WHY I'VE ALWAYS LINKED CHRISTMAS TO THE YANKEES

You know who my favorite ballplayer of all time is… Rickey Henderson was the guy I wanted to be in little league and I would mimic his movement as he inched away from the bag and then darted to second base. Yes, it’s true, I was a huge Yankee fan and when he was on the Oakland Athletics, it didn’t matter much to me, baseball fans do that. They latch on to guys they love to watch and appreciate. For me, that was Rickey Henderson, the Man of Steel and there was no other.

Let me also mention that when it came to little, scrawny me, I didn’t even come close to muscle or appearance, but I nailed the impersonation of Rickey, or, at least I thought so. One season I stole something like 40 bases. I remember that not because little league tallied them for us, they really didn't. I remember that because I wrote my stats on an index card after every game. Pathetic I know, but when your a kid who has a hero, you tend to want to be them. No doubt, I wanted to be Rickey. I just remember that once I perfected how to bunt, I'd steal my way around the bases and do it the Rickey way. But enough about me being 10, there is actually a point to all of this.

 

On December 5, 1984, the New York Yankees did the unthinkable… They sent a bunch of guys, Jose Rijo, Eric Plunk, Jay Howell, Stan Javier and Tim Birtsas to Oakland for Rickey and Bert Bradley. I remember at the time, it was going to be the best Christmas and the best 1985 season EVER. Soon, I was able to replace my Henderson Oakland A’s 8x10 photo with a Yankee one. I snagged up all his cards and it clearly was one of the happiest times for me as a New York Yankees fan.

Christmas and Rickey Henderson for me, will always be connected and for some odd reason, at least once, even now in my adult years, I think about Rickey when it’s December. It’s not that I’m obsessed with the dude anymore. Instead, it’s just a fond memory, it just brings be back to 1984, just for a second.

To this day I try to teach my kids the importance of speed in baseball. My 9-year-old uses it to his advantage; he’s like an gazelle, although he takes a page from the Brett Gardner handbook, a slight lean toward second with his right hand pointing toward the dugout.

Yeah, we all have heroes, but mine happens to be one I had as a giddy Yankee fan back in 1984 and I’ll forever remember where I was when I found out Rickey was coming to New York. The next several years, I loved watching him in pinstripes… it was one of the greatest moments of my life, that’s for sure and it's all coming back to me again this Christmas...27 years later. Man, how time flies.

Merry Christmas everyone.