From the New York Times:
At about 10:45 a.m. on Sunday, I was in the clubhouse in Baltimore in the middle of a domino game with Eddie Guardado, Gary Pettis, and Eric Hurley. Ron Washington was standing over my shoulder talking trash like he always does and had everybody laughing hysterically when he asked me to come see him in his office for a minute.
I dropped everything and headed to his office wondering: “What have I done now?”
He gave me the news and a congratulatory hug, with a smile, but told me to keep the news quiet until it was officially announced. I went back to the domino game like nothing happened but Eddie being the wise vet already knew what’s up. He just smiled and gave me dap on making my first All-Star team.
Besides the birth of my son, I don’t think I’ve had a prouder moment in my life. The embrace with Wash was a special one. It felt like a father-son moment to me. In 30 years, I’ve never really had one of those so I can only imagine that’s what it must feel like.
As a 16-year-old sophomore at Long Beach Polytechnic High School in California, I could only dream there would be days like that one. I knew I wanted to be a major leaguer. Following in the footsteps of the great Tony Gwynn (Poly’s most esteemed baseball alumnus) I feel like I’ve finally arrived. Taking the field in the Big Apple for the final year of historic Yankee Stadium, where so many greats have stood before me, I am humbled. This is why Jackie Robinson endured unspeakable hate and prejudice. So I — some 60 odd years later — have the opportunity to play this great game of baseball. So I can stand up and be recognized. So I can be proud to be who I am. So I can be proud to be an American.
Last September, I was being peeled up off the dirt in San Diego with a torn ACL. I was completely written off by the baseball world. I was barely given a chance to be ready to play by the All-Star break, let alone be a part of the annual celebration. But my hard head refused to listen to the nay-sayers. “I’ll be ready for opening day,” I arrogantly proclaimed last December before I was even able to jog.
But that’s where my mother Charlena Rector comes into play. Well actually, she’s been a part of things since day one. She kept me in school every single day (perfect attendance my whole life), in church every Sunday and she guided me through the trials and tribulations of this crazy career I’ve chosen. “God is able,” she always says. And my faith in God never allowed me to waver from His perfect plan. I haven’t necessarily taken the most direct route, but I made it.
This is the man that Cub fans can’t wait to hate. The man that they can’t wait to see injured so they can look at his defenders and say “I told you so.” A man who’s willing to admit his mistakes. A man that voluntarily entered an anger management program because he realized he wasn’t handling things in the right way. Has he made mistakes? Yes. That means little more than he is human. We’ve all made mistakes, and done things of which we are not proud. I’m no better than Milton Bradley and thus am in no position to sit in judgment of him. Here’s what I see in Milton Bradley: a passionate man, and fierce competitor; an incredibly talented baseball player; a man with a real appreciation for the game and its history; and a man who’s made some real mistakes in his life, but is willing to do what it takes to atone for them and get back on the right track. He doesn’t need to be sat down and straightened out; he needs to be embraced by the clubhouse and told that he’s a member of the team and that the team has his back. He needs to be told that the drunken, bigoted frat boy crowd in RF is going to say terrible things to him when he makes a mistake, and he needs to know that his teammates have gone through it and will support him when it happens, because it will.
/end rant.
1. MB21 (view all comments) — Jan 06, 2009 @ 09:58 AM
And so many Cubs fans want to ignore his perseverance to get to that point. He’s done some bad things, but haven’t we all? This is good stuff, pmayo. I’m glad you found it.