[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 156 (2010), Part 13]
[Senate]
[Pages 18919-18920]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]




                         REMEMBERING RON SANTO

  Mr. DURBIN. Mr. President, last night, Chicago and America lost a 
hero. Ron Santo was a Chicago Cubs legend and an inspiration to anyone 
who has ever faced a tough, uphill battle in life.
  During his 15-year career with the Cubs, Ron Santo batted .277 with 
342 home runs and 1,331 RBIs. He was a nine-time All Star and a five-
time National League Gold Glove winner. In each of four seasons, he 
batted .300, drove in 100 runs, and led the league in walks.
  What the public didn't know for most of his career is that he lived 
every day with a life-threatening illness.
  Ron Santo hid his diagnosis from the public for 10 years. He said he 
didn't want anybody to feel sorry for him. He didn't want to be held to 
a different standard. He wanted to be judged the same way every other 
ballplayer is judged--by the numbers. By that standard, Ron Santo 
earned his spot among the greats.
  We can't know how much better he might have been if he hadn't 
suffered from diabetes, in an era that suppressed the long ball or 
maybe for a team that, God bless them, never once saw postseason 
action, but it doesn't matter. Simply put, Ron was the best third 
baseman in Cubs history and maybe in the game.
  The last decade in Ron's life brought challenges that would have 
sidelined many others. In 2001, Ron lost the lower portions of both 
legs to diabetes. He earlier survived a bout of cancer and endured more 
than two dozen surgeries. In his later years he walked on prosthetic 
legs that slowed his gait but not his dedication to the Cubs or his 
work for the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation where he served on 
the board of directors.
  On October 3, as he had for the last 32 years, he hosted the annual 
Ron Santo Walk to Cure Diabetes in Chicago to raise awareness and 
funding for research into a cure.
  Baseball may one day see a third baseman with the playing skills of 
Ron Santo, but it is hard to imagine that we will ever again see a 
ballplayer with greater love or loyalty for a city, its team, and its 
fans.
  His broadcast partner, Pat Hughes, was quoted this morning saying: 
``Ron Santo absolutely loved the Cubs. The Cubs have lost their biggest 
fan.''
  But Ron Santo's love affair with the Cubs started at an early age. 
Born in Seattle, he watched the Game of the Week on TV and remembers a 
game from Wrigley Field with Ernie Banks. He said there was something 
about that ballpark and the Cubs fans.
  When it came time to sign up, this great prospective ballplayer was 
offered a lot of money by a lot of clubs, but he wanted to be a Chicago 
Cub. He could have made a lot more money at the end of his career as 
well by leaving Chicago. Instead, in 1974, Ron Santo became the first 
player to invoke his privilege under the league's ``5-and-10 rule,'' 
declining a trade to the California Angels because he wanted to finish 
his career in Chicago. That kind of dedication to a team and its fans 
is something you hardly ever see anymore. It is something I remember 
fondly from my youth, and I will bet the Presiding Officer does too.
  Since 1990, Ron Santo lived out his love for the Cubs as commentator 
in the booth, providing color commentary on WGN Radio Cubs broadcasts. 
Sports Illustrated writer Rick Reilly described Ron's commentary this 
way. He said Ron Santo ``loves them Cubs like the Pooh Bear loves 
honey. He does not call a game, he lives it. He cheers so much that it 
sounds like his play-by-play partner Pat Hughes is broadcasting from 
Murphy's Bar.''
  In the words of broadcaster Pat Hughes, he ``never had a better 
partner.''
  Ron Santo's boisterous 7th inning stretch renditions of ``Take Me Out 
to the Ball Game'' at Wrigley Field, a tradition that he carried on 
after the passing of Cubs legend Harry Caray, could make anyone smile--
maybe even a White Sox fan.
  One other thing that I always thought was interesting. They used to 
joke about it. I was fortunate to be invited to go up to the broadcast 
booth at Wrigley Field. What a treat for a baseball fan to be up there 
with Ron Santo and Pat Hughes and to do an inning. I mean, if there is 
any psychic reward with this great job, it is that. I would study up on 
all the stats and all the ballplayers' names and what happened in the 
preceding week and think about who is coming and I would be all loaded 
up, and here is Ron Santo.
  At this point it is instinctive. He is announcing a game and talking 
to people and getting ready for the next commercial and all of these 
things are going on, and they were kidding him constantly. There was 
one ongoing joke that I never knew the origin of, and it wasn't until 
they started writing these articles about his life that it finally came 
out. It seems that there was an incident that occurred on opening day 
in the year 2003. Ron Santo, for all his great qualities, didn't 
believe that an expensive toupee was necessarily worth the money. So he 
wore a toupee that clearly was a bargain. His toupee caught fire in the 
Shea Stadium press box in New York on opening day 2003 after he got too 
close to an overhead space heater. They kidded him about that for the 
next 6 years. What a good-natured man he was, to take that kidding and 
to just go on and say: Let's get back to the game--typical of a great 
fellow with a great sense of humor who doesn't take himself too 
seriously.
  Ron Santo was considered for entry into Major League Baseball's Hall 
of Fame an astonishing 19 times. The last time was 2008. Sadly--
wrongly, in my view--he never made it to Cooperstown. But he took that 
disappointment the same way he took so many other

[[Page 18920]]

bad breaks in life, with dignity and grace.
  In September 2003, the Cubs retired Ron Santo's number, 10. It now 
hangs at Wrigley Field along with the numbers of former teammates Billy 
Williams and Ernie Banks. Ron Santo famously said that day: ``This is 
my Hall of Fame--Wrigley Field.''
  But ``This Old Cub'' deserved more. Like his fellow Cubs whose 
retired numbers also hang proudly on Wrigley Field foul poles, Ron 
Santo should have been in the National Baseball Hall of Fame. That he 
never made it is the only regret he could have had about his career.
  Ron Santo was a ballplayer who lived large, played through 
unimaginable pain, broadcast the game with all his heart, and left an 
indelible mark on Cubs fans everywhere. Whether he was staring down an 
opposing pitcher or staring down diabetes, he gave it his all every 
day. The Cubs, Chicago, and America will miss Ron Santo.
  Mr. President, I yield the floor and suggest the absence of a quorum.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. The clerk will call the roll.
  The legislative clerk proceeded to call the roll.
  Mr. MENENDEZ. Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that the order 
for the quorum call be rescinded.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER (Mr. Durbin). Without objection, it is so 
ordered.

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