NEW YORK -- Saturday marks 50 years since the passing of Gil Hodges, who died on April 2, 1972, just two days prior to his 48th birthday. This July, he will be inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame -- an honor many feel was long overdue.

Hodges was one of the best sluggers in Dodgers history, hitting 361 career home runs and driving in 100 or more runs in a season seven straight times. Hodges was a key figure in Dodgers teams that went to the World Series seven times during the late 1940s and ‘50s, winning it all in 1955 and ‘59.

Hodges may not have led the league in any statistical category in a single season, but his body of work in the 1950s spoke for itself. He led all Major League first basemen during that decade in home runs (310), RBIs (1,001), runs (890), hits (1,491) and games played (1,477). According to Baseball-Reference, over a 162-game season, Hodges averaged 29 home runs and 100 RBIs with a .273 batting average.

Hodges posted an OPS+ of 120 or better in nine of 10 seasons from 1950-59, garnering MVP votes in seven of those years. By the time he retired after the 1963 season, Hodges led all NL right-handed hitters in career home runs (370).

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His incredible resume includes success as a manager, too. At the time of his passing, Hodges was manager of the Mets, and he remains arguably the best skipper in team history. When Hodges joined the team in 1968, he instilled a winning attitude to a franchise that had struggled since its inception in '62. Prior to Hodges’ arrival, the Mets were known as the laughingstock of baseball. In its first six years of existence, New York lost 100 games or more five times.

“The frolics were not going to be accepted anymore. It was serious business,” said Mets radio broadcaster and team historian Howie Rose. “Even though they only won 73 games in Gil’s first year, you could see that they were becoming a legit club.”

By establishing that baseline in 1968, Hodges set the stage for the “Miracle Mets” of '69. Hodges guided the Mets to their first World Series title over the heavily favored Orioles. It was New York's pitching staff -- led by fellow Hall of Famer Tom Seaver -- that helped the Mets win the Fall Classic in five games, holding the Orioles to nine runs and a .146 batting average.

Seaver was that team’s only superstar, as the Mets utilized a platoon system at four positions -- first, second and third base, and right field. They won 100 games during the regular season.

Long before modern analytics came into existence, Hodges would sometimes play four outfielders whenever a slugger like Frank Robinson or Willie Mays came to the plate, to close those gaps in the outfield.

“If not for Gil Hodges, there would be no ‘69 Mets as we know it today,” said Cleon Jones, the starting left fielder that year. “Any other manager, in my opinion, couldn’t have gotten 25 players to buy in to what he was doing. A manager’s job is to get his players up and respond to the situation, and Gil did that each and every day.”

An end of an era

Tragically, Hodges’ life ended suddenly and unexpectedly. Following a round of golf with Mets coaches in West Palm Beach, Fla., he suffered a heart attack and collapsed. He was pronounced dead at a local hospital just 20 minutes later.

The Mets players, many of whom viewed him as a father figure, took his loss hard. Hodges had convinced them they could do almost anything on the baseball field.

"No one had more impact on my career than Gil Hodges,” Seaver said in his book, Tom Seaver's All-Time Baseball Greats. “Playing for him was a learning experience, and he was a tower of strength. Not everybody liked him, but everybody respected him. He went about his job in a very professional manner, and it caused me to do the same with my job."

Hodges invested in all his players, even the rookies. Ken Singleton, who played for the Mets in the early 1970s, made his Major League debut in the second game of a doubleheader against the Cubs on June 24, 1970, and Hodges batted him third in the lineup. Singleton had his first productive game two days later, collecting two hits and hitting his first Major League home run off right-hander Bill Stoneman in a 6-5 loss to the Expos. The next day, Hodges gave Singleton the lineup card and had him tape it on the dugout wall.

“That was very nice of him,” said Singleton, who grew up in New York and is best remembered for his years with the Orioles. “As a rookie, you are kind of there. You are seen, but not heard. For him to do that, it made me feel very good, like [I was a] part of the team. It was something that was totally unexpected.

“Playing for Gil Hodges was special, because he was one of the guys that I watched on TV when I was 4, 5 years old. To me, he was the strong, silent type. He had an easy demeanor about him. But you could see he was a big, strong guy and if you crossed him, you didn’t want to do that.”

Singleton was promoted to the big leagues at the expense of first baseman Ed Kranepool, who was sent back to Triple-A Tidewater even though he had established himself in the big leagues the previous six years. More than 40 years later, Kranepool still acknowledges that at that time he needed to redevelop his skills. He returned later in the season, becoming one of the best utility players in team history until his retirement after the 1979 season.

“You can be mad at the manager, but I think in the long run, [Hodges] made me a better player, a better person. I came back and respected him,” Kranepool said. “After I came back [from the Minor Leagues], he gave me an opportunity to play. … I would have been a whole lot better if he survives for the simple reason, he started to play me again. He didn’t hold a grudge. I didn’t hold a grudge. He earned my respect. We got along fine.”

Kranepool played his entire 18 years with Mets, and he’ll tell you that the team was never the same after Hodges passed away. The Mets returned to the World Series in 1973 under then-manager Yogi Berra, but Kranepool believes the Mets would have defeated the Athletics if Hodges was at the helm.

“Gil was a great leader," Kranepool said. "He knew the game. He didn’t make mistakes. Most managers shouldn’t cost you a ballgame. They should add to the ballclub, and Gil was that type of person. There are plenty of baseball managers that don’t belong in that position.”

The Mets might have missed out on the person most capable of doing of replacing Hodges. Whitey Herzog, who was the Mets' director of player personnel at the time, was passed over in favor of Berra as manager, then departed the organization. Herzog had been instrumental in building the Mets, but he had never been a manager up to that point. He left to become skipper of the Rangers.

“It was probably the worst mistake I ever made,” said Herzog, who became a Hall of Fame manager. “Luckily, I was fired before the year was up.”

Perhaps things would have turned out differently in New York. Rose thinks so.

“[Hodges’ death] left a gap that Whitey Herzog should have filled,” Rose said. “Whitey was allowed to get away. That left a hole that took a long time to fill.”

After the Mets won the ‘69 Fall Classic, the Mets threw a party that night at the Diamond Club inside Shea Stadium. After arriving at the party, Herzog approached Hodges, who jumped out of his chair and congratulated Herzog for sending him the right players to win the title. Rookies like right-hander Gary Gentry and third baseman Wayne Garrett were an integral part of the championship club.

“For him to say that to me, when I was there to congratulate him, meant more to me at the time … than anybody personally ever said to me in baseball,” Herzog said. “It made me feel good, and my wife heard it.”

A son loses his hero

Hodges’ only son, Gil Jr., will never forget the last time he saw his father alive.

It was April Fools Day. The entire family was in St. Petersburg, Fla., where Hodges was in his fifth year of managing the Mets and Gil Jr., a first baseman, was in his second full season in the Mets' Minor League system.

Hodges Sr. was leaving for West Palm to play a round of golf with his coaches. He had the time to go on the golf course because the baseball players were on strike. As they were leaving the hotel and going their separate ways, the manager made a request of his eldest kid.

“Dad is saying goodbye to everybody,” Gil Jr. remembered. “We walk to the elevator together and then he said, ‘Make sure you take care of your mom.’ I’m like, ‘Yeah. OK.’ I’m 22 years old. What are you talking about? I have no concept of what’s going to transpire the next day. That’s the last time I saw him. The elevator door closed. I could close my eyes and see that going on right now.”

The next day, Easter Sunday, Gil Jr. attended the 5 p.m. mass. After the service ends and he starts to drive home, Gil Jr. learns via the radio that his father passed away.

“That had an impact on me that took a couple of years to resolve,” Gil Jr. “I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I drove to the hotel parking lot and there was Joe McDonald [then the director of player development] -- waiting for me [to tell me the news]. It was one of those things.”

Fifty years later, this July 24, Gil Jr. -- along with sisters Irene and Cindy -- will be in Cooperstown to see his father get his due as he is inducted into the Hall of Fame. He also is thrilled that his mother, Joan, 95, is well enough to witness the great event.

“I’ll let you know [how it feels] when I come back to earth,” Gil Jr. proudly said. “I’m overwhelmed. … The amount of gratitude and thankfulness that I have to be able to pick up the phone and talk to my mother about her husband and my father is immeasurable. The person I’m most thankful for is mom, because she gets to enjoy it.”