Gary Carter: The World Loses a Smile
I am too young to have followed Gary Carter. I never met him, never read any books about him, and I can’t claim to have any specific connection with him. I knew he was a great ballplayer and somewhat of an iconic figure, but up until yesterday, that’s around where my knowledge stopped and began.
So I’m not about to attempt to write an obituary for Carter; if that’s what you’re looking for, there are numerous touching obits out there. I can’t stop reading them myself, and I recommend you at least read one in remembrance of Carter.
I suppose I could use this space to do a career retrospective. To look at how Carter stacks up against other all-time great player. To celebrate some of the finer moments of his career. Matt Klaassen had one of these earlier today, but for some reason, I’m feeling very un-FanGraphs-y right now.
We spend a lot of time here focusing on facts. Statistics. Data. Scouting reports. Things that can help us better evaluate players and teams, and make judgement calls about how they will do in the future, if they belong in the Hall of Fame, etc etc. We analyse, we parse, we dissect. Whether our motivation is for improving our fantasy baseball skills, becoming a more knowledgeable fan, or gaining a more pure understanding about this childish game, we’re all here searching for a higher Truth.
But on moments like this, statistics get thrown out the window. Heck, baseball gets thrown out the window. And it’s in these sort of moments where I’m reminded why I first started following baseball to begin with.
This may come as a shock, but sabermetrics isn’t how I first fell in love with the game. I’d be willing to bet it isn’t how anyone out there became a fan. I turned to the numbers to sate my thirst for baseball and to better connect with the game, but my true first connection with baseball came through the human side of the game. My dad was a huge Yankees fan, and I grew up being indoctrinated into the Church of Baseball — learning all the rituals and customs (don’t step on that foul line!), partaking of the daily game, and memorizing the names of all the past and former “saints”. I firmly believe that baseball has its own mythology, and it’s difficult to understand the allure of the game if you didn’t grow up as a believer.
More to the point, I became a full-fledged baseball addict when I started reading about the human side of players. About how Yogi Berra used to read comics in the clubhouse and get teased for it. About how Joe DiMaggio grew up as the son of a San Francisco fisherman, sneaking away to play baseball whenever he could manage. About how Mickey Mantle’s father spent his days in the mines, and his nights playing ball with his son.
From all reports, Gary Carter was a fantastic human being. He was a gentle, good-guy ballplayer in an era where his behavior was far from the norm (or necessarily always appreciated). He didn’t drink, didn’t smoke, was hopelessly devoted to his wife, was open to everyone and rarely said no, and never had a smile far from his face. He was, quintessentially, The Kid.
Maybe I’m romanticizing Carter. Sure, he must have had his warts as well; he was human, and none of us can be the best version of ourselves every minute of every day. But despite that, I keep coming back to this: it’s worth celebrating a life like Carter’s. And I’m not talking about his statistics or baseball-related feats; I’m talking about his life.
I’ve been lucky enough to know two people that embraced life — both the good and the bad — with open arms and undaunted smiles. My grandfather was one; my former Cubmaster was another. No matter how old they were when they died, I couldn’t help thinking that both left this world too soon. These days, I find it’s all too easy to forget the larger picture — to get sucked into the day-to-day minutia and stress, to obsess over Twitter, to forget to greet people in the store with a smile and kind word, and to spend my hours worrying about stats, analysis, and my various insecurities. The world needs more people like my grandfather, my Cubmaster, and Carter — people that wouldn’t just ask how you’re doing, but would actually want to know the answer.
Despite not following Gary Carter as a kid, despite not knowing much about him until 24 hours ago, I found myself shedding a few tears for him this morning. Yes, he was a great baseball player, but I hope his legacy will end up being more than his home run total or WAR chart. He’s a player I could see teaching my (future) children about one day, beginning their indoctrination to baseball by learning about one of the all-time great players and human beings.
Later this weekend, I’m planning on going to the grocery store, looking the cashier in the eye, and asking them how they’re doing. And you know, really asking, complete with a matching smile and interested eyes. It may not be much, but I like to think that’ll be a better tribute to Gary Carter than anything I can write.
Great piece, Steve. Thanks.
Found myself with similar thoughts, being around the same age and never seeing him play. Great job putting it into words.
Gracias Steve por escribir algo tan hermoso como esto.
Wonderfully written. A great reminder about the important things in life. Thank you.
Gary Carter was one of my favorite players to watch growing up. I grew up a Phillies fan, so I remember him best when he was beating us as an Expo and as a Met (this happened pretty frequently, unfortunately). He was impossible to hate, as he always seemed to be having a great time. And he was good. Very good.
I am probably one of the few human beings on the planet who was an enthusiastic Expos fan while Carter was there, and then switched over to being an enthusiastic Mets fan around the time Carter was traded to them.
(my switch of allegences had not much directly to do with Carter’s move – it was, more broadly, because the Mets improved across the board, and became less painful for a New Yorker to root for).
Anyway, on the subject of, “Gary Carter was a fantastic human being. He was a gentle, good-guy ballplayer in an era where his behavior was far from the norm (or necessarily always appreciated). He didn’t drink, didn’t smoke, was hopelessly devoted to his wife, was open to everyone and rarely said no, and never had a smile far from his face. He was, quintessentially, The Kid. Maybe I’m romanticizing Carter. Sure, he must have had his warts as well”
Seems to me that the biggest “wart” Carter seemed to have had was that his good-guy stuff, as upbeat and positive as it often was, also seemed a little forced, over-the-top, and preachy at times. I remember that it seemed occasionally grate on teammates and fans, and made him seem somewhat unengaging and two-dimensional as a character in the baseball narrative. It seems similar to the way Steve Garvey or Curt Schilling grated on folks (without Garve’s revelations of hypocritical behavior, or Schilling’s intentional antagonism), or the way Tim Tebow grates on some folks (but with much less of the whole religious/cultural war dimension).
Anyway – yes, a great player, a powerful asset to the teams he played on, and, generally, a great guy. May he rest in peace.
I grew up as a Mets fan in the 1980′s. When I was thirteen, and the Mets were on top of the world, I sat near to him at the U.S. Open. He graciously signed an autograph and was a perfect gentleman. The autograph said “God Bless Gary Carter”. No comma. It was an odd thing, and I assume the comma was intended. Yet . . . I read the article in today’s times which quotes Ron Darling about Carter. He says all the right words about Carter but you can see lots of references like “we were very different but . . .” “We weren’t always good friends but . . .” There is a sense that Carter held himself apart, and not in a reserved way, but in maybe a self righteous and self congratulatory way. The way he felt slighted a few years ago when he wasn’t seriously considered for a Mets managerial opening. I don’t know Gary Carter. He was a great baseball player. A deserving hall of famer. Yet, there is something about “Camera Carter” that probably kept him apart. I don’t feel the same way about Mookie Wilson, who is likewise universally praised as a good person. Mookie just seemed more real than Gary, more human and more humble. Carter probably was more sincere than I give him credit for, but the over-the-top aspect of it clearly bothered those who lived and worked with him every day.
Yeah, a lot of the 80′s Mets would often roll their eyes or joke about Carter, but all you have to do is listen to Keith Hernandez’s emotional interview yesterday to realize that they still loved him like a brother.
I hope this hasn’t went too far down the list so that no one will read it, but:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AY5RSmXzfvc
Somehow, I feel this video needs to be watched more than 2,000 times. Thanks to Yahoo Sports for pointing out this video exists.
Gary Carter was one of the most loved players to ever don a Expos uniform. Montreal mourns this week. The guy really reached out to French Canadian fans and made an effort to learn the language when he played there. Great human being and a great ballplayer.
ESPN had a good tribute to Kid.
In regards to the swearing, they said the only cuss they ever heard him say was after his 2-out single in G6 of the 86 WS when he said to the 1B coach, “I wasn’t going to be the guy that made the last ***ing out of the WS.” If you’re going to pick a time for your first acknowledged cuss, that’s a pretty good selection.
We often comment that we want baseball players to act like X, and then when they act like X we find some way to complain about it.
Admittingly I missed the best of Carter because he was being hid in Montreal and ESPN wasn’t the worldwide Leader in Sports in the early 80s, so I only saw him in All-Star games, where everyone was happy and gracious.
How someone can be that damn happy playing catcher for all those years is beyond me.
I forget where I read it, but someone did quite a bit of research and concluded that Carter saved more runs via limiting PB and WP than any other C. That certainly makes a lot of pitchers happy.
Like the Expos fan above said, as a Cardinals fan, my loyalties were split with Mets following Hernandez’s move to NY. Those Mets we’re just a thrilling team to follow. We routinely call for vets to be leaders for young, impessionable players and I found it to be sad that more of them didn’t emulate Carter, to their own detriment.
Gary Carter’s 1980 Topps card remains one of my favorites because of the awesome action photo and the 3-color catcher’s helmet. *grin*
Wonderfully written, Steve. Good work.