Come to Think of it...What We Learned from 'the Dean'

Longtime newspaperman, sportswriter and baseball historian Jerome Holtzman died Saturday.  He was 81.

But that is just a name, just a number. For 'the Dean', as he was known, was much more than that.

Raised in an orphanage, he started his career as a copy boy in the sports department at the Times at the age of 17 in 1943. After serving in WWII, and spending time on the high school beat, Holtzman moved permanently onto the baseball beat in 1957 at the Chicago Sun-Times.

He spent over 40 years chronicling the Chicago Cubs and White Sox. Considering they never won a title in all those years, he should be granted immediate occupancy at the pearly gates just for that alone

Times were different then. Sportswriters often travelled with the team.  They got to know secrets about players that forced them to walk a fine line when reporting.

Imagine today's writers knowing the gambling and drinking habits of a star ballplayer. And even who he was sleeping with on the road. Yep, those days are over.

He was a tough SOB. He wouldn't back down from anyone, including editors. He could even be acerbic at times, testy.

Yet Holtzman always got the scoop.

It was because of his dedication, knowledge and respect for fairness that ballplayers and front office personnel alike were never afraid to give him the scoop.  They knew he would do the right thing and report it correctly.

Holtzman was responsible for the institution of the "save" rule for relief pitchers.  It was the first official statistical change for major league baseball since the inclusion of the RBI in 1920.

He was an influential leader with the Baseball Writers Association of America and a longtime member of the Hall of Fame Veterans Committee, which voted on candidates overlooked in voting by the baseball writers.

Holtzman authored six books, including the classic "No Cheering From the Press Box," an oral history of baseball as recounted by 24 sportswriting legends.

After he retired as the baseball columnist for the Tribune in 1998, Bud Selig hired Holtzman as baseball's official historian.

Yet it was the trust he gained from people and the friendship that stood out from those who knew him.

He was also ahead of his time in race relations.

He befriended a young, pioneer sportswriter in the African American community by the name of Wendell Smith. Holtzman was very influential in getting Smith enshrined into Cooperstown in 1993. 

So the game changes.  Yes, the game of baseball and the game of sportswriting. But mutual respect and mutual trust, for which Holtzman was well known, isn't a game. It's a virtue we either choose to live by or not. He did and many are grateful for it.

He eschewed the spotlight. Never one for self promotion, he let his words speak for themselves. And they spoke mighty loud, I might add.

Sportswriters like him are now few and far between. You look up the definition of "old-school" in the dictionary, and I swear you might find his picture.

A true original who loved baseball, Jerome Holtzman taught us much about hard work, dedication, trust, friendship and respect. And those things never grow out of style.

Come to think of it, not bad for an orphan.

RIP, Dean.