Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: SUNDAY, March 1, 1992                   TAG: 9203010254
SECTION: HORIZON                    PAGE: E-5   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: JOE KENNEDY
DATELINE:                                 LENGTH: Short

HE COULD HAVE REIGNED AS KING OF BASEBALL

I liked the way he pounded on the piano and kicked the bench out behind him when he got going good.

Elvis was OK, though. Anybody who made adults that nervous had to be doing something right.

I liked him enough that when this newspaper carried a gossipy piece by the Washington Post's Sally Quinn saying that Elvis had gotten fat, sick and strange, I was appalled. I thought it irreverent and unfair.

But then he died, mysteriously. I got the word while driving to Northern Virginia to pick up a friend for an Orioles game in Baltimore. My friend, who used to play the trumpet in a beach band, was shocked.

His friends, who joined us at the game, hadn't heard the news. When we told them, they refused to believe us. Adamantly refused. Said it couldn't be so. Then they heard other people talking about it, and they shut up. It really glummed them out.

The evening was cool and pleasant, uncharacteristic for Baltimore. But there was a solemn undercurrent to it. I kept wondering why they didn't put Elvis's death on the stadium's message board, or make an announcement, at least.

That was before big-league baseball jumped into the media and promotions mainstream.

If The King were alive today, they'd invite him to the All Star Game, ask him to sing the anthem and get him to throw out the first ball.

It would beat the hell out of being on a stamp, as he'd be the first to agree.