Sammy’s Sportsmanship

We’ve got strutting, flaunting, taunting. We’ve got celebratory dances and players raking their fingers across their throats. We’ve got helmets off, trash talking, self-absorbed maniacs running amok. We’ve got men, women, adults and teen-agers behaving badly. We’ve got egos on parade, 365 days a year, from high school to the pros. What we don’t have nearly enough of is humility or graciousness, which is why Sammy Sosa’s contribution to this baseball season is, in the context of sport and sportsmanship, just as important as Mark McGwire reaching 62 home runs.

It’s a shame Sosa’s virtuous behavior has to stand out, but it does. It’s so rare, in fact, that your first instinct might be to think he’s putting you on. The first time I heard Sosa say, “Mark’s the one to break the record. ... Mark’s the man. He’s my idol, I watch him and root for him every night,” I thought it was a gag. I was waiting for the part of the soundbite where he was going to be flippant, or surly, or sarcastic. But it never came. That’s all there was to it; he thought Mark McGwire was the best home run hitter he’d ever seen and he was rooting for him.

These days, everybody’s throwing around the phrase “old school” without knowing that no single act can qualify you for that compliment. It’s a state of being. Deion isn’t old school, Darrell Green is. Avery Johnson of the San Antonio Spurs is old school. John Stockton is old school, Karl Malone isn’t. Jerry Rice is old school, Michael Irvin isn’t. Junior Griffey isn’t, but Sammy Sosa is -- definitely. It has to do with selflessness, humility and propriety. You can’t be old school without a sense of modesty, even if you are one of the best in the world at what you do. You can’t be old school without sportsmanship. You can’t be old school and think that the act of complimenting another competitor makes you weak.

Maybe with Sosa much of his humility comes from the fact that he shined shoes as a kid and wouldn’t have played organized baseball were it not for one of his brothers who sacrificed his career because he felt it was Sammy who had the real future. Maybe it comes from Sosa playing inside the same friendly confines as Ernie Banks and Billy Williams and even Hack Wilson, whose team- and National League home run record he broke.

Whatever the factors, Sosa is due thanks from the sporting world. Part of me, the lifelong Cub fan in me, is fretful Sosa won’t hit another home run this season. Either way, it seems Sosa has another purpose in this home run chase and that would be to make us take a look at ourselves. Little Leagues (and their parents for that matter) will find it easier and more helpful to their daily lives to emulate Sosa’s behavior than McGwire’s swing. You don’t get repeated standing ovations in the most enemy of enemy ballparks for home runs alone. One reason I went to Wrigley Field -- as a fan, not a reporter -- Wednesday was so that I could stand at my seat and applaud Sammy Sosa. I can’t think of any circumstances that would lead me to stand and applaud Albert Belle, even if he hit 100 homers in a season.

Even if carrying himself with dignity comes naturally to Sosa, it’s still not easy being the second banana these days, particularly in sports. Not many people handle it so gracefully. Ask Scottie Pippen. Sosa’s provided the blueprint for how to cope in the spotlight. If you can’t wallow in it like Pete Rose, then enjoy it like Sosa. With his clutch bashing and his playfulness, Sosa elevated himself, McGwire and the whole hyped chase.

I know the Maris record stood for 37 years. But how long do you think it’s been since somebody hit .400? Try 57 years since Ted Williams hit .406 in 1941. It’s also been 57 years since anybody hit safely in 56 consecutive games. As impressive as it is to hit 60 or more home runs, to me it’s more impressive to do anything successfully every single day. I mean, nobody’s come close to DiMaggio in 57 years. How incredible is that? You mean to tell me if somebody was to break that record next summer it wouldn’t be as impressive as McGwire passing Maris?

And if you’ve simply got a fascination with home runs and you want to defend Selig by saying the single most impressive baseball record has to be a home run record, then what happened to Henry Aaron’s record? You can listen all you want to radio seamheads who say “61 is the most treasured number in sports” if you want to. It is only if you’re between 45 and 50 years old and you were a young, impressionable kid when Maris broke Ruth’s record and anything that happened when you were 12 has to be the most important thing in the world, right?

Please.

The most important number in baseball history was 714. And that, baby, is home runs. Heck, 714 is still the most important number and Aaron passed that 24 years ago. No single season record can be as big as the career record in the same category. People with calmer heads have convinced me Selig just got caught up in the moment and didn’t mean to slight Aaron the other night in celebrating McGwire. But given the fact that no commissioner was present to celebrate Aaron break Ruth’s record, I’m more than a little sensitive to slights involving Aaron.

Henry Aaron is the home run king. Period.

Let’s get a grip here. What McGwire has accomplished this summer is absolutely breathtaking in the context of individual achievement. But there’s no need to try to devalue accomplishments through the ages. Everything can be enjoyed, can’t it? Aren’t we learning anything from Sosa, who if we listen carefully enough will teach us that starting out from home with a skip, a tap to the heart and a kiss blown to mama can make us all feel so much better.