Remembering Don Richard Ashburn, born on this date (1927) in Tilden, NE

Playing left field, Richie made his major league debut on April 20, 1948, against the Chicago Cubs at Shibe Park. Forty years later we honored him pre-game at Veterans Stadium on the anniversary of his first game. I wrote a column back then, “The Baron’s Corner”. Pardon the moth balls aroma.

“As a kid in Tilden, Nebraska, there wasn’t much to do but play sports. I loved to run, and I could run like a deer. My twin sister, Donna, was the only person who could give me a run for the money. We used to run races in county fairs for prize money. Either she or I would win.”

“The first big league game I ever saw, I played in, against the Boston Braves at Shibe Park (1948). My first major league hit was a single off Johnny Sain.”

“My active career ended in an unusual manner. I was the third out of a triple play which ended the Mets’ first season, 1962 in Chicago. Casey Stengel, our manager, wanted us to feel better, I guess, and he said, ‘Fellas I don’t want you to feel too bad about this. This has been a team effort. No one or two players could have done this.’ I didn’t know if he was talking about the triple play or our 120 losses.”

“Robin Roberts was my first roommate at the old Phoenix Hotel in Clearwater, spring training of 1948, my first spring training. I had a lot of roommates along the way…Putsy Caballero, Ron Northey (when he snored, the room shook), Granny Hamner, Don Zimmer (with the Cubs) and Frank Thomas (with the Mets).”

“The schedule was different when I played. Monday and Thursday were travel days. We played doubleheaders almost every Sunday afternoon. Why one year, I played in 35 doubleheaders.”

“We’d travel by train. I loved it, great times. We had our own car and dining room. Cooking was elegant. The team lived together, played cards, talked a lot of baseball. Very relaxed.”

“You know the Phillies gave me a night before. In the late 1950s. They took my Cadillac away from me and gave me a new one. Turned out to be a lemon. That winter I was in Mobridge, South Dakota. It stopped dead. Last time I saw it.”

“That wasn’t the end. That winter I got a notice from the IRS that I owed $2,800 in taxes on the car which was given to me as a gift. So, do me a favor, don’t give me a car.”

For the record, he didn’t get one.

(Larry Shenk)