June 24, 2021

The Baseball 100: No. 73, Brooks Robinson (The Athletic)

Starting in December and ending on Opening Day, we at The Athletic will count down the 100 greatest baseball players by publishing an essay on a player every day for 100 days. In all, this project will contain roughly as many words as “Moby Dick.” Yes, we know it’s nutty. We hope you enjoy. 

Forgive me for going back in time for a moment, but Brooks Robinson demands it: I’m 10 years old and in the Cleveland backyard behind the tiny house my parents scrounged and saved to buy. A telephone wire sags above the yard — the lowest point of the wire is just high enough that we can’t quite jump up and touch it, though we try. There’s a round hole of dirt that’s not covered in grass, left over from our ill-fated attempt to dig a hole to China, a perfect tree for climbing and a screened-in back porch with the screens torn and dangling. A rotted picnic table has been pushed out of the way. All around us is a chain-link fence that can be scaled…

Read “The Baseball 100: No. 73, Brooks Robinson” at The Athletic