"Andre Dawson, the Hawk. No player in baseball history worked harder, suffered more or did it better than Andre Dawson. He's the best I've ever seen. The Hawk. I watched him win MVP for a last-place team in 1987, and it was the most unbelievable thing I've ever seen in baseball. He did it the right way, the natural way, and he did it in the field and on the bases and in every way, and I hope he will stand up here someday."
--Ryne Sandberg during his Baseball Hall of Fame induction speech in July 2005
COOPERSTOWN, N.Y. -- Hall of Fame weekend is always an emotional time for inductees. Just imagine the pressure of standing on a stage in a coat and tie in 90-degree heat, trying to summarize a life and thank all the relevant contributors in 15 minutes or less. It can't be easy with the knowledge that 50-something baseball immortals are squirming in their seats and glancing at their watches directly behind you.
The day is equally poignant for former teammates, who sit among the crowd and reminisce along with the inductee. They're the ones who helped support him through slumps and streaks, on bus rides and plane trips, from rookie year to retirement. They can best relate to the sacrifices a Hall of Fame career entails.
Five years ago, Ryne Sandberg received his Hall plaque and used the forum to deliver a celebrity endorsement. Andre Dawson had barely cracked 50 percent in his fourth year on the ballot, and Sandberg feared his former teammate might become an afterthought in an age of cartoonish, steroid-fueled power numbers. So he took a moment in the middle of his speech to pay tribute to the Hawk, a man who embodied everything he held dear about the game.
"When I talked about respect for the game of baseball, he was the first teammate I thought of who fit that mold," Sandberg said. "I had a fear he'd lose out of going to the Hall of Fame based on the state of the game at that time in the steroid era. I felt like his numbers were being overlooked, and I wanted to put in a good word for him."
This Sunday in Cooperstown, the two ex-Cubs will swap roles. Dawson is entering the Hall along with former big league manager Whitey Herzog and umpire Doug Harvey, and Sandberg will be a spectator. He will not be thinking about the heat or fretting about whether he'll be able to catch a late Sunday flight out of Albany.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," said Sandberg, manager of the Cubs' Triple-A Iowa farm club. "It'll mean a lot -- the fact that we were teammates and I added him into my speech promoting him for the Hall of Fame. It feels gratifying to be right on that call. Andre is going in, and baseball got it right."
"When I talked about respect for the game of baseball, he was the first teammate I thought of who fit that mold," Sandberg said. "I had a fear he'd lose out of going to the Hall of Fame based on the state of the game at that time in the steroid era. I felt like his numbers were being overlooked, and I wanted to put in a good word for him."
This Sunday in Cooperstown, the two ex-Cubs will swap roles. Dawson is entering the Hall along with former big league manager Whitey Herzog and umpire Doug Harvey, and Sandberg will be a spectator. He will not be thinking about the heat or fretting about whether he'll be able to catch a late Sunday flight out of Albany.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," said Sandberg, manager of the Cubs' Triple-A Iowa farm club. "It'll mean a lot -- the fact that we were teammates and I added him into my speech promoting him for the Hall of Fame. It feels gratifying to be right on that call. Andre is going in, and baseball got it right."
Friday, July 23, 2010
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Steinbrenner got beginning, ending right
Steinbrenner got beginning, ending right
July, 13, 2010 Jul 134:55PM ETEmail Print Comments6 By Rob Neyer
I've been reluctant to write about George Steinbrenner today. I'm intimidated, just as so many of his employees were intimidated for so many years. Steinbrenner's personality -- not to mention his accomplishments -- seem so large as to crowd out some distant writer's quick summary. Some years ago, I wrote a biographical article about Steinbrenner that consisted solely of quotations, presented chronologically, without any attempt to link them with my own words. That's how big he was, and (in my mind, apparently) still is.
Instead of trying to summarize his 37 years as Yankees owner, let me instead focus on the beginning and the end, because frankly I think that's when George Steinbrenner did his best work. All that ugliness in the middle, including his suspensions -- during which, it might be said, the Yankees were best-ministered -- has been written about before and will be written about again, but perhaps today's not the day.
In 1973, anyone could have bought the Yankees for a song. But it was George Steinbrenner who cut a deal to purchase one of the world's greatest sports franchises for $8.8 million. Sure, it seems obvious now, just as drafting Albert Pujols in the 13th round seems obvious now. But if it was so obvious, why didn't someone else do it? Why didn't someone draft Albert Pujols in the 12th round? Why didn't somone offer CBS $9.8 million for the Yankees? Wouldn't that have been one of the great investments, ever?
So maybe it wasn't so obvious. Maybe George Steinbrenner, for whatever reason, was one of the few men able to see not only what the Yankees had been, but what they could be. That was 1973.
Steinbrenner was suspended in 1974. By the time of his reinstatement in 1976, the pieces were in place and the Yankees won four division titles, three American League pennants and two World Series in five years.
Steinbrenner was suspended again in 1990. By the time of his reinstatement in 1993, the pieces were in place and the Yankees would, in 1994, begin a brilliant run of success that hasn't let up and shows no signs of letting up.
It's not hard to conclude that the Yankees have always been best-served when Steinbrenner's hands were tied ... Or, as in the middle 1990s, when he chose to take a less active role.
Now, about the end. When it became clear that George Steinbrenner, though obviously a force of nature, might not live forever, thoughts naturally turned to King Lear and the perils of succession. Which son-in-law or daughter or son could possibly fill the Boss's gigantic loafers? Who could possibly drive the franchise the way he had driven it?
Nobody, perhaps. But perhaps that sort of driving isn't actually necessary. Perhaps unlimited financial resources combined with steady and intelligent management can accomplish just as much. More, perhaps. Whether George Steinbrenner understood this or not, the fact remains that as he made his slow and steady exit, he somehow left his beloved Yankees in the capable hands of his sons.
George Steinbrenner's been called a lot of things, over the years. But "Boss Lear" will never been one of them. He got the ending right.Share
July, 13, 2010 Jul 134:55PM ETEmail Print Comments6 By Rob Neyer
I've been reluctant to write about George Steinbrenner today. I'm intimidated, just as so many of his employees were intimidated for so many years. Steinbrenner's personality -- not to mention his accomplishments -- seem so large as to crowd out some distant writer's quick summary. Some years ago, I wrote a biographical article about Steinbrenner that consisted solely of quotations, presented chronologically, without any attempt to link them with my own words. That's how big he was, and (in my mind, apparently) still is.
Instead of trying to summarize his 37 years as Yankees owner, let me instead focus on the beginning and the end, because frankly I think that's when George Steinbrenner did his best work. All that ugliness in the middle, including his suspensions -- during which, it might be said, the Yankees were best-ministered -- has been written about before and will be written about again, but perhaps today's not the day.
In 1973, anyone could have bought the Yankees for a song. But it was George Steinbrenner who cut a deal to purchase one of the world's greatest sports franchises for $8.8 million. Sure, it seems obvious now, just as drafting Albert Pujols in the 13th round seems obvious now. But if it was so obvious, why didn't someone else do it? Why didn't someone draft Albert Pujols in the 12th round? Why didn't somone offer CBS $9.8 million for the Yankees? Wouldn't that have been one of the great investments, ever?
So maybe it wasn't so obvious. Maybe George Steinbrenner, for whatever reason, was one of the few men able to see not only what the Yankees had been, but what they could be. That was 1973.
Steinbrenner was suspended in 1974. By the time of his reinstatement in 1976, the pieces were in place and the Yankees won four division titles, three American League pennants and two World Series in five years.
Steinbrenner was suspended again in 1990. By the time of his reinstatement in 1993, the pieces were in place and the Yankees would, in 1994, begin a brilliant run of success that hasn't let up and shows no signs of letting up.
It's not hard to conclude that the Yankees have always been best-served when Steinbrenner's hands were tied ... Or, as in the middle 1990s, when he chose to take a less active role.
Now, about the end. When it became clear that George Steinbrenner, though obviously a force of nature, might not live forever, thoughts naturally turned to King Lear and the perils of succession. Which son-in-law or daughter or son could possibly fill the Boss's gigantic loafers? Who could possibly drive the franchise the way he had driven it?
Nobody, perhaps. But perhaps that sort of driving isn't actually necessary. Perhaps unlimited financial resources combined with steady and intelligent management can accomplish just as much. More, perhaps. Whether George Steinbrenner understood this or not, the fact remains that as he made his slow and steady exit, he somehow left his beloved Yankees in the capable hands of his sons.
George Steinbrenner's been called a lot of things, over the years. But "Boss Lear" will never been one of them. He got the ending right.Share
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