Most of the third-graders attending last week’s funeral never heard of “Knucksie,” Houston Astros President Tal Smith’s nickname for major-league pitcher Joe Niekro.
And they might not have realized that the rather prominent diamond ring Joe wore represented the fact that he pitched in a World Series.
To them, he was just classmate J.J.’s dad, a big guy with a booming voice, a ready smile and a quick joke. Maybe he liked baseball a little more than some dads. But aren’t lots of dads sports fanatics?
“Hey, mom,” my son informed me one day after school. “Did you know that J.J.’s dad is on a baseball card?”
As I glanced over at the students dressed in matching red St. Stephen Catholic School uniform shirts seated amidst a church filled with current and former major league ball players, coaches and managers, I saluted the Rev. Mike Jurran for focusing on the man, not the career in his eulogy as so much of the national media had done since Joe’s sudden death Oct. 27.
Joe’s older brother, Hall of Fame pitcher Phil Niekro, 67, agreed when we had a chance to speak after the funeral.
“Baseball was his career, not his life,” said Phil.
It could have been any one of us carrying in a bag of groceries or performing some other routine task when a brain aneurysm struck us down. But somehow it seemed even more unfathomable that it was Joe, this vibrant, larger-than-life character who was the center of attention the moment he walked into the room. He enjoyed telling stories, entertaining people with jokes, being the life of the party. As Phil put it: “He enjoyed life.”
And he was especially relishing his retirement years. He and his wife, Debra, would take daily walks around their neighborhood in Walden Lake. He coached J.J.’s baseball team at St. Stephen Catholic School. He kept a close watch on his 27-year-old son Lance’s career as a first baseman with the San Francisco Giants. Whenever Phil visited from Georgia, they’d golf and fish for snook. And Joe was being fitted for a tuxedo so he could walk his daughter, Natalie, down the aisle in December.
His faith played a prominent role in his life, something that brought a great deal of peace to Debra, now left to raise their 8-year-old son alone. Fingering Joe’s giant wedding band she now wears on a chain around her neck, she said she knows she’ll be with him again someday. She’s also comforted knowing that Joe was an organ donor and his gift helped save the lives of others.
With tears in his eyes, Phil said he was always proud of his brother.
“I could tell you a million stories,” he said. “He was such a great guy.”
He recalled the first time they pitched in the major leagues against one another. Phil was with the Atlanta Braves and Joe with the Chicago Cubs. Their father, Phil Sr., flew in for the game and was seated directly behind the umpire. “I think he had a couple of cigars in both hands and he had his eyes glued to the mound,” said Phil.
The Braves won the game. When Phil and Joe called home to tell their mother, Henrietta, she said that’s the way it should be, the older brother should win the first game. “But you let your little brother win next time,” she told Phil.
“I could just see me explaining to the ball club how I have to let my brother win the next game,” Phil said, chuckling. Mom got her way, however. The two brothers pitched against one another nine times in their careers. Joe won five games, Phil four. Coincidentally, the only homerun Joe got during his career was off one of his brother’s pitches.
“I never lived that down,” said Phil.
But I doubt if Joe would consider the baseball stats on ESPN’s Web site his greatest accomplishment. As I hugged Debra and ruffled J.J.’s hair when they walked into church on Sunday, relieved to see them back into their routine, I’d be willing to bet that Joe would say his children are his true legacy.
In the final moments of life, it’s the people you love who matter the most.
“I don’t know how I’ll walk down the aisle without my dad there,” Natalie said.
My heart ached for her, knowing how much Joe looked forward to that day, how he would have cherished that memory.
“Oh, there’s no doubt in my mind. He’ll be there,” I replied.

D’Ann White is editor of The Brandon News.