By Bill McCurdy

When 92-year old Morris M. "Buddy" Hancken died on February 15, 2007, his loss fell hard upon a broad ground of baseball love. Two daughters, Candy and Kay, lost their father; two grandchildren and two great-grandchildren surrendered their family patriarch; two sons-in-law lost their father figure; a sweet lady named Maurelle said goodbye to her best friend; the United States Marines and the Masons gave up one of their own; scores of friends literally and figuratively gave up their best buddy; and the game of baseball said goodbye to one of its greatest ambassadors and funniest storytellers. It is to the end of sharing a mere sprinkle of his deluging baseball lore that this farewell article is dedicated, and at the expense of omitting mention of so many other baseball accomplishments of this man and his many gifts to the game.

Buddy was born in Birmingham, Alabama on August 30, 1914. He played catcher for most of his 21 years of professional baseball in the minor leagues from 1934–1953, 1963. He managed several minor league clubs from 1948–1967. He also scouted for a few clubs, served as a field coach for the Houston Astros from 1968–1972, and then stayed on with the Astros for an additional twenty years of administrative duty and public speaking service.

Coming home from a speaking engagement on a stormy night in 1992, Buddy retired the next day after making a deal with God about his personal safety. “God,” Buddy pleaded silently in his car, as the lightening flashed all around him, “if you will just get me home in one piece, I'll gladly retire tomorrow.” Buddy got home safely all right and he kept his word. The next day, he called the Astros and told them he was retiring, at the age of 77.

When Buddy then called his daughter Kay and informed her of his decision, she asked in disbelief, “Retiring from what?”

“Baseball,” Buddy answered. “Don’t you think I’ve worked long enough?”

Kay replied with a laugh, “I didn't think they called what you do work!"

Buddy joined his daughter in finding the humor of that remark and simply added, "Find me a place to live in Orange. I'm selling the house and moving closer to you and your sister." By this time, Buddy had been widowed from his beloved wife Hazel for about six years. The couple previously had shared 47 years of a baseball marriage that typically bounced them all over the country.

Daughter Kay was right in her comment to Buddy back in 1992 and he knew it. It’s not really work if you get paid for doing something you love. And Buddy Hancken loved baseball. And people. And storytelling.

“One time in 1939, when I was playing for Seattle,” Buddy once told me, “we were showering in the ballpark at Hollywood, following a game with the Stars. We were kind of happy because we had won, so we all just broke into song. Since we were all mostly Southern boys, we naturally gravitated toward hymns, so we started singing 'That Old Rugged Cross.' We had forgotten that the Hollywood club was planning a big celebrity game following ours, so we sort of dallied too long. Anyway, as we were singing in the showers, we all of a sudden heard this great voice, singing along with us. I peeked my head around the corner and, lo and behold, I saw that it was Bing Crosby singing with us! We were all so excited that we just marched out of that shower, naked as jaybirds, and finished our hymn with Bing!”

Buddy became a more modern version of Moonlight Graham in 1940 when Connie Mack bought his contract from Seattle to catch a couple of knuckleballers he had signed. When both of these pitchers failed to make the club, Buddy was relegated to the bullpen as the 3rd catcher on the A’s roster. Buddy finally got into a 9–7 win over the Indians at Cleveland on May 14th, but it was only to catch the bottom of the 9th inning. The game appearance emboldened Buddy’s courage. After the game, he told the intimidating A’s manager, “Mr. Mack, if you’re not going to play me more often that, I wish you’d just trade me!” Connie Mack said nothing. The very next day, Buddy Hancken’s contract was assigned to Williamsport. Buddy never got another shot at a single time at bat in the majors.

In 1950, Buddy rented his home in Beaumont to the great Rogers Hornsby, who was in town that season to manage the local Exporters. After the season, Buddy’s neighbors welcomed him back with open arms. “That Hornsby fellow,” said one neighbor, “was the most unfriendly fellow I never met.”

Buddy also had a penchant for meeting and forming strong friendships with celebrities that lasted a lifetime. While managing Waco in 1949-50, the new General Manager there was a young man named Joe Brown. The GM’s dad, comedian Joe E. Brown, came down and spent a month in Waco, staying with Buddy and suiting up with the team at practice. A pitcher for those same clubs, Jack Bumgarner, also brought his brother Jim to Waco for an extended stay and both men became lifelong friends to Buddy Hancken. The younger Bumgarner brother later became much better known as James Garner, the actor.

A little later, Buddy helped a friend’s son get a tryout opportunity with El Paso during the 1973 Texas League season. The kid got off to a great start. He was hitting .563 when an injury ended his career. Buddy felt badly because he had known the player from birth. The kid’s father was a fellow named Bing Russell. The kid was Kurt Russell, who went on to fame as a movie actor. In the Kurt Russell-Goldie Hawn household, Hancken was known best simply as “Uncle Buddy.”

Buddy Hancken was inducted into the Texas Baseball Hall of Fame in 1994. Because of people like Buddy, the Texas Hall ought to open a “Baseball Good Guy” wing. Buddy was an oasis of true friendship in a world where the same is hard to find.