Special to The Detroit News
The race was finished late that September when the greatest player in baseball sat reflecting in the clubhouse. He twitched and swirled, flexing the shoulder blades to loosen the neck.
Those were Roberto Clemente’s mannerisms. Unless some sports journalist bothered him, Roberto would keep his mind closed without revealing the source of his thoughts. He was cantankerous – always.
And his immense pride as an athlete would open his visage to beyond the prospects of playing in another World Series.
That season, there was a countdown into history, just as there has been this month.