The Story of Dave Roberts

There have been four players by the name of Dave Roberts who have played in the major leagues. One of them was a pitcher, a left-hander who pitched with some level of success from the late 1960s through the early 1980s. That Dave Roberts, who pitched for the world champion Pirates in 1979, died on Friday morning from lung cancer. He was 64.

Roberts didn’t throw hard; he never collected more than 135 strikeouts in a single season. Still, Roberts found a way. By using good control, limiting the home run ball, and keeping hitters off balance with breaking balls, Roberts made a career for himself. In 1971, pitching for the Padres, he challenged for the National League ERA title. In 1973, he finished tenth in the league’s ERA race as a member of the Astros.

After Roberts lost his effectiveness as a starter, he forged a second career as a middle reliever. He pitched mostly in obscurity in that role until a mid-season trade changed his fortunes. In the midst of the 1979 season, the Giants sent him and Bill “Mad Dog” Madlock to the Pirates in a trade that would have a direct impact on the pennant race. Madlock, a four-time batting champion, collected most of the acclaim and headlines, but Roberts quietly pitched well in middle relief for the Bucs. Along with fellow left-hander Grant Jackson, right-handers Jim Bibby and Enrique Romo, and relief ace Kent Tekulve, Roberts helped form a lockdown five-man bullpen that salted games away from the sixth inning on. Helped in part by that deep and balanced bullpen, the Pirates clinched the NL East. (It was also a unique looking bullpen, with the scraggly-bearded Roberts, the hefty Enrique Romo, and the beanpole-thin Kent Tekulve.) 

As is often the case with middle relievers, Roberts took on a lesser role during the playoffs and World Series. He pitched only one game during the postseason, but nonetheless picked up his first World Series ring as the Pirates won their second title of the decade.

Roberts’ major league career ended two years later, dropping him from baseball’s radar. I didn’t hear much about him again until Friday, when I read about his passing on the Internet. He was a relatively young man, in his early sixties and less than 30 years retired from his playing days. His death might not have occurred if he had played ball in a later era. Like many commonplace players of the 1970s, Roberts didn’t become a millionaire through free agency or arbitration. He had to work a second job–during the off season. For much of his career, that job consisted of working in a boilermaker plant, where he was exposed to asbestos over and over again. It’s believed that prolonged asbestos exposure led directly to the lung cancer that claimed his life.

Most players today don’t have to work during the winter. Therefore, most do not have to expose themselves to unsafe employment conditions. But the ability to forego the winter workplace is a relatively recent development, a trend that really began in the 1980s. The tragic story of Dave Roberts reminds us that for most of the game’s history, ballplayers were more like us, not pampered and just as vulnerable. And, as always, they are just as mortal.