Even though Stan Musial turns 90 on Sunday, he already has one of his biggest birthday presents: the Presidential Medal of Freedom, which was gift-wrapped by the White House this week for the former St. Louis Cardinals slugger. In fact, he will be honored with others early next year by Barack Obama "for (his) especially meritorious contribution" in society as a sports icon and beyond.That's nice. But is Musial worthy of a bigger gift? I mean, baseball tagged Joe DiMaggio as The Greatest Living Player from 1969 until his death 11 years ago, so is Musial now that guy?
Nope.
It's Hank Aaron.
For one, Aaron is the legitimate home-run king compared to whatever Barry Bonds is with his artificially enhanced body. Not only that, Aaron has more offensive records than anybody in baseball history. He also could run, field and throw, but let's return to his hitting for a moment. Despite his prolific slugging, he never struck out 100 times in a season.
There was a pause over the phone on Thursday before Tommy Lasorda interrupted his business trip in Hawaii to say, "Well, out of all the guys, Aaron's gotta be right up there (pause). You know, I'm going to take two guys. I'm going to take Aaron and Musial."
There was another pause. Then Lasorda chuckled away the silence by adding, "I'm sorry that I'm going to have to leave Willie Mays out, and Willie's a friend of mine. How about that?"
With apologies to Lasorda, 83,who has interacted with most of the game's all-time greats during his seven decades in baseball, the ranking should go Aaron, then Mays and then Musial -- just nudging out Yogi Berra while distancing himself from the impressive likes of Sandy Koufax, Frank Robinson, Pete Rose and Bob Gibson.
Now this isn't in doubt: Musial is by far The Greatest Living Most Overlooked Baseball Player of Yore.He isn't such a thing around St. Louis, of course, where he is revered as much as The Arch. He is depicted in his famous batting crouch through a statue at the ballpark. When he attends Cardinals games, he is the most approachable person in Missouri. He also stays fresh in the minds of a generation represented by Lasorda that saw Musial march quietly toward one of baseball's most staggering resumes.
Three National League MVP awards.
Seven batting titles.
The owner of 29 NL records and 17 major league records when he retired after the 1963 season.
Here's something else to consider: Enos Slaughter. Lou Brock. Rogers Hornsby. Albert Pujols. Ozzie Smith. Despite such elite players for one of baseball's most storied franchises, Musial still holds the Cardinals record for hits, home runs and RBIs.
"You know, and a lot of people don't realize that he is in the top 20 in every record of the game, and I'm talking about singles, doubles, triples, home runs, the whole works," Lasorda said, as his mind drifted back to his early days with the Dodgers. "Boy, he killed us. He always killed the Dodgers. He played against us once in a doubleheader in Brooklyn, and he got something like seven or eight hits.
"Listen, Stan Musial never had an enemy. ... I don't think there was anybody in this country that didn't like Stan Musial. I know I looked up to him with so much appreciation for what he was to baseball through the years."
-- Tom Lasorda "Listen, Stan Musial never had an enemy. I can truthfully say that. I don't think there was anybody in this country that didn't like Stan Musial. I know I looked up to him with so much appreciation for what he was to baseball through the years. Worked hard. Never popped off."
No wonder Musial drifted into the shadows over the decades, especially east of the Mississippi River, where the national image-makers in the media are the most pronounced.
Aaron wasn't boisterous, either, and like Musial, he spent his career in less visible markets (Atlanta and Milwaukee). Even so, Aaron became entrenched in the minds of even non-baseball fans forever after his successful and graceful chase of Babe Ruth's 714. Then he had a popular candy bar commercial near the end of his career. And he was noted during his post-playing days as the unofficial spokesman for injustices in the game involving blacks. He accelerated that role in 1972 after the death of Jackie Robinson, his hero and baseball critic.
Elsewhere, during Musial's baseball life and afterward, there were the charismatic ways of Mickey Mantle and Mays. There also were the mysterious ways of Ted Williams and DiMaggio.
Musial was just Musial.
About the only thing the rest of us younger than Lasorda's generation knew about Musial was that folks said he was good and that he played the harmonica, which he does to this day.
"He was a pitcher, and a manager made him an outfielder, and he went on to become one of the great, great players of the game," Lasorda said, before telling more stories about Aaron, Mays, Mantle and the rest. "People say you can't compare the eras, but I can. Those players from that Musial era were simply in a different category than players of today.
"Just take the pitching staffs. Look at what those great players would be hitting off of today compared to Gibson, Koufax, (Juan) Marichal, (Don) Drysdale. It's not even close."
No, it isn't, which means a 21st century Musial would have been even greater, but he still wouldn't have been the greatest.
"Well," Lasorda said, with another pause, "now that I think about it, for me, the two best all-around players were Mantle and Mays. I'm talking about defense and offense. Those guys could do everything."
Let's just say they all were great and call it a day.
You can follow me on Twitter at TMooreAOL.




