An Innocent Abroad On The Baseball Diamonds

The first time I spoke to Ernie Banks , the greatest shortstop ever to play first base for the Cubs, he was sitting in the Cub dugout balancing a baseball on the toes of his shoes. As I passed by I asked him if he was readying an act for The Ed Sullivan Show. He took the ball off his shoe, stood up and held out his hand.

"How do you do?" he said. And he seemed so sincere that I'd like to have taken back the wisecrack about the Sullivan show. I told him I hadn't meant to sound smart-alecky about the ball on his shoe. Actually it was something of an accomplishment.

"Well, it looks silly," he said. "But an ophthalmologist in Chicago told me I ought to do it."

The previous year he had had some trouble with his depth perception, and he had worked hard to correct it. Mostly he had worked with elaborate viewing devices. But the ophthalmologist told him focusing on the baseball as he moved his foot up and down would be a good thing to do, just passing the time.

During my month with the Cubs I got to know Banks well. One day he took my 2�-year-old into the dugout and sat him on his lap while he explained baseball to him and I took pictures.

Here are some things that seemed interesting about Banks. He's the only baseball player I heard hum along with The Star-Spangled Banner. In contrast to most others, he actually seemed to enjoy it before every game.

Another thing—after the game, all the Cubs beat it for the locker room as fast as they can. All except Banks. He feels he needs extra practice.

I snapped a picture of him once, all alone in the dugout, waiting for the crowd to file out above him. Then he got a coach to knock balls to him almost until dark.

It struck me as funny that Banks would be the one Cub to stay for extra practice, when actually he should have been the only one allowed to go home. But thinking about it, maybe that's why he is who he is—and they are who they are (or aren't).

WILLIE MAYS