Continuing with my Tuesday Top Ten Athletes of All-Time series:
#2: George Brett
George Brett started his major league career at just about the same time I started following baseball—1974. He was everything a baseball player is supposed to be. He cared more about his team than he did his individual statistics. He hustled hard on every play. And the continual smile on his face told you he enjoyed and appreciated every moment he had while on the diamond.
Brett was a 12–time All-Star, the MVP of the American League (1980), a Gold Glove winner (1985), and he put up huge numbers. In fact, he was the first player to ever accumulate 3,000 hits, 300 home runs, 600 doubles, 100 triples, 1,500 RBI, and 200 stolen bases—all of which led to his Hall of Fame induction in 1999.
So many of the things he did are ingrained in my mind. They are part of my childhood. Who can forget his magical 1980 season when he chased .400 when nobody thought it was possible (nobody had done it since Ted Williams in 1941)? I got chills when he lifted his arms at second base to acknowledge the fans during a game in August when he doubled to go over the .400 mark (he ended up at .390). I can still hear the crack of the bat when he turned on a 98 mph Goose Gossage fastball in Game 3 of the 1980 playoffs that landed in the upper deck in New York. And I still love to watch the video of Brett embracing Bret Saberhagen on the mound after the Royals won the World Series in 1985.
As he approached the end of his career, I filed away many other great memories. I was in the stadium during one hot July afternoon (probably around 1990) when Kauffman Stadium (then called Royals Stadium) still had astroturf. George already had several hits that afternoon, but with the Royals trailing by a run, he hit a high looping shot to left-center field, and he took second knowing that the ball would bounce high. He surprised the outfielder, and he went on to score the winning run. That was the way he played the game. I can still hear Fred White’s call of Brett’s 3,000th hit in Anaheim in 1992. I was in the stadium for Brett’s final game in Kansas City in 1993. Emotion hung in the air during his final at bat, during which he singled up the middle to drive in a run. After the game, he got down on all fours at home plate and kissed it. I could hear sobs throughout the stadium, and I was fighting back the tears too.
Such great memories of the greatest player to ever wear a Royals’ uniform.
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