"How much you wanna bet I can swing all these bats?" Killebrew is kind of a rare bird: All he did was bash. He hit 573 home runs and that is the only reason he is a Hall of Famer and it's the only reason people generally care about his death.
He did not hit for average (.256 career hitter ... and he never hit .300). He had a career high 160 hits in a season (1966), which coincided with his career year in doubles (27). He had no speed. He didn't score a ton of runs and I wouldn't call him a prolific run producer (nine 100-RBI seasons in 21 years).
He was a squat guy with a compact swing and a killer upper body and he simply swatted pitch after pitch into the bleachers. He won one MVP in 1969 (49 home runs, 140 RBI, 145 walks) and went to 13 All-Star games at three different positions (third and first base and outfield).
Most notably, he hit the ball hard and far. He's one of four hitters to launch a pitch over the left field roof in old Tiger Stadium. He hit the longest recorded homer at Baltimore's Memorial Stadium (471 feet) and also the longest shot at Minnesota's Metropolitan Stadium (520 feet).
Killebrew came up at 18 and spent the first five seasons of his professional career going from the minors to the Majors based on need and opportunity. It wasn't until a 23-year-old Killebrew played 159 games for Washington and hit 42 home runs that he was a mainstay.
Even Hall of Fame voters -- in love with the long ball -- took their time in inducting Killebrew. It was not until 1984 -- his fourth time on the ballot -- that Killebrew got the call.
I by no means want to take anything away from Killebrew, and he'll be missed as one of the truly marvelous hitters in professional baseball and, by all accounts, one of the nicest guys.
