Me and Ryno down by the school yard

Amid all the hot stove rumors and the steroid confessions dominating the baseball talk one of my favorite things about baseball happened this week. The ballots for the Baseball Hall of Fame were mailed out. I’m a third generation baseball fan thanks to my father and his dad. I was the kid who collected soda bottles and turned them in at the drug store for packs of baseball cards. With a mouthful of stale gum I’d sift through the new cards looking for my favorite players, studying their stats, and trying to collect the current roster of the Chicago Cubs. I’d play baseball in the backyard with the plastic helmet I got at the last game I went to. Even after the strap inside broke I’d wear it with the hard plastic nubs digging into my scalp. Why? Because it would fly off easier when I rounded first just like Charlie Hustle. In the last few years I’ve begun to feel my age as players whose rookie cards I have tucked into mylar sleeves are being inducted into the Hall. But that’s fine with me because my baseball history is now becoming a part of the Baseball Hall of Fame. Except that is for my favorite baseball player of all time, Ryne Sandberg. This is Ryno’s third year on the ballot. Last year on the ballot he received 61% of the votes. You need at least 75% to get in. So there is a strong possibility that he won’t get in, ever. Which is in my opinion is a crock. But I’m no Rob Neyer or Bill James, so I won’t try to validate his numbers and achievements with comparisons to other players throughout the history of baseball. This is just me remembering my growing up with Ryno and coming to love the game of baseball.
In fifth grade I started my baseball career. Being one of the last to make the team, I was stuck out in right field. But I got to play every game, so I didn’t care. I had my uniform that I’d make sure to get dirty…before the game. I didn’t get a lot of chances to dirty my uniform in right field. And considering I was awful with the bat, I never got to slide into base either. In fact I was pretty much awful in all respects my rookie season. When the coach starts offering rewards of ice cream if you just catch the ball, it’s not a good sign. My sophomore season was my breakout year. My father was my coach that year. Realizing my ability at using the leather, he penciled me in at second base. There on that dirty path between first and second I flourished. I still couldn’t hit, but I could it pick it. My greatest moment coming with the bases loaded in a tie game, and I backhanded a grounder near second to keep the tie. My father still wonders how I ever got to that ball. With my position on the field cemented, I now needed someone to emulate. This is where Ryno comes in.
My father pointed him out to me when I asked him his opinion on second basemen. Being a Cardinals fan, I’m sure he wished he’d have mentioned someone else. And that’s where it all began. I collected every card, watched every game, tried to swing like he did. On my TIVO I have ESPN Classic's broadcast of the June 23, 1984 game against the Cardinals where he two game tying home runs in an eventual 12-11 win in 11 innings. Among the many Ryno posters adorning my wall, I had a poster of him with the title: “Speak softly and carry a big stick.” That’s what I liked about him. He didn’t strut or talk smack. He just played ball hard and consistently well. My favorite memory is driving from Virginia Beach to Wrigley in a Ford Escort wagon to see my baseball hero play his last home game. There I sat along the first base side on September 21st, 1997. I still remember distinctly the hard double he hit off the ivy. Standing on second, the crowd stood and cheered as he tipped his hat and walked off the field. A couple tears hit my score card as I penciled in Miguel Cairo as a pinch runner. Ryno's 16 year baseball career had come to an end.
Every January I now wait to see if my Ryno will finally be voted into the Baseball Hall of Fame. This year he needs 71 voters to change their mind. That’s a lot of minds to change. But with the same hope I hold for World Series Champions to be finally linked with my Cubs, I hope that Hall of Famer will be linked with Ryno. Then I can finally spend that money I’ve saved in a jar with “1st trip to the Hall of Fame” written on the side.