Thome definitely has his swing back
Editor's note: This is an expanded version of a story that appears in the latest edition of ESPN The Magazine.
The champs staged Jim Thome's "homecoming" the day after Thanksgiving weekend, right there at U.S. Cellular Field. It was all so warm, so fuzzy, so downright all-American, there should have been a marching band playing in the back of the room.
At one end of the podium, White Sox assistant GM Rick Hahn helped recreate a scene we've witnessed about 1.6 billion times before, holding up a White Sox jersey with "THOME" on its back and smiling for the popping flashbulbs.
Jim Thome
Otto Greule Jr/Getty Images
Jim Thome is tied for the AL lead with 21 RBI and is tied for second in home runs with nine.
But it was the words he spoke that still reverberate though baseball's best comeback story of 2006.
"It's a great honor to welcome Jim to Chicago," Hahn said, "and to welcome Jim home."
But the South Side wasn't really Thome's home, not then anyway. It was the North Side that tugged at Thome's soul growing up. He wasn't a guy who dreamed of hitting cleanup on West 35th Street. He dreamed of pumping homers onto Sheffield Avenue.
"People will say to me, 'Who was your favorite player?' " Thome says. "But to be honest, I didn't really have a favorite player. I just enjoyed the whole Wrigley thing, the whole Wrigley aura. As a kid, walking into Wrigley, that's the point when I think I got hooked on baseball."
But there were a few days -- special days -- when Thome's dad, Chuck, wrangled a day off from his job at Caterpillar so they could make the 130-mile drive in from Peoria, catch a game at Wrigley in the afternoon, then rush to a game beneath the light towers of Comiskey at night.
So there is still a place in their memory banks where the old Comiskey Park connects Jim Thome and his father. And now, across the street, where Thome finds himself hitting cleanup for the World Series champs, there is a whole new connection, more powerful than most people realize.
There's a reason the best start of Thome's career has a deeper meaning than career redemption. That reason is the bond between father and son. Less than a year and a half ago, Thome's mother, Joyce, died of cancer at age 68, a painful blow for one of baseball's tightest families.
"My dad, as we all did, went through an extremely tough time after we lost my mom," Thome says. "So what this has done, coming back to Chicago, is that it's really revitalized him. And that's a wonderful thing that baseball brings. As an older guy in the game, I see now how baseball has a great way of bringing families together."
But the Thome family's gain has also been the best thing to happen to the White Sox since they mopped up the champagne -- because Jim Thome has been an energizer and a unifier for this team, with his easy smile and daily thunderbolts.
He needed just 52 at-bats to blow by his home run total from all last season (seven -- in 193 at-bats). He became the first player in modern history to score a run in every one of his team's first 17 games. And he could take the rest of the month off and still finish with more homers (nine) and RBI (21) than he has piled up in any April of his career.
"I've really, really enjoyed all this," he says.
But six weeks ago, not even Uri Geller could have seen this eruption coming. On March 12, Thome's spring batting average was a scary .188. He'd hit zero homers. He'd driven in one run.
He seemed locked into many of the bad habits he'd picked up last year in Philadelphia, when his back was stiff and his elbow throbbed and he was cheating mightily trying to yank a ball inside the foul pole once in a while. Asked back then what kind of review he'd give Thome, one scout replied: "Terrible."
The next day, though, Thome played every inning of a game against Oakland, went 4 for 4 with a walk, and began 2006's most riveting U-Turn. From that day on, he hit a scorching .463 for the rest of the spring. But it actually wasn't until nearly two weeks after that game with the A's that he found the stroke that turned him into the NASA launching pad he has been for the last month.
The White Sox headed out of Tucson to Phoenix for a three-day road trip. Thome, however, took a different trip -- to the Sox's minor-league camp, where he was allowed to scarf up as many at-bats as he wanted.
The Year After
No World Series winner in history has ever added a player who hit 40 home runs the year after that title.
In fact, only 10 players (a total of 12 times) have ever hit 40 or more homers for a defending champ, even when you include players who were there the year before:
Year Team Player HRs
2005 Red Sox David Ortiz 47
2005 Red Sox M. Ramirez 45
1997 Yankees T. Martinez 44
1985 Tigers Darrell Evans 40
1977 Reds G. Foster 52
1956 Dodgers Duke Snider 43
1955 Giants Willie Mays 51
1946 Tigers H. Greenberg 44
1937 Yankees J. DiMaggio 46
1929 Yankees Babe Ruth 46
1928 Yankees Babe Ruth 54
1924 Yankees Babe Ruth 46
Source: Elias Sports Bureau
By Day 3, 20 at-bats later, he'd stumbled upon That Swing. And it hasn't been safe to be an American League pitcher ever since.
He crashed eight home runs in his final 28 spring at-bats. Which means that over the last four weeks, this man has smoked 17 homers in only 94 at-bats. That's one trot for every 5.53 at-bats, a rate that would get him to 60 by about the 4th of July.
And for a guy who left Philadelphia, silently steaming over the boos and the he's-all-done pronouncements from the short-attention-span geniuses, this rampage isn't merely another hot streak.
Jim Thome is proving something to the world. He's just cool enough not to ever feel the need to spout off on what it is.
The last thing Thome will ever be accused of is being a slop-stirrer. So he still finds upbeat things to say about Philadelphia. But his friends know how he really feels. From the day last July when he noticed the Phillies weren't exactly denying they were trying to trade him, he was a man who clearly knew it was time to move on.
"When he found out about the trade talk, I think that really hurt him," says his longtime friend and mentor, Phillies manager Charlie Manuel, "because I know him. I know what kind of guy he is. I think he felt like some people lost confidence in him. He'd never say anything about that at all. But it hurt him."
So when the season ended and it was obvious the Phillies weren't going to trade the rookie of the year (Ryan Howard) to keep a 35-year-old guy with back issues, Thome told the team he would waive his no-trade clause to go to only two places: Cleveland (because "that was really our home in the game") and Chicago ("because it was close to home, to where I grew up").
In a perfect world, naturally, it would have been the Cubs, not the White Sox, on Thome's list. But with some guy named Derrek Lee hanging out on the North Side, "I didn't think that would ever happen," he said, astutely.
So when the White Sox agreed to take on $24 million of Thome's $46 million I.O.U. for the next three years, and to give up Aaron Rowand and two pitching prospects, it was time for Thome to start rewriting the words to "Sweet Home Chicago."
When he left Cleveland for Philadelphia in 2003, he was the winter's No. 1 marquee free agent, marching in to try to rescue a fallen franchise. But this time, he was the one who had fallen. And this time, the best team in baseball was trying to rescue him.
"The way I looked at it," he says, "was: Here's a team that just won the World Series, and they added me -- who was hurt. And there's a part of that, within yourself, where you have that pride that hey, I don't want to let these guys down. They made a big move to get me, and they're trying to win again, and they want me to play a little bit of a part in that."
Or possibly an extremely large bit. No World Series champ in history has ever gone out that winter and picked up a player who came in and hit 40 home runs the next season. But the White Sox -- a franchise that has had one 45-homer man in team history (Albert Belle) -- had no assurance that that was the Jim Thome they were getting.
They also didn't know they'd just traded for a guy who would be leading their team in homers, RBI, runs scored, on-base percentage and slugging percentage nearly a month into the season.
But Thome has proven that all he needed was a little health -- and a grueling, daily, one-hour workout regiment to maintain it -- to morph back into his old 40-bomb-a-year self.
"I think I had something to prove -- to myself," he says. "When you have surgery, you always think, 'Will I ever be the same?' "
Well, now he knows he's the same player. But he's not the same guy.
"Baseball can be very humbling, and I had that experience a year ago," he says. "And that's the reason I'm having so much fun -- because I was hurt. And I understand now it's not going to last forever. So I'm going to cherish every time I step on the field, because you never know when it's going to end."
"Baseball can be very humbling, and I had that experience a year ago. And that's the reason I'm having so much fun -- because I was hurt. And I understand now it's not going to last forever. So I'm going to cherish every time I step on the field, because you never know when it's going to end."
-- Jim Thome
So now he takes a moment every night to gaze into the seats -- to catch a glimpse of his wife, his 3-year-old daughter, his sisters and brothers and old friends. And it means a little extra -- "especially when I look up and see my dad in the stands."
"My dad has always been a baseball guy," Jim Thome says. "He's always loved the game of baseball. And more than anything else, that's why it makes me so happy to be here."
This, Thome says, "is keeping him active. Now he has more than just fishing to keep him active. He can watch 150-something games on TV. Or he can get in his car and come to the game, and still get home that night."
Or, as he did during the last home stand, Chuck Thome can hitch a ride to the park with his buddies. Then, after a Wednesday day game, with an off day the next day, father and son can hop into Thome's car and take the 150-mile ride to Jim Thome's hunting lodge outside Peoria.
"That's the part that's really neat," says Thome, one of the few men in America who can utter a phrase like "really neat" and sound genuine. "Just to have that two-hour ride together and talk baseball. We never had that chance before."
But this, of course, is the perfect time and place. It's Jim Thome's second-chance season. And he's thankful for everything about it. ...
For the championship clubhouse that allowed him to fit right in. ... For the good health that has allowed him to enjoy being a baseball player again. ... And, most of all, for the special time this change of area code has delivered to his family's doormat.
Soon, it will be summer. And that will mean even more visits from more members of the Thome delegation: His father. His two brothers. His two sisters. All those nieces and nephews.
They'll all be descending on the Thome residence, "where we'll have some cookouts," Thome laughs. "Definitely."
And they'll be descending, too, on the suddenly pulsating ballpark on the South Side of Chicago. It isn't Wrigley. But it's now a place that's feeling more like home to Jim Thome every day.
Jayson Stark is a senior writer for ESPN.com.