I don’t wear gear to support other teams. When it comes to baseball, it’s orange and black—nothing else. In the fall, I wear blue and gold on Saturdays for the Irish and red and gold on Sundays for the Niners. I even once questioned a close friend about the hat she was wearing for another team. “I could never do that,” I told her. It felt like a matter of principle—almost right and wrong—but I reminded myself this wasn’t a moral issue. And yet, there’s one curious exception to my personal ethic of fandom: a Pee-Chee folder I had, proudly featuring Ryne Sandberg in his Cubs uniform. His recent passing made me pause—and remember. Why him? Why did he get a pass?
There's no doubt in my mind that Sandberg made an impression on me because he was a starter for the Cubs who played the Giants in the 1989 National League Division Championship series. The Giants won the pennant in five games. I attended 20 games at Candlestick Park with my brother during the regular season and was lucky enough to attend NCLS Game 4 with my Dad. Although an athlete named Mark Grace, stood to Ryno's left at first base, "grace" is exactly what I saw in #23.
At 6'2", Ryne Sandberg made the game—and his position—look almost effortless. He was the consummate teammate and professional athlete. I’m not sure I ever saw him lose his temper, or even show much emotion. He carried himself with class and elegance, power and poise. Sure, his handsome face didn’t hurt, but there was something else—an intangible quality that didn’t just speak, it screamed volumes. His Hall of Fame induction speech speaks directly to that very thing. You can watch it here.
At 6'2", Ryne Sandberg made the game—and his position—look almost effortless. He was the consummate teammate and professional athlete. I’m not sure I ever saw him lose his temper, or even show much emotion. He carried himself with class and elegance, power and poise. Sure, his handsome face didn’t hurt, but there was something else—an intangible quality that didn’t just speak, it screamed volumes. His Hall of Fame induction speech speaks directly to that very thing. You can watch it here.
Inducted in 2005, he said
To hear Ryne Sandberg articulate the importance of this one word in his Hall of Fame career illuminated what I must have seen all along. Respect speaks for itself. His actions on the field pointed the 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 is a single reason I am here today, it is because of one word: 'Respect.'"I was taught you never, ever disrespect your opponent or your teammates or your organization or your manager. Make a great play — act like you've done it before. … Hit a home run — put your head down, drop the bat, run around the bases. Because the name on the front is a lot more important than the name on the back.A lot of people say this honor validates my career, but I didn't work hard for validation. I didn't play the game right because I saw a reward at the end of the tunnel. I played it right because that's what you're supposed to do — play it right and with respect. If this validates anything, it's that learning how to bunt, and hit and run, and turn two is more important than knowing where to find the little red light on the dugout camera.
Respect is one of my core values. In my classroom, it’s non-negotiable. Every semester, I tell my students (and athletes): If at any point you feel that respect has been compromised—by someone, something, or even by me—please talk to me. It is one of the greatest goods; so much flows from it.
In a life that left us too soon, I can only hope that today's athletes and coaches, fans and friends will understand, celebrate or remember what we saw on a baseball diamond or a desk at Carondelet High School many years ago.
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