Got the news this morning on my phone. Text from my buddy Tommy: “Ryno’s gone, man.” Didn’t need to ask who he meant. Only one Ryno mattered to us Cubs fans.
Ryne Sandberg died Monday at his home, surrounded by family. He was 65. Cancer finally got him. Cruel disease.
Been crying on and off all day. Not ashamed to admit it. This guy meant everything to us kids growing up on the North Side in the ’80s. Hell, he meant everything to grown men too.
Tommy and I used to skip school to catch day games at Wrigley. Always sat in the bleachers because that’s what we could afford. Watched Sandberg turn routine ground balls into poetry. Man could make a 4-6-3 double play look like ballet.
Now he’s gone. Just like that.
The Kid Who Wasn’t Supposed to Matter
The surprising aspect of Ryne Sandberg’s story is that nobody anticipated his success. Born September 18, 1959, in Spokane, Washington. Middle of nowhere as far as baseball goes. The Phillies drafted him in 1978, in the twentieth round. Throw-in player.
On January 27, 1982, Philadelphia trades him to Chicago with Larry Bowa for Ivan DeJesus. Most people thought the Cubs got a setback. DeJesus was the real player. Sandberg was just some minor league kid to balance the books.
Wrong. So damn wrong. Dallas Green, Cubs GM, moved Sandberg to second base. Smart guy, Green. Saw something nobody else did. This kid had hands like velvet and instincts you can’t teach.
Rookie year, 1982. Hit .271 with 7 homers. Nothing special on paper. But anyone who watched him knew something was different. Guy played the game like it meant something.
The Game That Changed Everything
June 23, 1984. Cubs versus Cardinals at Wrigley. NBC Game of the Week. My dad dragged me to this one. “History,” he kept saying. Had no idea how right he was.
Bottom of the ninth, Cubs down by one. Bruce Sutter on the mound for St. Louis. Hall of Fame closer. Nasty split-finger fastball that made hitters look stupid.
Sandberg steps in. The crowd’s going nuts. Takes a few pitches, then BAM. Home run to left. Game tied.
Extra innings. Bottom of the tenth, same situation. Cubs down by one again. Sutter back on the mound. Are you kidding me?
Sandberg up again. Same result. Another homer off Sutter. The Cubs win in eleven innings.
Two home runs off a Hall of Fame closer in clutch situations. On national TV. That’s when America met Ryne Sandberg. That’s when he became Ryno.
Won the MVP that year. First Cub since Ernie Banks in 1959. Deserved every single vote.
Numbers Don’t Tell the Story
Look, Sandberg’s stats were ridiculous. With a career average of 285 and 282 home runs, he has racked up 1,061 RBIs. Nine Gold Gloves in a row. Seven Silver Sluggers. Ten All-Star games.
But numbers can’t capture what it felt like to watch him play. Guy never looked rushed. Never seemed worried. Just smooth, efficient baseball.
In 1990, he hit 40 home runs. Forty! He achieved this feat while playing second base! Most second basemen were happy to hit .270 and turn a decent double play. Sandberg was crushing balls over the ivy at Wrigley while playing Gold Glove defense.
Set major league records for consecutive games without an error. Made impossible plays look routine. Changed how people thought about the position.
The Retirement That Broke Our Hearts
June 13, 1994. Middle of a terrible Cubs season. The team was awful, sitting in last place. Sandberg calls a press conference.
“I am announcing my retirement from baseball.”
What? Just like that? Guy’s only 34. Middle of a $7.1 million contract. But he was done.
Said the game wasn’t fun anymore. It became work instead of play. Lost his passion. Can’t fault a man for being honest, but damn it hurt.
Cubs fans understood, sort of. Still broke our hearts. Like watching your childhood hero walk away forever.
Ryne Sandberg’s Wife: The Women Who Stood By Him
Personal life wasn’t always smooth for Sandberg. High school sweethearts don’t always work out when you become famous. Married Cindy White in 1979 when he was barely 20. Two kids together: Justin and Lindsey. Marriage couldn’t handle the pressure of baseball life. Road trips, media attention, groupies. Too much for a young couple.
Cindy filed for divorce in July 1995, right after his retirement. Can’t blame her. Raised those kids mostly alone while he was playing ball.
Found love again with Margaret Koehnemann. Married her in August 1995. She had three kids from her first marriage: Brian, Steven, and Adriane. A blended family worked better. Margaret understood the baseball world.
She supported his comeback in 1996. Knew he needed to finish on his own terms. Good woman who gave him the stability he needed. They stayed together until the end.
The Comeback Nobody Expected
February 1996. Bombshell announcement. Sandberg’s coming back. One-year deal with the Cubs.
Nobody knew what to expect. Guy had been away from the game for almost two years. Was he still any good?
Turns out, yeah. Hit .244 with 25 homers in 150 games. Not his best numbers, but respectable for someone who’d been sitting on his couch. He proved he could still play. More importantly, he proved he belonged. Retired for good after 1997, this time satisfied.
Cooperstown Calling
January 2005. The phone call every ballplayer dreams about. Baseball Writers voted him into the Hall of Fame. 393 votes out of 516 ballots. 76.2 percent.
Induction ceremony, July 31, 2005. Cubs fans invaded Cooperstown. Heard his speech about playing the game right. About respecting teammates and opponents. Classic Sandberg; he was humble to the end.
Number 23 retired at Wrigley. Hangs next to Banks, Williams, and Santo. Perfect company for a kid from Spokane who made Chicago home.
How Did Ryne Sandberg Die? – The Fight He Couldn’t Win
Cancer. The worst kind of opponent. Diagnosed with prostate cancer in January 2024. Thought he beat it by August, declared cancer-free after chemo and radiation. But December rolled around, and the cancer came back. Spread to other organs.
Sandberg was surrounded by family when he died at home Monday. That’s how you want to go, I guess. Not alone in some hospital room. Fought like hell for over a year. Same determination he showed turning double plays. Same refusal to quit that made him great.
Cancer doesn’t care about your batting average. Doesn’t care about your Gold Gloves. Takes Hall of Famers the same as anybody else.
What He Meant to Us
Sandberg represented something pure about baseball. The guy who played the game right. Never complained about calls. Never showed up to opponents. Just went out there and did his job every single day.
Modern players could learn from that. Social media wasn’t around then. No Twitter beef or Instagram drama. Just baseball, played the way it should be.
He changed second base forever. Before Sandberg, middle infielders were scrappy little guys who hit .250 and hoped for the best. He showed you could play Gold Glove defense and hit 30 homers.
Robinson Cano, Jose Altuve, and all these modern second basemen owe him a debt. He opened that door.
The Hole He Leaves Behind
Margaret’s got to be devastated. Kids too. In fact, all of Cubs Nation is devastated. Lost one of the good ones today. Wrigley Field won’t be the same without knowing Ryno’s out there somewhere, probably watching games and shaking his head at how these young guys play.
Tommy texted again an hour ago. “Remember that double play against the Mets in ’84?” Yeah, I remember. Remember everything about that magical summer when the Cubs actually mattered and Ryne Sandberg was the reason why.
That’s what hurts most. All those memories are tied up in one person. And now he’s gone.
Rest easy, Ryno. Thanks for making baseball beautiful for those of us lucky enough to watch you play. Thanks for showing us how it’s supposed to be done.
The kid from Spokane who made Chicago believe again. Gone at 65. Way too soon.
