Finding that inner peace suits Thomas

Frank Thomas finally is letting people embrace him for who he is rather than what he thought he should be.

At his retirement news conference, Thomas allowed a peek at a more humble and vulnerable Big Hurt.

Frank Thomas was back to being the likable young guy he was during his first spring training 20 years ago - only now he has Hall of Fame credentials.

Thomas isn't fighting the fight for respect as he did most of his career. He isn't chasing an entrepreneurial "Big Hurt Enterprises" empire. He isn't trying to be another Michael Jordan.

"Not having a lot as a kid," Thomas explained, "I always wanted a lot."

Friday, though, Frank Thomas just wanted to be Frank Thomas, and that was enough, just as it always would have been.

No athlete to come through Chicago was more complex.

The former White Sox first baseman/designated hitter was as good a hitter as ever passed through here, yet he never quite became to the Sox what Jordan was to the Bulls and Walter Payton was to the Bears.

Only rarely was Thomas referred to as Mr. Sox as Ernie Banks was as Mr. Cub.

Thomas should have been more popular than he was, and more marketable. He had the engaging "Big Hurt" nickname, an imposing presence and historic statistics.

But it seemed that Thomas never was at peace within himself, which made it difficult to be at peace with him.

In a way Friday, Thomas was like one of those athletes who says hello as he's saying goodbye.

During much of his 16 seasons here Thomas was uneasy with somebody or something - management or managers or teammates or the media or working conditions or his contract or sometimes even himself.

As a result Thomas didn't have the time to figure out public relations like the right thing to say, the right way to say it, the right thing to do and the right way to do it.

That always bothered me because I was fortunate enough to witness the Frank Thomas Era from start to finish, from highs to lows, from Big Hurt to big hurt.

I liked Thomas from the beginning and wanted others to like him. It was frustrating that he kept being so frustrating.

Thomas' first major-league spring training in 1990 at Sarasota, Fla., provided hints of what he was all about as a player.

Manager Jeff Torborg said the industrial-sized Thomas wouldn't get out of shape, and he was right. General manager Larry Himes said Thomas was better already than a lot of prominent major-league hitters, and he was right. Thomas was OK with not making the Sox that spring because he wanted to be fully ready, and he soon was.

Thomas always seemed to fear that being imperfect would be embarrassing, one reason he was so eager to move from first base to designated hitter.

Thomas often puzzled even those closest to him who liked and respected him the most.

Now, though, Frank Thomas appears to be as happy emerging from the back end of his major-league career as he was entering the front end.

Good for him and good for all of us who hoped he would.

mimrem@dailyherald.com