CHAPTER 16 HOMECOMING

4 A.M.

After 108 years of waiting, our charter flight from Cleveland to Chicago carried the holy grail of professional baseball.

The Commissioner’s Trophy.

Thirty pounds of sterling silver, the two-foot-tall trophy is covered with thirty metal flags on it, one for each major-league team, and a gold-stitched baseball. It’s absolutely beautiful. The best part of our forty-five-minute flight from Cleveland airport to O’Hare International Airport on the northwest side of Chicago wasn’t the party. While there was plenty of music and beverage consumption on board the flight, everyone was exhausted, too. The best part was that we finally had a chance to exhale.

In our family, Cole still wasn’t feeling well and he was laid out across a row of seats, asleep. Landri sat near the back of the plane with one of her friends, wide awake! I’m sure they enjoyed watching the festivities.

Everyone, myself included, was all smiles as we passed around the Commissioner’s Trophy. I tweeted a picture of myself with the trophy and said, “Look what the boys got me for my retirement.” While I’d held the trophy before—the first time was 2013 with the Boston Red Sox—this time was the best feeling in the world.

DAVID’S iPHONE JOURNAL

9/28/16

Listen to your teammates, they will tell you the truth. What a crazy weekend! Let me start by saying how much love these guys give me! I’m going to miss them. Friday the Cubs did a video for me and a ceremony with my family. Couldn’t hold back the tears! They gave me some cool gifts, home plate from NH, jersey I hit 100th HR, and #3 from score board. Sunday, last home game, SNBB, and I’m catching. What a night!! I got a standing O my first two at-bats and went deep after the second one. What an amazing feeling! Later, with two quick outs in the 7th, Joe comes out to take Jon out, or so I thought. He tells me, “I’ve never done this but you’re out of the game.” I was so confused, and then all my teammates start patting me on the head and shoulders. I pulled my mask down, so no one would see me starting to cry, and headed to dugout. Hugs from my teammates and coaches, another curtain call, we win, what a night. Side note, my parents were sitting right behind home plate, three rows up! Thanks to the best, Vijay!

I established a reputation in the major leagues as a good teammate. I had some missteps along the way, but I learned through my experiences—good and bad—the habits of good teammates and the importance of being invested in others. And the difference over the final eight years of my career was how intentional I was about it. I did a lot of thinking about the different ingredients that go into winning, to the point where I almost had it down to a formula. I understood how important preparation was. I understood how important relationship-building was. I understood the importance of certain conversations away from the playing field. I understood how important it was to have someone who could hold the team accountable, for doing all the little things.

I thought about how I could create all those different ingredients and actively create those in other people. I always tried to keep an eye on my teammates and how they affected the whole team. All those little moments throughout the season, the simple conversations, the team dinners, were intended to foster relationships that helped create a winning environment. But being a good teammate doesn’t guarantee winning. Good teams have a lot of moving parts that work in unison. While teams are only as good as their superstar players—talent still wins in most environments—character is a key ingredient to an improved working culture.

There has actually been a fair amount of academic and sociological research done on the subject of being a good teammate. As that phrase has been thrown around about me, I’ve had a good deal of time to think about what it all means. Here are a few characteristics of being a good teammate, from that research, and examples of how they helped me during my career.

Humility

Let me start by addressing the irony of talking about the importance of humility… in a book all about me. But I say this all the time: Selfishness is the root of evil in baseball and most other walks of life. Selfishness takes everybody down. If you’re consumed with yourself, then you’re not going to do what’s best for the team. Whether it’s getting a guy over from first to second base or having to take a bunch of pitches for the next guy, grinding out pitchers, giving yourself up for others is the ultimate act of humility.

Every team needs a rock star or two. If Albert Pujols and Mike Trout don’t produce, the Angels are going to be terrible, right? Same with us. If Rizzo and Kris Bryant don’t produce, we’re not going to be very good. But those guys will never win without the team. The lineup works right when every dude gets on board with the plan.

We had a situation in Boston where the Red Sox signed a free agent. At that time, we were a team that grinded out at-bats. Suddenly this new guy comes in—he was making good money—and just did his own thing. I remember once when he came to the plate with the bases loaded against a pitcher who was struggling to find the strike zone. Instead of being patient, our guy went up and swung at the first pitch and grounded out. It was the wrong mindset. It was a selfish mindset.

If you’re only worried about your stats, everyone will see your true colors. That was me in Cincinnati. I learned a huge lesson.

Honesty

I had a situation with a good buddy, Mike Napoli, in Boston in 2013. Mike played every day and this guy really grinded. He was suffering from an injured foot and, I believe, got a cortisone shot that day. It was a Sunday game that I started and Mike and a few other guys were in the locker room watching football. We had clenched the division two nights before and Nap played every day. He deserved to relax and do whatever he wanted to get ready for the playoffs. I remembered coming off the field a couple of times and thought, Man, where’s Nap? I don’t know why I noticed it and I don’t know why it drove me crazy, but I thought, Where’s Nap? I started to get hot and after a few innings I couldn’t stand it.

I always felt that holding my emotions in made me a bitter person. So I walked into the locker room and then up another set of stairs to the weight room, where Mike was hanging out with a few other guys who were not playing that day. I saw them watching football. So, internally, I was pissed, but my initial thought wasn’t to make a big deal about it. I grabbed a Red Bull from the refrigerator and then, as I started to head back to the field, I couldn’t help myself. I said, “Hey, man, I just want to tell you something. I’m out there supporting you every day that you play and I don’t appreciate that I’m playing today and you don’t have my back.”

As I walked out I immediately second-guessed myself and thought, You’ve got to be kidding me. Why did I do that? I’m just burning bridges. The next thing I knew, Mike was back on the bench during the game. Afterward, he apologized and told me he was hurting and the team doctor told him to take it easy. But he said he should’ve been on the bench and not upstairs watching football. Our relationship grew that day, in part because I was honest with him and he allowed me to be that.

I was on the bench and I looked around as it got emptier and emptier. You don’t always need a bunch of guys cheering in the dugout, but on a night like that you need all the help you can get. I said, “Screw this. The dugout is empty. We’re out here playing and we don’t have any support.”

I walked into the locker room and let loose. “You know, we’re out here grinding and you guys are in here shooting the shit. Rookie, Rob Z, get your ass out here. You get your ass out here. Veterans, you can do whatever the hell you want but we’re trying to win a baseball game.”

Sutcliffe told me afterward it was the coolest thing he’d ever seen. I didn’t like doing that, and it’s not something that made me feel cool. Every time I did it I got emotional because I knew that the situation wasn’t right. And when something isn’t right, I have to say something. That’s honest.

Reliability

Be the same person every day. That’s a big saying in baseball. Joe Maddon loves to say, “Okay, be the same guy. Don’t carry yesterday into today.” I talked to Hyla about it a lot. When I walked into our locker room I felt I had to bring the energy, even when I was having a bad day.

If you’re consistent in your daily routine and in your personality, it makes it easier to focus. To manage a long baseball season, you must prepare and break down each day and be consistent in your approach, no matter who your opponent is on a given day.

That’s why my routine included saying “hello” to everyone when I got to the park that day. It was my way of checking in and getting ready. Everyone knew it was coming, even the security guards, Steve and Melvin!

Communication

Communication can be positive or negative. Everyone makes mistakes. When a player made a mistake, I thought it was important to lift him up.

Jon is one of those guys who know how to work. He prepares every day and builds for his start every fifth day. Jon’s a little bit like a robot until he’s done with his work. One consequence of this was that when he pitched and somebody booted a ball behind him, his body language might suggest he was upset with that player. The risk was that the player might think Jon didn’t like him or the player might become scared to play behind Jon.

Early in the 2015 season I told him, “Hey, man, listen. You’re going to be here five, six years and I am outta here in one more year, maybe, unless they get rid of me sooner than that. But you have to make an effort to get to know these guys so they don’t think you’re a scary human being.” I mean, he’s a big teddy bear. But when he’s out there competing, he puts the weight of the world on his shoulders because he’s the guy who is getting all that money and it’s a lot of pressure.

If his teammates aren’t helping him out, Lester gets pissed. I told Jon he needed to communicate positivity and lift up his teammates. I’ve seen guys who are always negative, and it’s hard to play with them.

A great teammate also shares what he’s learned. It’s a way of teaching the next generation of players. And I think that’s such an important thing for the veterans. I mean, it’s so much easier to do that as a veteran player who has a deeper perspective on things. I remember Rizzo was complaining about his swing earlier in the 2016 season and I was like, “Hey, try batting a buck-eighty for a year.” I was being funny, but Anthony has always been open to my sharing the challenges of my long career, which I do only to help him keep his “challenges” in perspective.

Direct and early communication is a sign of great leadership. An example was when we traded for closer Aroldis Chapman in late July 2016. Before the Cubs acquired Chapman from the Yankees, President Theo Epstein talked to the veteran guys on our team and asked if we thought Chapman might negatively change the chemistry of the clubhouse. Chapman had been suspended by Major League Baseball for thirty games in the spring for violating MLB’s domestic violence policy. There’s no exact formula for team chemistry and human beings are complicated. There is no player who is a great teammate all the time, nor one who is always bad. It’s not that simple. We’re all combinations of good qualities and bad qualities and moods and our past history. As I showed, we can change and do better. Though none of the veterans on our team really knew Chapman, we all felt comfortable saying our locker room was so strong we knew he could meld with us. More than that, we appreciated Theo being direct and communicating with us what the team was planning to do. He is a model of great leadership.

Like Theo, what we really wanted was to add as much talent as we could with guys who care about their teammates, who are invested first and foremost in the outcome of the group, who are willing to control their own personal interests, and who give a shit. If you fill your roster with enough of those types of guys, you’re probably going to have something good going on.

Problem Solving

Great teammates look for solutions without complaining. For me, it was about game calling behind the plate, trying to get the best situation for my pitcher. But everybody should be trying to help the group solve the big problem, which is, how we’re going to win today. How are we going to beat our opponent? How are we going to put ourselves in the best situation to succeed as a group? Good teammates aren’t focused just on their hits and plays, but on how what they do helps the collective. They can help their teammates succeed. They focus on helping other people solve the problem—no matter how big or how small.

Sacrifice

No task is beneath you. Sacrifice is for the betterment of the group. I might have been a veteran player on the roster, but if a teammate ripped his batting gloves and everyone on the bench was busy, I probably had the most time of anyone to help out. Even if that guy probably would have never said, “Hey, Rossy, go get me a pair of batting gloves,” I didn’t mind because whatever needed to be done, I did it.

Speaking of sacrifice, I always worked on my bunting. I was not a superstar, so I always worked on bunting because it’s a skill that helps win games. It isn’t glamorous and not everyone liked to bunt. I am sure we all have moments in a season or in a job that we are asked to do tasks that we might not be 100 percent committed to or feel that is maybe beneath us. But you have to step up and do them to help your team or your business be successful. That’s life… as a teammate!

Doing a task without complaining is the best approach. It is not always easy and I’ll admit I can complain with the best of them, but it is necessary to put the group in front of your own personal needs or wants to succeed.

Dealing with Change

When your goal is to win a championship in a highly competitive field, there are going to be bumps and challenges along the road. I think the guys who are able to adjust and keep their focus on moving forward no matter what the circumstances are the ones who will deal with change the best. And change is one constant in baseball. The game is built around managers making adjustments, often in the moment, to create advantage.

Joe Maddon said it best: “Trust the process because the process is fearless.” There are going to be a lot of things that are out of your control but if you keep working at getting better to be the best version of you, the rest is just wasted emotion.

If I got sent down to the minors, I couldn’t just feel sorry for myself. Nobody feels sorry for you in baseball. The game goes on whether you are part of the team or not. You have to deal with change and disappointment.

Great teammates can find that balance to continue to push forward and find a way to communicate through problems and changes. When a problem arises in life, make adjustments, find a positive in it, and make it the best day you can.

Engagement

In Boston, Dustin Pedroia was a huge influence in my life in terms of how he conducted himself. His intensity and focus. Every at-bat was important to Dustin. If he struck out in a 15–1 game in a situation where he thought he should have gotten a hit to help the team, he was pissed. (By the way, that’s a true story… and we were winning!)

In Atlanta, Bobby Cox was as engaged as any leader I’ve seen. I sat next to Bobby and his coaching staff on the bench and listened to a lot of their conversations. I always seemed to find myself next to the managers. I always wanted to hear what they talked about during games.

Bobby was always thinking steps ahead of everyone else. Atlanta pitching coach Roger McDowell used to sit next to me and he’d ask, “What would you throw right here?” So I had to be locked in on every pitch. If I wasn’t engaged in the game, I couldn’t go pitch to pitch with him.

As a teammate, you have to stay invested in and engaged with the guys who are out there playing because that’s the only way you are going to lift them up. Too many guys check out when they are not playing. I think that is totally wrong. I think the best teammates are the ones in the dugout watching the game from the bench and seeing exactly what is going on. If I criticized a teammate, they knew it wasn’t out of the blue, because I was always watching. I had earned their trust because they knew I was watching and engaged in every game.

Being Positive

Bobby Cox was the master. Those years in Atlanta under Bobby as my manager really made me a lot better because I watched how he watched the field… and he watched everything that happened on the field. Say if the outfielder made a great catch for the first out, but then we gave up five runs in the inning. With most people, that great catch might be forgotten because everyone was down as they came off the field because we allowed a five-spot. But in situations like that, Bobby would walk down the dugout and pat that guy on the butt and say, “Nice catch.” Bobby always focused on the positive aspect, even in a negative moment.

Accountability

Players—people, too—often want to make excuses when things go wrong. Not a great teammate. The truth is that none of us is perfect, and the best response when a mistake is made is to own it, to be accountable. Some people equate calling yourself out with being vulnerable. That may be true. I promise you that the minute you show vulnerability, I think that allows you to build trust. I feel like, Okay, now we are all on the same level. I made mistakes. I made a lot of them—and I still make them. I also try to hold myself accountable for them.

The reason that is so important is that you can’t hold others accountable—which your teammates need from you—until you show the ability to hold yourself to a high standard.

I think players put so much pressure on themselves. After games, we had to answer to the media and talk about how and why something happened in the game, be it positive or negative. And there were times when players made excuses. But if I made a mistake and I owned it, what else was there to talk about?

As a player, if you make excuses or try to blame somebody else, all of a sudden it becomes a five-day story in the media. Being accountable nips that story right in the bud. I tried to diffuse situations. For instance, in Game One of the World Series, I don’t think I called a very good game. Jon Lester didn’t throw badly, but I just didn’t set him up for as much success as he possibly could have had, in my opinion. And that’s what I said following the game. There weren’t many follow-up questions!

Being Social

Teammates have to get to know each other. As a player, I just can’t know you in one aspect of your life. That was one of the things we did so well with the Cubs. I remember everyone got together in St. Louis after a game during my first year in Chicago. Players had a FIFA Xbox tournament going on. Heck, I don’t even know how to turn on an Xbox. But it was great camaraderie building because everyone hung out and talked about things. You saw how players interacted with each other. Some guys were locked in on the Xbox, some guys shot the bull, some guys were on social media. But everyone was together and guys talked about different things and interacted. We had so many good personalities in the room, like Dexter Fowler and Anthony Rizzo, even young guys liken Addison Russell. Our good social time helped make the communication so much better and easy throughout the year.

Toughness

You just can’t be the nice guy and pat everyone on the back. One of the coolest things I ever heard was from Dave Roberts when I was with the Dodgers and we were teammates. Somebody was giving him a hard time and he looked the guy right in the eye and said, “Don’t mistake kindness for weakness.” I have used it a lot because my being the nice guy and supporting guy doesn’t mean you can take advantage of me or beat me down. We had a pitcher who threw some ice across the locker room and hit me in the head several times. He was just messing around but one time he hit me after a game in Arizona and I walked over to him and told him if he did it again, we were going to go at it. It was his last warning. He saw the seriousness in my face and we never had a problem again.

Trust

As players, you have to have each other’s backs. Once when I was with Cincinnati, we were playing the Atlanta Braves, and Braves catcher Brian McCann—I didn’t know Brian at the time—said something to one of our hitters, Jerry Hairston, when he tried to bunt in a game we were getting no-hit. I jumped off the bench and started yelling at Brian. I had no idea what they were talking about, but I stood up for my teammate.

I am going to be the first guy to say something; that’s just the way I am. The Braves probably thought it was cheesy to try to bunt in that situation and, if I was on the Braves team, I might have thought the same. But I wasn’t on their team. I was on my team. So right or wrong, I had to have Jerry’s back. There are certain guys and teams in the league that want to police everything, and I think that’s wrong. You play your game and we will play ours. Don’t tell us how to play. We have to have each other’s backs and teammates have to be able to trust each other. In the heat of the battle, I stuck up for my teammates.

Heck, my first year with the Cubs in 2015, I was ejected when I wasn’t even in the game. We were playing the Reds and Dexter Fowler was at-bat. He checked his swing, but Paul Schrieber, the umpire, called it a strike. All I said to Schrieber was to get help on the call—to consult the ump working the line. Well, Paul walked to our bench and told Joe Maddon that he’d better “shut him up”—and he pointed at me.

Whoa! I said, “Listen, nobody is going to tell me to shut up, I am a grown-ass man.” I lost it and said a few choice words before Paul ejected me. Was it worth it? Absolutely. Dexter thanked me later. He knew I had his back. When your teammates know that you have their back, they will trust you, and they will follow you.

Fun

A great teammate is someone whom others appreciate and want to be around. They have a good time. I always tried to have a good time when I played baseball, but I always wondered: What did people like about me? I never thought I was cool, but I made sure I had a good time on the field. That must have been it.

I always made fun of myself, too. That’s my personality. Like with the “Grandpa Rossy” nickname. When it first came up, I willingly put on a “Grandpa Rossy” uniform and walked around with a walker and a cane. It was fun. It was easy for me to make fun of myself because I couldn’t relate to what it’s like to be a superstar.

One of my favorite quotes, from John Wooden, the late basketball coach for the University of California, Los Angeles, is “Be more concerned with your character than your reputation, because your character is what you really are, while your reputation is merely what others think you are.” I have that quote framed at my house. At the end of the day, you know your strengths and weaknesses.

If I was the old guy, Grandpa Rossy, I was fine with that. It was fun. And it gave us something to laugh about as a team.

If someone wants to become a great teammate, however, they have to go back to the big lesson we scribbled on the whiteboard in the Braves’ training room years ago: “Be Honest With Yourself.” If someone goes through this list and isn’t honest with himself, it would be tough for him to become the best teammate out there. It is important to know what you need to work on and you can only do that if you’re honest with yourself.