Several years ago my ex-girlfriend (who at that time wasn’t sporting the “ex” prefix) asked me who I thought was the greatest ballplayer of all time.
No great sports fan herself, it came as no surprise when, in response to my answer, she raised her eyebrows and said, “Ty Cobb? Never heard of him.”
I told her that was because Cobb had started his illustrious career before my father was born─ my father was eight years old when Cobb hung up his spikes for the last time.
“How can you consider him the greatest of all time if you’ve never seen him play?” she asked.
“Well,” I said, “You didn’t ask me who was the greatest ballplayer I’ve ever seen. That would be Kaline─the last Tiger elected to the Hall of Fame and the first to have his number retired.”
“If Cobb was so great, why didn’t he have his number retired?”
“Players didn’t wear numbers in Cobb’s time.”
“Oh. So what makes him the greatest?”
“Well,” I said, “for starters, he set no fewer than ninety major league records, several still stand today, including highest career batting average (.367) and most batting titles (eleven, nine of them consecutively). Those two records alone will likely never be bested. He stole home fifty-four times, and four times, after reaching first base, he stole second, third and home on successive attempts, often after telling the battery of his intention.





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