It was great to see Andre Dawson go into the Hall of Fame the other day. Not so much because we needed to be reminded of what a graceful and powerful player the Chicago Cubs had two decades ago. That was evident on the field, evident when he won the National League Most Valuable Player Award in 1987.
No, it was great to see him because we were reminded of what a gentleman he is, and what he had to do to be a success.
Dawson was raised in South Miami by his mother, who worked two jobs to support her family. He learned to play baseball with rocks and a broomstick. He bribed his brothers with cookies to get them to keep pitching to him. “There are many of us up here who had nothing, who came from nothing, who wondered if nothing was all there ever was,” Dawson said at the Hall of Fame ceremony in Cooperstown, N.Y.
“There is hope,” he said. “But you can’t get here by skipping school or disrespecting your parents or your teachers or your coaches.
“You can’t get here by dropping out of society. You can’t get here if you believe you have nothing to lose out on the streets. You have everything to lose. …
“As my grandmother used to say, ‘Take God with you. Get on your knees and believe it. Be thankful of the blessings before you receive them. … You can get left behind or you can get on board.'”
Dawson left Chicago after the 1992 season, for the usual baseball reasons. The Cubs thought his knees were too creaky; the Boston Red Sox made a better offer. Dawson was one of the most respected ballplayers ever to come through this town, North Side or South Side. And this week, he reminded us why.
