Baker keeps ’em laughing at NAACP event
There are plenty of reasons the Astros won their second World Series three months ago. A starting pitching rotation that was the envy of baseball. Clutch performances up and down the lineup. A bullpen that never folded.
Dusty Baker heard another possible driving force that made him chuckle and think bigger. As the guest of honor at a fundraising dinner for the Houston chapter of the NAACP on Wednesday night, Baker was told the Astros won it all because of how much the players believed in their manager.
“Let’s see how much they really believe, let’s win two. How about that?” Baker said. “Then, I’ll really be convinced.”
After spending the morning in West Palm Beach, Fla., as his pitchers and catchers reported to spring training, Baker flew back to Houston for the dinner and held court, entertaining the audience with stories from his childhood all the way through his more than 50 years in professional baseball.
The 73-year-old Baker, who missed Thursday’s Florida workouts with the team, shared a stage with president of the Houston chapter of the NAACP Bishop James Dixon II and former Astros player and current team executive Enos Cabell, but it was Baker who kept the crowd laughing as they filled every seat inside Minute Maid Park’s Diamond Club.
Before the end of their nearly hour-long conversation, Dixon encouraged Baker to join the NAACP.
“I was in the NAACP before you,” Baker shot back. “I was in the junior NAACP. Our house was where they had the meetings at. My mom and dad would have everyone over to the house, and then they started the junior chapter of the NAACP. I was maybe 12 or 13 years old. There was another reason for me to join: There was some pretty girls in there.”
Here are five insightful stories Baker wove into his conversation at Wednesday night’s NAACP dinner ...
His father’s influence
Baker says his mother Christine was all about love and education, while his father Johnnie was the disciplinarian. “I wasn’t afraid of any man alive. I wasn’t scared of cops. I wasn’t scared of anybody, but I was scared of my daddy,” Baker said. “My daddy told me one day, ‘Look, I know you’re not scared of nobody, but if you’re scared of somebody in life, it might as well be me.’ And it was him.”
Baker’s father was a Little League coach in Riverside, Calif., even coaching Bobby Bonds, who was three years older than Dusty. Johnnie Baker was so tough, he cut Dusty from his Little League team three years in a row.
“He cut me when I was 8, 9 and 10, and he gave me the nickname ‘Hard Head,’ because he said I don’t learn too quick,” Baker said. “He said I had a bad attitude, and I’m big now on attitude. He said if I could take that bad attitude and put it in the proper direction, I could be something one day. That’s what got me on the right trail.”
How he got into coaching
When Baker closed out his 19year playing career in 1986, he became a stockbroker. Then, Black Monday — the historic stock market crash of 1987 — hit Wall Street, and Baker decided that line of work might not be for him. San Francisco Giants general manager Al Rosen told Baker he would be interested in him joining the franchise in some capacity, but Baker had no desire to coach. His father told him he should do what he did when he couldn’t decide whether he should sign with the Atlanta Braves as an 18-year-old or go to college: He should pray about it. That decision to sign with the Braves worked out nicely, so Baker did as his father told him, making a trip to Lake Arrowhead, just about an hour away from where he grew up in Southern California, to find some peace and seek guidance on his future.
“I’m checking into the hotel and the owner of the Giants was there, and he tapped me on the shoulder. He said, ‘Dusty, you need to come join us.’ I didn’t see the guy the rest of the weekend. If I had gotten there two minutes later, I would have missed him,” Baker said. “I called my dad and said, ‘What do you think? Was that a sign?’ He said, ‘Boy, you went up there to pray for direction, and He sent the man right to you.’ I didn’t want to see it. That’s not the sign I wanted to see, but that’s what He sent me.
“So, I said, I’ll give this coaching thing five years (to see if I can become manager). It was five years and one day that I was named the manager of the Giants.”
What keeps him going
Baker often has talked about his love for the game and his desire to win a World Series as a manager, which quickly turned into a new goal of winning two World Series titles as soon as he won his first with the Astros last year. Baker is a spiritual man who begins each morning by reading his Bible, and he says Proverbs 13:22 — “A good man leaves an inheritance to his children’s children.” — has given him added motivation to keep pushing.
“I was like, ‘Dang, I’ve got enough for my children, but I’ve got to keep on working because I’ve got to leave something for my children’s children,’ ” Baker said, while laughing.
An eclectic group of friends
Baker can seem like everybody’s friend, especially when he talks about receiving congratulatory texts from Snoop Dogg or once sharing a joint with Jimi Hendrix. He said the key ingredient to any relationship is being open-minded.
“I try not to be judgmental. I try not to choose friends on their economic prowess in life. I’ve got people in my family that’s been to jail. I’ve got people in my family that are missionaries or preachers. I’ve got people in my family that have money and some who have no money, but they’re all my people. They’re all my family,” Baker said. “Sometimes, I’ve got to jack some of them, but they’re still my family ... My homeboys are my homeboys. I’ll give you a chance until you mess up. My dad told me to give people a chance and if they lie to you one time ... it’s hard to come back if you lie to me. I’ll give you a chance. I might even let you think I’m a fool, then let you cut your own throat. You’ve got to give people a chance and sometimes you put your feelings on the line, but that also will bring out the best in people and bring out the best in yourself.”
Meeting your heroes
Baker’s childhood hero was Dodgers’ left fielder Tommy Davis, who played left field and wore No. 12, which is exactly what Baker would go on to do for the same team 10 years after Davis left. When he finally met Davis, Baker was blown away to find out how kind Davis was, which wasn’t the case with every hero Baker met.
“He was one of my heroes and when I met him, he was an even better person than I thought,” Baker said. “There’s been some heroes that I met that I wish I had never met. You hear what I’m talking about? Like, ‘You should have just stayed a hero and I didn’t have to meet you, because it turns out, you are a (jerk).’ ”