Number 19

Photo by Rick Stewart

From my earliest days in San Diego, I knew the name Tony Gwynn. He preceded me by one year, arriving in 1977 from Long Beach to claim a basketball scholarship at San Diego State University. The following year, he played both baseball and basketball, lettered in both, and was nearly recruited by the San Diego Clippers when he left SDSU. But the Padres intercepted him in the third round of the baseball draft and the rest is history.

San Diego is not your thriving sports mecca. One columnist referred to Tony as the "lone light in an otherwise pitch-black sports town." Sorry and sad, but not far from the truth. We love our Padres and Chargers, but the foamy surf from the ocean casts a chill, like a slow wave rippling the sand. They're just way to mellow about winning. At bat, Tony was the winning factor,  and has been called the "best hitter this generation has seen," claiming dozens of titles and records during his twenty years with the Padres. He was on fifteen all-star teams and made the top ten MVPs ten times, with a  batting record that rivaled Ted Williams:  Tony Gwynn Stats

 

Photo by Tim Mantoani

In his post-Padres years, Tony coached the SDSU Aztecs, so he never left us.  Not that he wasn't lured.  All the big guys wanted Tony, but he was true blue San Diego, and for that, we celebrate him like our favorite son. Because he was. I'm not even the biggest sports fan, and didn't really follow his career, but what I'm reading and hearing tells me I lost out. This guy was the real deal, the genuine golden athlete, the most unassuming fella you could ever meet, and the one who made you feel good because his laugh was so effervescent.

Keith Olbermann says it best, because he knew Tony, he followed his career, and he loved San Diego's most humble, joyful sports hero, the guy we lost this week, the guy who won't be replaced any time soon. See Olbermann's tribute on ESPN:   Keith Olbermann Tribute to Tony Gwynn.

National Baseball Hall of Fame exhibit (en.wikipedia.org)