RIP, Rickey Henderson

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Rickey was one of my favorite players when I was a kid. It's sad that he's gone.

My favorite Rickey story...

Prior the 1982 season, Rickey was earning the league minimum $185,000, (equal to roughly $600,000 today). Thanks to his impressive performance up to that point, the A's showered Rickey with a huge contract. In the next season his salary would jump to $535,000 (roughly $1.6 million today), followed by $950,000 ($2.85 million today).

Best of all, the contract came with a big fat signing bonus.

To reward his performance over those first few years, just before the start of the 1982 season the Oakland A's gave Rickey a $1 million signing bonus. That's equal to $3.3 million today.

As you can imagine, becoming a millionaire overnight was a dream come true for a kid who grew up in a tough neighborhood not far from the Oakland stadium.

But then something very strange happened.

A few months after the ink was dry on the contract and the $1m check, someone in the Oakland A's accounting office came across an unusual error in their books. No matter how many times he ran the math, that frustrated Oakland accountant could not figure out why the team's books were off by one million dollars. A few thousand bucks would be nothing to sneeze at, maybe even $10,000. But to be off by a full million dollars was absolutely insane.

The discovery of this discrepancy set off a massive investigation until someone finally figured out that the $1 million was related to a single check. A check that had been written to Rickey Henderson four months earlier.

So, someone from the accounting office called up Rickey and asked him if he still had the check. Rickey responded:

"Ya I have it! I'm staring at right now. It's still in the frame."

Rickey was so proud of his $1 million dollar check, that he decided to frame it and put it on his wall. Apparently, he was unaware that you have to cash the check in order to actually become a millionaire! The accounting office politely asked Rickey to take the check to his bank, ask them for a photo-copy and then hang that on his wall instead.

RIP, Rickey.
 
fourheels said:
The greatest leadoff hitter and baseball stealer fo all-time has passed. He was only 65. RIP, "Man of Steal"

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Damn, that's so young.

I found out a retired co-worker passed away this week also, he was 69.

I really want to live to at least 75, maybe 80. It would suck to work until I'm 60 then pass in less than a decade.

Ricky lived a pretty good life as far as I know. He was something to watch.
 
fourheels said:
The greatest leadoff hitter and baseball stealer fo all-time has passed. He was only 65. RIP, "Man of Steal"

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Wow, this is a shocker. I saw him just three months ago for the last series at the Oakland Coliseum. He was in great shape, and he looked fit enough to put on a uniform and lace up the cleats. He did have pop as a leadoff hitter and he was perhaps the most disruptive baserunner in modern baseball history. Lost in the discussion was that he was a decent left fielder who always seemed to get on base. He led the league in walks four times and averaged 115 walks every 162 games. His lifetime on-base percentage was .401. In other words, not counting getting on by errors, the best base stealer in history got on base over 40% of the time ... over 25 seasons. Let that sink in.

As Rickey Henderson would undoubtedly say, "Rickey knows that Rickey was the greatest."
 
UNCMSinLS said:
Wow, this is a shocker. I saw him just three months ago for the last series at the Oakland Coliseum. He was in great shape, and he looked fit enough to put on a uniform and lace up the cleats. He did have pop as a leadoff hitter and he was perhaps the most disruptive baserunner in modern baseball history. Lost in the discussion was that he was a decent left fielder who always seemed to get on base. He led the league in walks four times and averaged 115 walks every 162 games. His lifetime on-base percentage was .401. In other words, not counting getting on by errors, the best base stealer in history got on base over 40% of the time ... over 25 seasons. Let that sink in.

As Rickey Henderson would undoubtedly say, "Rickey knows that Rickey was the greatest."
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One other stat that is overlooked...Rickey hit .339 over 3 World Series.

Also, he led the AL with 66 stolen bases in 1998 at AGE 39. It would then be 11 years before ANYONE in the AL stole as many as 66 again.
 
I was a young, young kid when I watched Rickey steal numbers 113, 114, 115 in his chase for Lou Brock’s 118. He also hit a HR that game from the lead off spot. Incidentally it was one of Yaz’s final games.

After the game my dad took us to the tunnel where the players came out to the parking lot. Tony Phillips (of all people) shunned us kids and wouldn’t sign a thing. Didn’t acknowledge us at all, not even a wave. What a dick. Rickey, on the other hand, shook ALL our little hands and signed balls and baseball cards and whatever we had for him. I still have that autograph and the memory of that handshake that’ll stay with me forever.

RIP to one of all-time great sports personalities, and one of the all-time sports greats, period.
 
Friend of mine tells this story…

Once while on a long flight as an unaccompanied minor, my airplane suffered mechanical issues, and we landed in Kansas City for several hours. This same weekend, an eccentric Major League Baseball player had disappeared from his team without warning, causing much confusion and some concern for his well being. His disappearance was all over the news.

My mom and my sister were waiting for me at the Norfolk airport, and when I did not arrive on my scheduled flight, the airline wasn’t able to explain where I was. My mother was rightfully apoplectic.

I was pretty oblivious. A gaggle of nuns had seen me sitting at the gate in Kansas City, and had bought me a King Sized Snickers, so I was as happy as I could be, unaware that my delay was causing serious anguish for my mom and my sister.

When I finally walked down the jetway after catching a later flight, I could hear my mom’s raised voice, demanding answers from the gate agent. I heard her clear as a bell, saying, “Where am I going to see my son next? On a milk carton next to Rickey Fucking Henderson?”

R.I.P. to one of the greats.
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