George Kell: genuine, great and all that good stuff

George Kell was one of the first prominent Arkansans I met when I began work in this state in 1977.

The first impression was a lasting impression.

In addition to being the chairman of the Arkansas Highway Commission (which was impressive enough to me), Kell was the president of the Arkansas Sports Hall of Fame.

During our initial meeting, he cordially underscore cordially invited me to join the board of directors of an organization I've served for more three decades.

It's hard to turn down an invitation to join a hall of fame group from a Hall of Famer.

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It was easy to accept an invitation from Kell. He had wonderfully genuine smile, a disarming demeanor and charming voice.

It didn't take long to determine Kell was one of the good guys, a rich individual from a small, underrated state that has regularly produced rich individuals and an amazingly long line of great icon sports figures.

And from those first moments when he introduced me to the concepts of the Arkansas Sports Hall of Fame, it was easy to detect he cared deeply about Arkansas and its heritage. He didn't just care about his home state, he was devoted to serving it and making it better.

He could have retired in Detroit or anywhere in the Midwest.

He could have eventually gone to New York as a talking head for any number of sports shows.

Instead, he never abandoned Swifton as his home. He never forgot where he came from and never ran away from it.

As I think of my all-too-brief association with Kell and upon hearing of his death, I keep coming back to the description, "genuine nice guy."

When we talked about the Arkansas Sports Hall of Fame, he was passionate about the great athletes Arkansas has produced. He mentioned great infielders and third basemen. But he talked more about Brooks Robinson than himself.

He was committed to trying to preserve that heritage and always making sure that fame, not politics, were at the core of induction to the hall. During his time as president, he served the organization well.

I understand that genuineness was also evident in his automobile business. He stood behind what that to what his name was affixed.

That was evident when Kell was a player when he declined to sit out the final game of the 1949 season and rejected a pinch-hitter on the final at-bat when he had to go against Hall of Famer Bob Feller having to get a hit to win the American League batting title against the legendary Ted Williams.

"I'm not gonna sit on a stool and win the batting title," Kell said.

Genuine.

If you couldn't earn something the right way, it wasn't worth having.

From the start, it was hard not to both like and admire George Kell.

I heard a few of his broadcasts of Detroit Tiger games. He was good. He could have expanded that career. He became a student of broadcasting just as he was a student of baseball.

One thing that may be overlooked about Kell as a player is his completeness. He was just as good a fielder as he was a hitter. He was a 10-time all-star, batted over .300 nine times and had the best fielding percentage in the American League times. If you've ever played third base and experienced those line shots sent by pull hitters in that directions, you can really appreciate that consistency of fielding percentage.

In lieu of flowers, the Kell family requested that donations in his memory be made to the First United Methodist Church in Swifton.

Red Rolfe, Kell's manager with the Detroit Tigers, termed Kell "a seven-day ballplayer."

I would amend that to "seven-day person."

(Sports columnist David McCollum can be reached at 505-1235 or david.mccollum@thecabin.net)