The Boys of Summer

Back when I collected baseball (and football) cards, there was an insert card in a set of Score baseball called "Boys of Summer." Pinnacle football also released a card set called "Men of Autumn." Back then, at the tender age of 10, I actually asked myself why they made the distinction, because there was an entire month and a half period that the seasons overlapped -- the beginnings of the NFL and the MLB playoffs. Sure, the majority of baseball's season is over spring and summer, but when do the boys of baseball really prove themselves?

This burning question has come back up recently because of Dane Cook's commercials ("There's only one October"). If you haven't seen these commercials (read: if you have been living under a rock for the past three weeks), basically what happens is Dane Cook gives a spiel about players who prove themselves in the playoffs, or young stars who will step up and make a difference this October. As hokey as this whole thing is, it's not nearly as bad as the "Mookie Wilson, Andre Dawson, Cecil Fielder - Simply Awesome" days of baseball's Catch the Fever campaign, and it actually got me to thinking: are the Boys of Summer and the Men of Autumn playing the same sport? The answer I've come up with is a resounding Yes.

There are proven, outstanding players who have never won a championship in all sports. These are the Boys of Summer -- the players like Barry Bonds, Ted Williams, Ernie Banks, Ty Cobb, Nolan Ryan and Tony Gwynn. They had chances, although not too many, to win their championships, to become the Men of Autumn, the men who turned in clutch performances and led their team to a ring. In short -- they're the guys who got outdone. As great as they truly were, either they didn't come through or they didn't have the team around them to win it all, despite their best efforts.

And that's a shame, because these great players really should be thought of as true heroes of baseball. However, there are those who overtook them by becoming those Men of Autumn -- players like Billy Hatcher, Scott Brosius, Don Larsen, Joe Carter, Jack Morris, Derek Jeter, Enos Slaughter, Al Kaline, Reggie Jackson-- the ones who came through, whether it was a timely home run, a game-saving defensive play, a perfect game, or simple, consistent hitting throughout. These are the true heroes -- not the ones who put up stat after stat after stat -- winning countless batting titles, hitting .406, setting a stolen base record, striking out 5,000 batters. Ask any player if they'd rather have the records they've achieved -- or whether they'd rather have a championship. I don't think you'll find anyone who doesn't pick the championship.

You can pile up stats until the Expos come back to Montreal, and it won't matter. 760? 800 home runs, Mr. Bonds? Where's your ring? Ask Rickey Henderson how it felt going 9 for 19 (with three stolen bases) in the '89 series against the Giants? Ask how he felt with his teammates when they won the Series. Sure, he is the leadoff home run and stolen base king. But that's what happened in the summer. Autumn is a different time of year, built for different records, different personas and brand new heroes. Each year, they come out -- someone comes through, and someone has that postseason that makes everyone take notice. He may not even win the World Series MVP, and he may not get that personal recognition of hitting number 756, or stealing number 939, but he will get his ring, and his team will go down in history as champions.