Connect with us

Published

on

FREDDIE FREEMAN PLAYED in 161 games last year. He does not like this fact. Were it up to the Los Angeles Dodgers first baseman and likely future Hall of Famer, he would participate in every game of every season, all 162, a number held sacred throughout the game. Freeman has partly agreed to a compromise since joining the Dodgers — the day after they clinch a division championship, he’ll sit, for one game and nothing more. When that day arrived last season, he still fought it.

“Until I’m told to sit down, I will fight you until you literally don’t put me in the lineup card,” Freeman said. “But that’s just how I view life in general. That’s my job, I’m gonna do it.”

The task of 161 is every bit as trying as 162, but the allure is simply not the same. Even more in sports’ load management era, the regard for playing all 162 has become almost mythic. Figuring out how to actually achieve it, though, remains elusive for nearly every baseball player. Since 1961 (when Major League Baseball expanded the schedule from 154 games), fewer than five players a year on average have played at least 162 games in a season. Of the 655 position players last year, just four — Arizona’s Eugenio Suarez, Atlanta’s Matt Olson, New York’s Juan Soto and Texas’ Marcus Semien — hit the mark.

It’s not just the rarity that means something to this group. It’s what goes into 162, the confluence of events that allow it to manifest. Baseball is the longest season in professional sports, a six-month endurance test in which the vagaries of life can waylay the goal of 162.

So what does it take to reach it? ESPN surveyed players present and past to understand how they weathered the roadblocks that prevent hundreds annually from joining the elite club, and a few elements stood out as universal. Already, just two weeks into this season, the potential for 162 has been winnowed from 414 position players thus far with at least one plate appearance to 124 who have partaken in each of their team’s full slate of games.

Freeman is one of them.

“People don’t go be a schoolteacher to just sit there and not teach,” he said. “My job is to play baseball. … Believe me, at least 100, 150 times my dad says take a day off, take a day off. And I go, ‘Dad, you know that’s not gonna happen.'”


ANOTHER DAD ONCE gave his son advice on playing 162, and the words — “When you’re an everyday player,” the father said, “you have a responsibility to be in there and meet the challenges of the day” — still to this day stick with Cal Ripken Jr.

Nobody embodies 162 quite like Ripken, whose streak of playing in 2,632 consecutive games is among baseball’s most unbreakable records. He’s the king of the 162-game season, too, with 10 of them (and four more at 161, owed to games canceled and not rescheduled).

“The whole concept of 162 is so psychological,” Ripken said. “You don’t know you can play 162 until you do it.”

This is the first tenet of playing 162: One must exhibit extreme mental strength. A player can be young (Delmon Young, age 21, 2007) or old (Pete Rose, 41, 1982). He can wear any uniform (all 30 teams have at least one 162-game triumph). For every difference, the commonalities include a willingness to play through the slog of a long season, the bumps and bruises that accompany it and the downturns impossible for even the best players to avoid.

Even for those staunch in wanting to play 162, the temptations to sit can be pervasive. Take a day. Let the body heal. You’ve earned it. To resist those urges 162 times a season, you need to have another goal.

“If I don’t play today, I can’t have that at-bat where something clicks and I get out of my slump,” said Philadelphia Phillies super-utility player Whit Merrifield, who sandwiched a pair of 162-game efforts around a full 60-game season in 2020. “I can’t do that if I’m on the bench. That’s what ending up trumping those thoughts.”

And some organizations have established a culture in which 162 feels like an expectation. Ripken knew Brooks Robinson did it four times and saw Eddie Murray pull it off once. In his wake, Rafael Palmeiro (twice), B.J. Surhoff (twice) and Miguel Tejada (six straight times, three of them with Baltimore) continued the tradition.

Sure enough, the Orioles lead MLB teams with 27 instances (37% of them Ripken’s). In more recent years, the Atlanta Braves have picked up the mantle. Following Freeman’s first 162-game season in 2014, he did it again in 2018. Olson played 162 in 2022 and 2023, joined in 2022 by Dansby Swanson.

“It’s a mental commitment,” said Swanson, now with the Chicago Cubs. “No matter how you feel, it’s a commitment to play and perform each and every day. You wake up and it doesn’t matter if you’re sick, doesn’t matter if you’re hurting, doesn’t matter what’s going on in your life. It’s your job.”


BASEBALL IS NOT the world’s most strenuous sport by any means, but consider a major leaguer’s life. Every day, for more than 2½ hours, a ballplayer standing on metal spikes repeatedly goes from standstill to full sprint. Among swings in batting practice, batting cage work and in-game hacks, he torques his body with unbridled explosiveness upward of 100 times a day. Compound that with the hundreds of throws and the daily weight training deemed a necessity to maintain strength, and suddenly one day off sounds like heaven.

“I never thought I would be able to play 162,” Soto said. “One day, you don’t feel right. Or you’re in a little slump. Or your manager wants you to take a day off. That’s all it takes.”

The physical fortitude to play 162 comprises the second tenet. Not only must players be good enough — or their team bad enough — to warrant inclusion in the lineup every day, they require fast-healing bodies to ensure the opportunity to perform.

“I had a good set of genes,” Ripken said. “I could foul a ball off my foot and I wouldn’t have a lot of swelling. I was a good healer.”

Said Freeman, in a perfect summation of life as a 162er: “I think I can play baseball with a little owie.”

It’s about finding where the line is for every individual. Freeman knows his body isn’t the same as Shohei Ohtani‘s, whose isn’t the same as Mookie Betts,’ and on it goes. A stretch that might work for someone else might not be right for him. One player might need 200 swings as part of his process while he limits his work in the cage.

“If you’re doing too much, and you’re not achieving what you need to do at 7 o’clock, then no one’s gonna care what you’re doing at 3 o’clock, you know?” Freeman said. “‘Oh, look at you, you dead-lifted, you did this, you swung 700 times. Well, you’re tired and you can’t perform.'”

In the back of every player’s mind, of course, is the sport’s ultimate cautionary tale. On June 2, 1925, the Yankees’ manager, Miller Huggins, suggested his first baseman, Wally Pipp, take the day off to nurse a headache. A 21-year-old named Lou Gehrig replaced him. Gehrig played every Yankees game for the next 14 years and Pipp was unceremoniously traded to the Reds after the season.

“I know the Wally Pipp story. I had no interest in that happening to me. I’ve always wanted to play, and it took me so long to get to the big leagues,” said Merrifield, who debuted at 27 years old. “I didn’t want to give up a day as a big leaguer.”


THE THIRD TENET of playing 162: intelligence. It takes someone self-aware to formulate the sort of plan that can maintain health. Olson, who first played 162 as a 24-year-old with Oakland, only later in his career reconciled what it takes to cajole an aging body through a full season.

“You’re not going to feel good every day,” he said. “The older I’ve gotten, the more honest you have to be with yourself. Maybe you don’t need to hit BP that day. Maybe you need to get a massage. You find these little things.”

Merrifield learned that playing hard and playing smart are two entirely different ideas. For all the times he heard the importance of running hard, he recognized the limitations he needed to put in place to avoid the sorts of injuries that come when a player can’t differentiate between false hustle and real hustle.

“If I hit a fly ball during the regular season, I shouldn’t run 100 percent to second base,” Merrifield said. “I should run as hard as I need to in order to ensure I make it to second base.”

For Soto, who had never played more than 153 games before last season, knowing when to take a break during the course of a game proved essential. In more than 10% of his games last year, Soto’s then-manager, Bob Melvin, pulled him in the late innings for extra rest. It worked so well that by late August, Soto said, he felt fresh enough to strive for 162, even with 27 games in 31 days to end the season.

“My body felt great,” Soto said. “As long as I can be healthy, I want to be out there every day. At the end of the day, you never know when you’re gonna be able to do it. If I have the chance, I’m gonna do it.”

Before this season began, Soto spoke with his new manager, the New York Yankees‘ Aaron Boone, about the benefits of Melvin’s approach. Soto said he made it clear that designated hitter duties were undesirable — “If I’m playing,” he said, “I’m playing right field” — and after getting a taste of 162, he wanted to validate an axiom that applies to baseball as much as any job: The greatest ability is availability.

“Some guys are more equipped to handle that than others,” said Boone, himself a 162er in 2002. “Whether that’s body type, athleticism, whatever it may be. Some people are cut out for it.”


IN ANY GIVEN game, a batter can foul a ball off his foot. He can wear a fastball to the ribs. He can tweak a muscle running, turn an ankle on the bases or strain a forearm making a throw. Throughout the course of baseball history, players have pulled an oblique sneezing, wrecked their hands playing Guitar Hero, sliced their finger on a drone, thrown out their back carrying luggage and missed games because of frostbite due to leaving an ice pack on for too long.

The road to 162 is paved with potholes. And it’s why the fourth element, Olson said, is the most important.

“I feel like luck is the biggest factor,” he said. “There are just so many little ways that something can go wrong on a baseball field. You take one swing. You step on a base weird. There’s a lot of preparation that goes into your work, but sometimes things are out of your control.”

Ripken understands this acutely. Toward the end of his career, after the streak had ended, he underwent back surgery that limited him to 83 games in 2000. Before the 2001 season, he vowed to return to spring training feeling like someone closer to 30 than 40. Part of his offseason training included high-intensity pickup basketball games in the gym at his home. Less than two weeks before spring training, he invited a group of Baltimore Ravens players to the gym, and as he intercepted a pass, Ravens cornerback Chris McAlister crashed into him and broke one of Ripken’s ribs. For well over a decade, Ripken had played pickup hoops without incident. And then his luck ran out.

Those turns of fate happen all the time. In 2020, Semien — the closest thing to a baseball iron man today, having played every game in the four full seasons since 2019 — missed seven games when the same pesky side soreness he played through in previous seasons proved too trying to withstand. If not for that week, his consecutive games played streak would be at 800.

He’s one of only 14 players this century who have joined Olson in booking back-to-back full seasons. Just four players have done it three or more consecutive years: Tejada (six in a row), Juan Pierre (five), Prince Fielder (three) and Hideki Matsui (three).

Swanson comes close: He played in 160 of the Braves’ 161 games in 2021 before hitting all 162 the following season, one in which his foot was stepped on at the beginning, threatening his attempt in its infancy. Luck wound up on his side, as he missed no time.

“With all of it,” Swanson said, “there is a lot of good fortune that goes into it.”


DESPITE ALL THE hoopla and fanfare that came with passing Gehrig, Ripken never truly appreciated his streak until years after. For a player to match it, he would need 16-plus seasons without missing a game. In the course of baseball history, only 49 players have participated in more than 2,632 games period.

“It seems like more of an accomplishment looking back on it than it felt going through it,” Ripken said. “Some people think that it was an obsession to play all those games in a row because I wanted to break Lou Gehrig’s record. That wasn’t it. I’d rather have had more hits than Pete Rose or more homers than Hank [Aaron].

“But I’m glad I did it.”

Because, as Ripken said, there’s something special about the ability to be out there for every game — to master the mental, withstand the physical, embrace the intelligent and bask in the luck. Everything needs to align for just one season of 162.

When something happens infrequently enough that since 1961 there are more 40 home run seasons than it — 286 to 277 — its scarcity speaks for itself. At the same time, it wouldn’t be right to give the final word to a statistic. Playing 162 is about so much more than the bold number on a player’s Baseball-Reference page. It’s about being part of a special fraternity whose members deeply respect one another and bathe in the admiration of those who simply can’t fathom what it takes to play all 162.

“The thing I take the most pride in is that over the course of my career, I’ve never been on the IL and never been scratched from a game and always been available,” Merrifield said. “When I haven’t played, it hasn’t been my decision. I just hope it continues that way.”

Jorge Castillo, Alden Gonzalez and Jesse Rogers contributed to this report.

Continue Reading

Sports

Remembering Ruffian 50 years after her breakdown at Belmont

Published

on

By

Remembering Ruffian 50 years after her breakdown at Belmont

Thoroughbred racing suffered its most ignominious, industry-deflating moment 50 years ago today with the breakdown of Ruffian, an undefeated filly running against Foolish Pleasure in a highly promoted match race at Belmont Park. Her tragic end on July 6, 1975, was a catastrophe for the sport, and observers say racing has never truly recovered.

Two years earlier, during the rise of second-wave feminism, the nation had been mesmerized by a “Battle of the Sexes” tennis match between Billie Jean King and Bobby Riggs. King’s win became a rallying cry for women everywhere. The New York Racing Association, eager to boost daily racing crowds in the mid-1970s, proposed a competition similar to that of King and Riggs. They created a match race between Kentucky Derby winner Foolish Pleasure and Ruffian, the undefeated filly who had dominated all 10 of her starts, leading gate to wire.

“In any sport, human or equine, it’s really impossible to say who was the greatest,” said outgoing Jockey Club chairman Stuart Janney III, whose parents, Stuart and Barbara, owned Ruffian. “But I’m always comfortable thinking of Ruffian as being among the four to five greatest horses of all time.”

Ruffian, nearly jet black in color and massive, was the equine version of a Greek goddess. At the age of 2, her girth — the measurement of the strap that secures the saddle — was just over 75 inches. Comparatively, racing legend Secretariat, a male, had a 76-inch girth when he was fully developed at the age of 4.

Her name also added to the aura. “‘Ruffian’ was a little bit of a stretch because it tended to be what you’d name a colt, but it turned out to be an appropriate name,” Janney said.

On May 22, 1974, Ruffian equaled a Belmont Park track record, set by a male, in her debut at age 2, winning by 15 lengths. She set a stakes record later that summer at Saratoga in the Spinaway, the most prestigious race of the year for 2-year-old fillies. The next spring, she blew through races at longer distances, including the three races that made up the so-called Filly Triple Crown.

Some in the media speculated that she had run out of female competition.

Foolish Pleasure had meanwhile ripped through an undefeated 2-year-old season with championship year-end honors. However, after starting his sophomore campaign with a win, he finished third in the Florida Derby. He also had recovered from injuries to his front feet to win the Wood Memorial and then the Kentucky Derby.

Second-place finishes in the Preakness and Belmont Stakes left most observers with the idea that Foolish Pleasure was the best 3-year-old male in the business.

Following the Belmont Stakes, New York officials wanted to test the best filly against the best colt.

The original thought was to include the Preakness winner, Master Derby, in the Great Match Race, but the team of Foolish Pleasure’s owner, trainer and rider didn’t want a three-horse race. Since New York racing had guaranteed $50,000 to the last-place horse, they paid Master Derby’s connections $50,000 not to race. Thus, the stage was set for an equine morality play.

“[Ruffian’s] abilities gave her the advantage in the match race,” Janney said. “If she could do what she did in full fields [by getting the early lead], then it was probably going to be even more effective in a match.”

Several ballyhooed match races in sports history had captured the world’s attention without incident — Seabiscuit vs. Triple Crown winner War Admiral in 1938, Alsab vs. Triple Crown winner Whirlaway in 1942, and Nashua vs. Swaps in 1955. None of those races, though, had the gender divide “it” factor.

The Great Match Race attracted 50,000 live attendees and more than 18 million TV viewers on CBS, comparable to the Grammy Awards and a pair of NFL “Sunday Night Football” games in 2024.

Prominent New York sportswriter Dick Young wrote at the time that, for women, “Ruffian was a way of getting even.”

“I can remember driving up the New Jersey Turnpike, and the lady that took the toll in one of those booths was wearing a button that said, ‘I’m for her,’ meaning Ruffian,” Janney said.

As the day approached, Ruffian’s rider, Jacinto Vasquez, who also was the regular rider of Foolish Pleasure including at the Kentucky Derby, had to choose whom to ride for the match race.

“I had ridden Foolish Pleasure, and I knew what he could do,” Vasquez told ESPN. “But I didn’t think he could beat the filly. He didn’t have the speed or stamina.”

Braulio Baeza, who had ridden Foolish Pleasure to victory in the previous year’s premier 2-year-old race, Hopeful Stakes, was chosen to ride Foolish Pleasure.

“I had ridden Foolish Pleasure and ridden against Ruffian,” Baeza said, with language assistance from his wife, Janice Blake. “I thought Foolish Pleasure was better than Ruffian. She just needed [early race] pressure because no one had ever pressured her.”

The 1⅛ mile race began at the start of the Belmont Park backstretch in the chute. In an ESPN documentary from 2000, Jack Whitaker, who hosted the race telecast for CBS, noted that the atmosphere turned eerie with dark thunderclouds approaching before the race.

Ruffian hit the side of the gate when the doors opened but straightened herself out quickly and assumed the lead. “The whole world, including me, thought that Ruffian was going to run off the screen and add to her legacy,” said longtime New York trainer Gary Contessa, who was a teenager when Ruffian ruled the racing world.

However, about ⅛ of a mile into the race, the force of Ruffian’s mighty strides snapped two bones in her front right leg.

“When she broke her leg, it sounded like a broken stick,” Vasquez said. “She broke her leg between her foot and her ankle. When I pulled up, the bone was shattered above the ankle. She couldn’t use that leg at all.”

It took Ruffian a few moments to realize what had happened to her, so she continued to run. Vasquez eventually hopped off and kept his shoulder leaning against her for support.

“You see it, but you don’t want to believe it,” Janney said.

Baeza had no choice but to have Foolish Pleasure finish the race in what became a macabre paid workout. The TV cameras followed him, but the eyes of everyone at the track were on the filly, who looked frightened as she was taken back to the barn area.

“When Ruffian broke down, time stood still that day,” Contessa said. Yet time was of the essence in an attempt to save her life.

Janney said that Dr. Frank Stinchfield — who was the doctor for the New York Yankees then and was “ahead of his time in fixing people’s bones” — called racing officials to see whether there was anything he could do to help with Ruffian.

New York veterinarian Dr. Manny Gilman managed to sedate Ruffian, performed surgery on her leg and, with Stinchfield’s help, secured her leg in an inflatable cast. When Ruffian woke up in the middle of the night, though, she started fighting and shattered her bones irreparably. Her team had no choice but to euthanize her at approximately 2:20 a.m. on July 7.

“She was going full bore trying to get in front of [Foolish Pleasure] out of the gate,” Baeza said. “She gave everything there. She gave her life.”

Contessa described the time after as a “stilled hush over the world.”

“When we got the word that she had rebroken her leg, the whole world was crying,” Contessa said. “I can’t reproduce the feeling that I had the day after.”

The Janneys soon flew to Maine for the summer, and they received a round of applause when the pilot announced their presence. At the cottage, they were met by thousands of well-wishing letters.

“We all sat there, after dinner every night, and we wrote every one of them back,” Janney said. “It was pretty overwhelming, and that didn’t stop for a long time. I still get letters.”

Equine fatalities have been part of the business since its inception, like the Triple Crown races and Breeders’ Cup. Some have generated headlines by coming in clusters, such as Santa Anita in 2019 and Churchill Downs in 2023. However, breakdowns are not the only factor, and likely not the most influential one, in the gradual decline of horse racing’s popularity in this country.

But the impact from the day of Ruffian’s death, and that moment, has been ongoing for horse racing.

“There are people who witnessed the breakdown and never came back,” Contessa said.

Said Janney: “At about that time, racing started to disappear from the national consciousness. The average person knows about the Kentucky Derby, and that’s about it.”

Equine racing today is a safer sport now than it was 50 years ago. The Equine Injury Database, launched by the Jockey Club in 2008, says the fatality rate nationally in 2024 was just over half of what it was at its launch.

“We finally have protocols that probably should have been in effect far sooner than this,” Contessa said. “But the protocols have made this a safer game.”

Said Vasquez: “There are a lot of nice horses today, but to have a horse like Ruffian, it’s unbelievable. Nobody could compare to Ruffian.”

Continue Reading

Sports

Volpe toss hits Judge as sloppy Yanks fall again

Published

on

By

Volpe toss hits Judge as sloppy Yanks fall again

NEW YORK — A blunder that typifies the current state of the New York Yankees, who find themselves in the midst of their second six-game losing streak in three weeks, happened in front of 41,401 fans at Citi Field on Saturday, and almost nobody noticed.

The Yankees were jogging off the field after securing the third out of the fourth inning of their 12-6 loss to the Mets when shortstop Anthony Volpe, as is standard for teams across baseball at the end of innings, threw the ball to right fielder Aaron Judge as he crossed into the infield from right field.

Only Judge wasn’t looking, and the ball nailed him in the head, knocking his sunglasses off and leaving a small cut near his right eye. The wound required a bandage to stop the bleeding, but Judge stayed in the game.

“Confusion,” Yankees manager Aaron Boone said. “I didn’t know what happened initially. [It just] felt like something happened. Of course I was a little concerned.”

Avoiding an injury to the best player in baseball was on the Yankees’ very short list of positives in another sloppy, draining defeat to their crosstown rivals. With the loss, the Yankees, who held a three-game lead over the Toronto Blue Jays in the American League East standings entering June 30, find themselves tied with the Tampa Bay Rays for second place three games behind the Blue Jays heading into Sunday’s Subway Series finale.

The nosedive has been fueled by messy defense and a depleted pitching staff that has encountered a wall.

“It’s been a terrible week,” said Boone, who before the game announced starter Clarke Schmidt will likely undergo season-ending Tommy John surgery.

For the second straight day, the Mets capitalized on mistakes and cracked timely home runs. After slugging three homers in Friday’s series opener, the Mets hit three more Saturday — a grand slam in the first inning from Brandon Nimmo to take a 4-0 lead and two home runs from Pete Alonso to widen the gap.

Nimmo’s blast — his second grand slam in four days — came after Yankees left fielder Jasson Dominguez misplayed a ball hit by the Mets’ leadoff hitter in the first inning. On Friday, he misread Nimmo’s line drive and watched it sail over his head for a double. On Saturday, he was slow to react to Starling Marte’s flyball in the left-center field gap and braked without catching or stopping it, allowing Marte to advance to second for a double. Yankees starter Carlos Rodon then walked two batters to load the bases for Nimmo, who yanked a mistake, a 1-2 slider over the wall.

“That slider probably needs to be down,” said Rodon, who allowed seven runs (six earned) over five innings. “A lot of misses today and they punished them.”

Jazz Chisholm Jr.’s throwing woes at third base — a position the Yankees have asked him to play to accommodate DJ LeMahieu at second base — continued in the second inning when he fielded Tyrone Taylor’s groundball and sailed a toss over first baseman Cody Bellinger’s head. Taylor was given second base and scored moments later on Marte’s RBI single.

The Yankees were charged with their second error in the Mets’ four-run seventh inning when center fielder Trent Grisham charged Francisco Lindor’s single up the middle and had it bounce off the heel of his glove.

The mistake allowed a run to score from second base without a throw, extending the Mets lead back to three runs after the Yankees had chipped their deficit, and allowed a heads-up Lindor to advance to second base. Lindor later scored on Alonso’s second home run, a three-run blast off left-hander Jayvien Sandridge in the pitcher’s major league debut.

“Just got to play better,” Judge said. “That’s what it comes down to. It’s fundamentals. Making a routine play, routine. It’s just the little things. That’s what it kind of comes down to. But every good team goes through a couple bumps in the road.”

This six-game losing skid has looked very different from the Yankees’ first. That rough patch, consisting of losses to the Boston Red Sox and Los Angeles Angels, was propelled by offensive troubles. The Yankees scored six runs in the six games and gave up just 16. This time, run prevention is the issue; the Yankees have scored 34 runs and surrendered 54 in four games against the Blue Jays in Toronto and two in Queens.

“The offense is starting to swing the bat, put some runs on the board,” Boone said. “The pitching, which has kind of carried us a lot this season, has really, really struggled this week. We haven’t caught the ball as well as I think we should.

“So, look, when you live it and you’re going through it, it sucks, it hurts. But you got to be able to handle it. You got to be able to deal with it. You got to be able to weather it and come out of this and grow.”

Continue Reading

Sports

Former White Sox pitcher, world champ Jenks dies

Published

on

By

Former White Sox pitcher, world champ Jenks dies

Bobby Jenks, a two-time All-Star pitcher for the Chicago White Sox who was on the roster when the franchise won the 2005 World Series, died Friday in Sintra, Portugal, the team announced.

Jenks, 44, who had been diagnosed with adenocarcinoma, a form of stomach cancer, this year, spent six seasons with the White Sox from 2005 to 2010 and also played for the Boston Red Sox in 2011. The reliever finished his major league career with a 16-20 record, 3.53 ERA and 173 saves.

“We have lost an iconic member of the White Sox family today,” White Sox chairman Jerry Reinsdorf said in a statement. “None of us will ever forget that ninth inning of Game 4 in Houston, all that Bobby did for the 2005 World Series champions and for the entire Sox organization during his time in Chicago. He and his family knew cancer would be his toughest battle, and he will be missed as a husband, father, friend and teammate. He will forever hold a special place in all our hearts.”

After Jenks moved to Portugal last year, he was diagnosed with a deep vein thrombosis in his right calf. That eventually spread into blood clots in his lungs, prompting further testing. He was later diagnosed with adenocarcinoma and began undergoing radiation.

In February, as Jenks was being treated for the illness, the White Sox posted “We stand with you, Bobby” on Instagram, adding in the post that the club was “thinking of Bobby as he is being treated.”

In 2005, as the White Sox ended an 88-year drought en route to the World Series title, Jenks appeared in six postseason games. Chicago went 11-1 in the playoffs, and he earned saves in series-clinching wins in Game 3 of the ALDS at Boston, and Game 4 of the World Series against the Houston Astros.

In 2006, Jenks saved 41 games, and the following year, he posted 40 saves. He also retired 41 consecutive batters in 2007, matching a record for a reliever.

“You play for the love of the game, the joy of it,” Jenks said in his last interview with SoxTV last year. “It’s what I love to do. I [was] playing to be a world champion, and that’s what I wanted to do from the time I picked up a baseball.”

A native of Mission Hills, California, Jenks appeared in 19 games for the Red Sox and was originally drafted by the then-Anaheim Angels in the fifth round of the 2000 draft.

Jenks is survived by his wife, Eleni Tzitzivacos, their two children, Zeno and Kate, and his four children from a prior marriage, Cuma, Nolan, Rylan and Jackson.

The Associated Press contributed to this report.

Continue Reading

Trending