Don Zimmer watches batting practice back in 2009. (Photo courtesy of Al Messerschmidt/Getty Images)
Don Zimmer watches batting practice back in 2009. (Photo courtesy of Al Messerschmidt/Getty Images)

The Rays dropped their ninth in a row last night, falling to the Marlins 5-4 at the Trop. Yet, something happened to put things back in perspective — the passing of Don Zimmer. In lieu of a proper game recap (you can read my real time, blow-by-blow account of the game at our Tumblr page), what follows is my goodbye to Don Zimmer — may you rest in peace, Zim.

A teary-eyed Todd Kalas broke the news of Don Zimmer’s passing in the bottom of the fifth inning of last night’s game. Moments later, a camera man/lady panned to the Rays dugout, where an emotional Tom Foley was seen wiping tears from his eyes. It started to sink in at that point, my all-time favorite baseball personality was gone after 83 years — 66 of which were spent in a baseball uniform. That’s when the tears started to fall from my eyes.

First, a short Don Zimmer primer.

Zimmer broke in to the big leagues in 1954 with the Brooklyn Dodgers — a ball-club that featured Jackie Robinson, Duke Snider and Roy Campanella.

Though his playing career would come to an end in 1965, Zimmer’s time in the game was just beginning; he was a coach and player his final two seasons with the Washington Senators, starting Zimmer on a path that would make him a baseball lifer.

Zimmer served four stints as a major league manager: in the mid-late 1970’s with the Boston Red Sox, 1981-1983 with the Rangers, with the Chicago Cubs from 1988-1991, and with the New York Yankees in 1996 — where he found his greatest fame.

Zimmer became a senior advisor for the Tampa Bay Rays in 2004. His role included assisting the team during Spring Training, and during home games. Every year, Zimmer incremented his uniform number by one to match the number of years he has worked in baseball. During the 2014 season he wore #66, seen below.

(Photo courtesy of the Tampa Bay Rays)
(Photo courtesy of the Tampa Bay Rays)

Zimmer famously noted that every paycheck he’d ever gotten came from baseball, and that he never held a job in any other profession.

In my opinion, Zimmer represented everything good about baseball. He also exemplified two things to me. The first is simple: hard work and perseverance are what make you successful in life. In Zimmer’s time on the field, his rigor…his push dominated over the innate ability to play the game.

Paul White of USA Today wrote something that speaks to the idea above,

Players at the time (in 1967, when Zimmer was manager of Cincinnati’s Class AAA Buffalo team) often had to leave their teams for a couple of weeks to serve National Guard duty. During one of those stretches, Zimmer, 36, activated himself to fill out the roster.

He even played a bit – and one night hit a home run.

My recollection decades later was that, as a high schooler, I saw a monster homer well up into a light tower in left field, as long a shot as anyone had seen there.

Sitting on the bench during batting practice one day before a Tampa Bay Rays game, I brought up the homer and asked if my memory was correct.

Zimmer’s eyes bulged as if he was about to charge Pedro Martinez.

“Yes, yes, you were there?” he said. “Oh, come with me, young man.”

He pulled me to a group of coaches and clubhouse guys waiting for batting practice to start.

“Tell these guys what you just told me,” Zimmer blurted out with the fervor of some of his best arguments with umpires.

Apparently, Zimmer had been repeating the homer story for years but nobody believed him. Here was verification and vindication that this tale at least wasn’t a tall one.

He later said the only other person who ever backed his story of unlikely power was Earl Weaver, who was managing Rochester against Zimmer that night. Zimmer claimed Weaver added a detail Zim didn’t recall — that Jim Palmer was the opposing pitcher.

The second thing can be best summed up by a Charles Bukowski quote, “Find what you love and let it kill you. Let it drain you of your all. Let it cling onto your back and weigh you down into eventual nothingness.” Baseball was Zimmer’s professional life. He was a wealth of knowledge and history, and Zimmer lived and breathed the game — always making himself available to players whom he mentored.

Don Zimmer not only effected those close to him — family, friends, and colleagues — but those, like me, who grew up watching the charismatic manager. One of the first teams baseball teams I ever followed was the Chicago Cubs. I was a little kid growing up in an area void of Major League Baseball. At that time, the closest Major League franchise was the Atlanta Braves. Thanks to the wonderful world of cable, I latched on to a lovable team from the north-side of Chicago, and their lovable, gerbil checked, manager. Incidentally, that was also when I became aware of DeWayne Staats, but that’s neither here or now.

I can distinctly remember coming home from elementary school, and turning on WGN to watch an afternoon game. Ever present were the personalities that made me love the game: Andre Dawson, Ryne Sandberg, Mark Grace, Shawon Dunston, Jerome Walton, Doug Dascenzo, Joe Girardi, Greg Maddux, Mitch Williams, and Don Zimmer. As a good friend wrote, “My childhood baseball memories are full of Ozzie Smith vs. Sandberg, and Zimmer vs.Whitey Herzog.” I concur. I remember the San Francisco earthquake, more so because it happened during the ’89 World Series — a mere week (or so after) after the Giants defeated the Cubs in the NLCS.

It was that year of baseball, 1989, and that manager who drew me into the game. It was the magic of watching a down on their luck team rising through the ranks. It was watching a team, largely composed of fresh faces, being led to the top even though they were underdogs. Does this sound familiar, Rays fans? It should.

Like many, Zimmer meant the world to me, and he will never be forgotten. Here’s to you, Zim. May you rest in peace with all the baseball gods who came before.

Noteworthiness

  • The Rays will honor Zimmer with a moment of silence prior to the game today, and will conduct a special pre-game ceremony Saturday.
  • Your tweets of the day:

  • Manager Joe Maddon and other Rays reflect on the passing of Don Zimmer, who died in a Dunedin hospital Wednesday at age 83, Video and photo gallery by Will Vragovic, Marc Topkin, and the Tampa Bay Times.

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