There used
to be a time when the waiting for baseball season began when football season
ended. Seeing as how football season ended for San Diego in December 2016, I
have been not-so-patiently waiting to hear the words “Play Ball!” ever since.
This year
brings with it even more anticipation than most, as my son Trevor opens his
Little League season on March 10th. If ever a boy was born ready to play
baseball, it’s him.
For years
we have been talking about guys I’ve gotten to know in the game; there was a
time when I could look at a list of living Hall of Famers and point out the
fact I had met every one of them, not to mention countless All Stars, Gold
Glove winners and members of every playoff team for over a decade.
Yet when
we talk baseball, my thoughts and words go back to three specific men; men I
was blessed to get to know on and off the field and as outstanding they were as
ballplayers, they were even greater men off the field.
The
history of the San Diego Padres may pale in comparison to that of the Yankees
and their legends but for that matter, what teams history compares to Ruth
& Gehrig; Mantle & Maris; and of course, Joltin’ Joe DiMaggio. No
matter, the three men I speak of most are part of our history, and it’s no less
important to my sons and I then the lore of any other team out there.
Tim, Tony
and Trevor.
Just those
three names can bring forth thousands of memories for any Padre fan. Maybe a
first autograph or running into one of them at the grocery store during the
offseason. Or a game winning hit; a smile and wave during batting practice or
one of them walking into an AC/DC concert, smiling and waving at everyone yet
changing his path to come straight to you and give you hug. (Okay, I admit that
last one was my own memory but you get my drift.)
Before I
sit down and write a piece, I ask myself a few questions. The first one I ask
is “What do I want to accomplish with
this?” The second one is “Exactly who
am I writing this for?” And the last one is “Why don’t you just stop thinking and let it flow?”
As I
scanned my extensive files of personal and collective memories, the answers to
the first two questions were one in the same. I am writing this for two people.
One, for those whose memory banks may be even fuller than mine. Two, for the
unfortunate souls who may not know those names. If you read this and you don’t
know these names, it is my hope you have at least some understanding of not
only how these men excelled on the ballfield but in life itself.
Here they
are, the Three T’s; San Diego’s Perfect Example:
Tim
Flannery
Growing
up, I thought Tim Flannery was a cool, laid back kind of guy. This was
evidenced during the first game I attended at The Murph during the Summer of
1983. We were playing the Phillies that day and someone fouled a rocket into
the home dugout. While the bench nearly cleared out, Timmy nonchalantly stuck
his hand out and barehanded the ball as if he was sitting on the beach reaching
into the cooler.
Turns out
I was only half right; though cool and laid back is definitely part of his
persona, Tim Flannery was as fiery a competitor you will ever see. My brother
used to say “Give me eight Tim
Flannery’s, and we’ll be playing ball in October.” Years later I updated
that quote, saying “Give me 25 guys led
by Tim Flannery, and you’ll be the last team standing in October.” Three
World Series Rings in five seasons for the Giants and Tim sent every one of
those runs home. In all my years as a fan and employee, I only really knew Tim
as a player and coach. Over the past few years I have gotten to know him as a
person; as a husband, as a father and now a grandfather. As you will not find a
player with more fire than Tim Flannery, you will also not find a human being
with a bigger heart. Tim runs a charity called the Love Harder Foundation and
Loving Harder is not just a name, it’s what he does and who he is.
I was
blessed to watch him as a player for seven seasons and had a fly-on-the-wall
vantage to observe him as a coach for five seasons and though you may find
examples that equal his, you will not find one that surpasses it…
Tony
Gwynn
Really,
what can be said that hasn’t already been said at least 3,141 times? Everyone
has a favorite memory, a favorite stat of Mr. Padre. The hard part is choosing
just one. The nice part about that is, you don’t have to choose just one.
Personally, my favorite thing about Tony, the Ballplayer is his career average
against the Maddux-Glavine-Smoltz powerhouse. I mean, he absolutely OWNED what
is likely the greatest 1-2-3 punch in baseball history. Then there’s his five
Gold Gloves, which he often said was what he was proudest of. He was once
called a subpar outfielder but let me tell you, “subpar” outfielders don’t win a
Gold Glove, let alone five.
My son was
born four years after Tony retired, but he knows the numbers and the impact
Tony had on all of us. Yet when we talk numbers, we don’t talk a whole lot
about the specifics. In the grand scheme of things, numbers are not all that
important. What is important is how
he achieved those numbers, and that’s the biggest point I try and hammer home
to my sons on the ballfield, in the classroom and everywhere else. Tony was
always working. I used to get to the stadium early to assist the ticket office
and there wasn’t a day he wasn’t already there. It wouldn’t surprise me to find
out they just gave him a key to the place, since they’d save a few bucks having
to pay overtime to the guy who would have to wait until Tony left after a game
to lock up.
It was a
sad day indeed in Padreville when Tony was called up to the Big Lineup in the
Sky. It still hurts and always will. But the hurt is constantly soothed by the
unending gratitude I have for the example Tony set for all of us…
Trevor
Hoffman
I must admit,
I was not all that excited the first time I heard the name Trevor Hoffman and
if there’s no fans who wouldn’t say the same, at least some of them are lying.
Trevor came to the Padres during the infamous Fire Sale; traded for none other
than 1992 Triple Crown candidate Gary Sheffield. We were somewhat shielded from
the Fire Sale as we lived in a small mountain town in New Mexico during that
time. But that didn’t keep us from hearing news of the trade and looking back,
I’ve never been prouder to be wrong in my life.
If there
ever was a player who could rival Tony Gwynn in Padres lore, it’s Hoffy. On
those long, 15 hour workdays at the Murph, I would often see Trevor out jogging
in the parking lot or in the outfield. Showing up before noon for a night game
and lord knows how early for a day game. He would run his bullpen mates to the
ground, literally, with his everyday routine. Some pitchers may have threw
harder, some may have had better movement on the ball but no one out-prepared
him. The man was and still is a workhorse.
Years ago,
Jerry Lee Lewis was asked about Chuck Berry during an interview. The Killer
replied “He’s the King of Rock &
Roll, my mama even said that!” One legend paying due respect, even the
ultimate respect to another. That’s one of the surefire ways to gauge the body
of work a man produces. Ask around MLB and you will hear nothing but praise for
#51. I thought about adding some quotes here, but just go ahead and do it
yourself if you’re so inclined. You won’t be disappointed.
Over the
years I probably got to know Trevor on a personal level more than any other
ballplayer. My years with the Pad Squad were times where my name was synonymous
with Trevor Time. He even retired from baseball just a few short weeks after I
hung up my jersey and I’ve since joked with him that he made the decision
because I wouldn't around to ride his coattails anymore. When thousands of us
gathered at Petco Park to Celebrate the Life of Tony Gwynn I had the
opportunity to talk with the Hoffman family. His sons, now taller than me,
looked at me like they were still the little kids who used to follow me around
the Stadium and Ballpark. His wife Tracy said “Hey! We were just talking about you." And wouldn’t you know it, I felt like yet again like that 8-year old kid
meeting his hero for the first time. You never forget your heroes and sometimes, your heroes never forget you.
I’ve
shared the following words many times over the years, the most cherished moment
came when I shared them with Trevor’s mom, Mikki.;
I didn’t name my firstborn after my
all time favorite ballplayer, I didn’t name him after the best closer in
National League history; I named my son after Trevor Hoffman the son, the
husband, the father, the brother and the teammate. My son is named Trevor after
Trevor Hoffman the man…
So there
you have it. I would dare you to find three better examples anywhere; baseball,
football, music. Don’t waste your time because you won’t. You might find those
who rival, even equal them in their respective fields of endeavor but none will
surpass. And you know what’s funny? Of all the accolades I send their way, all the
thanks and all the reasons I look up to them and use their examples to lead my
family, baseball doesn’t really have that much to do with it. That just happens to
be how we met…
