With all the hate and division and violence in this world, I wanted to share the story of a man who saw and lived through all kinds of discrimination and injustice but decided to live a life of gratitude and love.

I’ve been fortunate to have met so many unforgettable people in sports in my career. I knew…

Ali.

Wilt.

Ted Williams.

Billie Jean King.

Arthur Ashe.

Charles Barkley.

So many people.

They were large figures. Fun to be around . Accomplished and colorful.

But in my time, the wisest, kindest, and gentlest soul I ever knew was John Jordan O’Neil. “Buck” O’Neil.

There’s a good chance you never heard of Buck unless you are a close follower of baseball. You should look him up…. “Google” him.

Nah, I’ll save you some time.

Buck O’Neil played, coached, and scouted baseball for six decades, mostly in the Negro Leagues. He played for the Kansas City Monarchs, and saw and competed against players like Jackie Robinson, Satchel Page, Josh Gibson, and in the early careers of Hank Aaron and Willie Mays.

Buck was a fairly talented player, certainly worthy of being signed by the major leagues, but when the color line was broken in baseball…Jackie was signed, then Larry Doby, and Hank and Willie and dozens of others. Buck never got the call up to play in Major League Baseball. He eventually became a scout for the Chicago Cubs, and he signed Lou Brock and Ernie Banks .

Buck was born in 1911 and grew up in the Jim Crow South…working long, steaming hot days in the celery fields in Florida. He experienced deep prejudice and segregation. He saw lynchings and the Klan.

There were few “colored” schools in Florida in his time, but Buck was able to graduate high school and even had two years of college.

Baseball was his life. His true education.

“Cool” Papa Bell, one of the Negro League greats, signed Buck to a Negro League contract, and though Buck had a nice career, he was denied a chance to play in the “Big Leagues.”

You may have seen “Buck” in the Ken Burns documentary “Baseball” talking about the hardships and, yes, the fun times he had in the Negro Leagues.

This man didn’t have an ounce of bitterness or resentment in his soul, though he had a right to feel that way. Talking to “Buck” O’Neil was like talking to a wise sage, a human historian, teacher, minister, and storyteller. When he spoke, you listened. Because what he said about injustice and intolerance came from a place of wisdom, insight, and sageness.

He talked about forgiveness too.

He said he didn’t even hate Ty Cobb, one of baseball’s most virulent racists.

“How much pain that man must’ve been in to ‘hug’ hate. To hate anyone because of their skin color. Man, I actually feel sorrow for him” Buck said.

O’Neil was a good-natured man. That was his way… for all he endured, he kept his remarkable spirit and outlook optimistic, positive, and joyful.

I once asked Buck if he at least hated those who denied him his opportunity, and his answer was moving and powerful: “Hate? I ain’t got time to hate ANY man. I hate cancer because it took my mother. It took my wife (he and his wife Ora were married for 50 years). I hate AIDS because it took my young friend a while back. But I hate NO man. Hate just destroys your soul.”

I hosted many Negro League Museum fundraisers and Buck was always there. I used to literally sit at his knee like a child would be listening to his stories…and got an earful of his remarkable wisdom.

For six decades this man gave his life to baseball. Anyone who ever knew “Buck” was sure he’d be inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame. After all, besides his baseball credentials, he sat on the board of the Hall of Fame, and personally helped oversee the induction of many Negro League players who might have been overlooked had it not been for his keen memory and insight.

Then, in 2006, all of us who knew “Buck” were sure he’d get the “call” …and the “Hall” DID call. But they asked him to speak at the induction, and not be an inductee.

“We didn’t get the votes, Buck,” said Bob Kendrick that day in the Negro Leagues Museum. It was one of the saddest days in baseball history, at least to me. Deep down it must’ve broken Buck’s heart. In fact, Buck didn’t know it, but he was dying of bone cancer. At 94, it was his last chance for glory while he was alive.

But he was denied. Again.

A lifetime of unfairness and injustice experienced… yet again. Another man might’ve been angry or sad.

This is what Buck said that day:

“God’s been good to me. They didn’t think Buck was good enough to be in the Hall of Fame. That’s the way they thought about it and that’s the way it is, so we’re going to live with that. Now, if I’m a Hall of Famer for you, that’s all right with me. Just keep loving old Buck. Don’t weep for Buck. No, man, be happy, be thankful.”

Buck died a month after he graciously gave his speech at Cooperstown, a place where he belonged, a place where he SHOULD have been enshrined.

Deep down, I think the bone cancer was only part of the reason he died. I believe he also died of a broken heart.

I really missed Buck yesterday, and I didn’t know where to put my feelings, so I called my old friends at the Negro League Museum in Kansas City. I got my friend Joan at the switchboard. We started to talk about old times, and then, I started to cry. I said, “Joan, I miss Buck. I miss his heart and his wisdom and his gentleness and his stories…and all that’s going on in this country… with all the hate and the injustice and unfairness with voting access for blacks and other minorities being set back …and the cruelty of all that. I wish we had Buck to talk to.”

I was weeping hard now. It was now very real tears for me. Joan cleared her throat and said, “We all miss Buck, Roy. We miss him every day because we miss the goodness which he brought us in every way.”

Buck O’Neil received the highest civilian honor in 2006. President Bush gave him the Presidential Medal of Freedom. But Bush gave it to Buck posthumously . Again, Buck O’Neil was denied an honor in his presence. He didn’t get to experience it while he was alive. Of course, Buck wouldn’t see it that way.

The grandson of a slave, he grew up in baseball, honored the game, and felt the love of so many and never, ever, “hugged” hate.

His favorite song he used to sing repeated this lyric: “The greatest thing in all my life is loving you.”

When I hosted fundraisers for the Negro League museum…I asked the audience to repeat that line. “The greatest thing in all my life…was loving you.”

Today, I thought about John Jordan “Buck” O’Neil and all the love he brought to this world…and the very sad and difficult time we are in. And then I thought about that song and that man. “The greatest thing in all my life is loving you.”

Thank you Buck for all you stood for. And after all you endured…you showed me what grace and dignity looks like….and all the love you shared for so many. It WAS, indeed, the ‘greatest thing in life.’

Buck ONeil was FINALLY inducted in the baseball HOF , 16 years AFTER his death last year, 2022. He never lived to see that honor. What a shame he couldn’t.

But Buck, were he alive, would just be grateful.

What a wonderful man.

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