Old School All-Stars

You probably don't need to be told what it means to kick it old school, but let's sum it up with a succinct story anyway, just in case. (An old schooler might spike you down at second for using the word "succinct" in his presence. By the way.)

Here's the story: Lenny Dykstra, an outfielder for the Mets and Phillies between 1985-1996, gave himself a nickname, "Nails" - obviously not a handle for a shrinking violet, and one which, if not aptly descriptive of the ballplayer, could be fertile ground for almost endless mirth at his expense. However, Nails being, well, Nails, he proceeded to go out and live up to that nickname every day for 12 gritty seasons, stealing bases, running into walls, diving for balls, hitting clutch home runs, spitting tobacco juice everywhere and generally creating havoc wherever he went, on and off the field.

That's old school, my friends.

Whether it's music, fashion, interior design or even baseball, retro is hot - been hot for a few years now, with no sign of letting up. Clearly America has a passion for making the old new again in every facet of society.

We love our throwback ballers - just look at the following of guys like David Eckstein of the Cardinals and "Super" Joe McEwing of the Royals.

Elvis Presley has his own channel on Sirius satellite radio, all Elvis, all the time - his rendering of My Way is ... honestly it's disconcerting, but that's another story.

Mitchell & Ness is a leader in the lucrative business of throwback apparel, featuring dead-on replicas of uniform jerseys from all corners of the sporting world. If you want to walk around in Nolan Ryan's number 30 Mets road jersey from 1969, it's yours at M&N - for $250.

It's true, nostalgia often comes with a steep price tag. Usually, however, if you're a team in the market for an old school ballplayer, you can get one pretty cheap. In the language of the nouveau-Moneyball world, despite their relative rarity, old schoolers are what some would call "undervalued." Why, you ask? In short, their skills don't always translate into results in the big statistical categories - in order to appreciate their often subtle contributions, you need to be willing to look beyond skin deep.

Since the dawn of the free agent era in baseball, in 1977, when players acquired the ability to control their destiny within the game, the divide between the player and the fan has grown perceptibly. Even moderately paid players make annual salaries that take the rest of us years to equal, and the elite players make more money than most of us can fathom.

Due to their sizable paychecks, and the perception by fans of a mercenary approach to their careers (that accompanied free agency), an idea has come of age within baseball's fandom that today's players are pampered and a tad disinterested - certainly not as fiercely competitive as their forebears. In short, the modern ballplayer would rather be clean than dirty, safe than sorry, more slap and tickle than gritty and gutty, as it were.

Many of us do not necessarily agree with that point of view - and in any case, the ironic twist here is that modern American society insists that our heroes, athletes included, be as bland and crisp as they can be. Derek Jeter is a perfect example. If you can find a spot of mischief in Jeter, even a tidbit of the outlandish or bizarre, even a touch of the wacky, then you have found a rare jewel indeed. Jeter is a great competitor, but a profoundly boring human being - at least, to the fan who only knows him through his public persona.

To most fans, Derek Jeter, like a lot of his fellow ballplayers, is not in the same class of humanity as us, he stands apart, inaccessible and closed off - by his monies, his lifestyle, the way that he unfastens and fastens again his batting gloves, over and over - by so many things, really.

There are, however, those players who bridge the gap between the athletes and the fans, the guys who play the game in such a way, and often conduct themselves in such a way, that it makes us think of old times and old ballplayers like Pepper Martin and Dizzy Dean of the infamous "Gashouse Gang," to name a few of so many characters to which the game has played host. The players who go after it every day with such reckless abandon and, often, an obvious joy, who play the game with urgency, as though their lives depend on it. Guys who don't always muzzle themselves when they speak to the press, who have a visible humanity about them.

The fans pay them back with much love.

These players aren't always the best, and they often don't have the natural talent, or "tools" of their peers, but they work, they get dirty, they make things happen between the lines. In short, they would have been just as comfortable playing the game in 1952. These are your Old School All-Stars of the modern, post-free agency era. (An old schooler, finding himself dissatisfied with this list, would almost certainly write the author of the list an angry missive - feel free to do just that, if the mood strikes you.)

First Base - Keith Hernandez. Mex was the 776th choice of the 1971 draft, selected in the 42nd round, he ran with his feet protruding to the sides like a duck, and he never seemed to have much muscle on his slender frame, but God could he play ball. He played most of his career for the Cardinals and Mets, winning a championship with each franchise. He won 11 Gold Gloves, on work as much as talent, played almost every day, and was an on-base machine. Plus, he was having a cigarette and a beer in the clubhouse when Gary Carter ignited the miracle rally that culminated in a Game 6 victory over the Red Sox in the 1986 World Series - that's old school if there ever was such a thing.
Honorable Mention: Mark Grace.

Second Base - Craig Biggio. One of those rare birds who has labored his entire career with one team, the Houston Astros. Perhaps the most telling aspect of Biggio's career: he is second all-time in the HBP - hit by pitch - category, leading the league six times in his career. An All-Star seven times, the relatively slight Biggio is a whirlwind of dirt and effort on the field, doing all of the little things right to help his team win. Last season, at age 39, he hit 26 homers.
Honorable Mention: Wally Backman.

Shortstop - Ozzie Guillen. Oz gets the nod as much for his Katie bar the door mouth and managerial style as he does for a playing career long on effort and hustle and short on historical accomplishment. He finished in the top ten for sacrifice hits seven times in his career - Ozzie wasn't afraid to move a runner over. He was, incredibly, caught with the hidden-ball trick three times, and, in shoving Jeff Cirillo of the Brewers on that fateful day in July, 1995, he set off a brawl that culminated with Brewers manager Phil Garner and White Sox manager Terry Bevington having a bit of a tussle.
Honorable Mention: David Eckstein.

Third Base - Terry Pendleton. This guy is 5'9" and was drafted in the seventh round of the 1982 amateur draft - you don't make your way from there to NL MVP in 1991 without a lot of guts. A three-time Gold Glover, Pendleton could flash the leather. Although apparently victimized in 1991 by a partisan stadium worker, and never the wearer of a championship ring, despite five World Series appearances, Pendleton always made his team better.
Dishonorable Mention: Bobby Bonilla.

Catcher - Tony Pena. His unique style behind the plate, leg jauntily extended, and his snap throws down to first were the hallmarks of this great backstop. Pena only hit the DL once in his 18 years in the Bigs - a remarkable achievement for a catcher. He was renowned for his love of the game, and his unique relationship with the pitchers he caught. During a game in 1995, while playing for the Indians, he walked to the mound and slapped closer Jose Mesa in the face with his glove in an effort to help Mesa find some focus.
Honorable Mention: Ivan "Pudge" Rodriguez. (Just kidding.)

Left Field - Kirk Gibson. "In a year that has been so improbable, the impossible has happened!" Vin Scully made the call as Gibby executed what is, perhaps, the defining old school moment of the modern era, hitting the famous pinch-hit homer for the Dodgers in 1988 off Dennis Eckersley in Game One of the World Series, hobbling around the bases on one leg pumping his fist. Hardnosed is a word that fits - so is surly. Gibson didn't suffer fools during his playing career, and he didn't censor himself much either, popping off whenever he pleased.
Honorable Mention: Greg "The Bull" Luzinski.

Center Field - Willie McGee. The double earflap helmet looked like it was screwed on permanently, and his uniform was always filthy. As Mets fans know well, as fast as he was, Willie often killed you slowly and painfully - in 1985, when he was the NL MVP, he led the league with 162 singles, and stole 56 bases. The man hustled and bustled - as a fan states at williemcgee.com, number 51 "played so hard and ran with his head down."
Honorable Mention: Lenny "Nails" Dykstra.

Right Field - Trot Nixon. It's hard to imagine an old school ballplayer with a name like "Trot" - old schoolers hustle, they don't jog - but Nixon is hardcore. Considered the original "Boston Dirt Dog", he always wears the dirtiest uniform and most vile helmet on the field. Nixon is clutch - in nine postseason series he has 5 homers and 22 RBI - and learned the "relentless type of attitude" (Boston Globe) that marks his play from his father.

Pitcher - Bob Welch. Welch had one of the best seasons by a pitcher in recent memory, going 27-6 in 1990, and co-authored a seminal book on alcoholism, Five O'Clock Comes Early, with George Vecsey. Welchy didn't lack for guts - he struck out Reggie Jackson with all fastballs in the bottom of the ninth, Game 2 of the 1978 World Series while pitching for the Dodgers. He spent last season scuffling around the minors as a pitching coach for the Ogden Raptors, and in this piece, in the Great Falls Tribune, reveals why: "The thing I know most is baseball. Whatever it is, if it's baseball, I'm happy."

Pitcher - Orlando "El Duque" Hernandez. From the wacky windup to the wild array of pitches and arm angles, Hernandez is old school all the way through. He cemented his reputation as a great clutch pitcher last season as a member of the champion White Sox, throwing three memorable innings in relief against the Red Sox in the ALDS, Game Three. Plus, what could possibly be more old school than escaping Cuba in a "poorly built vessel" after inciting the ire of Fidel Castro?
Honorable Mention: Dennis "Oil Can" Boyd.

Relief Pitcher - Bob Wickman. Before there were training regimens, ballplayers sometimes looked like Wicky. While he probably doesn't run stadium steps, he does lock down ballgames - to the tune of 214 career saves, including 45 for a resurgent Tribe in 2005. Wickman's Warriors tell the story of their hero's intentional balk last season - and bear witness to how this ordinary guy has connected with fans.

Relief Pitcher - Tim Wakefield. Throwing the funny one more often than not, and with a good bit of success, gets Wake on the list - the knuckler has a rich history going back through the years. While he has been almost exclusively a starter the last few seasons, he spent a considerable portion of his career in the bullpen. He attended the Florida Institute of Technology before being drafted in the eighth round of the 1988 amateur draft. Although he surrendered six homers in a game against the Tigers in August, 2004, he still got the win. His leadership was a big part of the Red Sox run in 2004.
Honorable Mention: Al "The Mad Hungarian" Hrabosky.

Manager - Davey Johnson. Skipper of the quintessential old school team, the 1986 Mets, Johnson let his players do what they pleased - it was his loyalty to coaches and players, and fiery attitude, however, that inspired his teams. Davey resigned as manager of the Orioles the day after being named Manager of the Year in 1997 - leaving $750,000 on the table.
Honorable Mention: Earl Weaver.