They announced today that Rickey Henderson has made the Hall of Fame, on his first year of eligibility to boot. I couldn't be happier. The man only played for the Yankees for four seasons (1985-1989) but there was something very important about his first year in New York: it was also the first year I fell in love with baseball.
The summer of 1985 was monumental for me: I started to understand the great game of baseball, had my first catch with my dad (I even got to use his original glove from the 50s-and I ended this important milestone by throwing the ball right into his chest) and went to my first Yankee game. It was August and my dad and I drove up to the Bronx (1985 Bronx, not now Bronx, it had literally just stopped burning). As we got on the road and closer to the Stadium, I could see we were in a galaxy most definitely far away from the 'burbs, and I loved it. The graffiti, the squeegee guys and the beauty underneath the urban grime, I was drawn right to it. When you walk up to it for the first time, it is striking and it really is an experience. But even more so is when you step inside The House That Ruth Built. I'll never forget being blown away as my dad pointed to the field and talked about the legends he saw play there like The Mick and so many others. I was in my element and looking at my dad's face, certain he was reliving the first time he did this with his own father, I knew he was too.
Rickey didn't have the game highlight (though he did go 2-3 with a double, 2 runs and a stolen base), that honor goes to Ken Griffey, Sr. The man broke his arm while extending it over the left field wall for what otherwise definitely would have been a home run ball. Rickey wasn't even my favorite player of that era (he's 3rd behind Don Mattingly and Dave Winfield). Even so, that day no. 24 was put into the hero category. Donnie Baseball was the guy that everyone wanted to be, the All-American player and Winfield was the suave power hitter, but Rickey had something like NOBODY else- speed (that and the same name as my brother, which always drove me nuts because I'd missed Graig Nettles by like five years). It was a blast to see him steal base after base after base and fool the pitcher every single time. On the rare occasion in Little League that I did reach base (and even when I play softball now), I'm Rickey Henderson. I am the exact opposite of All-American (I don't shave enough to qualify) and suave- we'll I'd rather just move on. But I can run and I can run fast. I'd step off of 1st, crouch in the set position and take off, without a thought of what I was leaving behind. I'd even push my helmet towards the top of my head so it would be more susceptible to falling off, like I'd seen happen with Rickey (still a cool move). Rickey was cocky and a bit of a hot shot and THAT'S what I wanted to be.
Henderson's going into the Hall but it was only a couple of years ago that he was playing in the Independent League for the Newark Bears, ready to get back to the league that he took by storm with his ability and speed. When all is said and done, I think that's what all of us aspire to be- no matter how much we've accomplished, we don't give up on ourselves and strive for more, and we do so going at full speed. Congrats, Rickey.
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