It's baseball's offseason. And we all know what happens as we anticipate the start of the new season. Players get traded, contracts get picked up, and nothing ever looks the same at the beginning of the new season as it did at the end of last.
I've lived this my whole life. Many times with tears, and as many times with excitement of what's to come.
You may know that I routed hard for the Cubs to get to the World Series last fall. I believed in this group of players - Jake Arrieta, Anthony Rizzo, Kris Bryant and especially their manager, Joe Maddon. But it didn't happen. They lost one round shy of the series. But they did themselves proud. And for all that hard work Kris Bryant won the NL Rookie of the Year, Jake Arrieta won the NL Cy Young Award and Joe Maddon one NL Manager of the Year. Now that's a year.
A friend shared this article with me written by the former Cub, Starlin Castro as he leaves Chicago and heads to New York to play for the Yankees. He wanted to make sure I knew just what kind of person the Yankees were getting in Castro.
This, my friends, is an amazing article written by Starlin Castro.
The Players Tribune - Starlin Castro article
by Starlin Castro
"It started with a home run.
I almost still can’t believe it — but it really happened.
In my first game as a major leaguer, in my first at-bat as a Cub, I hit a home
run. I still remember it like it was yesterday: two on, nobody out, in the top
of the second. Homer Bailey was pitching on a 2-2 count.
At 7 a.m. that morning I had been a 20-year-old kid in
Double-A Tennessee. 12 hours later, I was at the Great American Ballpark in
Cincinnati — standing there under the lights, wearing a Chicago Cubs uniform,
watching a ball fly off my bat and into the right field bleachers.
A few innings later, I hit a bases-loaded triple — and
became the first player in big-league history to have six RBI in their debut. I
remember calling my parents from the clubhouse after the game and telling them
about it … and the funny thing was, at first they didn’t believe it either.
It seemed too good to be true.
And, of course, in a way it was.
My career started in the best way possible:
a home run. But not every at-bat can be a home run. Not every game can. Not
even every season can. Baseball, like anything else, is full of ups and downs —
and my five years in Chicago had its share of both.
The most constant “up” for me, by far, was
the fans. As a player at Wrigley, when you park your car, you have to walk
through the concourse to get into the clubhouse. And that became one of my
favorite parts of the day: walking through Wrigley, soaking everything in and
being able to interact with the fans on my way in and out of the clubhouse.
The Cubs fans were always so good to me,
and I will never be able to thank them enough. When I got to Chicago, I was
just a kid, trying to figure things out at a new job in a new city. When you’re
new, you want to be approved of, and you want to belong. Those first big cheers
I got at Wrigley are something that I will never forget. They helped me feel
like I was doing something right — and they helped me feel like I was home.
And that’s exactly what Chicago was for me,
from the night I got there to the morning I had to leave: home. I have so many
memories. In my five years as a Cub, I became a father — twice. And so a lot of
my favorite memories involve being a dad: from tossing a ball around in Lake
Shore Park with Starlin Jr., to going fishing on Lake Michigan, to having a
family dinner at Tropical Taste (get the ox tail with rice and beans). The city
has been such a friendly place to raise a family.
To the Cubs organization: I’d like to thank
you — for everything. You gave me an opportunity, you believed in me and you
were always honest with me. You didn’t just help me grow as a player; you
helped me become an adult.
Even when we were losing in Chicago during
those first few years, it felt like we were working toward a larger goal. There
were always coaches and veterans creating a sense that we were all in this
together — and that the wins would come.
The veteran player who helped me most,
without question, was Alfonso Soriano. We had a connection from the start
because we are both Dominican — but even beyond our roots, Alfonso is the guy
who taught me how to act like a professional. I remember during my rookie year,
Alfonso taking the time to go with me, walk around to some stores, and help me
pick out some new, more professional clothes.
“This,” Alfonso said with a smile. “Is how
you dress like a big-leaguer.” It meant a lot to me. Three years later, Alfonso
became the godfather to my son.
As for this past season: Getting replaced
at shortstop was a struggle for me at first. Change is never easy — especially
when it is a change away from something you took pride in. But I also took
pride in the fact that I was not going to be one of those players who lost his
spot and then brought the team down with him. I knew that I had been taught —
by veterans like Alfonso, and other great leaders in the Cubs organization — to
be better than that.
And the pride I felt about my own job had a
lot to do with the pride I felt about what we were building as a team. I was a
Cub when we lost 101 games in 2012. I played in every one of those games; I
lived those 101 losses. For us to finally start winning was very satisfying to
me. It didn’t matter if I was at shortstop, or second base, or watching from
the bench. I would have been proud no matter what.
But at the same time, as an athlete, you
want to play. You always want to play. So when I was given the opportunity to
win the job at second base, I took it seriously. I worked hard. I made
adjustments. I tried to treat it like a new beginning. And it paid off: After
losing the shortstop job in August, I hit .426 in September at second base. Out
of all of my accomplishments as a Cub, that is the one I hope people talk about
when they look back on my career: That in a situation where some players would
have checked out, I kept my head up and worked even harder. I didn’t just say,
“I want to help the team win.” I actually helped the team win.
And now I want to help the Yankees win.
That’s what I’m here to do. When I learned that I was being traded, it was
bittersweet. I thought of all of the things that I would miss: from amazing
teammates like Anthony Rizzo, to Wrigley and its fans, to all of the ways that
Chicago has become my home since I was 20. But I am also at the stage of my
career where I just want to win. Period. So, to be traded to a team with a
winning tradition like the Yankees — it’s perfect. I couldn’t be happier to be
playing in New York.
Luckily for me, I’ve been welcomed with
open arms. Several of my new teammates have reached out to say how excited they
are about next season. Carlos Beltrán, who I played against when he was in St.
Louis and whose career I admire, got in touch with me right away — and already
has made me feel like part of the group.
But my favorite “Welcome to New York”
moment probably came when I got a phone call from Reggie Jackson. That’s the
sort of call that you dream about as a kid … and it really was a dream come
true: Reggie had so much advice and encouragement for me — and said that he was
looking forward to working with me in spring training. I think I smiled for the
rest of the day after we got off the phone.
I’m 25 now. It’s been five years since that
night in Cincinnati — when I was that kid from Double-A, racing to call his
parents about the home run that he had just hit in his first at-bat as a
big-leaguer. And while they haven’t all been home runs, I think I’ve grown up
to become a smarter and better player. I have no idea what the next five years
will bring … but I’m excited to find out.
To my new city, New York, I can promise you
this: You are acquiring a player who just got to experience a pennant race for
the first time — and loved it.
And to my old city, Chicago, I want to
thank you for such an amazing experience. I’ll always hold Chicago close to my
heart. And hey — maybe I’ll still visit sometime.
How’s October?"
