We use these daily posts to revisit the biographies of Yankees past, from the stars that delivered 27 World Series titles or those that have been nearly forgotten to history. Today we celebrate a player that everyone should be familiar with, the Captain that took over the mantle from Don Mattingly and led the club into a new dynasty. I’m not sure there’s anything I could write that would add to the collective biography of Derek Jeter, so instead I’ll write about how, in so many ways, he is a cornerstone of the way I experience baseball.
Derek Sanderson Jeter
Born: June 26, 1974 (Pequannock, NJ)
Yankees Tenure: 1995-2014
When you’re a kid, there are much worse role models to have than Jeter. That quote about no excuses for anyone to work harder than you must have been repeated by every single coach I had until high school — even though, when you think about it saying it to an entire team doesn’t make sense, cuz we can’t all work harder than each other. Perhaps observations like this are why I never really went anywhere in sports.
But the hustle was such a part of the Jeter narrative, that he was always just there. There’s a reason The Flip, that inconceivable out from the 2001 ALDS, is still my favorite baseball play ever:
This should never have happened. There is no reason for Jeter to be in the neighborhood where intercepting that ball is possible. But he did it, because he’s always there. Derek Jeter was the most consistent, in a sport where that’s the hardest thing in the world to find. Every year of my childhood, for whatever a nebulous timeframe that is, Jeter hit .310 from the same spot in the lineup. And yes, I just used batting average.
I used batting average because in the early-to-mid 2000s, the summers of my childhood that’s what we had to gauge players. Around the game, Brian Cashman and Theo Epstein and Billy Beane were starting to look at new, undeveloped ways of evaluating players, but the Toronto Sun was still primarily concerned with the classic Triple Crown stats.
I remember running home from my very first job after clocking out (Swiss Chalet, morning potato peeler and cutter) because Jeter was sitting on 2,998 when I started my shift, only for my dad to text me that 2,999 came in the first inning. And of course he hit a home run for 3,000, because he’s Derek Jeter:
The first time I heard of WAR was in 2010, in a Sports Illustrated article outlining the stat and why Ben Zobrist was the second-best player in the game. I was 16 by then, I knew Jeter wasn’t number one at that point — and yet, one of the things that sold me on WAR in the first place was it was pretty bang on about how good he was. Albert Pujols was the best player in baseball and maybe I could see the value of Zobrist, but Jeter had a great 2009, finishing sixth that season with 6.7 fWAR. Ok, WAR makes some sense because yeah, Jeter was a top 10 player last season and the stat reflects that.
Of course the other elements of WAR would be less kind to the Captain. That article opened a lot of doors for me in terms of how I see baseball and what I find valuable, and what I found tied with Jeter’s inevitable decline had me in that “Jeter is incredibly overrated” internet camp that existed for a while, and presumably still does even in smaller numbers. The defense was not good, the way he seemed entrenched in the leadoff spot even as the OPS — I had a good handle on that one by now — was slipping into the .700s after a career in the .800s or better.
By that point I’m a teenager anyway, and the Class and Grace gimmick that Jeter was so known for was just less appealing. The cool ease with which Robinson Canó could drive a ball off the right-center wall or the sheer dash that Mike Trout brought in my second-favorite rookie season of all time was just more of what I wanted. The sequential retirement tours Jeter and Mariano Rivera took alternated between annoying me and leaving me with some of my favorite memories of baseball:
And then before you knew it Jeter was gone, and the Yankees had to figure out how to move on on the field, and if you remember, the off-the-field relationship wasn’t very good either. The golden boy image was at least a little bit tarnished, and Jeter went off to Miami. At the same time I’m in college, living on my own, figuring out all those little things that you have to if you want to wear clean clothes and have a functioning bathroom.
I started writing here, free and clear in the post-Jeter era while he was funking around trying to run the Marlins, and the Yankees found an immediate replacement for the face of the franchise role in Aaron Judge, a man I have written about more than anyone else. We all just, kinda stopped thinking about Derek Jeter outside of career highlights or the befuddling decisions he made in South Beach (thanks again for Stanton, Cap).
Of course he goes into the Hall of Fame one vote shy of unanimity, he liquidates his holdings in the Marlins, and he seems to patch up enough of the sore spots he had with the Yankees that he’s been re-embraced. I’m a little bit older, hopefully a small bit wiser and for all the love I have for baseball it’s no longer the most important thing in the world to me the way it was when I was eight. They are finally developing stats that are getting hard for ME to follow:
And yet I too have re-embraced Derek Jeter.
Yes, his defense could be terrible and the Yankees likely left runs on the table by not having Alex Rodriguez play shortstop after the trade. I think the strong silent stuff that he still tries to keep up on MLB on FOX in the postseason broadcasts is pretty silly. The Jump Throw was overused.
He is also unequivocally one of the finest baseball players I, you, or anyone else that has watched a game in the last half century have seen play. Nine seasons as a full-time, every day MLB shortstop while managing a 125 wRC+ is absurd. I wasn’t even a baseball fan until the year 2000 and I still get mad about the 1999 AL MVP voting. While “name the only Canadians to win an MLB MVP Award” is a great trivia question that has delivered me wins before, the 2006 award probably should have gone to Jeets, too.
I’m less interested and thus less involved in shouting at people over the Internet, which is where about 90 percent of How Good Was Derek Jeter discourse happens so I no longer have to be a part of that. Lastly, it just doesn’t matter to me whether Jeter was the sixth or the eighth or the 11th best player of an era. He was damn good.
A couple years ago we re-visited the Top 100 Yankees series, a project I loved very much. I still think my profile of Thurmon Munson might just be the best thing I’ve ever written here. Towards the end of that series we ruffled some people’s feathers by having Mickey Mantle supplant Lou Gehrig for second place, and I think there’s been some very intelligent pushback to the legacy of Joe DiMaggio that has annoyed some of the… shall we call them veterans of observing baseball. What I learned from all this is that the stack-ranking doesn’t matter. Certainly not for this team, for this franchise.
What matters is your cluster. That Mickey Mantle can be mentioned in the same cluster with the Iron Horse is what matters, that Jeter is usually the first guy mentioned after the guys shot in black and white matters.
Happy birthday, Cap.
See more of the “Yankees Birthday of the Day” series here.