If you saw Robin Roberts at church, maybe bumped into him at a civic function or witnessed him playing golf at Temple Terrace Golf and Country Club, there never was an outward indication you were in the presence of baseball greatness.
"Robin was very unassuming and he treated everyone with respect,'' said Eddie Cardieri, who was on Roberts' staff at the University of South Florida, then later followed him as USF's head coach. "He was total class. I mean, he could've talked all day about his accomplishments. But he never did.''
It wasn't necessary. The numbers spoke loud enough.
Roberts, the workhorse right-handed pitcher and Baseball Hall of Famer who became one of the beloved players in Philadelphia Phillies' history, died early Thursday morning at his Temple Terrace home. He was 83.
He was best known as leader of the "Whiz Kids,'' the 1950 Phillies team that captured the National League pennant. He played 19 big-league seasons, 14 with the Phillies, and finished with 286 career victories and a lifetime 3.41 ERA. He was a seven-time All-Star.
Although his highest annual salary topped out at $57,500, Roberts was a driving force behind the formation of the Major League Baseball Players Association, helping to hire Marvin Miller as its first executive director in 1966. He was active in various causes, such as the Baseball Assistance Team (BAT), which benefits retired players, and the Tampa-based Gold Shield Foundation, which helps the families of slain police officers and firefighters.
Roberts' son, Jim, said his father's health had deteriorated in recent months. He died of apparent natural causes after spending Wednesday night watching the Phillies, then a late-night West Coast game with the Rays, a team he avidly followed.
Roberts, who attended Michigan State University on a basketball scholarship, is survived by his older brother, John; four sons, Robin Jr., Rick, Dan and Jim; seven grandchildren and one great grandchild. He was preceded in death by his wife, Mary.
The funeral service is at Christ Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, 304 Druid Hills Road in Temple Terrace, Monday night at 6, followed by a reception in the church's fellowship hall. In lieu of flowers, the family requests donations for the Baseball Assistance Team, the Gold Shield Foundation or the church.
"Robin truly loved baseball and had its best interests at heart,'' Baseball Commissioner Bud Selig said in a statement.
Baseball Hall of Fame chairman Jane Forbes Clark said Roberts, who was inducted in 1976, served on the museum's board of directors "with great distinction, thoughtfulness and a fondness for ... preserving the game and its history.''
"This was a special, special man,'' said USF softball coach Ken Eriksen, a former baseball player at the school, who said he signed with the Bulls solely because of Roberts' reputation. "He made a big impact in the Tampa Bay area.''
In Philadelphia, Roberts is regarded as baseball royalty.
His No. 36 jersey, which was retired in 1962 while he was still an active player, will hang in the Phillies' dugout for the remainder of this season as a tribute by the organization. A statue of Roberts is outside Citizen's Bank Park and also Bright House Networks Field, the Phillies' spring-training home in Clearwater.
"He was a breath of fresh air,'' Phillies first baseman Ryan Howard told reporters before Thursday's game against the St. Louis Cardinals. "He was always so nice, so polite. The kind of person who just made you feel warm.''
Several months after his Hall of Fame induction, Roberts agreed to become USF's baseball coach and moved to Temple Terrace. He wasn't sure what to expect. Roberts said USF athletic director Dick Bowers only promised outstanding weather.
On Feb. 16, 1977 - Roberts' second day in Tampa - it snowed.
"That's when I started to get a little apprehensive,'' he once said, laughing.
He was USF's coach for nine seasons, going 262-240-2 from 1977-85 and earning four Coach of the Year honors from the Sun Belt Conference. He also helped USF to its first NCAA Tournament appearance in 1982.
"It was a magical year because we were just a bunch of scrappers who overachieved,'' Eriksen said. "I remember how he almost treated us like professionals and it helped you grow up faster.
"He was fair, but he wasn't equal. If you acted like a professional, you got more (privileges). If you were an immature kid or you didn't take care of your academics, he got rid of you. He was about accountability - on and off the field.''
Area coaches have fond memories of Roberts, in his reflective moods, telling endless baseball stories that held everyone's attention.
"I was just so blessed to learn from him because he was one of the finest men I've met in my life,'' Cardieri said. "Every day was a learning experience. I'd pay money to read a memoir of all his baseball stories because he saw it all, did it all and knew everyone.''
"When he told you a story it was like, 'It was a warm day at Wrigley Field ... Ernie Banks hit this screamer down the third-base line ... you could see the sun starting to set' and you felt like you were there,'' said Coach Jim Macaluso of King High School, which had Roberts playing in its fund-raising golf tournament earlier this spring. "He was good to all of us. He always had time for you.''
Wally Meyer, pastor at Christ Our Redeemer Lutheran Church, said Roberts was "generous, personable and, above all, faithful.'' Meyer remembers displaying his fast-pitch softball skills to Roberts, who caught the pitches. Afterward, Meyer's arm was aching. He wanted to apply ice.
"You know, Satchel Paige told me he used warm water and that worked better,'' Roberts said.
"So I went home and put my arm in a hot shower,'' Meyer said. "What else was I going to do? After all, I had just gotten some baseball advice from the great Robin Roberts.''
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