On the day of Rusty Staub’s passing, the Mets legend was remembered not only as a winner, but a champion of causes from players’ rights to police and…
On the day of Rusty Staub’s passing, the Mets legend was remembered not only as a winner, but a champion of causes from players’ rights to police and firefighters.
Staub — who died Thursday morning at the age of 73 — was a feared lefty bat, but so much more. His charity has raised tens of millions of dollars, providing meals and support to families of first responders killed in the line of duty. FDNY Uniformed Fire Officers Association president Jake Lemonda called Staub’s philanthropic work a home run.
“Rusty was an incredible person, a fan favorite. But more important, when it came to the care and consideration he showed to widows and children, he knocked it out of the park,” Lemonda told The Post. “He was relentless in doing whatever he could to raise funds for the widows and children of both the police and fire departments.
“It comes from his love of New York, and being such a part of it. It was a way for him to give back. It was just his dedication and his passion.”
That passion extended to his doggedness when negotiating a new deal for himself, or sticking up for younger teammates. He held out early in the 1968 season and became a leading figure at the onset of the MLB Players Association.
“He will also be remembered by the fraternity of players as a smart, tireless advocate on their behalf who helped build the Major League Baseball Players Association and stood at the forefront of the fight for player rights,” MLBPA executive director Tony Clark said in a statement.
“Upon retirement, he devoted himself through his foundation to helping the widows and children of police officers and firefighters killed in the line of duty. Rusty will be missed, but the legacy of his humanity and compassion will live on.”
Staub — who hit 292 homers in 23 seasons, nine of those seasons with the Mets — didn’t hold his tongue in advising young teammates, or going to bat for them. In the early 1980s, when Mets general manager Frank Cashen tried to prevent a young Ron Darling from living in the city, Staub spoke up.
“When I was a young player, I wanted to live in the city… but the Mets said no, I certainly could not live in the city. They were telling me where I could live,” Darling said. “Rusty marched into Frank’s office and said not only can he live wherever he wants to live, but that he would watch me and take care of me and make sure that I was ready every fifth day. He didn’t need to do that. He barely knew me.”
Staub didn’t need to, but he chose to. That was the character of the man.
