A logjam of kids swelled behind the first-base dugout in Riverfront Stadium.
As my wife and I watched, our two sons blended into that sea of sweaty, eager youngsters in the summer of ’95. Most of them clutched baseballs, mitts, game programs and other autograph-worthy objects. Across the wall stood several Cincinnati Reds players, casually stretching and cutting up. The Red who mattered most to my 7-year-old was shortstop Barry Larkin.
On this day, though, the signing ritual was cut short. The players abruptly returned to the dugout, and many of the kids turned around with glum faces and trudged back up the aisle through the box-seat section. Our oldest son — an avid fan — climbed the steps without a Barry Larkin signature, a bit disappointed but nonetheless anxious to take in the actual ball game. We were glad to see him still smiling. What we didn’t see was his carefree, 5-year-old kid brother and ever-present sidekick.
“Where is he?” we asked in panic.
“On the field,” our 7-year-old answered, matter-of-factly.
What?
Sure enough, we looked up and saw our 5-year-old sprinting into center field alongside a couple dozen other kids. In those days, Marge Schott — the Reds’ crusty, eccentric owner — occasionally let a few randomly selected children run through the outfield before the opening pitch. As the lucky, chosen ones were steered back to the first-base gate, the Reds players began emerging from the dugout. Our boy strolled right past Larkin and the other Reds, grinning yet oblivious to the rarity of his opportunity, while his big brother could only watch in awe.
Our sons, and later their little sister, spent many weekend, family getaways in the seats of Riverfront Stadium and its successor, Great American Ballpark. (The Queen City is part of their lineage; my parents grew up a half-hour away in Aurora, Ind.) Many of our fondest baseball memories surrounded Larkin. As babies, the boys sat on our laps in 1990, when Larkin and the Reds stayed in first place all season and then swept the heavily favored Oakland A’s in the World Series.
The next June, we saw Larkin hit the first two of five homers in a two-game span — a feat no other major-league shortstop had accomplished. In 1995, he played well enough to earn the National League Most Valuable Player Award. Even as the Reds struggled in later years before Larkin retired in 2004, he stood out.
Countless times, we watched Larkin snare scorching grounders, throw out baserunners from deep in the second-base hole, masterfully execute hit-and-run plays, and inspire his fellow Reds with class and dignity. Fittingly, Larkin delivered on that missed autograph, too, promptly responding to a mailed request by sending our oldest a signed game-action photo.
The picture still hangs in my son’s room, though he’s grown up and on his own now, working and seeing the world. He didn’t forget the message Larkin wrote on the photograph — “Study hard, play hard.” As a strong high school wrestler and a Purdue graduate, he fulfilled both pieces of advice.
Most of all, Larkin gave our kids and thousands of others little reason to later regret having called him their favorite Reds player. As former Cincinnati manager Lou Piniella told mlb.com on Monday, “He’s an outstanding individual, both on and off the field.” That statement can’t always be uttered truthfully about players being considered for Baseball Hall of Fame induction. During the next several years, the ballots will include the names of record-setting players who, unlike Larkin, were known or suspected steroid users. This week, former teammates, managers, executives and fans gushed words similar to Piniella’s when the announcement came that Larkin would be enshrined at Cooperstown, N.Y.
They also raved about his skills, reflected through statistics — the first shortstop with 30 homers and 30 stolen bases in a season, a .338 postseason batting average, 198 career home runs, 2,340 hits, three Gold Gloves and nine Silver Slugger awards. Larkin lived up to his label as “quiet leader” of the Reds in other ways, too. He studied Spanish to communicate better with his Latin American teammates. Having left the University of Michigan after being drafted by Cincinnati following his junior year, Larkin later finished his final year of college and earned his degree, fulfilling a promise to his mother and grandmother. He even offered to buy natural grass turf to replace the hard AstroTurf at old Riverfront Stadium, hoping to preserve his aging knees and those of the other Reds.
And, he played all 19 of his big-league seasons in Cincinnati, his hometown. Larkin never abandoned the small, Midwestern city where he played Little League baseball and high school football at Cincinnati Moeller. He never embarrassed the Reds, the club he grew up watching in their “Big Red Machine” heyday of the 1970s. Through some rough, tumultuous Reds seasons of his own, Larkin kept his loyalty and character.
After Larkin got the call from Cooperstown on Monday, Cincinnati Enquirer columnist Paul Daugherty asked him, “When you are telling your children about your career, what do you want them to know most?”
“Humility, in everything and anything I do,” Larkin answered.
People who practice that virtue, by definition, don’t bring attention to themselves. Thus, they silently may wonder if anybody on earth even notices. I can only speak for one household in Indiana, but rest assured, Barry Larkin, your integrity is not forgotten.
Mark Bennett can be reached at (812) 231-4377 or mark.bennett@tribstar.com.
News Columns
MARK BENNETT: Hall-of-Famer Larkin delivered more than clutch hits
- News Columns
-
-
MIKE LUNSFORD: Remembering Mom a day after Mother’s Day
I don’t think there has been a day in the last eight years that I haven’t thought of my mom. Being all grown up with wrinkles to call my own doesn’t make me miss my parents any less.
-
MARK BENNETT: After running for 28 hours straight, what’s another 5 miles?
Some phrases can only be uttered by a few people, or none at all.
-
MARK BENNETT: Glitches show limitations of high-stakes testing concept
The dog ate my homework. That age-old excuse — based on a shockingly unforeseen complication — rarely works for a kid who didn’t finish yesterday’s math assignment. Yet, in a role reversal, Indiana school children, along with their teachers and administrators, are left to accept an explanation for a disruption best described as the mother of all ironies.
-
MARK BENNETT: One step at a time to save lives
Joan Brown.
Remember that name. -
MARK BENNETT: Sometimes, the mere posing of questions is significant
The era seems quaint now, almost like a fable. When people left their house doors unlocked. When the sight of a police officer in a school meant it was Career Day.
-
MIKE LUNSFORD: ‘Dowsers’ provide hope more than science
My grandfather was a man of God. Many times I saw him, his right hand held high in the air at his Wednesday night “prayer meeting,” praising the Lord before weeping at the altar on his knees. And yet, he was a “dowser,” a “diviner,” a “witcher” who, as a favor, would grab a forked sassafras stick and find water for some poor unfortunate whose well had gone dry.
-
MARK BENNETT: New reality steers Nashville singer to Crossroads for Historical Society concert
People pass through the Crossroads of America for lots of reasons.
Business trips. College campus events. Federal prison sentences. Visits with relatives. Gas pitstops.
Or maybe a career change and a twist of fate.
Ty Brown makes his first stop in downtown Terre Haute as the headliner of a multi-band Sweet Sensations Country Jam concert May 4 in the Ohio Building — a fundraiser for the Vigo County Historical Society. -
HAYDEN: 9-year-old lobbyist weighs in on school safety
Senate Bill 1 shot to the forefront last week, after it was amended by the House education committee with a provision that mandates every public school in Indiana would be required to have someone on staff armed with a loaded gun during school hours.
-
HAYDEN: Republican shift proving to be real
When a federal judge struck down key provisions of the state’s immigration law last week, it seemed anticlimactic.
-
LUNSFORD: A different kind of resurrection story, no foolin’
If you’ve had pets in your family long enough, it’s likely that you’ll see a miracle or two — a dog that couldn’t possibly have lived, but did; a cat that grew to 20 pounds after being born the runt of the litter; a goldfish that had been belly-up too many times to believe it could have survived another day.
-
STATE OF THE STATEHOUSE: Americans of Hispanic heritage becoming active in Republican party
When Republicans in the Indiana General Assembly decided earlier this year to put off a vote on locking the state’s same-sex marriage ban into the state constitution, it sent a signal that GOP leaders were evolving on the issue of marriage equality.
-
MARK BENNETT: Terre Haute barber ‘sharpens up’ customers for 50 years
People streamed through this section of downtown Terre Haute in those days.
“You could hardly walk by here,” John Hochhalter said, pointing toward the sidewalk outside the window.
The bustle has faded since the early 1960s. Hochhalter remains. He’s still barbering in the same shop he and late business partner Kenny Thomas opened a half-century ago this week. -
MIKE LUNSFORD: As of today, it’s unofficially spring
Despite the calendar telling us not to rush things, I think it is all right to go ahead and say spring is here. The Ides of March has passed, Easter is coming soon, and I have already been out in my yard with a rake, getting my boots muddy. It looks like spring to me.
-
Americans for Prosperity aim to browbeat GOP lawmakers
If you're outside the Indianapolis TV market, you may not have seen yet the Americans for Prosperity ad that demonizes the House Republicans for resisting Republican Gov. Mike Pence's tax cut plan.
-
MAUREEN HAYDEN: Pence may find himself in a mess if he gets what he wants
Here’s a story to consider: A Republican governor with ties to the tea party and possible presidential ambitions decides he wants to slash the state’s income tax rate, but meets with massive resistance from legislative leaders from his own party.
Sounds like the scenario playing out in the Indiana Statehouse, right? -
MARK BENNETT: Reflections of grid success stir with Brent Anderson’s passing
A few hundred miles away, and nearly 40 years gone by, a special game ball still occupies a fond place in Rudy Bohinc’s memories.
-
MIKE LUNSFORD: If handwriting is a window to my soul, I’m glad this is typewritten…
Somewhere in the mess I call my “archives,” I have most of my grade school report cards hidden away. I have kept them under wraps, because I want to be long gone when my children — or grandchildren — unearth them and discover that their self-righteous teacher of a dad was, in fact, a terrible student in his formative years.
-
MAUREEN HAYDEN: Are legislators gambling with the future of gaming?
Indiana lawmakers have been debating whether to give the state’s casinos more financial incentives to compete with the shiny new gambling palaces popping up in Ohio.
-
MARK BENNETT: Never truer: Knowledge vital to narrowing ‘skills gap’
The pillar at the gates of Faber College in the movie “Animal House” bore a wise motto, despite its tongue-in-cheek intent …
-
STATE OF THE STATEHOUSE: Pot decriminalization bill dead, but reduced-punishment aspect still alive
In the flurry of activity at the Statehouse in recent weeks, I missed reporting some sad news for stoners: The legislation to decriminalize marijuana is dead.
-
MARK BENNETT: Great-niece to re-enact Paul Dresser’s musical legacy in Terre Haute show
People can be forgotten. Their lives end, time passes and memories fade.
Often, the only keepers of their legacies are family and friends, who tell and retell their stories, generation to generation.
For Paul Dresser, his fame burned strong enough as a turn-of-the-century, million-seller songwriter to preserve bits of his public notoriety. -
MIKE LUNSFORD: The ‘lovely gift’ of a beech tree …
This is not the season that I usually write of trees, for besides a few pin oaks that hang on to the most stubborn of leaves, my woods stand bare and dormant and cold right now. My trees are patiently awaiting the green of spring that I feel, for some reason, is to arrive a little earlier this year than is usual.
-
STATE OF THE STATEHOUSE: What to do with that $2 billion sitting around
We Hoosiers like to think of ourselves as special, but when it comes to the current debate in the Indiana Statehouse over the budget, we’re a lot like other states: Grappling with some post-recession questions about how to balance spending and taxes.
-
MARK BENNETT: An Olympic takedown
Imagine an iconic image of American sports history erased.
-
STATE OF THE STATEHOUSE: Pence sticks to his ‘Roadmap’
As a U.S. congressman, Mike Pence made it perfectly clear how he felt about the need for a constitutional amendment to ban same-sex marriage.
-
MARK BENNETT: Indiana’s ‘skills gap’
A problem lasting decades ceases to be a “problem.” By then, the situation becomes “part of the culture.”
-
MIKE LUNSFORD: Twain’s Sawyer helps us yearn for ‘wilderness of childhood’
My cousin, Roger, stopped in one day last summer for a glass of tea and a little conversation. Rog has lived an hour’s drive away for years and now, and besides summer reunions, I don’t see him nearly often enough. He’s a good man who has raised a good family, and he owns a healthy sense of appreciation for not only the life he has now, but also the lives we had years ago as kids.
-
STATE OF THE STATEHOUSE:Supreme Court providing convenient cover for GOP
If GOP leaders in the Indiana General Assembly announce this week, as expected, that they’re postponing a vote on a constitutional ban on same-sex marriages and civil unions, you can expect them to cite the U.S. Supreme Court’s decision to step into the larger issue later this year as the primary reason.
-
MARK BENNETT: America’s best quality of life? Indiana must address flaws, set priorities
Just as the job interview seems smooth, the interviewer drops the question.
“So, where do you see yourself in five years?” -
MARK BENNETT: Pondering what is meant by ‘quality of life’ to Hoosiers
Sometimes it’s sincere. Other times, it’s sarcasm.
You cross paths with a friend, ask how they’re doing, and they say, “Ah, just livin’ the dream.”
Livin’ the dream. What exactly does that involve? Can it be defined? - More News Columns Headlines
-
MIKE LUNSFORD: Remembering Mom a day after Mother’s Day




