`A GLUE GUY'
Heyward's impact as a leader for Dodgers on field, in clubhouse has not gone unnoticed
It will go down in baseball history, a pivotal moment in the generational story of the Chicago Cubs' curse-busting victory in the 2016 World Series. The Speech.
The Cubs had blown a threerun lead in the late innings of Game 7. Extra innings loomed with momentum and 108 years of championship-less history lined up against the Cubs. An expensive free agent who had not lived up to his salary in his first season with the Cubs, Jason Heyward didn't like what he saw. He called for the entire team — players only — to gather in a weight room.
Tears were shed. Nerves were calmed. History was reversed. The rain delay only lasted 17 minutes but the Cubs emerged to win the game in the 10th inning, earning the franchise's first championship since 1908.
“I felt like it was important to put everyone on the same page again with the common perspectives we'd been sharing since spring training,” Heyward said of the moment.
“I just felt like for the first time all year we were all kind of deep in thought. I didn't think that needed to be where our headspace was. If we were going to think about anything, we do it together, we do it outwardly, we have fun with it . ... We just had fun with embracing the good or the bad, the tough or the easy times. I just felt that's what we needed to do right there.”
Heyward recognizes the impact that World Series title had on so many — fans posted photos to social media visiting the graves of family members who hadn't lived to see the Cubs as champions. But he doesn't inflate the importance of his place in the story.
“I don't by any means think anything light of it, right? But I do always know and keep it real for myself and anyone that asks that I wasn't doing it to be
remembered,” he said. “I just wanted that group to remember who we were and see that in us.”
James Outman was a 19-year-old freshman at Sacramento State when Heyward gave “The Speech” and didn't hear about the moment until he saw it recapped on a stadium scoreboard during this season. By then, he already knew about Heyward's leadership abilities firsthand.
“He's just been a great mentor to me. Kind of ever since spring training, he's always trying to help me get better,” said Outman, who was actually competing for the same outfield reserve role as Heyward this spring until Gavin Lux's injury shuffled the roster and made room for both of them. “I think that speaks a lot to his character, especially considering there were only so many outfield spots and stuff like that. He kind of took me under his wing right away. He's just been a steady mentor for me.”
The day after Dodgers manager Dave Roberts said Outman had made the Opening Day roster this spring, the rookie outfielder found a black leather Bottega Veneta bag in his locker, an expensive gift from Heyward — the kind of support that has helped Outman blossom into the Dodgers' every-day center fielder (a position that was very much a question mark heading into this season).
Heyward, 34, had a gift for everyone on the team on Opening Day, bottles of wine (a 2020 vintage cabernet sauvignon from Caymus Vineyards in Napa Valley).
Heyward is not alone among the veterans on this year's Dodgers team in reaching into their wallets. Checks have been picked up — “the most team dinners I've ever been a part of has been this year,” Freddie Freeman said. During the season-ending series in San Francisco last weekend, Miguel Rojas took the rookies on the team to a sneaker store — he is a collector with hundreds of pairs — where he bought each of them a pair of Jordans.
But Heyward has been “a glue guy” as Max Muncy put it, exactly the clubhouse impact Freeman had in mind when he started lobbying Andrew Friedman to sign his friend as a free agent this winter.
“It's just natural to him. He's not even trying to be the guy. It just happens. And it happens wherever he's been,” said Freeman, who has been friends with Heyward since the pair were teenagers on the travel ball circuit. “You talk to the Cardinals, the Braves, the Cubs — everyone just loves Jason Heyward. He's never been the guy, `I'm going to stand up and do this.' It just naturally happens. People gravitate towards him. That's why I fought so hard for him to get here.”
The respect Heyward has earned in the Dodgers clubhouse was evident when he was voted this year's Roy Campanella Award winner. The award is voted on by the team's players and coaches and goes to the player who exemplifies “the spirit and leadership” of Campanella.
“He's such a great guy. He's so positive. He's always there picking everybody up. That's what he's best at,” Muncy said. “He's always doing it on an everyday basis. He's never wavered from who he was. That speaks to his character. He's been a special guy to be around. I feel like he's made everyone in the clubhouse better — not just better teammates but better people, too.”
Heyward acknowledges that this season has been a balancing act for him. An everyday player throughout his career, he has accepted a platoon role with the Dodgers as a way to rehabilitate his career after the Cubs cut him loose last season.
He needed to “be selfish” in order to rediscover his own game. But Roberts points to the Dodgers' July series in Baltimore as an example of just how unselfish Heyward has been.
Heyward started against Orioles right-hander Tyler Wells and hit a three-run home run in his first at-bat. It was his only at-bat. Roberts pulled Heyward when the Orioles brought in a lefthanded reliever. Not a grumble was heard from Heyward, the Dodgers manager said.
“The quote-unquote recognition for that comes from your peers. That's about how a group looks at you and things they feel they can rely on,” Heyward said of his reputation as a clubhouse leader and first-rate teammate. “First and foremost, I've been on a lot of winning baseball teams. That's what I know. So I feel like when you win, you really buy into positivity and the little things that you see that matter. You find out that works.”
It is also the kind of reputation that could lead to a post-playing career in the game, perhaps as a manager. The sculpted 6-foot-5, 240-pound Heyward — he dressed (or undressed) as fictional boxer Adonis Creed on the Dodgers' costume day last week — certainly has a powerful presence.
“He would be an amazing manager — if he wanted to. I just don't know,” Freeman said, joking that Heyward might just take off for Montenegro where his wife has roots. “He has every quality you'd want. He'll be able to do whatever he wants to do in this game because of how he's conducted himself over his career and the person he is. They'll want him around.”
Heyward, enjoying his best offensive seasons in years (.269 average, 15 home runs, .813 OPS), said he hasn't given that much thought yet. Family will take primacy when he is done playing, he said.
“Maybe he'll ask me to be his bench coach,” Freeman said with a laugh.