On Wednesday January 12, 2011 The Animals of Section B lost their "Zookeeper", and I lost a friend that I'd known since I was a teen. He died tragically young at 38. Here's what I posted to the Animals web site:
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| Drew Hankin |
Some people were closer friends with Drew Hankin than I was, but I did know him since he was a kid in the single-digits of age. I didn’t speak at his memorial because so many people wanted to speak and it probably would have gone on for hours longer if everyone did. But, I wanted to post my story of having known Drew partly for myself, partly for his family, partly for others, but mainly for him. Forgive me if it seems a little long-winded, but I think you need to get a good idea who I was to understand how knowing Drew changed me.
We all have a tendency to idealize people after they are gone. I’d rather remember people for who they really were - as much as I can. So, though I hope my words won’t offend anyone, I do owe it to Drew to call it like I see it.
Those of us who knew Drew knew he could be a polarizing personality. What I mean is, if you knew him you probably either really liked him or really didn’t. But, even those on the side of “didn’t” usually respected him not only for his knowledge and appreciation of the game of baseball, but for his endless efforts to support and promote and be involved in Florida State baseball.
I’m a transplant. Almost immediately after my 12th birthday I was unceremoniously taken from my childhood home in a small town in the great white north to sunny Tallahassee (I didn’t protest a whole lot, really). I soon learned more about the Civil War than I ever cared to know, and I learned what a Yankee is, and the difference between a Yankee and a “Damned Yankee”. Turns out I am the latter. But, being in my late 40’s and having now lived the vast majority of my life in Tallahassee, some folks are starting to think I’m not so bad. And my tongue isn’t forked after all.
Where I came from, football was the most important thing ever, particularly Green Bay Packer football. It wasn’t so much a sport as a religion. Baseball was nearly as irrelevant to me as a kid as hopscotch. So it’s no surprise that I started attending FSU football games just about as soon as I had an opportunity. In Fall of 1975 you could wait 10 or 15 minutes in the parking lot then walk into the stadium for free. Everyone who was going to buy a ticket had bought one by then. And you’d get pretty amazingly good seats. Of course, the football team was pretty sad that year. But it was football and I could go for free. I got to watch the beginning of the Bowden years from close up.
Around late ‘76 or early ‘77 my parents got tired of renting and bought a home in a northwest subdivision that had been partially built and then gone bankrupt. The people directly across the street had a son Steve around my age and we hit it off. His father turned out to be the head of undergrad music studies at FSU. So, even though most people could no longer get into FSU football games for free, I got to march in with the Marching Chiefs and sit in front of them at roughly the 35 yard line for a few years. You get the idea. I was a huge FSU football fan. I did notice the baseball stadium across Pensacola St. and though it was much smaller, it seemed to get pretty rowdy! But that’s as far as my curiosity went. Enough about football…
We weren’t in the new house long before the place diagonally across the street from us sold, and a family from New Jersey moved in. They had four kids. Their oldest, Jeff, was several years older than me. He was fun to talk to about computers , especially those early computer games that were played using text printouts. The next oldest, Wendy, was only a year younger than me. Unfortunately for her, she soon became the focus of one of my earliest crushes. The next youngest, Richie, was a couple years younger than me, but he was fun to hang out with because he was completely fired up about everything he talked about. And like me and Steve, he really, really loved Rock& Roll. Especially Bad Company.
Then there was little Andy. He was the little guy (single-digits in age) who wanted to tag along whenever Richard and Wendy came out to hang around with us. He was a little bit skinny, pretty quiet most of the time and always curious to find out what we were into and learn all he could about it. As tag-along little brothers go, he was pretty great.
Occasionally when Jeff was out of town his parents would ask me to “babysit” so they could attend some event. None of the kids ever gave me the slightest hassle, least of all Andy. We all shared some highs and lows as friends do. Steve and I occasionally snuck into the Hankin pool at night when they were asleep, mostly because we shouldn’t. Once there was a fire in their home and the Hankin family lost their dog and most personal belongings. Quite a few of them spent the night at my home that night, Andy included if I remember right.
Fast-forward through my years of trying to work my way through college at FSU in the 80’s. I lost touch with most of my childhood friends. I did actually attend an FSU baseball game in those days, but probably no more than once or twice. Mostly it was still about football, including intramural football. I graduated in the late 80’s (a bit tardy), and started working computer jobs. In 1994 my company hired Danielle Disston (now Nelson). At some point she started attending FSU baseball games and then got involved with The Animals. I of course “knew of” the Animals, as did any FSU grad, but I didn’t really know anyone involved with them until Dani. She coaxed me to come to a baseball game and sit with the Animals, and I figured what the hell. I don’t know much about baseball, really. You hit a ball with the bat and run around bases, while the other guys try to catch the ball and get you out. That’s just about the whole game, right? Really slow, but an okay way to kill an afternoon I suppose. Especially if I would get to sit with the Animals! That had to be interesting.
Well, I get to the game and it turns out that I do know someone else in the Animals. Little Andy Hankin is all grown up and he prefers to be called “Drew” now. He goes out of his way to make me feel welcome, as of course does Dani, Andres, a guy named John and maybe a few others. Not everyone. It was clearly a close-knit group and I was an outsider. Fortunately since I was friends with Drew & Dani I was assumed to be basically okay.
I went to a lot of games that season, and I began to realize how completely ignorant I had been about baseball. It wasn’t just “hit ball with stick and run around bases” at all. It was an amazingly strategic game, with much more psychological sub-play going on than I ever dreamed. More strategy and psychology than football, really! This changed my perspective completely and I began to really try to understand the game.
Not only that, the Animals turned out to be a blast. With their bawdy cheers, songs, superstitious traditions like “Oh, Canada”, and their constant attempts to get into the heads of opposing players and coaches and mess with their game…and let’s not forget their ability to get FSU fans fired up….well, The Animals are a complete trip! I realized I was going to have to start boning up on literature and current events just to get half the jokes. That year Drew, Danni and Andres all went out of their way to make me feel like I really did belong in the group. Somehow, a lot seemed to center around Drew, though.
Late that season people were making plans to attend the ACC tournament in Durham. I decided that sounded fun, so I went with some friends and we all stayed in the same hotel with the team and the Animals. If that baseball season got me to take the bait, then that tournament set the hook. I had a blast.
Attending the games in the Bulls stadium was cool unto itself (Hit Bull, Win Steak!). I got into the elevator the 2nd morning to head to the stadium and there was Coach Martin, Chip and some of the others. We chatted about the teams and the games for that day, and they were incredibly nice. I noticed that they spoke to me almost as if they knew me rather than as if I were just some stranger that had intruded on their morning.
Nick Whidden and his twin brother Chris were pitching that year, but Nick was on injured reserve and he ended up sitting with us and going to lunch in some local pub with us. I threw darts against an FSU pitcher….not too smart, even against an injured one. One evening I found myself drinking in the hotel bar with some of the players’ parents, who were larger than life characters in their own right.
I was totally converted. I wasn’t just a transplant geographically. I was also a baseball transplant. I had enjoyed baseball so much that year that I realized it was just as much fun as I’d ever had as a football fan, and in many ways more fun. I had seen the light --- the light of Seminole baseball.
Though Drew was certainly not the only one who converted me to baseball fan, I think he did the most. It was while riding in the car with him and Danielle that I realized that he had a vision for the Animals which went far beyond where they were at that time. I was there to see the expression on his face when it dawned on him that he wanted to become the next Zookeeper. Well, he did just that. And every time he told me about something that had happened, when he’d had the privilege to speak with Coach Martin or one of the players , or the administration, or Lee Bowen, …his eyes lit up like a little kid at Christmas. Or maybe Hanukkah. He was still little Andy when something like that happened.
I still remember the look on his face when he told me about the administration from another university having called him to ask if the Animals would come and cheer one of their teams games to show their fans how it’s done. I was also fortunate enough to be at the ’99 Regional Tourney for the mass euphoria after the famous Providence game against JU. The Animals got ticked off at the way the Providence team was being treated in what really SHOULD have been their last game ever, and we picked up en masse and migrated to right behind the Providence dugout to cheer them to a victory they had completely given up on. It was hard to forget and impossible to describe the feeling that we had that day. We had witnessed what a difference the Animals can really make, and we had done a fine thing for a deserving group of kids as well.
Here’s one of the key differences between Drew and I: I got a degree in something I seemed to enjoy that I knew would earn me a decent living. I didn’t do what I truly loved. Drew was in endless pursuit of doing what he loved. And he loved it so much that he couldn’t help but succeed. Plenty of others have already spoken to the amazing evolution of the Animals of Section B during his time as Zookeeper.
But, the other thing that Drew loved was people. His family and friends were top priority, even before baseball. If one of his friends were in the hospital, he’d be one of the first to visit. He didn’t like to have to ask you for anything, but he sure did like to do things for you. He loved life and he had a big, giant heart. Too big to be contained in just one body.
I heard a little belatedly when Drew did his own stint in the hospital back in Fall ‘09. He happened to be there at the same time as Steve Ellis, the late senior sports writer for the Tallahassee Democrat. Before Steve passed away he received a visit from Drew, and they talked about how they needed to make some changes in their lives to make their own health a higher priority. Steve passed away shortly after that, and we were all saddened by his loss. Drew had been profoundly touched by that experience. He had started to make some changes for the sake of his health. I’m deeply sorry that those changes didn’t happen soon enough.
Drew would have been completely touched and very flattered by the outpouring of love during his memorial. And I’m sure he would appreciate the various efforts to memorialize him. I know he’s thrilled that the “B” is finally permanently painted on the section post. In my head I can hear his voice saying, “I had to die to get this done???!!!”
But, the thing that would mean the most to him is that we learn from his experience. If we want to memorialize him, then those of us who have not made our own health a top priority need to seriously consider making changes. And I mean like, NOW! TODAY! His lesson for us is that there’s no time to waste. Personally, I can tell you that since the news of his passing I’ve been eating an awful lot of salads. And I’m beginning to make changes in my all-too-sedentary lifestyle.
As some have suggested, a baseball scholarship in his name would be quite a fitting tribute to him. But, our support of an organization that is fighting something along the lines of childhood obesity would mean a lot more to him. I may not have been as close a friend to him as some, but that is one thing I am very certain of.
