The message has added meaning now that Nuxhall has been gone for more than six years. Joseph Henry Nuxhall never fell in love with himself.
But we sure did.
On Thursday night, in a crowded room at Courtyard by Marriott in Hamilton, there was yet another tribute, a salute to the guy simply known as the “Ol’ Lefthander.” The Knights of Columbus held its annual fundraiser now called the Joe Nuxhall Memorial Sports Stag.
For 26 of its first 27 years, Nuxhall was the face — and voice — of the stag. People paid good money to hear Nuxhall weave his baseball tales as only he could. They came every year to be entertained by the same stories over and over. They didn’t care. They were in the room with Nuxhall, Hamilton Joe, their hometown hero who never forgot his roots.
After Nuxhall passed away on Nov. 15, 2007, the stag wasn’t held for several years, then, three years ago, it was renamed in Nuxhall’s honor. That first year back, 135 people attended at the Knights of Columbus hall in Hamilton, then the crowd grew to 165 last year at Ryan’s Tavern in downtown.
There wasn’t enough space to hold the crowds.
So this year, the event was moved to the Marriott and attracted a sold-out crowd of 240, the largest in its 30-year history. Dave Senger, one of the co-chairs, said in just two years, because of Nuxhall’s popularity, the size of the program has grown from 32 to 52 pages and the number of donated door prizes increased from 55 to 84.
The event raises about $5,000 a year, and proceeds are donated to charities in Nuxhall’s name, Senger said.
Nuxhall is any easy sell, as cherished today as he was when he was Marty Brennaman’s sidekick for 31 glorious summers. His legacy, if possible, seems to grow every year.
One of his sons, Kim Nuxhall, was there Thursday night. He didn’t sleep much after the event. His mind was racing, trying to grasp the impact that his father has had throughout Reds country. Sometimes, it seems like his father died forever ago.
On nights like Thursday, when stories and suds — Budweiser, of course — are flowing freely, it seems like he died only yesterday.
“I have a hard time getting my arms around it,” Kim Nuxhall said. “I can tell you this: they love my dad.”
And everything he believed in, from his character development program to the ball diamonds for children with special needs that bears his name to the college scholarships that are awarded to students in every Butler County high school from funds raised during the Joe Nuxhall golf tournament.
Dirk Allen, a former sports editor of the Journal-News and now director of admissions at Badin High School, said Nuxhall “never got too big for his hometown. He was one of us.”
Allen paused, then added: “His name carries a lot of positive clout.”
Joe Nuxhall never changed. He was always approachable, whether he was sitting at the counter at Bob Evans, at the ball park, or on the putting green. He hated being considered a “celebrity.”
Kim Nuxhall knows what would have happened had his father been at the stag this year. After every autograph was signed, every photo was taken, Joe Nuxhall would have been the last to leave the room.
That’s what happens when you’re as loved as Joe Nuxhall.
About the Author
