Henning: Al Kaline had unmatched grace, on and off the baseball field
Anyone who ever saw his artistry on a baseball field recalls, immediately, the moments when Al Kaline’s skills seemed from another realm.
The high bat and crouch. The way his swing moved like a rattlesnake’s strike through the zone and tore into a pitch. The manner in which he glided across right field, locked in on a liner headed for trouble, snaring it and saving an inning and a sweating pitcher’s day, and maybe his career.
And, of course, there was the arm. That radiant right arm. How a man no bigger than Kaline could generate the velocity he unleashed on a throw to third base, or to the plate, astounded like the northern lights on a scale of natural wonders. It was always as if he were throwing darts at a bull's-eye rather than a baseball from 300 feet destined for a defender’s glove and a baserunner’s doom.
But there was another way in which, for decades beyond those during which he played immaculate baseball, that a Detroit Tigers deity separated himself, seemingly, from mortals.
It was how he handled being Al Kaline...