El Tiante

The older I get, the more interesting the obituary pages become. Today I read a full-pager in the Times about Luis Tiant. In his prime, he was one of the wiliest pitchers baseball had ever seen. But there was tremendous entertainment value to go with his talented play, and a heartwarming refugee aspect to the lives of himself and his father, who preceded him on the mound.

I saw the younger Cuban-born sensation in person twice. The first time, he was pitching for the Portland Beavers in Civic Stadium. 1981, it must have been. El Tiante, as he was known, was in the twilight of his career at that point, but it was a privilege to enjoy his performance, which was just as colorful as ever. He went back to the major leagues for a couple of seasons after that, and I figured that was the last I'd see him in uniform.

Fast forward a decade and change, and I'm on a summer sightseeing road trip through Montana with my girlfriend. One of the things we liked to do when we hit a town was to take in some minor league baseball. It's low-grade stuff over there: They play a short season, "Class A," and the kids on the field have only a remote chance of making it to the big time. We checked out the Billings Mustangs, the Butte Copper Kings... and then it was a beautiful night in Great Falls, where the Great Falls Dodgers were hosting a rival squad.

I bought a Great Falls Dodger cap on the way into the game. It looked like the major league Dodgers' headgear, except that the L and the A were replaced by a G and an F. Looking around the stands as the sun sank, I noticed that some of the fans were sporting an older version, which looked like the caps worn by the San Francisco Giants. I guess these minor league teams changed hands between the big league organizations on a regular basis.

Anyway, I'm perusing the scorecard, and what to my wondering eyes should appear but the name Luis Tiant as the pitching coach of the Dodgers! I peered down the third base line to the bullpen, and sure enough, seated there against the fence with the relief pitchers was the man himself. I couldn't believe my eyes. What in the world was he doing there?

Somewhere I have a photo of that bullpen crew, but I don't need to dig it out to remember every detail. It was a magical night for a lot of reasons, but seeing Luis again was certainly one of them.

The obituaries all note that Tiant is not in the baseball Hall of Fame. He was bitter about that, but hey, his omission says a lot more about the poor judgment of halls of fame than it does about somebody like Luis. He was a true legend who will never be forgotten by those of us who caught his act.