“Ernie Banks is Chicago’s Mickey Mantle”
By James Rodrigues
Chicago Cub shortstop and slugger-deluxe Ernie Banks was the
very definition of a most valuable player. He not only pounded baseballs over
the brick and ivy walls of Wrigley Field, but he excelled at
the most difficult fielding position on the diamond.
His 512 career home runs are an astonishing accomplishment for anyone but particularly for a shortstop. He won fielding championships three times and set a shortstop record fielding percentage record of .985 in 1959.
Banks was known for the strength of his wrists and his hands. He had a way of snapping his wrists and sending baseballs spinning out onto the streets of Chicago. It was fun watching surprised pedestrians scrambling after souveniers “air mailed” to them by the greatest shortstop of his era.
Cub fan and employment agency president Jerry Medley was lucky enough to live up the street from Ernie Banks when Medley was a youngster. “Ernie would stop and chat with the neighborhood kids,” said Medley. “He was to Chicago what Mickey Mantle was to New York. He was and still is one of Chicago’s top ambassadors.”
Banks enthusiasm for the game of baseball was well known and supported by his trademark comment, “It’s a great day for baseball! Let’s play two today!”
In his first complete season in 1954, Banks set an all-time record for shortstops with 44 home runs. He exceeded that mark by hitting 47 home runs in 1958. It was a season in which he won the National League MVP award. He was most valuable player again in 1959.
And speaking of the value of Ernie Banks, the fact that he played an excellent shortstop cannot be overestimated. Most shortstops of that time period were light hitters and made their living with their gloves and their throwing-arms. To have a shortstop hit and field like Banks was a major blessing for the Cubs. Chicago fans rewarded the 11-time all-star by voting him “the Cubs best player ever” in 1969.
“Mr. Cub,” as his fans call him, visited a hotel I was staying at a few years ago. When I saw him, I decided to shake his hand. I didn’t have any intriguing questions to ask him. I just wanted a handshake from the man with the best wrists in baseball history. He had a firm but friendly grip. I went away, knowing through the oddly pleasant sting in my right hand where 512 home runs come from.