During the final days of the 2007 Major League Baseball season, Maxim magazine asked if I would toss some pop-culture questions to the Philadelphia Phillies' Ryan Howard. Just over an hour before the Phillies would play in the final contest of their 162-game schedule, a possible division-clinching tilt, I strolled up to the National League's then-reigning MVP, whom I'd covered for three seasons as a Phillies beat reporter for the local online publication Metro, and asked if I could fire some questions. Howard, 28, was apparently expecting a query with high heat or the verbal equivalent of a low-and-away slider. The friendly behemoth failed to swing at my screwball: What were his pop-culture predictions for 2008?
"Man, you ambushed me with that," the towering Lafayette High alum said, in his typically good-natured manner. "I'm focusing on this game."
After giving the trivial matter some thought, Howard asked if I could return after the game for his response. "I need some time to think about it," he said. I had been slated to attend the game with my wife and three small children before I received the last-minute assignment, so I agreed to come back, but I was taken aback that Howard actually elected to ponder my silly questions during the biggest game of his life.
During the third inning, Phillies outfielder Shane Victorino hit a foul ball toward our 13th-row seats at third base. I stood up and boxed out three guys, who were pushing and shoving as the ball flew toward us. I made the grab, hoisted my toddler into the air and gave him the ball.
The Phillies went on to beat the Washington Nationals and win the NL East. I stopped by the clubhouse and was drenched with champagne and beer as I sought out Howard. My family watched on the Jumbotron as I approached Philly's favorite athlete. I tipped my cap to the hulking first baseman, who laughed. "You're congratulating me?" Howard said. "How about congratulations to you? I saw you catch that foul ball. That was impressive."
I told Howard, who had capped the regular season with his 47th homer, that there was no way he could have witnessed my defensive exploits. "I saw you make the catch, and then you picked up your kid," Howard said incredulously.
Howard offered his response to my pop-culture question amid the cacophony, but then he extended his hand and surprised me again. "We're going to storm the field and see the fans," he said. "How about we go out and try to find your kids?"
Surreal doesn't quite cover the experience. How could Howard, who had been standing on the other side of the field on the top step of the dugout, have possibly seen across the diamond and into the 13th row of the stands? Oh yeah, I forgot about his superhuman vision, which helps him distinguish a 94-mph fastball from an 83-mph slider. "You would be amazed what we see in the crowd," Howard said with a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin. No wonder Philadelphia loves Ryan Howard.
Winning over the ironically tagged "City of Brotherly Love" might be Howard's greatest accomplishment yet; the hardhearted, long-suffering sports town is reluctant to embrace its athletes but more than happy to pour unrelenting vitriol over various targets. Just ask former Cardinals Scott Rolen and J.D. Drew. Rolen had the audacity to question the Phillies' commitment to winning in 2002. His tirades reflected fans' disgust with the frustrating franchise, but that didn't matter, since Philly, which has gone a quarter of a century without winning a championship, is more than happy to eat its own. The much-hyped Drew avoided signing a contract after the Phillies selected him second overall in the 1997 baseball draft, instead going to play semipro ball in Minnesota for a year. Osama bin Laden is held in greater regard than Drew in the cradle of liberty. Rolen and Drew will be booed in perpetuity in Philadelphia.
However, the fact that Howard mixes 450-foot bombs with an infectious 200-watt smile has endeared him to Phillies fans like few others who have played for the only franchise in the history of sports to lose 10,000 games.
Just ask Phillies Hall of Famer Mike Schmidt, who is arguably the greatest third baseman in the history of the game. It's easy to see why the cold, blue-collar crowd never appreciated the aloof and analytical Schmidt. He never radiated the warmth that Howard generates daily. "Ryan is just a fun player to watch," Schmidt says. "He has so much power and talent, and he obviously enjoys the game."
Part of the reason Howard has earned the key to the city is the way he was raised. His father, Ron, who works in computers at IBM, and his mother, Cheryl, an accountant who handles Ryan's burgeoning bank account, had their priorities straight.
While coming of age, Howard and his siblings didn't just excel academically (fraternal twin Corey has an IT degree, older brother Chris is an attorney and older sister Roni is a social worker) and learn the finer points of sports. The Howard children also learned how to deal with people. Ryan is an anomaly in baseball, which is filled with athletes who were coddled ever since they exhibited special skills at a tender age. For many of Howard's peers, etiquette is superfluous. But that's not so for the gentle giant, who was a communications major at Southwest Missouri State University (now Missouri State) before departing as a junior for the minor leagues after the Phillies selected him in the fifth round of the 2001 draft.
Howard's six-figure salary in 2007 was tiny compensation for an MVP but a huge issue for the local media. During a media caravan stop in January 2007, journalists swarmed Howard, bombarding him with the same contract question ad nauseam. After being asked myriad ways over 10 solid minutes what he thought the Phillies should pay him, Howard said, "Wow, you guys are sure interested in my contract."
Another player would have been irritated the third time he was peppered with the same query. I was even annoyed by the interrogation, and I'm just a member of the motley Fourth Estate. But that's the way Howard is wired. If you're a scribe and you're asking the most ridiculous question, he'll respond. If you're a fan who wants a photo or a signature, Howard will comply unless under duress. If you're a neighbor and you're having some problems with your aluminum siding, odds are Howard will be there in a pinch to help with your home-improvement project.
It's actually not that surprising that the face of PlayStation's MLB Baseball '08: The Show makes time for the media (and when he isn't swarmed, the fans); that's the way he's always been. While terrorizing the minor leagues in 2004 by slamming 37 home runs, Howard was still an easygoing, accessible guy. After a game for the franchise's AA club in Reading, Pa., I watched Howard stroll up to an ice cream vendor, who chided the power hitter about his weight and encouraged him to stay away from his dairy product. The future star laughed and happily jawed with the help.
It's hard to imagine many of Howard's peers engaging in such banter with kids who earn minimum wage and have the nerve to poke at a potential superstar's expanding waistline. "I just enjoy people," Howard says. "I have fun with them. There's no reason to be rude."
Months after Howard won the Rookie of the Year award in 2005, I spent the afternoon with him at the Philadelphia Auto Show in February 2006. He posed, signed and joked with an adoring crowd after holding court during a Q&A session.
When he wasn't checking out the luxury rides ("This can't be Kobe's car," Howard said as he tried to slip his 6-4, 250-pound frame into NBA star Kobe Bryant's canary yellow Lamborghini), he was telling fans he was more than ready to follow up his ROY season. But he was also gracious with those who had no idea that he was emerging as the most feared basher in the game.
"Will you please fill this out so you can win a free vacation to Hawaii?" a pretty, petite girl in her late teens asked the linebacker-sized auto enthusiast as we strolled past her table. "No thank you," Howard said. "I can't right now."
It was quite a contrast from most of the show's attendees, who acted as if the frustrated marketing rep was transparent when she asked for their information.
Not much has changed since then. "People are usually surprised about how I am," Howard told me in March, at the Phillies' spring training facility in Clearwater, Fla., where after all his success you're still likely to see him hang out with friends or spend time scribbling his signature for fans. "I'm just the same person I was in high school. Anyone back home will tell you that. The only difference is that I'm older."
However, it's a different story between the lines. Howard, who possesses the most intimidating stance since John Dillinger, strides to the plate with bad intent and comes through with astounding results.
The numbers in his three-year Major League run are as staggering as some of the moon shots he's delivered over his clutch career. He drilled 58 homers and knocked in 149 during his sophomore season, to win the NL MVP. After struggling through April 2007 with a quad injury and sitting out much of May on the disabled list, Howard salvaged his third season with a remarkable 47 dingers and 136 RBIs — an off-season for him, but a career year for most other players.
His remarkable numbers have reverberated around the baseball world. No less an icon than New York Yankees' Hall of Famer Reggie Jackson, who was also a powerful left-handed hitter of some repute in his day, is astounded by Howard, who reached 100 home runs in fewer games, 325, than anyone in baseball history.
"I would trade my past for his future," Jackson said earlier this year during spring training at the New York Yankees complex in Tampa. "He's going to hit a lot of homers."
Jackson knows something about hitting home runs. He lofted 563 balls over the fence during his storied career.
The iconic Jackson isn't the only Yankee with a great deal of respect for Howard. Yankees freshman skipper Joe Girardi, who used to intentionally walk Howard during his lone year as Florida Marlins manager in 2006, is awestruck by the fearsome hitter: "Ryan Howard is a dangerous beast."
Folks still talk about the beastly 430-foot boomer Howard hit as a 12-year-old when he played for the Ellisville Little League team in the Ballwin Athletic Association. The soaring sphere easily cleared a 20-foot fence 295 feet from the plate and landed on top of a Red Lobster restaurant. "I remember that well," Howard says. "I just got all of it. My mom was all about it."
Cheryl Howard wasn't surprised by Ryan's considerable baseball aptitude. "I always thought he would be a pretty good athlete," she once told the Philadelphia Inquirer. "Even from when he was 2 years old, Ryan would watch television and swing his little plastic bat, and it was the way he did it, imitating. He was always so focused on the game on TV, always so determined. Some kids just get up there and swing, but he was really into it. Baseball was always his first love."
Howard realized that baseball was the pragmatic choice. "I liked playing basketball, football and soccer, but baseball was my best chance at getting a scholarship. In terms of athletics, I just felt my best shot was baseball."
Very astute choice at a young age. Howard's physical gifts have set him up for life. After months of debates in the local media as to how much Howard is worth, he took the Phillies to arbitration in February over a $3 million divide. The panel of judges sided with Howard and awarded him a $10 million salary for the 2008 season. "I'm just glad that's over with," Howard says. "I can just focus on baseball now."
Success hasn't ruined Howard, but will more money than he can spend in a few lifetimes turn the friendly, accommodating superstar into an aloof, egocentric performer who ventures off to his fortress of solitude each day?
Phillies catcher Chris Coste doesn't believe that his buddy will change one iota. "I can't see it happening," Coste says. "He's been a great guy since I've known him. I remember when I came up to the big leagues for the first time [in May 2006]. I'm a career minor leaguer, and he was Rookie of the Year and well on his way to being MVP. I know of him, but we've never met. I come in the clubhouse for the first time, and I hear, ‘Hey, Costey, how's it going, man?' He just made me feel at home, and he's still like that. He hasn't changed a bit, and I'm willing to bet that everything will stay the same."
I didn't need Coste to convince me that Howard is the same old guy. Within minutes of my walking into the locker room at the Phillies' spring training facility — the first time I'd seen Howard in more than four months — he recalled my catch in the stands during the aforementioned division-clinching game. "Very impressive, man," he said. "I remember that and seeing your kids."
Howard never forgets the kids.
When I commented on how well he'd been swinging the bat, the humble power source downplayed his killer stroke. "I'm not there yet," he said. "I'm still working on it."
Howard, who will return to Busch Stadium this month for a three-game stand, has had extraordinary success against the St. Louis Cardinals. He's hit .333 with three home runs and 14 RBIs in nine career games in St. Louis. "I just hit really well there," he says. "My family and friends are there. The Cardinal fans are really into it. It's exciting to go home."
As a child, Howard used to venture out to a couple of games each season at the old Busch Stadium with his father. "We didn't go a lot, but we did go a few times, and I really enjoyed it," Howard says. "I didn't have a favorite player, but I admired the whole team. I was a big fan of the Cardinals when I was growing up."
The Phillies own Howard's rights through the 2011 season. By then his baseball skills will yield enough money to perhaps offset the national deficit. Rumor has it that the Phillies offered Howard a contract in the Albert Pujols range of $100 million over seven years, but were rejected. "But it's not just about money," Howard says. "It's about winning a championship. I feel really good about my team."
It's hard to say what kind of a contract the Phillies slugger will be able to command in a few years, but what did he foresee last autumn when I asked him for his predictions for the future after the Phillies won the division title? "I see us getting a president that will unite us here in America," Howard said. "At least that's what I hope for."
He declined to offer any baseball prognostications. "All I can say is that I'll play as hard as possible and we'll see what happens," Howard said. "That's the way I played ever since I was a kid in St. Louis. There's no reason to stop now."
