I’m not entirely sure when or how it all started, but it was in the late 80s when I got my first intro to Rickey Henderson. As a youth I was just getting into baseball, both as a player in little league and a fan. My earliest recollection of a World Series was in 1989, when the A’s sweep of the near-by San Fransisco Giants was overshadowed by the earthquake. At the time the A’s were a very good team, with a young nucleus of power hitters Mark McGwire and Jose Canseco, and Rickey Henderson had just rejoined the team after a stint with the Yankees. Since Utah had/has no major league team, I naturally latched onto the team that was the best at the time. The A’s were world champions, and they were now my team.
Next on the agenda was to find a favorite player. This part is a little fuzzy to me, but I went to a local store to get a poster. Considering my naivety, my brother was (at the time) a sports’ guru compared to me. My goal was to get a “cool” poster, preferably one sports related, but I was flexible. As I was flipping through the posters, I remember noticing a Karl Malone poster and a Bash Brothers poster of Jose and Mark. Then, another A’s player poster showed up. I’m pretty sure I didn’t know who he was at the time, but if he had a poster, he must be good – Rickey Henderson was his name.
My brother probably informed me that he was a really good player, that he was fast, and inherently skilled at stealing bases. That was enough for me, I was sold.
Over the years, I would collect Rickey’s baseball cards wherever I could. It got to the point that, even though my team was still the A’s, I cheered for whatever team Rickey was on, Toronto, San Diego, New York, Anaheim, Seattle, Boston, Los Angeles, and several return trips to Oakland. I loved learning about Rickey’s accomplishments. My Sunday morning ritual would be: put some Eggo waffles in the toaster, grab the paper, pull out the sports section, and quickly scan to see what Rickey’s year-to-date stats were while meticulously eating my Eggos. You can probably bet my excitement when I found out that Rickey’s minor-league record for stolen bases in a single game happened on my birthday. Even after the lockout almost completely destroyed my passion for MLB, the fact that Rickey was still playing kept me a fan.
Congrats to Rickey for being called to the Hall of Fame.
Next on the agenda was to find a favorite player. This part is a little fuzzy to me, but I went to a local store to get a poster. Considering my naivety, my brother was (at the time) a sports’ guru compared to me. My goal was to get a “cool” poster, preferably one sports related, but I was flexible. As I was flipping through the posters, I remember noticing a Karl Malone poster and a Bash Brothers poster of Jose and Mark. Then, another A’s player poster showed up. I’m pretty sure I didn’t know who he was at the time, but if he had a poster, he must be good – Rickey Henderson was his name.
My brother probably informed me that he was a really good player, that he was fast, and inherently skilled at stealing bases. That was enough for me, I was sold.
Over the years, I would collect Rickey’s baseball cards wherever I could. It got to the point that, even though my team was still the A’s, I cheered for whatever team Rickey was on, Toronto, San Diego, New York, Anaheim, Seattle, Boston, Los Angeles, and several return trips to Oakland. I loved learning about Rickey’s accomplishments. My Sunday morning ritual would be: put some Eggo waffles in the toaster, grab the paper, pull out the sports section, and quickly scan to see what Rickey’s year-to-date stats were while meticulously eating my Eggos. You can probably bet my excitement when I found out that Rickey’s minor-league record for stolen bases in a single game happened on my birthday. Even after the lockout almost completely destroyed my passion for MLB, the fact that Rickey was still playing kept me a fan.
Congrats to Rickey for being called to the Hall of Fame.
2 comments:
If I recall, I used some of my hard earned milk money in elementary school to acquire one of my first baseball cards, none other than Mr. Henderson. It seems we were introduced to baseball around the same time. My first World Series memory was 1988, and of course I vividly remember the 1989 earthquake series. I was so confused why coverage of the baseball game had stopped, and why I was suddenly being subjected to Roseanne reruns. I detailed my introduction to baseball and the Yankees in a couple of blog posts last year. Check 'em out:
The House That Ruth Built - Part I
The House That Ruth Built - Part II
What quirky little facts I am learning about you Jesse!
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