Recent grad now spokesman for Baseball Hall of Fame

You’re nothing in baseball without a statistic.

Actually, to be more precise, you’re close to nothing if you only have one statistic, or merely a few, to describe your game. The “haves” in baseball can dissect and define their career in a myriad of numerical manners. The fewer the stats, the lesser the career. Statistics are to baseball what moons are to planets in our solar system: The more you have, like Jupiter, the larger you are. At least metaphorically.

For example: of the home runs hit by San Francisco Giants into McCovey Cove, 34 of the 44 that have gotten wet were propelled by Barry Bonds’ lumber. A modest 700+ others will likely endear or endanger his reputation to sports fans for time immemorial. Even if Bonds, fresh off of eventually shattering the career homerun mark, finishes his career hitting like Mario Mendoza (who statistically single-handedly defined mediocrity), his merits and those like him will be the fodder of sports banter for eons.

And these statistics, if they live a good, long life, eats lots of vegetables, and avoid Victor Conte’s personal records, become deified in the shrine of statistical shrines – The Baseball Hall of Fame. This month, two of the heaviest of heavies will become deservedly placed within baseball’s Pantheon. Tony Gwynn, one of the greatest statistical batters ever, and Cal Ripken Jr., one of the most statistically durable, will rub elbows with the greats of the game, among them the Schieffer School’s own Bradford Horn.

Horn, the director of communications for the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, graduated from TCU in 1998 and has seemingly been throwing nothing but strikes throughout his career. “Frog,” as he’s known in several lackluster circles, has been “mowing them down,” as it were, since he arrived on campus in 1994 as a freshman from Houston. Yet, ironically, his career remains ungaudied with trivial statistics. He just seems to be placing more Ks on the scorecard as each inning of his life continues. Just keep knocking one after another out of the park.

(NOTE: Baseball euphemisms, it appears, can – like statistics – be overused to define damn near anything. We’ll endeavor away from said clichés for the remainder of our time today, but focus yet on what has been a great day in the sun for an early Horned Frog career.)

Frog showed up in the Skiff newsroom sometime in August of 1994 with a goal in mind to have a career in journalism. He had a byline before class started that fall, and figured that he was on his way.

“I still remember the story,” he said. “‘Sullivan Still Has Support of Alumni’ about the then-Frog football coach Pat Sullivan. I envisioned joining Dan Jenkins, Bud Shrake and Jerre Todd as a new generation of sportswriter, and I had that focus from Day One. I can't remember a single class from that first semester, but I sure loved the Skiff.”

Your humble Exes president was a reporting class fella covering Horned Frog Football by choice and the International Student Association as a beat. Naturally, along with Dave Jimenez, John Lumpkin and some others, I spent most of my time talking sports with Frog. We named him, affectionately, “The Upstart Brad Horn” in the weekly football poll after he ill-advisedly upstaged his elders one week while picking games. But his place among the guys was entrenched, and I enjoyed his company enough to spend another two semesters writing for the Skiff while my mother wished I’d have simply graduated on time.

Frog set out rather quickly, however, defining his work ethic, which invariably has helped define his remarkable career. While an undergraduate, he began interning for the now-defunct Fort Worth Fire hockey team. He interned so well as a freshman that the general manager called him his sophomore year and offered him a bill of goods job description.

“Hey Horn Frog,” Brad remembered Matt from the Fire saying, “how would you like to do our PR? We'll pay you $150 a week and you can work 20 to 30 hours or so."

“Well, I worked, like 50 hours a week, while taking a full class load,” Brad said. He learned then and there that there was no such thing in sports as a part-time, or even 40-hour-per-week gig. “My GPA plummeted like the stock market on Black Monday. A
couple of TCU professors were preparing their fare-thee-well speeches. But others were incredibly supportive...Tommy Thomson, Doug Newsom among them. I learned on the job because I had classroom teaching that was sound. Plus, a few lessons learned at The Pub and other Fort Worth establishments in between.”

Spoken like a born sports writer.

But it wasn’t enough. Frog then interned for the Texas Rangers and the venerable John Blake, who now runs the PR operation for the Boston Red Sox. His career, once directed toward sports writing, had taken a turn toward PR. So, Frog had it semi-pegged when looking up to icons Jerre Todd and Dan Jenkins, only he wound up following more closely in the footsteps of noted PR man Todd, who was inducted last year in the Schieffer School Hall of Excellence.

So dedicated to his mission(s) was Horn that he risked cardiac arrest by maintaining a full class load while juggling minor league hockey and major league baseball PR gigs. Frog reflected on the insanity with the knowledge and confidence that really only be obtained by one who’s been there and done that twice as much as someone else.

“Again, it was a life experience,” he said. “Double-dipping (or triple-dipping, really) between school, the Fire (in the fall and spring) and the Texas Rangers (the late-spring through early fall) during my sophomore and junior years almost killed me, but I was young and that work ethic I learned, I still have in my bones today. I did semi-burn out at age 25 with the Rangers (as the asst PR director, traveling with the team), but it led me to another life experience that defines who I am today.”

While not every aspiring sports hack could maintain such a lifestyle, Horn still offers the encouragement that a manager might give a September call-up. You can almost see him with a lowered palm clap, a pat on the butt, an expectorant release of a used sunflower seed and a “go get ‘em” message when he says: “So, never pass an opportunity that will give you a chance to grow.”

And grow he did. Following the Rangers PR run, Frog bit the poison apple that has lured many toward a middle class tax bracket and left sports PR for (gasp) corporate PR. Barely a quarter-century old, young Brad Horn bid adieu to all that had defined his life and motivations for the past several years, and it was so rewarding that he stuck with it for several months.

Fortunately, during the Stars Stanley Cup run of ‘99, Frog was pondering an offer to get back into sports. This opportunity came from states away and in a completely different field: motor sports. But, it was in Indianapolis, and you can never go wrong working in motor sports in the state of Indiana.

You’ll never go right, either…which is a little joke for you oval racing fans still paying attention.

That fortunate decision allowed Horn to return to a pursuit of passion, while also allowing him to maintain relationships with his friends in the American League. Through his freelance work in the American League Championship Series, he got a contact regarding his interest in working for the Baseball Hall of Fame. So, like many other careers, the road twisted and turned, and familiar faces resurfaced along the way, but we have caught up with our man at what is currently a dream job around a sport he loves.

“I sucked at sports as a kid,” Horn said, “though I just got a base hit in my over-30 baseball league, the first base hit I've had in about 20 years. But I loved baseball. Collected cards, went to games, try to hit the ball off the tee.”

Through the contacts from the Rangers and continuing to work through the ALCS, Frog got his gig where he’s at today.

“Providing Media Notes for ALCS - It's an honor I've had since 1999 - and every year, I take care of the things you see on TV or hear during the broadcast,” said Horn. “For instance: ‘Derek Jeter is the first guy to hit in 12 straight postseason games since Reggie Jackson in 1977.’ I work those games for a dear friend, Major League Baseball's senior vice president Phyllis Merhige, and having that honor year in and year out is awesome. Along with working the World Series for baseball. Seeing the Astros in the first World Series game in Texas was about as good as it gets.”

He’s had a pretty good run in Cooperstown as well. I can remember talking with Frog when he was contemplating the move to the Hall of Fame. I think his mind was already made to go, but he was probably out soliciting some “what the hell are you even thinking about this for? It’s a no-brainer” advice…which I was obligated to provide. Now one of nearly 3,000 Cooperstown residents – and a property owner at that – Frog has been able to really leave his mark on the Hall with some of his accomplishments.

“Representing the Hall of Fame in the role I have is a large reward in itself,” he said. “I am a big fan of baseball history and I have some pretty amazing duties in Cooperstown. To be a primary spokesman for a national treasure is something that's hard to believe. Building relationships – and friendships – with Hall of Famers is a bit surreal.”

He expounded on those duties a bit, defining what goes on inside the working walls at one of sports’ holiest of Meccas.

“Above all, our institution is about excellence. Everything we do has to be above reproach,” said Horn. “That said, we are a small staff with an ambitious desire. Balancing that service requirement with the need to do more and excel is extremely challenging.

“Among my duties fall media relations, publications, web site, community relations, club relations, artifact acquisition and understanding people and using interest-based negotiations are paramount to what I do. Listening and reflecting. Meeting people's needs.”

Imagine trying to pry a valuable Home Run ball from an outfielder – who will remain nameless – in a series that defined a championship, when the ball needed to be enshrined in the Hall of Fame vs. being sold on eBay. Throw in the player barely spoke English and was celebrating in the moment. The story has a happy ending, of course. Frog got the ball, but not without stepping out of the batter’s box to adjust his approach.

Sorry…that cliché kind of slipped in there.

“Hall of Fame Weekend is a beast of its own. Four days of fanfare and celebration. We have to make that day the best experience for 50 Hall of Famers and the new inductees...the highlight of the year. As we brace for 50,000 visitors, 1200 media and 500 VIPs at the end of July, every “i” must be dotted, every “t” crossed to ensure the experience is a great one.”

Horn has knocked out a few other notable achievements, which have brought notoriety and prominence to the Hall. Chief among them, he thought, was the creation of a membership benefit publication taking the story of the Hall and its treasures to the members of the Hall of Fame support group.

“Launching Hall of Fame's magazine was also a big milestone,” he added. “I'm really proud of it. We are in our 5th year now, and our membership program has gone from 10,000 to 25,000 during that time. As the primary benefit of Hall of Fame membership, the magazine has something do with that, I hope.”

He has even been able, through all of the baseball work, to approach the end of his master’s degree in communication management from Syracuse University. Frog has in mind to teach some day, he said, which is not that different than what he does for legions of baseball fans year in and year out at the Baseball Hall of Fame. When I asked him if he ever thought about what the future held for him, he was rather whimsical – maybe more pensive than whimsical – and offered the following:

“Hard to say. If you would have told me in the Skiff newsroom, I'd be teaching a videoconference to TCU kids, as I did for your class this spring from Cooperstown, I would have bought drinks for everyone at The Pub for two weeks straight. I love my job and I love Cooperstown. It is a real treasure,” said Horn.

“That said, you can take me out of Texas, but you can't take Texas out
of me. I'd like to try Austin (my dad has lived there for about 15 years, but I've never lived there) and Fort Worth now as a real adult, but doing what, I don't know. I will make a pretty bold prediction: This will be the last job in sports that I hold. The industry is too
fluid and the people who work in it day-in and day-out are too underappreciated by ownership.

“As Pat Green says, ‘Who's to say?’ There's a lot of life I want to live. It's all about courage, timing and meeting your own expectations that reveals life's next challenge.”

I plan on holding him to that offer about rounds of drinks at The Pub for two weeks, and will leave you now to revel in Frog’s career while I go predict what this great young J-School alum will do next. Not only for the benefit of 14 days of free beer, but also just to go along for the ride.

Onward,
Mourer