Rickey being Rickey in LF

Rickey being Rickey in LF
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Paul Hoynes
Plain Dealer Reporter

The most vivid memory I have of Rickey Henderson, the best left fielder I've ever seen, had nothing to do with what made him fa mous. Henderson, the best leadoff hitter to ever work a count, stole more bases and scored more runs than any player in history.

My clearest Rickey moment came at the Rogers Centre, then called SkyDome in Toronto. Henderson was batting leadoff against the Indians.

On this particular day, he was facing Jose Mesa. How old is the memory? It was 1993 and Mesa, two years away from becoming the closer that wrapped Cleveland in his arms before breaking its heart, was still a starter.

It was an afternoon game, the SkyDome roof was open and Henderson was taking his time getting into the batter's box. Mesa fumed while he waited. Before it all turned bad for Mesa in Cleveland, he was a decent guy with a sense of humor.

On the mound, he tended toward snappishness.

When Henderson finally stepped into the box, after much gyrating, digging and adjusting, Mesa sent him ankles over elbows with his first pitch of the afternoon. It was the best knockdown pitch I've seen, and nothing happened.

Henderson got up and stepped back in the box without protest. The umpire didn't give a warning, and Mesa continued pitching.

A future Hall of Famer had just been flipped like a baseball card in the wind, and the game continued without a meeting of the United Nations Security Council. Things have changed since then.

Henderson played from 1979 to 2003. He came to the big leagues with Oakland at 20. He retired with the Dodgers at 44.

I saw a lot him because he spent most of his career in the American League. He looked cool and played cool.

When Henderson hit a home run, he'd take the big Cadillac turn around first base, running sideways for a while. I remember him wearing wrap-around sunglasses when he stole bases. He looked like Robocop sliding head-first into the bag.

Henderson's game was a constant battle between substance and flash.

On routine fly balls, he'd position himself under the ball, but wouldn't just catch it. He'd snatch it out of the air, crisscrossing his arms in the process like a man on a deserted island desperately signaling a low-flying plane.

He called it the snatch catch.

Secretly, I always hoped he'd drop one. If he did, I never saw it.

Henderson, built like an NFL tailback, hit out of a crouch. Jim Murray, the Hall of Fame columnist for the Los Angeles Times, said the crouch reduced Henderson's strike zone to the "size of Hitler's heart." Now that's a line that will get you into Cooperstown.

The small strike zone, and a good eye, helped Henderson draw the second-most walks in history at 2,190. He held the record when he retired, but was passed by Barry Bonds when the National League started walking Bonds three and four times per game. Henderson held his speed. He set the major-league record with 130 steals in 1982. Sixteen years later, he stole 66 bases for the A's in 1998. Henderson, born on Christmas Day, was 39.

Baseball is filled with unwritten rules. When it comes to base stealing, it's not polite to steal when you have a big lead or to pad your own stats. Henderson never worried about such things.

No one steals 1,406 bases by following protocol. On May 1, 1982, at Cleveland Stadium, the Indians had to put utility infielder Mike Fischlin behind the plate late in the game. Henderson stole second and third against the overmatched Fischlin in an 8-2 Oakland victory. It probably wasn't Henderson's greatest moment, but it was, in one of his favorite sayings, "Rickey being Rickey."