Ages of Defiance

Robinson's crusade began in spring training.

"We had an intrasquad game," said former Orioles teammate Jim Palmer, now an Orioles broadcaster, "and we had a young kid named Steve Cosgrove. I mean, electric stuff, he had a curveball, right off the table. So he throws Frank as good a curveball as you can throw, and Frank gets his body out but keeps his bat back and hits a rocket down the left field line and hits the chalk in Miami Stadium, and I turned to [pitcher] Dick Hall and said, 'I think we just won the pennant.' " Robinson played every game the same way, as if there were no next game.

On Opening Day in Boston, he homered, as did Brooks Robinson. In the World Series opener, the two set the tone by hitting back-to-back home runs in the first inning against Don Drysdale.

But neither of those home runs by Frank Robinson was the most memorable he hit that season. That happened May 8, in the first inning of the second game of a Sunday afternoon doubleheader at Memorial Stadium. Cleveland was in town. Luis Tiant was on the mound for the Indians. With one on and one out, Robinson stepped to the plate.

"I had never seen Tiant before," he said. "The first pitch he threw to me was a fastball down and in. I swung, and I knew I hit it good. And it was a home run. I rounded the bases like I usually did -- phew, phew, phew, no fooling around like these players do today -- and went back to the dugout, and the players said, 'That ball went completely out of the ballpark.' I said, 'Oh, bull, get out of here.' I didn't really believe it until I went back out to the outfield at the end of the inning and 49,000 people stood up and gave me an ovation. I said, Wow, I guess it did."

The ball landed in the parking lot beyond the left field stands -- the only ball ever hit out of Memorial Stadium.

"Four hundred and seventy-one [feet]," Robinson said, "but I think it went farther than that."

Similarly, he did the "little things," like sliding hard into middle infielders to break up double plays and always throwing to the correct base from his position in right field. Other players called him their teacher.

"He was a manager on the field," said Elrod Hendricks, Baltimore's bullpen coach and a former teammate of Robinson's. "When he played, the manager's job was cut in half. He never had to discipline any player because Frank took care of that, whether you were a rookie or a veteran. If he thought you weren't giving your all, he'd let you know.

"If you made a mistake on the field, he just chewed you out when he got back to the dugout. It made you angry that one of your teammates was snapping at you. But you look back and say, that was Frank Robinson. If he can't tell you what the heck to do, if he sees something you're not doing, who are you to tell him any different?"

In June 1967, Robinson injured himself doing one of the little things. As a result, he wasn't close to his former self physically until 1969, and had it not been for that one play, he likely would have topped 600 home runs and 3,000 hits for his career. (He had 586 and 2,943.).

Trying to break up a double play against the White Sox, he slid in at second base intending to upend Al Weis. But Robinson missed his target. Instead, Weis's knee struck him in the forehead, knocking him out. Weis also went sprawling. Eventually, the two were helped from the field by teammates, but Robinson would be troubled for some time by double vision.