Stan Musial and Democratic Engagement

Stan Musial recently died at the age of 92, one of the greatest and most admired baseball players of the 20th century, and someone whose athletic prowess I have been aware of since I turned 8, about 54 years ago. Admittedly, his greatest years preceded my direct knowledge of him, though even in 1958, when he had reached the relatively advanced baseball age of 37, he was still able to hit .337. But what does he and his legacy as the greatest of all St. Louis Cardinals have to do with democratic engagement?

Well, first of all, let's get the basics out of the way. For most of his career, he was a model of consistency. His .331 lifetime average is an indication of this. His career totals for hits, doubles, triples, runs, RBIs, and even home runs (a surprising 475) still place him near the top of almost every hitting category there is.  He rarely struck out. He got on base with great proficiency and his lifetime slugging percentage was higher than Mays, Mantle, or Aaron. He was a solid fielder, a cunning baserunner, and, remarkably, never got himself thrown out of a game for bad behavior. St. Louis's love affair with him continued well after his retirement and although his glory has faded a bit, those who know baseball have always known that very few were his equal as a player.

So what's the point of bringing him up here? He wasn't only a superb baseball player, he was a superb competitor, too, and it's not too much of a stretch to say he was a fine human being as well. He cared about winning and he would do everything he could to defeat the opposition, but there is no report of him throwing a chair across the room or kicking a water cooler when he struck out or made an error, and his conduct toward opposing players was unfailingly courteous and even appreciative. He loved the game and knew how important it was to play it well especially for his hometown boosters. But he also knew it was only a game and that there were other things that mattered far more. In other words, he was a mature, respectful, mild-mannered adult who also happened to be a world class athlete.

Many readers have heard that old Jacques Barzun quote "Whoever wants to know the heart and mind of America had better learn baseball." I have never been confident about the full meaning of Barzun's statement, but I have always assumed that Barzun, in part, meant that baseball is the perfect blend of the individualistic and the collective, of the single person who goes in and out of the spotlight and who the rest of the time quietly does what he can to add to his team's advantage. We love the man at bat, dueling with the opposing team's hurler, especially when the game is on the line. Everything depends on that one batter. But we also love the player who backs up the throw from the outfield or tries to go from first to third on a single or executes the perfect sacrifice bunt to put his teammate into scoring position. This is the person who does the everyday things that don't get noticed much, but can make a big difference in determining the outcome. 

That's the kind of player and person Stan Musial was. Dependable in the clutch when everything depended on him, but also willing to do a hundred other things that rarely got noticed to help his team prevail. And that I would argue is what everyday citizens and activists do as well. Occasionally, they will make a speech or publish an article that puts them in the spotlight, but their biggest contribution is in the dozens of quiet and necessary chores they perform everyday for which they receive no credit or recognition. In a sense, these are the two sides of the leader/follower dynamic of any community-engaged individual. Sometimes leading in a way that may attract considerable attention, but far more often following the lead of others, doing the work that needs to get done to further the public good.

It turns out that in many ways that is the kind of citizen Stan Musial was as well. But suffice it to say he will be missed, in part for his amazing and noteworthy accomplishments, but probably just as much for being the kind of person he was, kind, considerate, willing to go the extra mile to help others. Now that's a legacy especially worth celebrating.