Author: David Shama

Killebrew announced in December that he had esophageal cancer.  The five-year survival rate is less than 25 percent.  But Killebrew had been predictably upbeat about his chances and in March even visited the Twins in spring training.

Twins officials had hoped he could travel to Minneapolis to throw out the first pitch for the home opener on April 8.  Instead, Killebrew remained in Arizona to continue treatment.

Those who wanted to see Killebrew and applaud him hoped for that opportunity on June 29, his 75^th birthday.  He was scheduled to be in town for his charity golf event and the Twins are home that day against the Dodgers.  Twins marketing executive Patrick Klinger said in April the club planned to recognize Killebrew on his birthday.

Killebrew won’t stand on the Target Field grass on June 29 and receive a long standing ovation from the fans, but we can cheer for this remarkable man right now who has meant so much to the region and fans across America.  Whether through smiles or tears, his admirers should view his life not with sadness but celebration.

Killebrew came here with the Twins at age 24 after the franchise relocated from Washington, D.C. following the 1960 season.  The Washington Senators had signed him to a $50,000 bonus contract at 17 years old.  He grew up in Idaho as a legendary high school athlete who could have played quarterback in college football.

Baseball rules back then required players who received bonus contracts to play their first two seasons with the major league team.  During his first five years in the major leagues Killebrew played in a total of only 113 games, but in 1959 he had a breakthrough season hitting 42 home runs and driving in 105 runs for the Senators.

He hit over 40 home runs eight times during his major league career that ended in 1974.  His 573 career home runs ranked 11^th on baseball’s all-time list entering this season and he was third among American League players, trailing only Babe Ruth and Alex Rodriguez.

The “Killer” was known not only for his many home runs but the distance he hit them. A stocky 5-11 slugger, he had extraordinary strength, and the tale is he inherited his muscle from a grandfather who reportedly was the strongest man in the Union Army during the Civil War.

Killebrew’s detractors also had a nickname for him, “Harmless.”  The critics complained about his frequent strikeouts and Killebrew did struggle to make contact with the ball.  In 1956 he struck out 39 times in 99 at bats and through much of his career he whiffed about 20 percent of the time.

Leg injuries limited Killebrew’s defensive ability and mobility on the bases.  Originally a third baseman, he also played left field and first base during his career.  But it was Killebrew’s bat that made him special, leading the American League in home runs       six times, helping power the Twins to the 1965 World Series and winning the AL MVP award in 1969.  He was an All-Star game selection 13 times.

He was the face of the franchise in the early years in Minneapolis-St. Paul.  He hosted a pre-game TV show and appeared in local commercials for a men’s store, Foreman & Clark.  Fan mail poured in and Killebrew did his best to cooperate.

In his book Beyond the Sports Huddle, Dave Mona recalled talking to Killebrew as a Minneapolis Tribune sportswriter.  Mona watched Killebrew sign Topps baseball cards and patiently put the cards back in self-addressed envelopes.  “Do you answer every one?” Mona asked.  “I try to,” Killebrew said.  “It may take a while, but I try to get to all of them, especially the ones with return envelopes.”

Killebrew’s life after playing baseball had highs and lows including a divorce from his first wife Elaine and financial problems.  But Killebrew remarried and found happiness with Nita and stayed involved with baseball as a special assistant to the Twins and through charity activities.

The one challenge he couldn’t defeat was cancer, the awful disease that is epidemic in its reach and devastating in results.  Cancer will end his life but not touch the greatness that characterized Killebrew.

As a young reporter I met Killebrew toward the end of his career.  My impression of him is the same today as it was then: Harmon Clayton Killebrew is among the finest human beings I have met in professional sports.  That’s my bias and I am proud to write it.

Pat Cody looked at Bob Klas and said: “You’re out of your mind.”

The two men were partners in Tapemark Company and Klas was thinking about starting a charity golf tournament to benefit organizations helping those with developmental and learning disabilities.  The year was 1972 and after Cody threw out his response, including an expletive or two, the two friends started the Tapemark Charity Pro-Am.

The inspiration for the tournament was Frances Klas, born in 1951 and mentally retarded.  Her dad and mom, Bob and Sandy Klas, learned about organizations available to help children like Frances, and they wanted to help.

And help they did!  Next month will be the 40^th Tapemark and the tournament has raised millions for local charities benefitting the developmental and learning disabled.  Along with a women’s golf tournament and charitable gambling efforts approved by Klas, about $6.7 million has been generated since 1972 to help those charities.

“We have a chance this year to get to $7 million,” said Bob Klas Jr.  “It would be special to make that total on the 40^th year.”

He and his dad remain active with the tournament and continue to be inspired by Frances who passed away in June of 2009.  “I have very fond memories of Frances,” her father said.  “She tried very hard and did a great deal with her limited capabilities.  She was always happy and we miss her very much.”

Frances, who had five siblings including Bob Jr., was married and for 25 years worked in a Hastings hospital.  She proudly wore a button that said: “I am a U.S. taxpayer.”  Each year she would attend the Tapemark tournament and greet spectators and golfers.