Briggs: Emotional Leyland crushes Hall of Fame speech, 'from the sandlots of Perrysburg to ... Cooperstown'

COOPERSTOWN, N.Y. — “From the sandlots of Perrysburg, a jewel of a town in northwest Ohio to grow up in, to a … stage in Cooperstown … ”

On a perfect day in a perfect setting, that’s how Jim Leyland began the story of his baseball life Sunday in his Hall of Fame induction speech, and he could not have felt more blessed.

Or humbled.

OK, maybe that second part isn’t true.

Leyland flashed back to a conversation with his wife a couple weeks after his election to the Hall.

“I said, ‘Katie, can you believe in your wildest dreams that I’d be elected to the Hall of Fame?”

Katie replied: “Jim, you’re not in my wildest dreams.”

The crowd — tens of thousands strong and gathered as far as the eye could see on the lawn outside the Clark Sports Center — roared.

Beautiful.

You’re not supposed to root for teams in this business, but you can root for people, and Leyland’s walk into history here was hard not to savor.

Simply, the man was an ode to baseball, a take-no-crap good guy who spent 18 years in the minors — seven as a player — before setting foot in a major-league clubhouse, then became proof of the game’s meritocratic beauty as one of its greatest-ever managers.

His speech was classic Leyland, funny and heartfelt and tearful and about everyone but — as his plaque installed Sunday night reads — James Richard Leyland.

He thanked the fans and his coaches and his bosses (Mike Ilitch was “the most passionate owner I’ve ever been around) and, of course, all the hundreds of players he managed — in the bus leagues and in 22 years in the majors — from the superstars like Barry Bonds and Bobby Bonilla in Pittsburgh and Miguel Cabrera and Justin Verlander in Detroit to the September call-ups.

“I'm here today because of you,” Leyland said.

If he did talk about himself, it was only for the benefit of a laugh line.

Leyland remembered joining the Tigers’ organization shortly after graduating from Perrysburg High in 1962.

“The scout that signed me was named Herman Kander,” he said, “and I think he was fired 24 hours after that transaction was announced.”

Again, it was vintage Leyland.

But let the record be clear: This celebration was very much about Leyland, and the 79-year-old legend — a three-time manager of the year who led the Florida Marlins to a World Series title in 1997 and came so achingly close in Pittsburgh and Detroit — deserved every bit of it.

Those who picked apart his Cooperstown credentials noted the lone championship and modest career winning percentage (.506).

Still, if we’ve said it once, we’ve said it 1,769 times — or once for each of Leyland’s career wins: Context is everything.

Know who else has one ring? Bobby Cox, Leo Durocher, Whitey Herzog, and Earl Weaver, Hall of Famers all. Know who lost 217 more games than he won? Connie Mack.

Leyland’s win total ranks 18th all-time. A dozen of the managers ahead of him are in the Hall, and four more — Dusty Baker (2,183 wins), Bruce Bochy (2,093), Terry Francona (1,950), and Lou Piniella (1,835) — are safe bets to join them.

That leaves Gene Mauch (1,902), but his teams won at a .483 clip and never won a pennant.

I keep thinking of Leyland’s sign-off here, in which he painted a poignant picture of all that he loves about the game and its fans.

“I would like to say this to the fans … your presence is always felt,” he said. “[Whether it’s the crowd standing] in the ninth with the home team clinging to a one-run lead, turning on your television for the first game of the World Series and seeing 50,000 fans waving towels hoping and praying that this may be their year, or a little boy or girl getting their first autograph and scurrying back to the stands to show mom and dad their latest treasure … ladies and gentlemen, that's you.

“That's baseball.”

So is Leyland.

And now the game’s most hallowed ground is better for it.