In the spring of 1954, the Milwaukee Braves acquired power hitter Bobby Thomson to boost the young team’s lineup with a much-needed long ball threat.  The Braves wanted a solid right-handed bat to counter the southpaw pitching that had given them fits in ’52 and ’53.  Until the Thomson trade, the club’s only reliable home run hitter was the lefty third baseman Eddie Matthews. 

 But Thomson, famous for the “shot heard ‘wound the world” three seasons prior, badly broke his ankle during spring training—opening the door for a young prospect named Henry Aaron.

 In ’52, five years after Jackie Robinson broke baseball’s race barrier, the Braves had outbid the Giants for Aaron’s contract. 

 Upon graduation from high school in Mobile, Alabama, the kid that would become the greatest home run hitter in baseball history signed on to play with a black semi-pro team called the Indianapolis Clowns.  Milwaukee paid the Clowns $7,500 for Aaron’s contract and gave the outfielder $300 per month to play minor league ball. 

 The day after Thomson went down, the promising minor league prospect named Aaron started at second base for the Braves in a spring training game versus the Reds.  In a late inning, Aaron crushed a homerun that can only be described as sign of what was to come.  

 Bob Klapisch, the author of, “The Braves: An Illustrated History of America’s Team,” wrote about the blast.

 “It started as a low line drive—so innocent-looking off the bat that the Reds’ shortstop actually leaped to attempt a catch.  Seconds later, the ball flew over the wall, indisputable proof of Aaron’s wrist strength.”

 Aaron earned a starting spot in the Braves outfield in ‘54.  He made an immediate impact, launching 13 homeruns during his rookie campaign.  Three years later, Aaron led the Milwaukee Braves to a World Series Championship, belting 44 homers and knocking in an astounding 132 runs. 

 He began his career wearing the 43 jersey, but soon switched to his preferred number: 44.

 Aaron and the Braves moved to Atlanta in the spring of ’66—giving southern boys of both races a new hero to look up to. 

 He never won a world title in Atlanta, or even a National League Pennant, but he did surpass the Babe as the greatest hitter the game had ever witnessed--and he made an irrevocable impact on the youth of the south. 

 My father filled my younger years with stories of Aaron’s mastery at the plate.  He put me to bed at night with tales of Aaron’s wrists and his line drive shots. 

 According to my dad, a ball off of Aaron’s bat just sounded different.  That thunderous crack shook every nerve of every fan in attendance.  Hank’s long-balls didn’t soar up into the heavens like those of others—his blasts rocketed low over the fence, jeopardizing the lives of those pedestrian fans in Atlanta-Fulton County’s cheap outfield seats who had dared to attend a game without bringing along a mitt. 

 Monday, the Atlanta Journal-Constitution’s Terrnace Moore interviewed Atlanta’s immortal number 44, in regard to the election of the 44^th president of the United States. 

 Moore wrote that the beloved home run king shed tears.

 Like all other civil rights leaders and every other black American held to an unbelievably high standard in the face of even the tiniest measures of success, Aaron deserves some credit for the result of this groundbreaking presidential election.

 “He’s the 44th president, and that was my uniform number, by the way,” Aaron told Moore.

 “I’m still collecting newspapers, different articles, all of those things over this, and I’m still on cloud nine.  I’ve been telling people that we may not have gotten our 40 acres and a mule, but we got 50 states.

 “It was a happy scene for me — and for a lot of black people, given what we’ve been through in this country, and then to have this history.”

 Moore’s wonderful piece about 44 on 44 can be found here, and it is worth your time.