Being Robby Thompson

Before the San Francisco Giants had the great Jeff Kent, they had another solid second baseman named Robby Thompson. Unlike Kent, whose strength was the bat, Thompson's strength was the glove. He was the crucial pivot man between Jose Uribe and Will Clark in turning double plays and a clubhouse leader with an optimistic outlook.

Realistically, he will probably never make it into the Hall of Fame, but I will remember him for three reasons:

1. He was one of the first professional baseball players I ever met. I was thirteen years old and one of many kids who received his autographed photo.
2. He always seemed to be the potential last out of many games. I remember more times than not, he would freeze at the plate, with a two strike count, and watch the third strike sail by while his bat remained poised to swing. It was an awful way to end a game.
3. In 1993, he was hit in the face by a pitch that fractured his left cheekbone. Despite the severe injury, it was his best year in the majors. Unfortunately, it was also his last full season. He would retire three years later, at the age of 34, having spent all 11 years of his major league career with the Giants.

He is an example of who I hope and fear I am. Hopefully, I'm someone who exhibits optimism and dependability. At the same time, I fear I'm the guy who gets caught looking at the plate, unable to swing at a perfectly good pitch.