Hall of Fame Slugger: Harmon Killebrew.(Questions & Answers)(Interview)

Talking about Harmon Killebrew, former Baltimore Orioles manager Paul Richards once said, "He can knock the ball out of any park, including Yellowstone." Baseball's most feared power hitter of the 1960s, Killebrew belted 40 or more homers in a season eight times--including 49 in 1969, his American League MVP season. Fifteen years later, after a career in which he piled up 573 home runs and 1,584 runs batted in, he was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame

Adam Schefter: Of all the causes you support, which means the most to you?

Harmon Killebrew: I started a golf tournament with my former business partner, Ralph Harding, the United States congressman from Idaho. The tournament was named after a former (Minnesota Twins) player of ours, Danny Thompson, who died of leukemia in 1976, when he was only 29. He was a good friend, and I went to his funeral in Capron, Oklahoma.

He had a young wife and two small children, and I thought: "Boy, what a terrible thing. I wish there was something we could do." We started the Danny Thompson Memorial golf tournament in Sun Valley, Idaho, not knowing what might happen. Over the last 27 years, we've been giving the funds to the University of Minnesota Leukemia Research Foundation and Mountain States Tumor Institute of Boise, and we've been able to raise 86.1 million for research.

AS: Which was your most memorable home run?

HK: I remember the first one, the last one, and quite a few in between. But my first one was special because I was only 18 years old. We were playing the Detroit Tigers at Griffith Stadium in Washington, and I came to the plate, and it was against a left-handed pitcher by the name of Billy Hoeft, and the catcher was Frank House. When I stepped to the plate, Frank said, "Kid, we're going to throw you a fastball." I didn't know whether he was telling me the truth or not, I was so young and naive.

I wasn't quite sure, but sure enough, here came a fastball, and I hit it 476 feet--probably the longest home run I ever hit in Griffith Stadium. I know how far it was because our PR director went out the next day and checked it off to where it hit in the left-field bleachers. Anyway, as I was coming around the bases, I stepped on home plate and Frank House said, "Kid, that's the last time we're ever going to tell you what's coming." And sure enough, it was. Nobody ever told me what was coming after that.