Steve Buckley is just one interview away from achieving a Hamilton Hat Trick, but it will never happen.
Buckley has talked with baseball’s Jack Hamilton, who beaned Tony Conigliaro in 1967. He has dined with Margaret Hamilton, the Wicked Witch of the West in the Wizard of Oz.
The missing person is founding father Alexander Hamilton, murdered by Vice-President Aaron Burr in 1804, and you think that politics is a rough business today. No doubt that particular Hamilton would gladly have stuck around for Buckley to complete the trifecta.
Buckley, a prominent and productive sports journalist for going on six decades, spoke about the Hamiltons and dozens of other things during his Larry Lucchino Writers Series appearance at Polar Park last weekend.
It was a crowd pleaser, one of those we-wish-we-had-more-time events that consisted of a crowd of of, by and for Red Sox fans. While Buckley’s job description has forced him into neutrality, he grew in Cambridge as a Sox fan, is UMass Class of ‘78, and lives merely a few subway stops from Fenway Park.
Buckley talked to Jack Hamilton at the pitchers’ tavern in Branson, Mo. He interviewed the Wicked Witch of the West in Maine in his very early days as a reporter.
“I had tea with Margaret Hamilton in Ogunquit,” Buckley recalled. “This is when I knew I had chosen the right career path, that I had interviewed Margaret Hamilton of the Wizard of Oz.”
That was, perhaps, the first high point of Buckley’s career. It was not close to being the last. He has written for many different outlets in many different places but is as New England as white clam chowder.
Buckley is presently a columnist for The Athletic, which also serves as the sports section for the New York Times. His host Saturday was WooSox team president Charles Steinberg and the two men have many shared experiences.
The most memorable might have been on Oct. 16, 2003 — the Aaron Boone home run.
Steinberg, a Baltimore native, was in his second season working in Boston, having grown up with the great Jim Palmer, Frank Robinson, Brooks Robinson, etc. Orioles. Triumph was the norm for those teams.
Buckley came from an entirely different tradition—the Bucky Dent home run.
Steinberg figured the ’03 Sox had done pretty well, getting deep into the playoffs, a proud achievement. He and Buckley had this post-game conversation:
“Buck,” Steinberg asked, “I’ve got a question. Was this season a success or failure?”
Buckley answered, “Charles, it was a (***) disaster.”
The current WooSox president came back with, “Fascinating!”
When Steinberg suggested that life was wonderful, Buckley said, “No, it’s terrible.”
A year later, life was indeed wonderful for the Red Sox. Buckley maintained his connection with Steinberg and his boss, Lucchino, who was noticeably more volatile than Steinberg. This came into play on Aug. 1, 2015 when the Boston Herald broke the story that Lucchino stint as Red Sox president would be over at the end of the season.
This was supposed to be a secret. Lucchino and Buckley went at it, and not just verbally.
“I loved Larry,” Buckley said. “He was emotional. He was physical. Larry once physically assaulted me. He once shoved me. We were having an argument and he literally put out both hands, said ‘C’mon’ and pushed me like that.”
Steinberg explaned, “Don’t you know he wouldn’t do that unless he liked you.”
Buckley’s formative years as a Red Sox fan included 1967, the Impossible Dream season that has fueled 59 more seasons of hysteria, some good, some bad. He has unsuccessfuly campaigned to have Conigliaro’s Number 25, thinks Tony C. would have set records and made the Hall of Fame had he not had his eyesight destroyed by Hamilton’s beanball in 1967.
Was the beanball a spit ball?
At his tavern in Branson, Hamilton said it was not. He told Buckley he only threw the spitter when he was pitching badly, and he had not been pitching badly.
The afternoon definitely had an Impossible Dream slant to it. Partway through the event, pitcher Jose Santiago arrived via a phone call. It was his 86th birthday and the crowd sang Happy Birthday to him.
The talk-show format been part of Buckley’s world, but not the major part.
“When you’re in your car, in traffic,” he said, “you kind of want to be diverted from the miserableness of your day, be entertained. I always use the (baseball) example — you play different positions and you use different equipment.
“I worked with Tony Massarotti at the Herald for years and he was one of the really fine baseball writers and a funny guy to have around the press box, a good journalist.
“Now you drive around and hear him on 98.5 and it’s ‘Oh my God, Tony, what are you saying?’ But it’s just different. No one’s gonna go on the radio and lie, it’s not a case of that, but do they take molehills and turn them into mountains?
“Yes, yes they do.”
There is one more Lucchino series event in 2026. Ron Darling will be at Polar Park on Sept. 18. It will be a homecoming of sorts for the great pitcher who grew up in Millbury. Perhaps he could grab a snack with the Cowardly Lion on the way to the ballpark.
