A lovely reminiscence from former Cubs outfielder Doug Glanville on how Ryne Sandberg’s “quiet confidence” during a minor league rehab stint subtly shaped his big league career:

But for me, I focused on something more personal. He was calm, intentional. He looked casual on the outside, but he cared. He was competitive, and he led by example, without having to say anything. No speeches, just a line or two of advice in private that carried more weight than a locker room address.

It gave me the freedom to challenge the labels I had been given, realizing that maybe those who assign labels are actually the lazy ones. Too impatient to take the time to really understand and get to know a player. Sure, it is important to listen and accept feedback, but I have always found it a stretch to accuse someone of not caring. Especially if the accusation is based solely on volume.

The following year, I made the 40-man MLB roster for spring training in Arizona. Fortunately, the Cubs put my locker next to Sandberg’s. I had a front-row seat to his routine. And long before I fully understood his work ethic, I took comfort in knowing you can be true to yourself and still add value to your team, and to your own performance.

Published a month ago, but made painfully poignant following Ryno’s passing.