(Former Chicago White Sox broadcaster Ed Farmer passed Wednesday night in Los Angeles. He was 70 and was an industry favourite of many — myself included — whether he was playing, scouting or broadcasting. Thanks to fellow South Sider/Okotoks Life Saver Lou Pote for reminding us we should pay tribute to Farmer’s brilliance.)

Originally published Aug. 18, 2012

By Bob Elliott

Canadian Baseball Network

Most at the Hyatt Rosemont O’Hare hotel for the 1990 winter meetings remember it for one thing: Blue Jays executive Howard Starkman stepping to the microphone and announcing loudly: “The Toronto Blue Jays have traded Tony Fernandez and Fred McGriff to the San Diego Padres … for Joe Carter and Robbie Alomar.”

Managers Tommy Lasorda, Frank Robinson and Bobby Valentine, who had wandered over from across the hall, applauded the old-fashioned baseball trade.

I’ll remember that winter meetings for that deal which changed the fortunes of the Jays and a few days earlier when the Jays obtained Devon White from the California Angels.

Yet, I’ll never forget being on the second floor one night and passing upon an ill Ed Farmer, then a Baltimore Orioles scout.

“Come here for a second,” Farmer said, “I want you to meet the man who is going to save my life — my brother Tommy.”

Farmer was in need of a new kidney.

Tommy gave him one of his in a surgery performed at Harvard Medical School.

The Chicago White Sox broadcaster and I sat in the first base dugout Tuesday night at the Rogers Centre remembering that night almost 22 years ago and other nights. (“Don’t write about it now, wait ’til I get out of town,” Farmer said).

Farmer recalled his mom Marilyn, lawn chair against the screen on a playground on the south side of Chicago watching her son playing peewee. How the night Farmer’s team, the mighty Eagles, were losing by a run, with two out and Bobby Wyatt at the plate. Each player had to play one inning.

Wyatt had polio and wore braces like Forest Gump in the movie.

Farmer stood in the on-deck circle when Marilyn called “Edward” to the screen and said “Bobby will walk, I want you to hit the ball over the right fielder’s head, now go and do it Edward.”

Farmer tried to recall the last time Wyatt got on base.

Wyatt did walk and the lanky Farmer hit the ball over the right fielder’s head like mom requested.

“I’m running the bases and I know I can’t touch him, can’t pass him or I’m out — my father told me the rules,” he said. “I realize that I’m 5-foot-2 at eight years old and their right fielder is about 3-foot-6. No way he’s going to get the ball back in time.”

Farmer was behind Wyatt whispering “Don’t fall down Bobby, take your time.”

Both scored and the game was won.

“I’m thinking my mom knows everything,” Farmer said.

The mighty Eagles hoisted Wyatt onto their shoulders.

Good story?

“Eight years ago I get a note in the booth … from Bobby Wyatt,” Farmer said.

The note read “I’m in the club section, thanks for making me feel like everyone else that one night.”

As an organ recipient Farmer has spoken at Harvard, before the House of Representative on polycystic kidney disease. Farmer says it is the No. 1 genetically inherited disease.

“My blood work was so bad I had about three more days of life before I got the dialysis machine,” he said.

Now, he visits labs on trips into Boston to see scientists and researchers work with zebra fish.

Farmer recalled attending a shiva in New York in 1963, as an 13-year-old. His father told their mom to take the boys where ever they wanted.

Marilyn pulled her car onto the curb outside Yankee Stadium and banged on a metal door, which happened to lead to bullpen in left.

Eventually a man lifted the door. Marilyn asked the man to allow her three sons to see inside Yankee Stadium.

The guard said no chance. He was new to the job. He wasn’t getting fired.

“Let my oldest son in, he’s going to pitch here some day,” Marilyn said offering $20. Still the guard, who had three fingers missing on one hand, refused giving a New York answer “he can see inside when he pitches here.”

Eight years later Farmer was a rookie coming out of Alvin Dark’s bullpen with the 1971 Cleveland Indians. In those days a golf cart took relievers to the mound.

Farmer, 21, was about to climb in, ready to pitch in his seventh big-league game in an 11-year career.

Farmer looked at the man’s hand on the wheel. He was missing three fingers.

“You’re the same guy who wouldn’t let me in here eight years ago,” Farmer said. “You wouldn’t let me in then, you’re not taking me onto the field now.”

So, he ran in to face Bobby Murcer.

The guard’s name was Frank Rizzo from Yonkers and over the years Farmer and he became good friends.

Nothing like his brother Tommy though.

Tommy gave the gift of life.

Good stories and a better message: be a organ donor.