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Okay, now I'm really in love with Morgan Ensberg. What an amazing guy. Brave, unselfish, polite, kind . . . all that and he can play baseball too. So in love.
Check that article out, even if you don't give two shits about the Astros. It's quite a story.
Edited June 27, '06: For my benefit, I've added the text like a year later just in case this article disappears from the Chronicle's website. This is still one of the most remarkable articles I've ever read.
Morgan Ensberg didn't want to make it easy for them to kill him. He wanted them to know they were about to shoot a living, breathing human being.
Not that he figured it would make a difference. He'd prepared himself to die that night. He'd said a final prayer. He recites it without an ounce of emotion.
I don't like that you're putting me through this. I don't know why you're putting me through this. I would think you can do something else. But if this is your will, if this is what you want, then let's go. Bring it.
He and five minor-league teammates had been tied up by two gun-toting men that spring night five years ago at a nondescript hotel near the Astros' spring complex in Kissimmee, Fla.
Life-changing experience
As the men ransacked the rooms looking for valuables, Ensberg and the others lay on beds and floors with blankets covering their heads.
"They were going to shoot us," Ensberg said.
That's when he began inching out from under the blanket. He wanted the men to see the top of his head.
He wanted them to understand what they were going to do.
"I wanted them to know they weren't shooting blankets," he said.
The night abruptly ended when a player in an adjoining room freed himself and phoned 911. One of the robbers escaped. The other was shot during a struggle with police.
Ensberg knows that nothing that happens to him, nothing he ever does, might impact him more dramatically than those two hours.
"I think about it every single day," Ensberg said. "I had a gun at the back of my head. That's not something you forget."
He was changed in ways he's still trying to understand. He's less trustful of people. He's more protective of his family. He's extra careful about things such as home security.
"It really stinks to be this way," he said.
Unique perspective
That night has provided a backdrop for everything that has happened since. That night is one reason Ensberg doesn't throw his helmet or slam his bat into walls. That night is why he has a perspective most others don't have.
"Baseball," he said, "is nothing compared to something like that."
He has been the National League's best third baseman this season. But unless he replaces an injured player — the Dodgers' Cesar Izturis went on the disabled list Tuesday, and there are already two other shortstops — Ensberg won't be a member of the NL All-Star team next week in Detroit.
When reporters have come to him looking for even a touch of anger, they've been disappointed. He has heaped praise on NL starter Scott Rolen and said he's happy to be considered for the team.
"I wasn't blindsided by the selection process," he said. "I know the rules."
The rules are simple. Fans picked Rolen to start the game at third base. Players and managers picked Aramis Ramirez to be his backup.
Besides, it's not that simple. This season has been so satisfying in so many ways more important than one All-Star Game. This season Ensberg finally has proved himself.
A long road
He said it wasn't until early May that he finally felt comfortable that he belonged in the big leagues.
His road has been a long one. He's one of those guys who has always paid an extra price, who has always been forced to prove he belonged.
"I've always been counted out," Ensberg said. "I've always had people believe I didn't belong. I think that has made me work maybe a little harder."
He was better known as a basketball star at Redondo Union High School in the Los Angeles suburbs.
"To this day, I have friends who think I'm a better basketball player," he said. "Well, I may have changed some minds this season."
He didn't get a single Division I scholarship offer in baseball or basketball. The Seattle Mariners did see a flash of potential. They took him in the 61st round but didn't offer a contract.
Ensberg walked on at Southern California and eventually earned a scholarship. When he was draft eligible as a junior, all 30 teams passed.
The Astros did take a ninth-round flier on him after his senior season (1998). That's not usually where future All-Stars are selected. Even Ensberg wasn't all that confident.
"I gave myself four years, and then I was going to go get a job," he said.
He started his fifth pro season in the big leagues. After 49 games, he was sent back to the minors. He was back for good in 2003, when he hit 25 home runs and pretty much convinced the Astros they had filled the position for good.
Then came last season.
Ensberg hit .192 in April. He went 203 at-bats without a home run and finished with 10.
Not one for alibis
What he refused to tell anyone is that he played with a bonfire in his right elbow. Until this spring when he told manager Phil Garner, he offered no alibis, accepted the criticism without complaint, and did the best he could with what he had.
"That shows me something," Garner said. "That shows you he's pretty tough. Even last year when he was hurt, he got some big hits down the stretch for us. When (Lance) Berkman and (Jeff) Kent were pitched around, he drove in some huge runs."
Ensberg has been the Astros' most valuable offensive player this season. With no Carlos Beltran or Kent, with Jeff Bagwell injured and Berkman missing the opening month, the Astros have been desperate for power.
They're still the lowest-scoring offense in the National League, but without Ensberg's 22 home runs and 60 RBIs, they'd be buried.
"We'd be in last place," Garner said.
They're 25-12 since a 15-30 start and have crept into position to make their sixth postseason trip in nine years.
As the mantle of leadership and production has shifted to the younger players, as they've become more comfortable by the day, the Astros are being transformed behind a new generation of players.
Ensberg is at the center of this new generation. He seems comfortable with the added responsibility.
People assume that leadership comes with speeches or tantrums. Leadership typically is by example.
The perfect response
Ensberg showed that kind of leadership last weekend in Cincinnati. When Reds pitcher Luke Hudson decked him with a pitch to his head, Ensberg got up, dusted himself off and hit the next pitch out of the park.
"That tells you he's not afraid," Garner said. "And he reacted like (Craig) Biggio and Bagwell would. He tossed the bat down and rounded the bases."
The Astros intend to make Ensberg one of the faces of the franchise. He's a Christian, a teetotaler who is unashamed to speak of prayer and faith.
When he was going so badly last season, he admitted he was waking at night with panic attacks.
"I finally did the only thing I could do," he said. "I prayed."
He's articulate, unfailingly polite and pretty much a role model for what every professional athlete should be.
Attitude of gratitude
Last season a guy with the Rockets asked me what Ensberg was like. I shrugged and told him he was fine.
"I got him tickets to a game last week," he said. "Most guys act like they're doing you a favor by taking the tickets. Morgan sent me a handwritten note thanking me for them."
Some have interpreted a soft personality as being a soft player. He's not.
"What you're seeing now is what I think is normal for him," Astros hitting coach Gary Gaetti said. "He has the kind of power you've seen this year. Sometimes it doesn't come through until you start believing it. Morgan believes."
He's making all of us believe. No All-Star Game is going to change that.
Check that article out, even if you don't give two shits about the Astros. It's quite a story.
Edited June 27, '06: For my benefit, I've added the text like a year later just in case this article disappears from the Chronicle's website. This is still one of the most remarkable articles I've ever read.
Morgan Ensberg didn't want to make it easy for them to kill him. He wanted them to know they were about to shoot a living, breathing human being.
Not that he figured it would make a difference. He'd prepared himself to die that night. He'd said a final prayer. He recites it without an ounce of emotion.
I don't like that you're putting me through this. I don't know why you're putting me through this. I would think you can do something else. But if this is your will, if this is what you want, then let's go. Bring it.
He and five minor-league teammates had been tied up by two gun-toting men that spring night five years ago at a nondescript hotel near the Astros' spring complex in Kissimmee, Fla.
Life-changing experience
As the men ransacked the rooms looking for valuables, Ensberg and the others lay on beds and floors with blankets covering their heads.
"They were going to shoot us," Ensberg said.
That's when he began inching out from under the blanket. He wanted the men to see the top of his head.
He wanted them to understand what they were going to do.
"I wanted them to know they weren't shooting blankets," he said.
The night abruptly ended when a player in an adjoining room freed himself and phoned 911. One of the robbers escaped. The other was shot during a struggle with police.
Ensberg knows that nothing that happens to him, nothing he ever does, might impact him more dramatically than those two hours.
"I think about it every single day," Ensberg said. "I had a gun at the back of my head. That's not something you forget."
He was changed in ways he's still trying to understand. He's less trustful of people. He's more protective of his family. He's extra careful about things such as home security.
"It really stinks to be this way," he said.
Unique perspective
That night has provided a backdrop for everything that has happened since. That night is one reason Ensberg doesn't throw his helmet or slam his bat into walls. That night is why he has a perspective most others don't have.
"Baseball," he said, "is nothing compared to something like that."
He has been the National League's best third baseman this season. But unless he replaces an injured player — the Dodgers' Cesar Izturis went on the disabled list Tuesday, and there are already two other shortstops — Ensberg won't be a member of the NL All-Star team next week in Detroit.
When reporters have come to him looking for even a touch of anger, they've been disappointed. He has heaped praise on NL starter Scott Rolen and said he's happy to be considered for the team.
"I wasn't blindsided by the selection process," he said. "I know the rules."
The rules are simple. Fans picked Rolen to start the game at third base. Players and managers picked Aramis Ramirez to be his backup.
Besides, it's not that simple. This season has been so satisfying in so many ways more important than one All-Star Game. This season Ensberg finally has proved himself.
A long road
He said it wasn't until early May that he finally felt comfortable that he belonged in the big leagues.
His road has been a long one. He's one of those guys who has always paid an extra price, who has always been forced to prove he belonged.
"I've always been counted out," Ensberg said. "I've always had people believe I didn't belong. I think that has made me work maybe a little harder."
He was better known as a basketball star at Redondo Union High School in the Los Angeles suburbs.
"To this day, I have friends who think I'm a better basketball player," he said. "Well, I may have changed some minds this season."
He didn't get a single Division I scholarship offer in baseball or basketball. The Seattle Mariners did see a flash of potential. They took him in the 61st round but didn't offer a contract.
Ensberg walked on at Southern California and eventually earned a scholarship. When he was draft eligible as a junior, all 30 teams passed.
The Astros did take a ninth-round flier on him after his senior season (1998). That's not usually where future All-Stars are selected. Even Ensberg wasn't all that confident.
"I gave myself four years, and then I was going to go get a job," he said.
He started his fifth pro season in the big leagues. After 49 games, he was sent back to the minors. He was back for good in 2003, when he hit 25 home runs and pretty much convinced the Astros they had filled the position for good.
Then came last season.
Ensberg hit .192 in April. He went 203 at-bats without a home run and finished with 10.
Not one for alibis
What he refused to tell anyone is that he played with a bonfire in his right elbow. Until this spring when he told manager Phil Garner, he offered no alibis, accepted the criticism without complaint, and did the best he could with what he had.
"That shows me something," Garner said. "That shows you he's pretty tough. Even last year when he was hurt, he got some big hits down the stretch for us. When (Lance) Berkman and (Jeff) Kent were pitched around, he drove in some huge runs."
Ensberg has been the Astros' most valuable offensive player this season. With no Carlos Beltran or Kent, with Jeff Bagwell injured and Berkman missing the opening month, the Astros have been desperate for power.
They're still the lowest-scoring offense in the National League, but without Ensberg's 22 home runs and 60 RBIs, they'd be buried.
"We'd be in last place," Garner said.
They're 25-12 since a 15-30 start and have crept into position to make their sixth postseason trip in nine years.
As the mantle of leadership and production has shifted to the younger players, as they've become more comfortable by the day, the Astros are being transformed behind a new generation of players.
Ensberg is at the center of this new generation. He seems comfortable with the added responsibility.
People assume that leadership comes with speeches or tantrums. Leadership typically is by example.
The perfect response
Ensberg showed that kind of leadership last weekend in Cincinnati. When Reds pitcher Luke Hudson decked him with a pitch to his head, Ensberg got up, dusted himself off and hit the next pitch out of the park.
"That tells you he's not afraid," Garner said. "And he reacted like (Craig) Biggio and Bagwell would. He tossed the bat down and rounded the bases."
The Astros intend to make Ensberg one of the faces of the franchise. He's a Christian, a teetotaler who is unashamed to speak of prayer and faith.
When he was going so badly last season, he admitted he was waking at night with panic attacks.
"I finally did the only thing I could do," he said. "I prayed."
He's articulate, unfailingly polite and pretty much a role model for what every professional athlete should be.
Attitude of gratitude
Last season a guy with the Rockets asked me what Ensberg was like. I shrugged and told him he was fine.
"I got him tickets to a game last week," he said. "Most guys act like they're doing you a favor by taking the tickets. Morgan sent me a handwritten note thanking me for them."
Some have interpreted a soft personality as being a soft player. He's not.
"What you're seeing now is what I think is normal for him," Astros hitting coach Gary Gaetti said. "He has the kind of power you've seen this year. Sometimes it doesn't come through until you start believing it. Morgan believes."
He's making all of us believe. No All-Star Game is going to change that.
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Thanks for sharing that article.
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Crap. Why did the Rangers have to hit a homerun as I typed this?
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And as I typed that, Guillen threw out Aaron Boone from short sitting on his butt 'cos he fell over catching the ball. Awesome.
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*cough* Yeah, so, I'll pass, thanks.
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