Editorial: Ernie Banks and the radiance of his eternal optimism

Daily Herald Editorial Board

What can we say about the legendary Ernie Banks that hasn't been said before?

Given the remembrances that have sprung forth from the White House to Chicago's City Hall, from the scribes and the broadcasters, from the ballplayers and the fans, probably not much.

Our Cubs expert, Bruce Miles, probably gave as good an assessment as there is to give when he wrote the other day that "as Cubs fans say their final farewells to Ernie Banks this week, they might not remember all of the numbers and the alphabet soup that accompanies them. They'll remember his smile and eternal optimism."

All of us have our own personal heroes. Most spring from our own lives - a parent, a teacher, a friend, a colleague, someone we admire and respect who inspires us and maybe even leaves us a little awe-struck, too.

Then there are the heroes of our times, the larger-than-life figures who rise to greatness of one sort or another. Many of these heroes touch most of us but not all.

And that's one of the things that set Ernie apart. His heroism transcended the normal boundaries. He was a hero equally to both blacks and whites, even in a day when many whites didn't believe in black heroes. He was a hero to young and old, to sports agnostics as well as fans.

He was a hero beyond his team.

How many young White Sox fans of the era when Banks played mimicked the finger-wiggling batting style that he employed?

White Sox fans? The ones who take pleasure in Cubby failures? The ones who root for the Cubs to lose as much as they root for the Sox to win?

Those fans hated their crosstown rivals, but they still loved Ernie.

As White Sox owner Jerry Reinsdorf observed last week, Ernie wasn't just Mr. Cub. He was, quite accurately, Mr. Baseball, too. As President Barack Obama noted, he was one of baseball's greatest ambassadors.

What made him such a transcendent hero, one who made a city pause Wednesday in tribute?

It was not just the home runs and his link to Wrigley Field's ivy. And it wasn't just his connection to Baseball's Golden Age, although his name inevitably brings our thoughts to all of that.

What words can we add to all that have been spoken in memory of the great Ernie Banks?

Maybe they're not our words at all. Maybe we just pause and let Mr. Cub sum himself up with his own observations:

"The riches of the game are the thrills, not the money," he once told The Sporting News.

And this, from Baseball Almanac:

"You must try to generate happiness within yourself. If you aren't happy in one place, chances are you won't be happy anyplace."

And of course, this:

"It's a beautiful day for a ballgame. Let's play two!"