By FRED KRONER
Surely I’m not the only person who associates memories of athletic teams by one or two individuals rather than by the entire group.
When identifying the 2016 World Champion Chicago Cubs, I think first of Kris Bryant and Anthony Rizzo even though there were nearly two dozen other players on the playoff roster.
For the University of Illinois’ last Final Four team in basketball, I associate Dee Brown and Deron Williams with that 2004-05 squad although they were only two-fifths of the starting lineup.
Similarly, when I remember back to the Mahomet-Seymour boys’ basketball teams of the early 1970s, the names that first come to mind are Tom Bernett and Steve Rinkel.
Doing so is certainly unfair to a host of other key contributors such as Craig Anderson, Scott Cekander, Dana Dale, Galen Dale, Greg Leenerman, Tom Lindsey and Mark Reynolds, plus a few others who have certainly slipped my mind over the decades.
Those teams come to mind again with the news that Tom Bernett, 67, passed away on Monday (Sept. 13) at home.
He was the original of what could best be described as “a character.”
Bernett had a wry smile, a drawl that made even a 10-word sentence take 30 seconds to complete and the ability to bash a softball prodigious distances.
There was a comic strip I enjoyed reading as a child, “Mutt and Jeff.” It was a staple in many newspapers until the early 1980s.
Tom Bernett had a younger brother, Jeff. For as long as I can remember, Tom was known as “Mutt.” Like in the comic strip, he was the taller of the two.
I always assumed his moniker came from the comic strip, but we never actually discussed it.
I do know he embraced the name. Bernett would call me occasionally, usually to ask, “How could (fill in a coach’s name) use that strategy?” or “Did you see that game last night?”
The phone calls would always start the same way.
Before caller-ID was a thing, I would say hello and wonder who was on the other end. He would respond, “It’s Mutt.”
My wife and I saw him in the parking lot at the Mahomet IGA about 18 years ago. It was late afternoon and he had just finished watching a baseball game on television.
He had a serious question.
The announcers had said some player whom I have long since forgotten had hit a home run that traveled 400 feet.
“How do they know it was 400 feet and not 399,” Bernett wondered.
I was aware of what was then new technology used to measure distances and flight trajectories, but I couldn’t answer his specific question. I knew it was possible, but I couldn’t explain how it worked in detail.
The conversation took a turn when he asked if I remembered the day he hit the longest foul ball in the history of the Eastern Illinois Baseball League, which has now been in existence for 86 years.
As fate would have it, I was covering that Sunday afternoon ball game at Rantoul’s north-side Knights of Columbus Field. Bernett was playing for the Farmer City E.I. entry, coached by another one of my favorite characters, Carlos Burton.
Batters at the K of C park hit in a southwesterdly direction. Just to the east of the ball diamond is a set of railroad tracks, ones that are still used on Amtrak routes into and back from Chicago.
On this particular afternoon, the left-handed hitting Bernett fouled off a pitch at the exact moment a southbound train was going past.
As I recall, there was an open car and the ball Bernett hit plopped squarely in the middle of it.
To the disappointment of the youngsters who received a quarter for every ball returned, this was a lost opportunity.
For Bernett – who was the E.I. home run champion in 1976 – it was another highlight.
After the game, he told me, “I bet that ball makes it to Memphis. It will be the longest foul ball in E.I. history.”
Of course, there were no fact-checkers then, but it makes for a good story.
So, too, does one from Bernett’s high school days. The M-S basketball coach strongly encouraged all of his players who weren’t playing football or golf to go out for cross-country in the fall (which he happened to coach) to help them get in shape.
There is a story I have heard about Bernett too many times from too many different sources to doubt its accuracy. Unless, of course, you believe in huge conspiracies.
The Bernett family lived on West Main Street. On days the cross-country athletes did their long training runs, they ran directly past his residence.
The tale is that Bernett – who was never known as the fastest Bulldog – would maintain a position near the back of the pack, and then make a stop at his home while the rest of the team continued running westward.
While snacking or watching a bit of TV, he would keep a watchful eye for their return and would then regain his position at the rear of the pack.
Raise your eyes if you want. I knew Bernett. If he didn’t do it, then it certainly sounds like something he would have done.
Bernett averaged a double-double in basketball his senior season at M-S (16.7 points and 12.0 rebounds) before his prep career was cut short by a knee injury after 10 games. He was also the team’s top free throw marksman, hitting 75 percent of his 62 attempts.
Playing basketball and hitting baseballs weren’t the only areas where Bernett was proficient.
I wrote a story for The News-Gazette in the 1990s after he had reached the 1,000 mark for career softball home runs, starting with Lu and Denny’s but playing predominantly for English Brothers, which was one of the premier teams in Champaign-Urbana’s Buck Winterbottom League as well as a force on the state scene.
English Brothers had a plethora of outstanding players – which is probably why the teams collectively are headed to the state Hall of Fame on Oct. 2 – but when you think of players who had the greatest longevity as team leaders, Bernett’s name is right there with Mike Boudreau, Andy Dixon, Greg Garland, Steve Rinkel, Jeff (Rocky) Ryan, Kurt Steger, Dave Suttle, Steve Ward, and Bart Wills as ones who would headline the list of all-time greats.
Since the English Brothers organization was notified of their selection for induction into the state Hall of Fame, Bernett is the third squad member who has passed away. Ward and Wills are also deceased, but all three knew about the recognition, which was originally set to take place in October, 2020 and then delayed until April, 2021, but is now rescheduled for October, 2021.
Bernett’s milestone home run feat was well-documented.
He arrived at the newspaper interview with a well-used spiral notebook, pages bent, tattered and stained. It included dates, park location and other highlights (such as weather conditions) for each of his 1,000 homers.
You could tell the entries were written at different times, using different pens or pencils.
Rinkel recalls talking to Bernett about becoming more focused on power hitting.
“He was the best power hitter around, but always worried more about his batting average,” Rinkel said. “I told him to hit the long ball even if it took a few points off of his average.
“I hit for average, but I’m not a power-hitting legend. He’s remembered for his mammoth home runs, not a single to keep his average up.
“For someone like me, who could only dream of hitting a ball that far, I never understood his fascination with batting average. Mutt had amazing hitting skills.”
If anyone in Champaign-Urbana area softball has ever clobbered more home runs, it hasn’t come to my attention – and I think it would have as that person would want to celebrate the accomplishment.
It is also well-documented that years before major league baseball teams started employing shifts for certain pull hitters, softball teams were treating Bernett with that respect.
“He could hit to left field,” recalled Terry Holleman, the long-time English Brothers manager, “but he was so hard-headed, he wouldn’t.”
Bernett was often used as the extra hitter in softball.
“He didn’t care about playing defense,” Holleman said. “All he wanted to do was hit, hit, hit.”
Even in his spare time, Bernett would make regular appearances at Taylor Field, in Mahomet, with a bucket of balls. He was joined by an assortment of youngsters eager to make a buck by retrieving the balls he hit and returning them to him.
For some people, the stories of their prowess and quirks grow with the years. For some reason, the stories about Tom Bernett remain consistent, no matter who is recounting the event or how many years have passed.
This story has made the rounds. Fact or fiction? If you knew Bernett, you wouldn’t doubt that it was possible.
During one softball game, he was running the bases when he stopped and leaned over before advancing to the next base. His teammates were in disbelief and, when the inning ended, asked what had happened.
Matter-of-factly, Bernett told them there was some change in the base paths and he stopped to pick up the coins.
One point is indisputable.
“He was one of the best slow-pitch softball hitters ever in this area,” Holleman said.
I worked with Tom Bernett for more than a decade at UIUC, long after some of his best stories were made. He was an incredible source of amusement to me and probably an equal frustration to those who didn’t get him. We traded stories, swapped books and movies, and had a lifetime worth of conversations in that time. His memory was incredible.