Now is the time to rejoice for Santo
Old habits die hard.
In trying to come up with a column on the late Ron Santo’s induction to baseball’s Hall of Fame, I reflexively reached for a copy of a book by Bill James, “Whatever Happened to the Hall of Fame?”
James’ first sentence in a section about Santo reads: “If I were in control of the Hall of Fame’s selections the first player I would choose would be Ron Santo.”
That’s no longer necessary.
Cubs fans and Santo supporters no longer need James or any other advocates.
No longer do they need to point out how Santo was the National League’s version of Brooks Robinson in his day or that his numbers are better than those of George Kell or Pie Traynor.
No, all Cubs fans and Santo supporters have to do today is rejoice.
Yes, rejoice. Your guy was enshrined Sunday in Cooperstown.
Santo isn’t here to enjoy the honor, and that’s a shame. Some have called Santo’s posthumous election to the Hall of Fame “bittersweet” because he died before he could gain entrance to baseball’s shrine.
To that I say, do what those who knew him best are doing, and that’s forgetting the bitter and focusing on the sweet.
That’s what the Santo family seems to be doing, and it seems to be what his former Hall of Fame teammates are doing.
When Santo died in 2010, I had the duty of writing his obituary for the Daily Herald. Where does one begin? After some thought, it occurred to me at the time that Ron Santo managed to pack three fulfilling careers into one 70-year-old life.
He was, and feel free to say it now, a Hall of Fame baseball player. He was a successful businessman. And he became a transcendent figure in all of Cubdom during a wonderful, and sometimes wacky, career as a radio broadcaster.
Santo’s first career is what got him into the Hall of Fame, and we’ll acknowledge here the honest dissenters who no doubt still feel Santo doesn’t belong. That’s their right, but their fight should be over, too.
Ronnie’s in.
His third career gave Santo the visibility to gain momentum toward Hall of Fame election. He was in the public eye every day, and fans in other major-league cities got reacquainted with Ronnie.
But as successful as Santo was in his middle career, I can’t help but wonder that it didn’t hurt his chances for the Hall.
After the 1974 baseball season, Santo retired following one unhappy year with the White Sox. While with the Cubs from 1960-73, Santo already was establishing himself in the Chicago business community, and he dived in full force after his playing career was done.
It was during this interregnum that Santo all but disappeared from the consciousness of baseball fans in Chicago and national media members.
In the pre-Internet days, there was little fanfare when Santo first became eligible for Hall of Fame election by the Baseball Writers Association of America.
The sabermetrics revolution, which would come to be a great friend of Santo’s candidacy, was in its infancy, and there were no organized campaigns such as the ones you see today to get Santo elected.
So Santo fell off the ballot early, only to be reinstated later through the efforts of Hall of Fame Chicago baseball writer Jerome Holtzman.
Santo fell short again, but his third career on the radio and as a tireless spokesman for diabetes research made him a folk hero among Cubs fans, giving him his own special place next to teammates Ernie Banks, Billy Williams and Fergie Jenkins.
Last December, Santo finally got in, a year after he died.
For those who knew Ron Santo, it’s awfully hard to talk about him without getting personal. He was as genuine as they come and doubly generous.
What you heard on the radio is what you got with Ronnie. That was no act. And woe betide anyone who dared try to pick up a dinner check or a drink tab. Ronnie would hear none of it.
Whenever he’d meet someone who, like himself, lived with diabetes, he’d turn serious, expressing concern and asking questions before turning upbeat and telling the person to keep fighting and that a cure was in the offing.
With Sunday’s induction to the Hall of Fame making it all official and ceremonial, the time to fight and lobby is over. All that’s left to do now is rejoice.
Rejoice. Ron Santo is safe at home. In the Hall of Fame.