Final Thoughts on Paul Konerko

In all my years of attending White Sox games, I can only recall two where I walked out of the park thinking about something other than whether the Sox won or lost the game.  The first occasion happened in 2006 when the White Sox handed out World Series rings.  The second time was on September 27, 2014--otherwise known as Paul Konerko Day in the State of Illinois.  On this evening, Konerko would play his next to last game in his long and productive baseball career.  Even with a bad back, a broken bone in his hand, and a heavy heart, Konerko showed up just as he had for the previous 16 years.  You could see why White Sox fans identified with "Paulie."  He showed up to work, did his job, and did so with a hard nosed yet modest style of play.  He never whined to the media about his contract or the umpires and never showed up in columns about DUIs or steroids.  Paul did not like the spotlight or being center of attention, and he didn't welcome the hoopla of his impending retirement.  He wanted to go out his way...quietly.

On an evening where he was presented with countless gifts from his current and former teammates as well as a bronze statue of himself, Konerko maintained his composure and spoke gracefully and humbly (he first thanked and congratulated the visiting Kansas City Royals who had clinched a post-season birth the evening prior).  Listening to Konerko, I felt like I was listening to an old friend or even a guy sitting in the row behind me.  Paulie was one of us.  

We unfairly put athletes on pedestals, but then seem surprised when they disappoint us.  After all, athletes are humans just like the rest of us.  Yet, Konerko never seemed disappointed his fans.  He could hit into double play after double play, but his fans never turned on him.  It's rare for fans to give any player a free pass, but it happened. 

White Sox fans are notorious for finding excuses not to go to the ballpark, yet 38,160 of them showed up on Paul Konerko Night.  We wanted to say goodbye to our Captain and the final remaining player from the World Champion 2005 team.  That night, Paul Konerko the human being was proudly on display: husband, father to three kids, and humble leader of the White Sox.  Paul was no longer an athlete in my eyes, but a mere mortal like the rest of the 38,000 seated there.  First base just won't look the same again.  You will be missed, Paulie.