Editorial: Celebrating White Sox star Jim Thome's Hall of Fame induction
Today, as Jim Thome is inducted into the National Baseball Hall of Fame, we pause at the memories the Illinois native produced in his remarkable 22-year major league career.
Admittedly, many are painful, inflicted on the White Sox during Thome's long tenure in Cleveland or on the Cubs during his time in Philadelphia.
And yes, when he played with the Sox, we gritted our teeth sometimes that he refused to beat the ever-present shift with a bunt down the third baseline.
But how strict was his plate discipline. How majestic were his home runs.
And how good-natured is the man.
Hall of Fame sports careers are built in all shapes and sizes. There's the hustle and tenacity of Nellie Fox, the meticulous discipline of Greg Maddux, the transparent emotion of Ron Santo, the sparkle of Luis Aparicio, the athletic elegance of Ernie Banks, the power of Frank Thomas, the singularity of Hoyt Wilhelm.
Thome's career certainly was built on brawn and Ruthian clout.
But as much as that, his appeal has been built on Midwestern values and selfless affability, on the good sportsmanship Thome has displayed since his days in Peoria.
Jim Thome is genuinely nice. Being nice alone won't get you a ticket to Cooperstown, but it certainly increases the celebration when you do.
After he hit the decisive home run in the "Blackout" game that ended up putting the White Sox into the 2008 playoffs, Jim Thome circled the bases in an expressionless trot like he had done it before.
And of course, he had. Up to that point in his major leaguer career, 540 times before, as a matter of fact. Before his career ended, he amassed 612.
For a Sox fan, none was more memorable than that Blackout game bomb a decade ago that soared high over the center field wall in the bottom half of the 7th to break up a tense pitchers duel John Danks went on to win, 1-0.
The crowd, dressed universally in black, went wild; the scoreboard exploded; but Thome reacted with professional aplomb as the lethal hitter he was.
He showed no emotion until reaching home plate where he provided a quick two-handed tap to on-deck hitter Paul Konerko's helmet and then to his shoulders before quickly turning for the dugout. On the way there, he paused once more to wrap Ken Griffey Jr. in a bear hug that was as brief as it was mighty.
It was typical Jim Thome, sportsman. And as of today, Hall of Famer.