Ron Santo - humble hero

Ron Santo – humble hero

A hero has gone from among us. Ron Santo, sportscaster and former third baseman for the Chicago Cubs finally lost his battle with cancer and his lifelong enemy, diabetes on December second. Santo was exemplary in so many ways. He was a ten-time National League All-star pick, four times a Golden Glove winner and awarded the Lou Gehrig Award in 1973 by Phi Delta Theta. He scored 1,138 runs, batted in 1,133, put out almost 4,600 runners, led the league in triples in 1964 and got on base 3,400 times. That is the stuff of eight and nine digit salaries these days. This brings up the most noticeable way that Ron Santo was exemplary.

It may seem trite to note that Ron Santo was a different breed of professional athlete than we often see today. His exploits were outstanding. His ego was not. Ron Santo was a humble man. He did not show up in the celebrity gossip columns or the police blotter. He did his job and went home to his family. He was far from unusual in this during the years that he played. Very few players in the sixties and seventies did any trash-talking or grandstanding in press conferences. Those who did were not usually well regarded by their teammates or the fans.

This is a major reason that Ron Santo was so beloved by those who were his fans during his career. It was the humility that cemented the affection and made it so long-lasting that Santo was still well regarded long after he retired from the field and will be easily and fondly remembered for many years now that he is gone. Ron was a phenomenon on the baseball diamond but he saw himself as a common guy who just happened to work on a baseball diamond. The third base line was his office. He did his job and then he took off the uniform with the number 10 on it and went home. The closest he ever came to bragging was to run down the third base line and click his heels after a home win. Ron Santo will be greatly missed by those who miss a more innocent type of professional athlete. I like to think I can picture number 10 going along a golden road, clicking his heels. Farewell, Ron!