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| Monday, February 17 Updated: March 13, 12:57 PM ET Reflecting on a legendary career By Jim Caple ESPN.com |
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Ah, the reliable traditions of spring training. Every camp is open. Every manager is telling reporters he is excited about his team -- even Ned Yost. The backpages of the New York tabloids are being reserved for the daily headlines in the Derek Jeter-George Steinbrenner feud. Dozens of Japanese reporters are carefully recording and evaluating every swing Ichiro takes in batting practice. And Rickey Henderson is nowhere to be seen.
Rickey's absence, of course, isn't unusual. Even when he has a contract, he never shows up on time. But there is a catch this year. With spring training heading toward its second week, Rickey still doesn't have a team to add to his collection. He isn't the only veteran without a job -- Chuck Finley, Kenny Rogers, Kenny Lofton, Reggie Sanders and Chuck Knoblauch are also still looking for work -- but Rickey is the only one who can put future Hall-of-Famer on his resume. He is so desperate for work that he showed up at Oakland's fan festival two weekends ago to make a blatant pitch for a job. It would be his fifth stint with the Athletics, but general manager Billy Beane said Oakland has even less interest in "Rickey V" than the world did in "Rocky V.'' And, according to a report in the Denver Post, Henderson is considering attending an open tryout camp with the Rockies next week. Rickey has been in this position before. Two years ago, he didn't sign with anyone until the Padres offered him a minor-league contract near the end of spring training. He wound up getting his 3,000th hit that season. He was a relatively young 42 that year, however, and coming off a fairly decent season in which he stole 36 bases, scored 75 runs and had a .368 on-base percentage. He's 44 this spring and while he still had a .369 on-base percentage last season, he stole only eight bases, scored only 40 runs and batted only 179 times, all career-lows by far. He didn't have a hit in September and had only 11 hits and two stolen bases after the All-Star break. He's aggravated more general managers than anyone in the world not named Scott Boras, few of whom will be looking to extend him any favors. Rickey says he's willing to accept a role position at the big league minimum salary, but that's only what he's saying now in order to get a job. The truth is that while Rickey has been a tremendous player to have in the lineup during his career, he's been rather undesirable to have on the bench for more than a game or two at a time. The man is a Hall of Fame pouter. As Terry Steinbach once said when I asked what kind of teammate Rickey is, it depends on when you ask.
If this is the end of the line for Rickey, we'll miss him more than we realize. He is the finest leadoff hitter in the game's history, the all-time leader in runs, stolen bases and walks, a first-ballot Hall-of-Famer and one of the 20 greatest position players in history. He can blame himself for not getting his fair due over the years – he has alienated many as baseball's indisputable all-time leader in ego – but it's time to recognize him for what he is: one of the most entertaining players of the past quarter-century. Back before home runs became all the game's obsession, back when Roger Maris' record seemed unapproachable, back when a 5.00 ERA got a pitcher released instead of a three-year $15 million extension, watching Rickey dismantle opposing teams was the greatest show in baseball. Pitching to Rickey back then was as frustrating as peeling the shrink-wrap and protective tape of a CD. With Rickey's batting crouch and his patience at the plate, it was easier to slip a wedding cake through a mail slot than to throw him a strike. If a pitcher backed down and grooved him a pitch, Rickey would hit it out of the park (he has more home runs (295) than Hack Wilson, including 79 leading off a game). If a pitcher refused to give in, Rickey was content to take the walk and pose an even larger problem at first base than he did at home plate. He either would steal second or distract the pitcher so much that he made a mistake to the next batter. Watching him dance off first base -- Will he go? Will he go? Will he go? There he goes! -- was as enjoyable as watching Gene Kelly in a rainstorm.
Off the field, he could be even better. He once missed a game due to frostbite -- in August. Asked last year whether Ken Caminiti's estimate that 50 percent of all players took steroids, Rickey replied, "Well, I'm not one of them, so that's 49 percent right there.'' And then there is the apocryphal Rickey story from when he joined the Mariners and supposedly said to John Olerud, "You know I used to play with a guy who wore a helmet all the time.'' Olerud's alleged reply: "That was me. We were teammates.'' Sadly, that helmet story is a complete fabrication. But as Olerud acknowledged when I asked him about it, it sure sounds like it could be true. Yes, Rickey could be insufferable at times but the great ones usually are. That's what makes them great. That's what makes them interesting. Rickey is infamous for yanking the base out of the dirt and screaming "I am the greatest!" when he broke Lou Brock's stolen base record, but I prefer to remember the way he celebrated when he broke Ty Cobb's career record for most runs. He hit a home run, trotted around the bases and slid into home plate. Travis Lee never provides that sort of entertainment. After 24 spectacular, incredibly entertaining seasons, Rickey deserves an appreciative sendoff but he'll never get it because he refuses to tell us when it's time to say good bye. That means he'll have to congratulate himself on his superb career. That's too bad, but you know something, I think the man is up to the challenge. Jim Caple is a senior writer for ESPN.com. |
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