Sports hero..."Nails"

Mark Gress Jr.

When most people talk about their all-time favorite players or their sports’ “hero”, names like Michael Jordan, Johnny Unitas, Mohammad Ali, Wilt Chamberlain or Lou Gehrig come to mind. They are all athletes who exhibited some sort of grace and excellence in most facets of their sport and their life. They may have been heroes for what they did on the court or field, or maybe because of what they stood for off the court or field.

As a lover of all sports, and as a typical boy growing up in America- a baseball lover, I grew up playing, watching, listening and reading about baseball. I was always a fairly good athlete, but my best asset was my “baseball knowledge” and “game/situational” smarts. I knew how to play the game. I knew why to do certain things and why not to do others during the course of the game. Even in t-ball and grade school, I would “take one for the team” or lay a bunt down, or try to break up a double play. I knew a walk was sometimes as good as a hit. I just prided myself on being a smart baseball player.

So obviously, growing up I had to follow and emulate someone on the bigger stage that played the right way and someone from whom I could learn a thing or two. So who better than Leonard Kyle Dykstra. Lenny, a.k.a. Nails or The Dude, played center field for the New York Mets and the Philadelphia Phillies in his career. He was one of the best lead-off hitters during his 12 seasons in Major League Baseball. He played in two World Series’ and proved to be one of the most clutch postseason players in modern history. He had a career .321 postseason batting average to go along with his .433 on base percentage.

More important than statistics, he proved to be one of the best situational baseball players of all-time. “Nails”, as he was referred to by teammates and fans like, was a gritty 5’10”, 167 pound firecracker from Santa Ana, California. He batted left-handed and threw right-handed. He would always come up to the plate with half a pouch of tobacco packed in his cheek. He had nervous quirks and ticks that would remind the baseball fans of today of Nomar Garciaparra. He would dig his cleats in, tighten his gloves a few times, tap the bat on the ground, and adjust and readjust his batting helmet a half dozen times. After every pitch he would step back out and repeat the process.

Two separate occasions where I imitated Dykstra come to mind. Both came while I was playing in all-star games at the end of the baseball regular season. The first one I remember was when I was about 10 years old and I just singled, back through the middle like Lenny used to do. I took my lead off of first and got a great jump and slid safely into second. Covered in infield dirt from head to toe and while still on the ground, I called time to the umpire. I thought he gave it to me, so I jumped up, stepped off of the bag, brushed myself off, adjusted and readjusted my helmet in true Lenny fashion. The umpire actually didn’t grant my request for time and the second baseman tagged me out. (But that is not the point!)

My second memory also comes from an all-star game but about four years later while I was in the eighth grade. Again and coincidentally, I had just singled back through the middle and was standing on first. Now it is important to realize that there are certain unspoken rules in all-star games. For instance, in football you tend not to blitz and in hockey you tend not hit or get into fights. In baseball, especially an eighth grade all-star game, some people frown on taking out the second baseman or shortstop to disrupt a possible double-play. But, like Lenny and guys like Pete Rose before him, I played every game and every play like it was my last. So I took my lead off of first and got a good jump towards second as I heard a crack of the bat. I peeked in to see where the ball was at and the next thing I knew I was taking an especially “wide” slide towards second base taking the legs out from the shortstop to break up the double play.

That was what Lenny would do. He would play with his heart on his sleeve and pine tar and dirt on his batting helmet. He would play with more baseball and situational smarts than any other player. He would take a walk when the team needed a runner. He was a great base runner and a very reliable center fielder. If more baseball players today played like Lenny, the sport wouldn’t be America’s “past” time.