Favorite of All Time

So this post will be similar to the last post in that both are inspired by Bill Simmons's book, "Now I Can Die in Peace," and both have to do with how we view athletes. (On a side note, while I was at Random McRandom's apartment for dinner on friday night, I skimmed through a bit of the aforementioned "Eats, Shoots, and Leaves," which had been minding its own business on her living room table. I noticed the chapter about apostrophes, and concluded that I didn't realize how many people screw them up. Notice above where I use the word "Simmons's." Since "Simmons" is a proper noun, you must put an apostrophe-S to make it possessive. If, however, I wanted to refer to the Sports Guy and Gal as a unit, I would pluralize them and say "the Simmonses." If I wanted to make them possessive, I would have to write "the Simmonses's house." I know it's absurd, but that's the way it is. Oh, and Random McRandom, at whose apartment I ate on friday night, and I are inextricably linked since we both have a blog. You can check her out, I mean check hers out at http://mabakankan.blogspot.com. I haven't read it yet, but I'll try.) In the second part of the book, Simmons recounts a story about how his buddy Gus, who had Tom Seaver spend time at his house, got to catch for him while Tom was considering making a comeback with the Mets in the early '90s. Bill wants us to understand what was going through his friend Gus's mind while this was going down: "Pick your favorite athlete of all time, then imagine that entire sequence of events somehow unfolding with you and that athlete." Now, I'm trying to imagine being in that situation, but who would the athlete be? I'm trying to create a set of rules for selecting a favorite athlete, and I think I've been pretty thorough.
Disclaimer: Instead or typing "he or she" and "him or her" and "his or her" all the time, I'm just going to use the masculine pronouns. I fully approve of women engaging in sports, and everyone is free to select Sheryl Swoopes or Annika Sorenstam or Danica Patrick for their favorite athlete. Ok, here goes:

1. The athlete must have played for your favorite team for at least a few years, or at the very least made a large impact on your team over a shorter period of time. For example, Arizona Diamondbacks fans are allowed to select Randy Johnson as their favorite player because even though he was there for a short time, he helped them win the World Series.
2. You must have liked the athlete from the beginning of his career. He did not necessarily need to start his career on your team, but you must have liked the athlete even before he arrived to play for you. For example, Mets fans are allowed to select Carlos Beltran, but only if they followed his career in Kansas City from its early stages. Bandwagon jumpers will not be tolerated here.
3. This rule applies not only to favorite players, but also to favorite teams. You cannot choose your favorite player based on anything tangible. You can't say "Albert Pujols is my favorite player because he hits 500 foot home runs," or "Orel Hershiser was my favorite player becase he pitched 59.2 consecutive scoreless innings," or "the Mets are my favorite team because my house is geographically closer to Shea Stadium than to Yankee Stadium." What would happen if those criteria stopped applying? What if you moved to the Bronx? What if Hershiser's record was stricken because of a technicality? This is the same for any kind of love. Saying, "I love my wife because she is a smokin' hottie," is foolish for obvious reasons. There can't be a reason you love someone or something. You love your team just because. You can't explain it; it's a sensation you feel deep inside your very soul. It's not even a consious decision you can make. You know you love a team when everything they do affects you. It's the ones you love who can cause you the most pain. To explain this point, allow me to quote Simmons from later on in the book: "Twenty minutes after the Yankees eliminated the Red Sox, I called my father to make sure he was still alive. And that's not even a joke. I wanted to make sure Dad wasn't dead. That's what it feels like to be a Sox fan. You make phone calls thinking to yourself, 'Hopefully, my dad picks up, because there's at least a five percent chance that the Red Sox just killed him.'" You live and die by your favorite players and your favorite teams; you can't help it.

With these thoughts in mind, I need to decide who my favorite player is. I can't come up with a list of players I like and then narrow it down; I need to look deep within myself and let my emotions decide for me. I realize that my mind already knows who it is, but it's keeping its thoughts to itself for the time being. It might be Wayne Chrebet, who left his heart out on the field every time he put on the green and white, and gave me a concussion every time he got one. It might be David Wright, who looks like he won the lottery every time he strolls out of the dugout, because he knows he gets to play baseball for a living. He might not even be on any sports radar yet, because he's only 11 years old. It might not even be fair for me to have a favorite player yet, because I'm only 24, and G-d willing I have 60 more years of watching sports ahead of me. For now, I'll continue to watch the players I like, and hopefully the moment will come when I know who my sports hero is.