For one, the tool of choice was a bat. For the other, a stick.
Tony Gwynn and Jean Beliveau died this year, unparalleled craftsmen who made the supremely difficult look almost easy.
They played with elegance and grace, ambassadors for baseball and hockey. They were enduring landmarks in their cities — Gwynn in San Diego, Beliveau in Montreal. They were sports royalty, yet never lost the common touch.
Los Angeles Dodgers broadcaster Vin Scully called Gwynn a “genius with the bat.” Who could doubt that? With a left-handed swing as fluid as any in baseball, Gwynn owned the real estate between shortstop and third base, unerringly slashing singles through the left side.
He won eight batting titles and finished with a .338 career average, rarely striking out. He did not hit below .309 in a full season. He played in two World Series, and hit .371 while he was there. In 1994, he neared baseball’s Holy Grail of .400, only to be stopped by a players strike and ending at .394. By the time he quit in 2001, he had 3,141 hits.
Gwynn spent all of his 20 seasons in San Diego, where he was “Mr. Padre,” his diligence and study of baseball unsurpassed. He happily talked at length to rookies about the art of hitting, his laughter cackling across the seasons. He died at 54, and believed his years chewing tobacco had much to do with his oral cancer.
“The greatest Padre ever,” MLB commissioner Bud Selig said, “and one of the most accomplished hitters that our game has known.”
Beliveau, like Gwynn, played all 20 seasons for one team. He might have been the most revered of all the Canadiens, and in Montreal that is no small thing.
As Gwynn had great vision on the diamond, so it was with Beliveau on the ice. He combined strength and delicacy at center — and for a stretch in the mid-1950s he led Montreal to five straight NHL titles, the bedrock of a dynasty.
He finished with 507 goals when he retired in 1971. A year later, the normal wait dispensed with, he entered the Hockey Hall of Fame. He won 10 Stanley Cups and was twice the MVP. There were seven other titles as a Canadiens executive.
“It was such a pleasure to watch him play and handle the puck,” teammate Donnie Marshall said. “He was so graceful on the ice.”
Beliveau, Montreal’s captain, was the quintessential gentleman. He died at 83 and his funeral had the trappings of a state affair. Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper was on hand. Quebec Premier Philippe Couillard said Beliveau was the “image of what we would like ourselves to be.”
Other deaths this year, lives that truly illuminated sports:
Rubin “Hurricane” Carter, 76: He never was a champion, but he could throw hurricane waves of punches. And his shaved head — not quite the fashion statement then — lent an unmistakable air of menace, as did a criminal past before his turn to boxing. In 1963, he stopped Emile Griffith in the first round and a middleweight title seemed within reach. Then came his murder conviction for three deaths in 1966 in a New Jersey bar. He was convicted again in 1976 and freed in 1985, the judge saying the case had been “predicated upon an appeal to racism rather than reason.” He spent 19 years in prison, a symbol of justice denied and the law’s delay.
Ralph Kiner, 91: Generations of fans came and went who knew of Kiner only from the broadcast booth. He was the announcer who was there right from the start with the New York Mets, stayed in living rooms for half a century and sometimes confronted the English language like an infielder flailing at a windblown pop. But, boy, could this guy hit. He joined the Pittsburgh Pirates after World II and finished with 369 homers, sixth in baseball history when he retired. In his first seven seasons, he won or tied for the National League lead in home runs.
Chuck Noll, 82: He won a record four Super Bowls and reshaped the Pittsburgh Steelers from woebegone franchise to one as durable and unyielding as its nickname would suggest. He coached for 23 seasons; until he came aboard, the Steelers had never won a playoff game. But in the 1970s, no one was like them. He went 16-8 in the playoffs. The “Steel Curtain” and the “Immaculate Reception” came on his watch.
Jack Ramsay, 89: He was called Dr. Jack, a salute to his doctorate in education from Penn. He also was the consummate student and instructor of basketball. He cut his teeth in coaching at Saint Joseph’s, then had NBA stints with Philadelphia and Buffalo before landing with Portland. His championship season was 1976-77, his first year with the Trail Blazers. Bill Walton and Maurice Lucas were Ramsay’s pillars with Portland. He coached for 21 seasons, never reaching the NBA summit again. He brought his coaching savvy to broadcasting, where he also starred.
Ralph Wilson, 95: The original owner of the Buffalo Bills was ridiculed for buying a franchise in the American Football League, which began play in 1960. He became a cornerstone of the modern NFL. The Bills won two AFL titles in the 1960s and advanced to four consecutive Super Bowls in the 1990s. Wilson was the last surviving AFL founder. “He meant so much to the game,” former Bills coach Marv Levy said, “and to the community of Buffalo.”
