g-hawg - great post for debate and you started with a no-name for most. Ernie Davis would fall into my top 10 list because of his unlimited potential. My top 3 would be:
3) Bo Jackson- There have been others -- from Jim Thorpe to Deion Sanders. But even now, almost a decade after he played his last football game and six years since his last baseball game, Bo Jackson is still considered by many to be "the man" among multi-sport athletes.He never played for a world champion, but the 6-foot-1, 225-pound Jackson was the first athlete named to play in the all-star game of two major sports. Not bad for a guy who won a Heisman Trophy and became a 1998 College Football Hall of Fame inductee in a sport he described as his "hobby."
2) Jim Brown - He averaged 104 yards a game, a record 5.22 yards a pop. He ran for at least 100 yards in 58 of his 118 regular-season games (he never missed a game). He ran for 237 yards in a game twice, scored five touchdowns in another game, and four times scored four touchdowns. He rushed for more than 1,000 yards seven times, scorching opponents for 1,527 yards in one 12-game season and 1,863 in a 14-game season.
Unlike most athletes, Brown retired when he was on top. At 30, he decided he'd rather be in movies than star on a football field. When he did leave the game before the 1966 season, no player had ever ran for as many yards (12,312) or scored more touchdowns (126) or rushing touchdowns (106).
1) Lou Geherig - (I apologize for the length but it is a great piece on a true sports legend)
Irony, as we know, is part of life. And death. Is there a better word to use regarding Lou Gehrig?
Think of his nickname: "The Iron Horse." It implies endurance. It recalls an indestructible man, one who never called in sick for almost 14 years -- 2,130 consecutive games, as if we could ever forget that number?
And yet, at age 35, in what should be the prime of his life, the New York Yankees first baseman contracts an incurable disease. Two years later, at 37, The Iron Horse is dead.
Is it his 493 homers, his 1,990 runs batted in, his .340 batting average, his American League record 184 RBI in one year, his major league record 23 grand slams? Is it his 13 consecutive seasons with 100 RBI and 100 runs scored, his 200 hits and 100 walks in the same season seven times, his two MVPs, his Triple Crown? Is it his 12 consecutive seasons of hitting .300, his 10 seasons of at least 30 homers, his averaging 153 RBI over an 11-year stretch, his .632 lifetime slugging percentage?
None of the above. Besides the streak, what we remember most about Gehrig is nothing that he accomplished with a bat. What we remember most about this quiet man of dignity is a speech. How ironic.
It's July 4, 1939, Lou Gehrig Appreciation Day at Yankee Stadium, a little more than two months after he played his final game, less than a month after he had learned he had amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. There is Gehrig, surrounded by his teammates from the 1927 and 1939 Yankees, taking his cut at the microphone.
Shaken with emotion, he fights back tears as he keeps his eyes focused on the ground. For a moment it looks as if Gehrig won't make it to the plate. But manager Joe McCarthy whispers a few words to his favorite player, and Gehrig regains his composure. In a moment later captured by the Hollywood film "The Pride of the Yankees" starring Gary Cooper, Gehrig delivers an emotional farewell address, speaking slowly and stressing the appreciation he feels for all that is being done for him.
"For the past two weeks you have been reading about the bad break I got," he says. "Yet today I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth."
There aren't many dry eyes in the place when Gehrig concludes. The 61,808 fans and his former teammates know they have been touched in a way they might never be again. After the tumult and shouting and crying end, and the second game of the doubleheader is finished, Gehrig walks out of Yankee Stadium with catcher Bill Dickey. With confidence in his voice, he tells his close friend, "Bill, I'm going to remember this day for a long time."
It is ironic that it took the prospect of death to take Gehrig from out of the shadows. Almost his entire career was played in the background of another Yankee star, not that Gehrig minded. The first shadow belonged to Babe Ruth, Gehrig's idol who was dominating the sport when the young lefthanded slugger entered the scene.
"It's a pretty big shadow," Gehrig said. "It gives me lots of room to spread myself. . . . Let's face it, I'm not a headline guy. I always knew that as long as I was following Babe to the plate I could have gone up there and stood on my head. No one would have noticed the difference. When the Babe was through swinging, whether he hit one or fanned, nobody paid any attention to the next hitter. They were all talking about what the Babe had done."
Gehrig never left that shadow. Only after Babe's career was winding down did Gehrig win a home-run title by himself, with his 49 in 1934.
Lou Gehrig had a .340 lifetime batting average.
(He shared the crown with Ruth in 1931 when each hit 46.) And when he won another home-run title two years later, also with 49, Babe was retired as a player.
Another shadow: When Gehrig batted .545 in the 1928 World Series, Ruth hit .625.
The gregarious Ruth and reticent Gehrig, numbers 1 and 2 in your heart and 3 and 4 in the lineup, had been good friends early in Gehrig's career. But they split over a comment made by Gehrig's mother about Ruth's wife. For years the Bambino and The Iron Horse didn't talk to each other - until Lou Gehrig Day, when they embraced again like best friends.
On June 19, on his 36th birthday, Gehrig left the Mayo Clinic with a sealed envelope. The results of the examination revealed he had ALS, which in lay terms is a form of infantile paralysis. The illness is now referred to as Lou Gehrig's disease. "Mr. Gehrig will be unable to continue his active participation as a baseball player," the report concluded.
That December, Gehrig, who had remained with the Yankees as the team captain, was elected to the Hall of Fame. Only two players - Hank Aaron (2,297) and Ruth (2,211) - would ever drive in more runs than Gehrig.
The Pride of the Yankees died at his home in Riverdale, N.Y., on June 2, 1941, exactly 16 years to the day that he replaced Pipp at first base.
How ironic.