In 1993, the Yankees got Paul O'Neill in a trade from the Reds. I didn't know very much about him at the time, except that in a game against the Phillies, when he couldn't hold onto the ball, he kicked it to the infielder to keep Steve Jeltz from scoring. I thought the idea of a baseball player kicking the ball to the infield was pretty hilarious. My grandfather always said there was something about Paul that I wouldn't understand until I got older.
I remember watching game after game where Paul would get frustrated with himself during an at bat, and walk into the dugout, kicking over Gatorade coolers. I always wondered why he never just gave up. If you got that frustrated at work, then maybe you should do something else. But that wasn't Paul. He'd walk into that batters box during his next AB, and swing with everything he had.
When I was in elementary school, I had a hard time with reading and spelling. Honestly, I don't know when it changed, but I remember hating reading because I just couldn't do it. The words never made sense to me. It was frustrating. I remember coming home one day after school and throwing a huge fit. I was getting picked on it school over something that was a legitimate weakness for me. I was in fifth grade, reading on a 2nd grade level. Everyone knew it. It hurt and I hated it.
My grandfather let me have my break down. He just stayed clear until I was done. And then he turned on the Yankees game. And there was Paul. I watched that game. Paul struck out, had his fit, and then went back into that batters box. My grandfather looked at me, and without saying another word, handed me a book.
It was a lesson I didn't get until I was older, but it worked. I clung to Paul after that. There was no one greater than him in pinstripes. Regardless of what happened, Paul gave his all. He gave 110% on the field. And isn't that really what life is about? You get knocked down sometimes. But you get up, kicking and screaming and ready to battle your way back up. You do what you have to do. It's not about being knocked down, it's about kicking over the Gatorade cooler and getting back in the game.
I got lucky. I started watching Yankees baseball when Bernie Williams was still a rookie, Don Mattingly still wore pinstripes, and Mike Gallego, not Derek Jeter, wore number 2.
I got to witness David Cone and David Wells pitch perfect games. Jim Abbott pitched a no hitter on my birthday. I played witness to the Core Four and the Dynasty years. I love this game. But the lesson I learned about life from Paul O'Neill is one I hold above all others.
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