The Baltimore legend who set the standard at third base
Brooks Robinson 1937–2023
One of the most beloved athletes in Baltimore history, Brooks Robinson was also one of the greatest third basemen ever to patrol the hot corner. Over a Major League career spanning 1955 to 1977, all with the Baltimore Orioles, Robinson was an 18-time All-Star and won the Gold Glove award as the top fielder at his position an unprecedented 16 straight years. His often miraculous defense led the Orioles to championships in 1966 and 1970. Against Cincinnati’s menacing “Big Red Machine” in the 1970 World Series, Robinson earned his nickname “the human vacuum cleaner,” robbing opponents of an improbable number of would-be hits while slugging two home runs and batting .429. “I’m beginning to see Brooks in my sleep,” Reds manager Sparky Anderson said afterward. “If I dropped this paper plate, he’d pick it up on one hop and throw me out at first.”
Robinson was born in Little Rock, Ark., to a fireman father and a mother who worked for state government, said The New York Times. He grew up a batboy on his father’s semipro ballclub and soon signed with the Orioles, who had recently relocated from St. Louis, after being told that Baltimore offered him the fastest path to the big leagues, said The Wall Street Journal. He made the majors in 1955, at age 18. Robinson was uncanny at diving for balls ripped down the line or grabbing bunts barehanded before whipping a throw across the diamond. “I wasn’t fast, and I didn’t have a great arm,” he said, “yet I compensated by quickly getting my feet in position to throw and getting rid of the ball quicker than anyone else.”
The American League’s 1964 Most Valuable Player had several fellow future Hall of Famers as teammates, said The Washington Post. Frank Robinson (no relation) joined the team in 1966, and Brooks Robinson “embraced” the Black slugger from the start, saying he was “exactly what we need.” Pitcher Jim Palmer liked to rib Robinson about being extraordinarily gracious with fans. Robinson kept a felt-tipped marker in his coat in case someone presented him with a ball, and Norman Rockwell painted him signing a baseball for a young fan. Palmer said he told Robinson, “Every ball I’m asked to sign already has your autograph on it. Please, learn to write smaller.”