10

Bit of seriousness today. Last Friday I joined the mourning of thousands in Chicago upon hearing about the death of legendary Chicago Cubs player, broadcaster, advocate, and ultimate fan - Ron Santo.

I don't usually feel strong connections when public figures or celebrities die, its usually a brief moment of "that's too bad", a moment of remembrance, and moving on. But Ron's passing hit hard and I feel like its reverberations will be felt for more than just a few days. In fact, I think the sadness will be especially palpable when the 2011 Cubs start their season and Ron Santo's voice will be absent from the airwaves.

I don't want to pretend that I'm in any position to give a eulogy on Ron's amazing life and career, plenty of reporters and people who knew Ron can do that much better.

All I know is that being a Cubs fan is hard. We suck a lot. I've seen more wasted opportunities and depressing seasons that any fan outside of Cleveland should have to endure. Ron's amazing enthusiasm and affable personality made those painful games a bit easier to listen too.

And, on the few occasions when the Cubs were actually successful, hearing Ron's exclamations of joy made victory all the more sweet.

Pat Hughes brought up Ron's blatant homer-ism in a piece in the Tribune:

Of course, everyone remembers Ron's famous "Oh, no" call on the dropped fly by Brant Brown. I swear, his forehead was glued to the table after that one. I thought he'd died. What most people don't know is manager Jim Riggleman had to comfort Ronnie afterward, putting his arm around him, telling him not to worry, that the Cubs still would go to the playoffs.

A manager cheering up a broadcaster? Do you think Mike Ditka ever tried to cheer up Wayne Larrivee? This was a first in professional sports. I had to look away. It was a terrible day, and I didn't want anyone to see me laughing.

And there's so, SO much to say about Ron's charity work and battle with Diabetes. Again, much will be said and done in the coming days. I'm glad that Ron's family has suggested in lieu of sending flowers or cards that fans donate to JDRF.

In addition to everything great about Ron Santo the broadcaster, the fan, and the man, there was also Ron Santo the player.

A great player. One of the all-time best for his era. Its a shame so much discussion in the wake of his death centers on the Hall of Fame's committee's stubborn refusal to let him in. The important thing is that Ron's #10 flies in the wind over Wrigley Field.

On that note, one of the best idiosyncrasies of baseball is the timelessness of statistics. Though HGH and Flintstone vitamins may cast some periods under suspicion, there's little doubt that in Santo's time, his numbers stood alone. So, in a baseball geek's tribute to the exuberant third basement who munched on candy bars in between innings to keep his blood sugar up, the career statistics of Ron Santo.