In ESPN’s list of the top 50 athletes of the 20^th century, 49 of them relied on two legs to help them achieve their athletic glory.  Only one — ranked 35^th of the 50 — relied on four legs, which is usually the case with horses.

But this was not your usual horse.  This was Secretariat, “Big Red” as he was called, arguably the greatest racehorse of all time.  In 1973, when this son of Bold Ruler and Somethingroyal won the Triple Crown, he was the first horse to do so in 25 years, and he set a world record in two of those three races (a malfunctioning clock in the other race, the Preakness, prevented him from setting a record there as well).  In the Kentucky Derby, which he won by 2 and 1/2 lengths, Secretariat crossed the finish line in 1:59.25, becoming the only horse ever to break two minutes.

But it was in the Triple Crown’s final leg, the Belmont Stakes, that Secretariat became a legend by winning in a world-record time of 2:24 and finishing an astonishing 31 lengths ahead of his nearest rival.  The gap between Secretariat and the second-place horse, Twice A Prince, was so wide that CBS Television, which broadcast the race, had to use its widest-angle lens and even then it barely was able to fit the two horses in the same shot.

And history was made. The following week “Big Red” was on the cover of Time, Newsweek, and Sports Illustrated.  That year he earned “Horse of the Year” for the second year in a row. “Big Red” fever became so widespread, the William Morris Agency was hired to oversee his personal appearances.  Not since Seabiscuit in the 1930s had a horse so captured the imagination of America, and the speculation over which of those two magnificent animals would prevail in a head-to-head duel is debated in bars and race tracks even today. Most give the nod to “Big Red.”

After the Belmont Stakes, Secretariat raced six more times, winning four and finishing second twice. In November of ’73 he was retired and put to stud at the Clairborne Farm in Kentucky, and although he sired more than 600 foals in a stud career spanning 16 years, including the 1988 Preakness and Belmont Stakes winner, Risen Star, none of his offspring could ever match the standard he set.

Suffering from the terrible pain of laminitis, a hoof disease, Secretariat was given a lethal injection and died this week (Oct. 4) in 1989.  An autopsy revealed that his heart was more than twice as large as that of the average horse, which only confirmed medically what Secretariat’s legions of fans instinctively had known all along.

Hank Greenberg, the greatest first baseman ever to play for the Detroit Tigers, died this week (Sept. 4) in 1986, and although, statistically, he was among baseball’s greatest hitters ever, statistics are only part of his story.

Not that his statistics aren’t impressive.  He led the American League in home runs and RBIs four times, and hit 331 career home runs.  He was twice voted the American League’s MVP (1935 – 1940), and he led the Tigers to four American League pennants and two World Series titles (1935 – 1945).   But what makes those statistics really impressive is that he amassed them in the equivalent of just nine seasons.

That is because, in 1941, Greenberg was drafted into the Army Air Corps, causing him to miss the 1941 season (he played 19 games), and although he was honorably discharged in December of 1941, when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor later that month, Greenberg voluntarily reenlisted, serving with the 20^th Bomber Command in the Pacific.  It wasn’t until July of 1945 that he returned to baseball, meaning that, all total, he missed nearly four-and-a-half seasons — seasons in which he would have been in his prime.

The other aspect of the Hank Greenberg story is his Jewish heritage.  He was the first Jew inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame, yet his career coincided with a pervasive and vicious anti-Semitism.  Indeed, one of the nation’s most prominent anti-Semites, the “Radio Priest,” Father Charles Coughlin, was based in Detroit, and his radio “sermons” were often non-stop anti-Semitic vitriol.  That vitriol often greeted Greenberg on the diamond, where he was called a “Jew bastard, “kike S.O.B.” and worse by both opposing players and fans.  Greenberg would politely reply by hitting baseballs out of their parks and driving in runs.   From 1937 to 1940 Greenberg averaged 148 RBIs and 43 home runs a season.

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Bill Veeck was the P.T. Barnum of baseball. Better than any baseball owner in history he knew how to put people in the stands. For Veeck no publicity stunt was too bizarre and no promotion was too outlandish.

He also knew how to win. His Milwaukee Brewers — then a minor league team — won three pennants, and when he achieved big league ownership, his Chicago White Sox won a pennant and his Cleveland Indians won a World Series, thanks in part to Larry Doby, whom Veeck signed as the first black player to play in the American League, and the great black pitcher Satchel Paige, whom, at 42, Veeck signed as the league’s oldest rookie.

Veeck’s other innovations include the first exploding scoreboard, the first “giveaways” and the first uniforms with players’ names on them. He staged weddings at home plate and once presented his team’s manager with a left-handed pitcher by having him pop out of a cake.  Veeck also gave baseball, and the world, Harry Caray and his immortal version of “Take Me Out to The Ball Game.”

But Veeck’s most famous stunt occurred this week (Aug. 19) in 1951 when he sent a midget up to pinch-hit for his St. Louis Browns. Eddie Gaedel stood 3’7” tall and when he strode to the plate the crowd let out a collective gasp, as did the plate umpire, who immediately objected. Veeck, however, had shrewdly filed Gaedel’s contract with the American League office late on Friday, knowing it would be perfunctorily approved. He never listed Gaedel’s height.

Powerless to stop a player with a valid contract, the umpires let Gaedel bat and he promptly walked on four pitches. He was quickly replaced by a pinch runner, and although the Browns eventually lost that game, Gaedel and Veeck were the talk of the country. American League President Will Harridge was not amused, however, and barred midgets from ever playing baseball again.

Yet if that was Veeck’s most famous stunt, his most outlandish occurred five days later when he held “Grandstand Manager’s Day.”  Veeck had stadium officials give fans a placard that said “Yes” on one side and “No” on the other, and during the game Veeck’s publicity director flashed cards asking the fans what managerial move the team should make—bunt, steal, bring in a reliever, hit-and-run?—with the team doing whatever the majority of fans voted.

The “grandstand managers” did an excellent job. The Browns won that game 5-3, stopping a four-game losing streak that had begun in the game featuring Eddie Gaedel’s first and only big league appearance.

Bill Veeck died in 1986, having lived a colorful life. He is — are you surprised? — a first-ballot member of the Baseball Hall of Fame.