.

"It is his legacy," Clemente said. "His dream lives there."

His father was an established star, equipped with a spotless resume that included 3,000 hits, a milestone achieved in the final game of the 1972 season. There were four batting championships, a career .317 average and grudging acknowledgment that he was probably the best right fielder of his time.

At 38, he planned to play one, perhaps two more years. "He was tiring of the travel," his son said. "He was talking about retiring. He felt he was missing too much time with us."

As difficult a time as Robinson experienced as the first black player, Clemente found much the same resistance as the first Latin standout. There were other Hispanics before him but never one who demonstrated his skills.

And when he began to emerge as a star, there were whispers.

He didn't always play hard.

He was a hypochondriac.

He was trouble in the clubhouse.

Nellie Briles remembered hearing all that when he pitched for the St. Louis Cardinals. When he joined Pittsburgh in 1971, Briles discovered a different Clemente.

"You never fully appreciate a player until you see him play every day, see how he goes about his work, see how he goes about supporting his teammates and what kind of leader he is," he said.

"He never felt he got the recognition of the others who were in the limelight, the Mantles, the Aarons the Mayses. Roberto had such an intense pride, he felt he belonged in that select company.

"You never fully understand the impact that a player like Roberto has. You heard that he never was all that outgoing as far as the public is concerned, but he was greatly respected by his teammates, as I found out. He was a player's player. When I saw him every day, I fully realized what a great player he was and what a leader he was."

The other Pirates already knew that even if the rest of baseball did not. In 1971, Clemente would make the ultimate statement in the spotlight of the World Series.

"Now they will see how I play," he said.

And they did.

"He knew that was his opportunity," his son said. "He was ready for it."

Clemente grabbed that Series against Baltimore by the lapels and shook it hard. He had 12 hits in 29 at-bats including two home runs, two doubles and a triple. He drove in four runs and scored three, and put that rifle arm on display from right field.

"All the things he worked so hard for, all the lack of recognition, not only about Roberto but about Latin players in general, all the injustices he felt he had to suffer, all those things were finally put to rest with seven days in October," Briles said.

"(After that), I don't think he had the demons he had earlier in his career. (Before), he was still fighting the segregation issue, fighting language and cultural barriers, the small market vs. big market recognition, there were a lot of barriers that he was fighting."

Those barriers were set aside in 1971 and Clemente was a man at peace with himself a year later when he found other people who needed help.

• Clemente, By The Numbers
• .317 Career batting average. Clemente topped .350 three times in era dominated by pitchers.
  
• 5 Times Clemente led the National League in outfield assists.
  
• 12 Gold Glove awards, won consecutively from 1961-72.
  
• 166 Career triples, which ranks second among players who began their career after 1930.
  
• 3,000 Career hits. On the final day of the 1972 season, Clemente became the 11th member of the 3,000-hit club.
  
• Click here for more.

[DJeter1287]

He had an amazing career. Thanks for the link Carissa.

RIP Roberto

[seahorse]

Thanks cd.

[#1PaFan]

Thank you, Source!

He was a big childhood favorite of mine. He continues to be a big alltime favorite of mine. What an incredible ballplayer....

[# 21 Forever]

Thanks Carissa! Even though my whole family has always been huge Yankee fans, Mr. Clemente always was, and always willbe, my dad's favorite player. It broke his heart the day Mr.Clemente died.