The Virginian-Pilot
                             THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT 
              Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: Sunday, April 2, 1995                  TAG: 9503310116
SECTION: DAILY BREAK              PAGE: E1   EDITION: FINAL 
SOURCE: LARRY BONKO
                                             LENGTH: Long  :  111 lines

OF BRAVES & BRAVERY HOME RUN KING HANK AARON REFLECTS ON HIS STRUGGLES AND TRIUMPHS AS A TROUBLED BASEBALL SEASON BEGINS

IT'S NO MYSTERY to Hank Aaron why the mother of all baseball strikes has dragged on for all these months, depriving what he calls the game's little people of their incomes.

Baseball's little people include the beer and program vendors, ushers, parking attendants and those who roam the stands selling the munchies that fans sing about.

``Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack. . . .''

First of all, said baseball's most prolific home run hitter and a member of the Hall of Fame since 1982, the strike has lingered like a summer cold because players and management loathe and distrust each other.

Second, Aaron said, the players have fat wallets. They're loaded. This is the era when even utility players who struggle to hit .200 earn millions.

``They have money in the bank,'' said Aaron from Atlanta where he is corporate vice president of community relations for Turner Broadcasting. He is also senior vice president and assistant to the president of the Atlanta Braves.

While playing for the Braves in 1974, Aaron hit his 715th home run off Al Downing of the Los Angeles Dodgers to eclipse Babe Ruth. He finished his career with 755. TBS on April 12 at 8:05 p.m. commemorates the event with the premiere of a documentary, ``Hank Aaron: Chasing the Dream.'' It repeats on April 22 at 4:05 p.m.

This is more than a baseball story. The two-hour documentary revives the bigotry that Aaron faced as a black player from rural Alabama who broke in at a time when bus stations had ``colored'' and ``white'' waiting rooms, when he couldn't share lodgings with his white teammates because of Jim Crow laws.

``At the same time I was being cheered by whites for what I did on the baseball diamond, other whites were keeping black children from attending their schools in Little Rock. What I like best about this documentary is how the producers weave into it the struggle for civil rights.''

Even after Jackie Robinson of the Brooklyn Dodgers broke baseball's color line in 1947, Aaron and the other black players did not see the prejudices melt away. ``Today, if you are a black player who has the talent, you will play. When I came up to the major leagues, there was a quota. You only saw so many black players on the field at the same time.''

And as late as 1974, when Aaron caught and passed Ruth in the record books, the bigotry was deep and wide. In ``Hank Aaron: Chasing the Dream,'' viewers will learn of the death threats and hate mail that kept Aaron and members of his family on edge for months. Some of the mail was signed by ``nigger-hating white American patriots.''

The Braves provided a personal bodyguard for Aaron.

``The threats have fallen off, finally,'' said Aaron, who is 61 now and not quite as toothpick-thin as when he wore No. 44 in Milwaukee and Atlanta.

``This is a different, more enlightened generation.''

While the documentary has plenty to say about Aaron the baseball player - his wrists were a blur when he took a swing, like a whip snapping - the four executive producers including actor Denzel Washington also show Aaron the advocate. He pushed hard for the owners to hire black managers and once campaigned to be baseball's first black commissioner.

There is at last equality on the playing field, but not in the corporate suites, said Aaron. ``There are no black owners, no blacks who hold economic power in baseball. We need to move in that direction.'' In Aaron and Bob Watson, general manager of the Houston Astros, baseball has two high-ranking executives. The president of the National League, Leonard Coleman, is an African-American.

That's a start, said Aaron.

Aaron the baseball executive is also Aaron the former baseball player and member of the players' union who draws a monthly pension in the neighborhood of $6,000. ``I am for the players,'' said a man who twice went on strike when he was in uniform.

In his time, from 1959 through 1962, the players engaged in two All-Star games per season to enrich the pension fund. When there was no cry of ``play ball'' in 1969 and 1972, it was because the players pushed the owners for more pension money.

Today, according to figures released by the baseball commissioner's office in Manhattan, some former players draw $100,000 a year in pension money. That was one battle the players won handily.

The strike of 1972 is a long time and many dollars removed from today, when the negotiators clash over capping players' salaries at $3 million or $4 million a year. ``There are players today who have earned more in three or four seasons than I made in my 23 years in the major leagues,'' said Aaron. His top salary was $200,000.

Question for the baseball trivia nuts: What pitcher gave up the most home runs to Aaron? It was the late Don Drysdale of the Los Angeles Dodgers who surrendered 17 dingers to Aaron.

Because the players of today earn so much, and earn it so quickly, Aaron doubts if even such superstars as Barry Bonds, Ken Griffey Jr. and Frank Thomas will stay around long enough to hit 700-plus homers. ``The players of today have the speed, size and strength to break every record in the book,'' said Aaron. ``The question is, can they stay focused long enough to do it, will they play the game long enough?''

Today's millionaire players seem more interested in reading The Wall Street Journal than the baseball record book, said Aaron. ``Do they have the incentive to play as long as I did? That's the question.''

Will any player ever accomplish what Aaron did on the field - more than 700 home runs, 3,000 hits and 2,200 runs driven in? Or do what he did off the field to help bring equality among the races? His work in that area, dramatized in the TBS documentary, may be a revelation to those who thought of him as just a slugger.

The African-American community in America owes a great debt to Aaron, Barry Bonds says as the documentary ends. Singer Harry Belafonte thinks it might not be a bad idea to have Aaron's face etched on Mount Rushmore.

That would be Aaron wearing a cap with a great big ``A'' on it. ILLUSTRATION: Color photos

TBS

by CNB