There’s less than an hour left in 12/12/12, the last repeating date that I’m ever going to see (and you are too, unless you live for a very long time). My thoughts turned to the Cubs, as they so often do, and people who wore number 12 in days gone by. I won’t write about Alfonso Soriano–the Cubs’ incumbent number 12–until after he’s gone. It can’t happen soon enough for me.
I have written about Dusty Baker (number 12 from 2003-2006), and the late Steve Macko (from 1979 until an ill-fated collision with Bill Madlock in 1980). There’s still Shawon Dunston, who wore the number for over a decade in the 1980s and 1990s, but I’ll take a pass on him for now. He’ll always be there, for when I need some pointless baseball topic in the future. Today, in the waning moments of the 12-pocalypse, I’m going about as far into the weeds of obscurity as possible and write about the Cub career of Rudy Meoli.
Rudy who? you might ask. And I’d have to agree with you on that. In 1978–the only year he was with the Cubs–I was ten years old, and baseball was about the most important thing that there was in my life back then.
Meoli played sparingly with the Cubs in 1978 (and ironically enough, he wore #12 for for the only time in his big league career.), and then with the Phillies in 1979, before his career as a ballplayer came to an end when he was cut by the San Francisco Giants in 1980. But as I always say, he saw more action in a single professional clubhouse, at any level, than I ever will. And for that I salute him.