Fans, friends mourn the loss of Braves slugger Bob Horner

Bob Horner died this week. He was only 68. The death of the former slugging Braves third baseman has touched many in our region. 

Credit: Dale Murphy

Dale Murphy eloquently penned on social media, "He was a unique talent, and I was very lucky to be in the lineup with him most of my career. All my numbers were better when he was hitting behind me. And that fact is not lost on me. I know my career was better because of him."

Together in the Braves batting order, crushing power, and a charismatic 1-2 punch. 

When I arrived in the early 1980s, Bob Horner and Dale Murphy were a metaphoric Mantle and Maris of the South.

Two of the region's greatest power hitting, shining sports stars, riding the Superstation to national acclaim. Think of one, think of the other.

If you weren’t here, I can’t express what a big deal Horner was (you know about Murphy). Bob was low-key, seemingly introverted, possessing a high voice, but always kind and willing to chat (with prodding). 

Credit: Dale Murphy

Memories of Horner, his citizen-like body (deceptively like Greg Maddux), the light blue sand knit jersey, and his unbelievable talent to hit a baseball and pound home runs.

Remember the Padres brawl? His actions “to protect Pascual?” The four-home run game. Or never playing an inning in the minor leagues.

When he injured his wrist, we all became experts on the subject.

Atlanta local television was rife with navicular bone demonstrations from orthopedic surgeons.

“….Dr. Charles Smith, thanks for joining us tonight, tell our viewers….”

Bob once showed me a contraption with sand in a bottle that would aid his wrist rehabilitation. Sadly, he never totally recovered from the surgery and in the late 1980s his signing with the Yokult Swallows of the Japanese League became a sensation.

We showed highlights nightly of Japanese baseball. I remember seeing Yokult Swallow hats at Lenox Square.

Bob was a fun, unforgettable Atlanta athlete, impressive numbers always, but a lot more. 

My Facebook page has accrued 300,000 views from Braves fans checking out a short essay I wrote on Bob's career in Atlanta.

The death of a seminal athlete impacts all of us. We recall our youth, remembering Bob playing for the Braves, either in person, or on radio, or on our television sets with WTBS.

Credit: Dale Murphy

Close your eyes, Horner seems eternally 33 years old, clutching a bat,  facing National League pitching. But we know better: a graying grandfather in his late 60s, now gone. 

We didn't see much of the retired Horner; he lived decades in Texas. I've always wondered: Later in his Atlanta career, he was catching a lot of boos, catcalls about his weight here. Bob had voiced dismay about fan treatment privately.

Maybe that was still an issue years later.

Horner is lost in the fog of 1980s Braves teams that weren't very good and would soon be overshadowed by the 1990's teams.

Despite injuries and those bad teams, Horner's legend stands tall: a spectacular talent, one of the greatest collegiate (Arizona State) baseball players ever, and with a soaring Atlanta Braves presence not to be forgotten.

Dale Murphy and Bob Horner will forever be linked together. "It’s been a hard few weeks for the Braves Family losing Ted (Turner) and Bobby (Cox)—and now Bob. These 3 men all had such a profound impact on my career. I am forever grateful," Murphy said in a social post.

Such sad news (again).

Horner and Murphy.

Oh Yeah!