Ryne Sandberg Reminds Us About Respect

There is not much positive to write about the Cubs these days, but Cubs fans were given one glorious moment lately with the induction of Ryne Sandberg into the Hall of Fame. It was thrilling to see a Cubbie who played while I was alive make it into the Hall of Fame, but it was even more satisfying to see him deliver a speech that any baseball fan should be proud of. Sandberg was a star in Chicago, but not because of an electric personality (Mike Ditka), or being a showman (Sammy Sosa), or stirring up controversies (Dennis Rodman) or winning multiple championships and setting records (Jordan). He was a star because he played 162 games, and he was a baseball player, something he tried to remind fans is a player known for more than hitting home runs.

Sandberg’s speech was touted more for what appeared to be shots at Sammy Sosa and the steroid driven era, but I believe he also was asking fans and the media to look at themselves and their fascination with records and statistics. His message to the Baseball Writers Association, “I hope you understand why I would not campaign for this or help you sell this. It’s the best award in all of sports and I think if I had expected anything, if I was thinking about it too much or crunching the numbers, it would have taken away from the prestige of this incredible honor.”

As Rafael Palmeiro would embarrass himself and baseball, the question asked by the media was, “Is he a Hall of Famer now?” When discussing the steroid era, we mostly talk about the records of baseball and how unfair it is for these records to be broken, and should we put an asterisk by these new home run records. Let us not forget about expansion, five-man pitching rotations, free agency, smaller ball parks, a juiced baseball, the year-round weight training and conditioning. Steroids are just one of many factors that have affected the status of the baseball records.

Ryne Sandberg was talking about more than records, he was talking about playing the game the right way, “The reason I am here, they tell me, is that I played the game a certain way, that I played the game the way it was supposed to be played. I don’t know about that, but I do know this: I had too much respect for the game to play it any other way, and if there was a single reason I am here today, it is because of one word, respect. I love to play baseball. I’m a baseball player. I’ve always been a baseball player. I’m still a baseball player. That’s who I am.”

What a beautiful statement. As a basketball coach who has competed in sports for years, it was this statement that I related to the most. Any good coach will tell you that it is the little things that make championship teams. Great teams have players who do more than one thing well. Shane Battier led Duke to a National Championship with his desire to take charges as much as his ability to shoot. Emeka Okafor led UConn to a National Championship as a shot blocker as much as his ability to dominate inside. Michael Jordan and Scottie Pippen were great not only on the offensive end, but they were perennial First-Team All Defensive players.

Sandberg did take some shots at the modern player, but I think he also believes that the modern player has been tolerated by coaches, the media, and the fans. Harry Caray may have been known more for his creative ways in the broadcast booth than his baseball insights, but he did have an insight that Sandberg brought to our attention, “But Harry, who was a huge supporter of mine, used to say how nice it is that a guy who can hit 40 homers or steal 50 bases drive in a hundred runs is the best bunter on the team. Nice? That was my job. When did it become okay for someone to hit home runs and forget how to play the rest of the game?”

While times have changed in baseball, football, basketball and all sports, one thing remains the same; the formula for winning. Winning games is not about statistics, or hitting the most home runs, or scoring the most points, or making the flashiest plays. The winners know how to bunt, make the extra pass, or as Sandberg said, “Turning two is more important than knowing where to find the little red light at the dugout camera.” The winners also don’t just play on the side that will result in statistics that might get you into the Hall of Fame.

Ryne Sandberg talks about what the game is really about and why we love to play or coach in these games, “If you played the game the right way, played the game for the team, good things would happen. That’s what I loved most about the game, how a ground out to second with a man on second and nobody out was a great thing.”

Then he finished the statement with the theme of his speech, “RESPECT.” Now there is a word really worth talking about!


Remembering October 14

As the resident Cubs fan on this web site, I would like to start by apologizing to Steve Bartman. All Cubs fans should apologize to this regular, if not nerdy looking guy, who will forever be linked to the Cubs curse, never mind that the curse was 94 years old before the day the world was introduced to Steve Bartman. Only a lifelong Cub fan can understand the day-to-day grind of being a Cubs fan. We are the only fans who have embraced the fact that we are going to be miserable from April to October. Bartman is one of us, and after what happened on October 14, there is no greater example of the tortured Cub fan.

Just like people in the sixties say they remember where they were when Kennedy was shot, I will always remember the little details of this day. I watched almost every playoff game in the confines of my small one-bedroom apartment in New York. Because this was where I chose to torture myself, I must also apologize to my wife, who was undoubtedly traumatized by my behavior. While the Cubs played 12 playoff games, her nights were filled with a consistent flow of curse words, imaginary conversations with Dusty Baker, Sammy Sosa, etc., and someone who barely resembled the guy that used to take her out to dinner and a movie. She had to live through screams of joy that would wake her up, and endure the silence of total depression.

On the day of October 14, game six, with a flaming hot Mark Prior pitching, the Cubs were supposed to finally end the curse. Bandwagon Cubs fans were sure this was the year, but true Cubs fans knew in their heart that the odds are never in favor of the Cubs. However, when the Cubs jumped out to a 3-0 lead and Mark Prior was mowing them down, every out just heightened my excitement.

Just before the eighth inning I received a call from John Starks, who I coached with during the summer in the United States Basketball League, and in September, when we took a group of professional basketball players to a tournament in Denmark. He was given a unique look into my obsession with Cubs baseball. People from Chicago would certainly find this ironic.

Starks was on his way to congratulating me on finally making it to the World Series, when I stopped him. I felt good, but I was not ready to celebrate. Yogi Berra’s quote, “It ain’t over until it is over” is famous for a reason. After hanging up with Starks, Prior quickly recorded the first out. After each out in this game, those watching on television saw constant shots of cheering Cubs fans. This brought me to thoughts of my father and the memories I had of going with him to Wrigley Field. I would bring my glove, keep score, and eat hot dogs Chicago style with mustard, no ketchup. He was at the game, and I could imagine his smile, his nerdy cheers, and his crooked baseball hat that I felt was meant to embarrass me more than to keep his head warm.

Then the television caught a sign held up by a lady that had already put the Cubs in the World Series. I screamed, “NOOOOO!” I yelled at my wife, because yelling at the television did not satisfy me. After seeing my wife cower, I screamed back at the television, “Don’t jinx us.” I went on for another minute chastising this lady. In my heart I knew something was about to go wrong. It always does when you love the Cubs. It was not more than a few minutes later that Moises Alou found himself at the wall with a chance to make a great catch. I don’t even have to describe the play, because everyone knows what happened and everyone knows the rest of the story.

My first reaction was to curse the almost nerdy looking guy who was dressed like a knowledgeable Chicago fan, who has attended many games in windy and cold Wrigley Field. As they showed the replay over and over, constant shots of Bartman’s scared gaze, and as I listened to the announcers, I started to feel bad for this guy.

Moises Alou had to sprint to the wall, time his jump, reach over the wall and bring the ball back into play. When did making a leaping catch over the wall become a routine play? Could Alou have caught the ball? Yes, but it was hardly routine. The Cubs did botch a routine play two batters later.

The play that was always overlooked was the routine grounder hit by Miguel Cabrera that Alex Gonzales bobbled. It could have been a double play, but definitely would have been the second out. This play opened the floodgates for an eight-run eighth inning. When I go to sleep at night, I still often think about what would have happened if Gonzales had fielded the routine grounder.

I wrote earlier that as a kid growing up, I remember bringing my glove to Wrigley Field. One of the coolest parts of baseball is the opportunity to catch a foul ball. If you watch baseball on television we are always given images of happy, high-fiving fans after they become owners of a real major league baseball. Steve Bartman only did something that is consistent with baseball tradition. It is unfair to make him the scapegoat, rather I see him as the symbol of your typical Cubs fan.

Alex Gonzales botched a routine ground ball, not unlike Bill Buckner of the Red Sox. If you asked most Cubs fans who was at fault for the choke job in 2003, Cubs fans will blame a fan. It is why Wrigley Field is the greatest place for any baseball player to play, and it is why I kept a John Starks consolation message on my cell phone after the Cubs lost Game 7, until opening day in 2004.