If only Jack Brett could be there: George Brett credits father for inspiring him to greatness

While this is a KU basketball blog, with the Kansas City Royals in the World Series for the first time since 1985, I thought I'd pay tribute and flash back to July 1999 when I wrote this cover story on George Brett for Kansas City Sports & Fitness Hall of Fame commemorative issue.

Although I was just in my first year with the magazine and my first season covering the Royals, my publisher at the time Jim MacDonald asked me to interview Brett and write the cover story, instead of choosing one of the other veteran writers who’ve covered the Royals for years.

“You’re the best writer we have,” Jim told me.

I was humbled and very honored. Jim immediately gave me George’s home phone number this June day in 1999 as he wanted me to do a one-on-one interview with the legend at his house with a photographer there as well. I didn’t know if that was possible giving Brett’s busy schedule preparing for his Hall of Fame induction on July 25.

But heck, it couldn't hurt to try.

So I called George at home. He answered and we spoke briefly. He told me to call back soon when he had more information. So I called him back a few days later and reached either him or his wife, Leslie. I can’t remember for sure who answered. One of them told me that Stacy Mayer from the McKellar Group was handling the itinerary, so I would need to contact her.

I think Jim made contact with Stacy, and she later called and told me that I was invited to Brett’s and Dick Houser’s suites at Kaufman Stadium for an interview with George. While I was a little disappointed I didn’t get a one-on-one interview, I was happy that I would at least get a chance to ask George questions and be able to write the story.

In preparation for the interview, I did extensive and exhaustive homework just like I did in college at KU when I received a 4.0 GPA my last four of five semesters. I read every book I could find on Brett, any articles I could read where I could get some grasp of what angle I wanted to take to make this cover story a very special one.

I also wanted to do justice in 2,000 words to the man whom I pretended to be playing whiffle ball in my backyard growing up. I’d stand in the batter’s box with weight on my back leg, waiting for the pitch from my friend Phillip. And I’d revel whenever I’d hit a home run or a liner for a double, just like George did for so many memorable years in Kansas City.

After concluding my research, I knew a few things. One, I had to focus on his relationship with his late father, who was a very hard-driving man who always wanted George to strive for greatness and make the Hall of Fame. That was Jack Brett’s ultimate wish. Two, I wanted to focus on George’s supreme work ethic and giving roots like shucking corn with the clubhouse boys in Milwaukee, and three, I knew I needed to ask him about his volunteer efforts with ALS. All proceeds from George’s Hall of Fame events were going to promote ALS awareness and funding.

After completing all that homework, I felt I was set for the interview and drove from my home in Lawrence to Kauffman Stadium on a mission. While I’m sure I was the youngest writer there and the least experienced, I was proud of the way I took over part of the interview with my questions. I was aggressive and didn’t hold back, knowing I needed to get to the heart of the story and who George Brett was all about. 

Here is that cover story, one of the most rewarding and crowning achievements of my professional career. I'm forever grateful to Jim MacDonald for giving me this opportunity.

July 1999

By David Garfield

The anticipation is building at 6:37 p.m. this June evening in the Dick Houser and George Brett suites at Kauffman Stadium. While the Kansas City Royals are preparing to play the Detroit Tigers in about a half hour, a small group of reporters waits for a legend to arrive. 

Brett, who will be inducted into the Hall of Fame in a month on July 25, is running a little late. But who can blame him? After all, he’s been swamped with media requests ever since January 5 when he got the “call” from Cooperstown. The past few weeks have been especially brutal for him. This interview session will be Brett’s seventh media function today, and last week, he was on six radio stations in one day.

Suddenly, Stacy Mayer (communications specialist for The McKellar Group, which is handling Brett’s itinerary), thinks she sees Brett coming. “Do we have a sighting?” she asks. Not yet. The one and only George Brett walks in a few minutes later, and politely tells the media he has to make a quick appearance on Fox Sports Midwest. He returns at 6:53 p.m. Casually dressed in blue jeans and a Mutual Mortgage polo shirt, Brett cracks a joke and sits down. The writers immediately push their seats forward.

Confident and at ease, Brett clasps his hands together and fields questions from reporters. He is holding court, just as he’s done so eloquently on and off the field since he played his first game in Kansas City on August 2, 1973. Brett, 45, begins reflecting on his family, coaches, teammates, and other people that have influenced him and shaped his identity as a player and human being.  

Asked if he ever came to peace with his dad, Brett says simply, “There was never anything to reconcile. He was just a tough father. He wasn’t the nicest man in the world, but he taught me the qualities of life. He taught me never to be content. How do you get 3, 154 hits? Because you’re not content with what you’ve accomplished. You want to accomplish more.”  

It’s been documented how Jack Brett expected greatness from George and his other three boys—John, Ken, and Bobby. Nothing less would do. He wanted them to extend the unlimited possibilities of the human mind, and reach a level reserved for the very elite who have ever played major league baseball—the Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, New York.

Jack Brett was especially hard on his youngest son, George, who he viewed as the laziest of all the siblings and lacking motivation. Jack prodded, criticized, yelled, and inspired George to become a man and accept responsibility for his potential. He constantly compared him to his older brothers, and as the baby, George was always last on the pecking order.

In John Garrity’s 1981 book, “The George Brett Story,” he wrote about the time George struck out twice in a Little League game, and suffered the short drive with his father from Recreation Park in El Segundo, Calif., up Mariposa Street to his house on 628 Penn Street. As George got out of the car, he shamefully hung his head, and “the next thing I felt was a foot coming right up my” butt.  

Jack Brett was critical of his boy because he loved him and just couldn’t accept him failing. He hoped sports would be his one salvation since George didn’t take much interest in school.  Although George wasn’t blessed with the natural talent as his brother Ken, he certainly had some unique abilities. As a senior at El Segundo High School, he played every position in an all-star game, and retired the side in the ninth inning pitching both right and left handed.  

When he wasn’t playing baseball, Brett’s priorities were spending time in school looking out the window and seeing which way the planes were turning from Los Angeles International Airport.

“I could tell you back in 1970 and ‘71 if United Airlines schedule was on time or not because I used to watch them fly out,” he says this evening. “I just kept a log. I could go back and look, ‘United 1:12 is running at 1:15 today. Three minutes late.’”

His priorities in life immediately changed after he was selected by the Royals in the second round of the 1971 baseball draft. Brett now found himself in the real world in Billings, Mont. He was no longer the carefree high school star, but a scared rookie fighting for a job, and playing with guys four years older than him.

“My work ethic got tuned up a notch,” he said.

The rest is history. On July 25, Kansas City’s favorite son will achieve baseball’s highest honor and his late father’s greatest wish—enshrinement into the Hall of Fame. Brett, who aches that his dad will not be with him in Cooperstown, hasn’t quite figured out what he’ll say in his induction speech about the man he calls his “biggest role model.” However, he does know one thing.  His dad will be the last person he thanks.  

“That will be the most emotional,” Brett said. “I’d rather try to kind of cruise through it real smooth and then in the end get emotional.”

Crack. Brett suddenly rises from his chair. “There’s a home run,” he says, watching the game action through his suite window. “No, only a double.”

Brett now eases back into his chair, crosses his legs, and puts his right hand on his right knee.  “Only a double.” Brett is the only  player in major league history to have 600 doubles, 100 triples, 200 stolen bases, 300 home runs, and 3,000 hits. Still, Jack Brett rarely acknowledged his son’s success during his playing career. However, as he was preparing to undergo open-heart surgery in March 1988, Jack finally decided to express his innermost feelings to George. In the Kansas City Star’s book, “George Brett: A Royal Hero,” George said his dad told him: 

“There’s only one thing I want to do before I do die, and that’s to go to Cooperstown. I want to go back and see you inducted into the Hall of Fame.” 

George fully realized at this moment the impact he had on other people, and making the Hall of Fame for his father became a central driving force in his life. He wanted him to be proud. 

A reporter now asks Brett about the time four years later when he visited his dad on his death bed. Brett, who had struck out twice the previous night, recalls the scene. “He asked me how I did. I said, ‘I went 0 for 4.’ He said, ‘Did you hit the ball good?’ I said, ‘Yeah, I just didn’t get any hits.’”

Jack Brett died the next morning. George, who no doubt remembered that day as a child when his father kicked him in the butt for striking out twice in one game, didn’t want to see his dad pass away knowing that his youngest son had failed the night before.

“I knew I would have pissed him off if I would have told him I struck out twice,” George said. “I kind of told a little white lie, because I didn’t want him to die right there. He was going to die any minute, and I didn’t want to be the one to put him over the edge.”

While his dad inspired George to greatness, the late Charley Lau transformed him from a .200 hitter into a Hall of Famer. The former Royals batting instructor believed in this blond surfer from California, and “put his arm around me.” Brett has fond memories of going out to bars after games and having a few drinks with his mentor and dear friend. The star pupil now gestures more animatedly with his hands as he mentions Lau’s gift for stealing beer glasses. 

“He’d say, ‘Hey give him (Brett) another B and B.’ ‘Charley, I didn’t finish the first one.’ ‘I (Lau) will, give us two more.’ And then we’d get up, he’d stick his glasses in his socks and we’d go home.” 

Brett laughs, and so do the reporters. Brett laughs some more. It’s a hearty laugh, one which he’s engaged people with his whole life. He’s in the mood for a beer himself tonight, and pops open a can of Miller Lite. With his right hand holding his beer, Brett takes a sip, stretches his legs, and affectionately slaps a reporter on the leg. He’s always been a people person and had fun. Brett was the guy you’d see at Westport every night after games during his career connecting with the community.  

He’s also been a caring person who cheerfully went on Royals caravans before the season and brightened children’s lives. Brett was the biggest clubhouse tipper, and helped with the laundry.  When the Royals visited Milwaukee, Brett would shuck corn with the clubhouse kids. But exactly where did these giving roots come from?

“Maybe being the low man on the totem pole growing up, being the youngest of four boys,” Brett said. “I had chores as a child. I knew what it was like to wash clothes and hang them. We didn’t have a dryer. We didn’t have any dishwasher. ... That was my job. All of a sudden you get to the major leagues, and you don’t have jobs anymore? No, I don’t agree with that.” 

However, it wasn’t until Brett met Keith Worthington and watched his friend slowly die from ALS (Lou Gehrig’s Disease) that giving to others took on richer meaning. Worthington died in 1984 after living with ALS for 12 years. Brett has raised millions of dollars for ALS since 1981, and dedicated all of the events surrounding his Hall of Fame induction to increase ALS awareness and funding.  

Worthington taught Brett about the responsibility of “giving back to communities and working for a cause that was very special. I saw what it (ALS) did to him. I gave him my word, and I’ve kept my word.”  

Brett, who fervently hopes that researchers will find a cure for the disease in the next year— “Wouldn’t that be something?”— continues mesmerizing the media with words of purpose and passion.

“I don’t know any of my friends that I grew up with in Southern California that still live there or live anywhere else in the country that are involved in any charitable work at all,” he said. “And yet, I don’t have one friend in Kansas City that’s not involved in a charity. So what does that tell you about our city, people? Is this a good place to live or what?”

Yes indeed. It is a city that loves Brett—not just for being a baseball legend, but for being a good person and humanitarian. Of course, his greatest fans are his wife, Leslie, and three boys—Jackson, 6, Dylan, 4, and Robin, 3. With marriage (Brett and Leslie Davenport tied the knot in February 1992) and fatherhood have come new responsibilities. Brett has changed, and yet, he’s still the same “kid” at heart as he was on the diamond. Instead of playing baseball, he’s now playing children’s games with his family. 

Brett has always loved kids. He could identify with them, as they reminded him of himself. Countless parents have even named their children after him, which Brett once said was “about as high a compliment a man can pay another man.”

And on July 25, baseball will give George Brett the highest compliment when he is enshrined into the Hall of Fame. As he walks up to the podium in Cooperstown this memorable day, he’ll glance at his bullet outline, maybe shed a few tears, and speak from the heart. The man, who inspired a generation of youngsters to believe in themselves with his grit and determination on the field, could do it no other way.

“It’s going to be the most important one (speech) I’ve ever made in my life,” Brett said.

His father would be proud.