Ryno, respect, the Cubs and two-way streets
By Michael M. Bates (08/02/05)
Ryne Sandberg’s speech on his induction into the Hall of Fame was terrific. The former Chicago Cub talked about respect. The words came straight from the heart. Sadly, not everyone shares his respect for the game or the men who play it or the fans who watch it.
A few fans may quibble about whether he actually belongs in the Hall of Fame, but the fact remains that he is. And compared to some of the other men in the HOF, he’s a darn fine role model.
Sandberg was on target when he spoke of baseball’s unnamed hotdogs who never tire of looking for TV cameras to wave at. There’s speculation that one of those to whom he was referring is former Cub Sammy Sosa.
Sammy always has had a lot of respect - for himself. You’ll recall his rage when the fans turned on him and started booing as whatever performance-enhancing drugs he took wore off. Many had stood by him during his corked bat embarrassment, but striking out with runners in scoring position could not be ignored.
"We need some support," responded Sammy to the taunting. "We need some love."
Sosa exhibited his support for fans and his teammates and management when, without permission, he left the last game of 2004 only minutes after it had begun.
No doubt Sammy was dejected by the turnaround in the fans’ attitudes. For years he’d been a hero winning ovations and helping to make the Cubs a bona fide contender. Seemingly overnight, the crowds turned on him with an intensity they usually reserve for the opposition. Or LaTroy Hawkins.
Poor LaTroy. The Cubs reliever last season saved just three out of 11 one-run games. This year wasn’t better. The hapless Hawkins dropped three out of five one-run saves.
Cub fans were not terribly understanding. They viciously jeered him. Manager Dusty Baker said the pitcher received plenty of hate mail, much of it containing racial slurs and a few with threats to his family.
LaTroy was traded to San Francisco earlier this season, but Cub stalwarts haven’t tempered their odium. When he appeared in a game last month, Wrigley’s finest chanted, "Hawkins (stinks)" for an entire inning.
Booing and jeering are part of baseball. Fans pay their money and have a right to sound off. But the ferocity and harshness are, as Derek Lee noted after the most recent Hawkins’ incident, classless. It shows a lack of respect not just for the targeted player, but for other people subjected to tasteless tirades. Parents taking their children to Wrigley Field do so at a risk.
Disrespect is not all one-sided, of course. Over the years baseball, and certainly the Cubs, have slighted fans.
For some, the 1994 strike was a sign of disrespect. Pampered millionaire players and pampered millionaire owners wiped out the season and, for the first time in 90 years, the World Series. There are baseball fans who’ve never returned.
Another suggestion of contempt comes from Chicago’s National League team. Cub owners and management haven’t given followers a World Series winner since 1908. Every team is entitled to a bad year, but a bad century?
Yet the North Siders keep selling tickets, keep setting attendance records. If the consumers are willing to accept a second-rate product, why bother to get better?
When Ryne Sandberg was still a newbie, Cubs manager Lee Elia announced what he thought of the team’s fans. Tired of how his players were treated at home games, one day he exploded. Part of his profanity drenched tirade:
"(Expletive deleted) those (expletive deleted) fans who come out here and say they’re Cub fans that are supposed to be behind you, rippin' every (expletive deleted) thing you do.
"They're really, really behind you around here . . . my (expletive deleted). What the (expletive deleted) am I supposed to do, go out there and let my (expletive deleted) players get destroyed every day and be quiet about it? For the (expletive deleted) nickel-dime people who turn up? The (expletive deleted) don't even work. That's why they’re out at the (expletive deleted) game. They oughta go out and get a (expletive deleted) job and find out what it’s like to go out and earn a (expletive deleted) living. Eighty-five percent of the (expletive deleted) world is working. The other fifteen percent come out here. . .
"We got guys bustin’ their (expletive deleted) (expletive deleted), and them (expletive deleted) people boo. And that’s the Cubs? My (expletive deleted) (expletive deleted). They talk about the great (expletive deleted) support the players get around here. I haven’t see it this (expletive deleted) year."
There were calls for Elia to be fired. He wasn’t, at least not in the firestorm that immediately followed his rant, and you have to wonder if that in itself wasn’t telling. Maybe in their heart of hearts, his bosses agreed with at least part of his assessment.
Respect, like trust, must be reciprocated. Ryne Sandberg’s message makes sense. Who knows? Maybe some baseball players, managers, owners and fans were listening.
( This appears in the August 2, 2005 Oak Lawn (IL) )
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