He was known as the Mayor of Wrigley Field. These days, the amiable Hank Sauer can be found on the golf course near his northern California home. On the day he was interviewed, he proudly boasted that he had shot an 81. Not bad for an 82-year-old man. The big right-handed hitting outfielder didn’t do too poorly on the playing field either. He won the 1952 National League Most Valuable Player Award, batting .270 with 37 home runs and 121 runs batted in. That season, the Cubs were 77–77 and finished fifth under manager Phil Cavarretta. In midseason, Sauer shifted from left field, where he was showered with packets of chewing tobacco, to right field to make room for Ralph Kiner. Frankie Baumholtz was in center. They weren’t the fastest outfield, but they had a good time.

As far as I’m concerned, I was one way. I wanted to win. There was no other way I could play. We had a good year that year [1952]—actually, it wasn’t a good year. But I gave them 100 percent, and I did the best I could. Can I say that I carried that ballclub? No. There were so many good ballplayers on the ballclub who gave 100 percent, which is all you can do in the big leagues because you have to. If you don’t, you won’t last long.

I had a pretty good year in ’52. The only thing I can say is I thank God I was picked [for the MVP]. I can’t say nothing but the best about the other two guys, Robin Roberts and Joe Black. It was nice that I was picked ahead of them.

I went out there and the people in left field, they were such a sweet bunch. Every time we went out there, especially if I hit a home run, it rained chewing tobacco. I loved it. It kept me going, that chewing tobacco. The people in Chicago were absolutely super. I don’t chew now, but I did then and I enjoyed it. The only thing it ever did for me was that it relaxed me. I enjoyed the people for one simple reason—they threw it down there and I picked it up and I enjoyed it.

I chewed when I played golf. When I had to quit, it killed me. It was fun. Why I say it was fun, I can’t tell you the reason for it. It relaxed me, so it made me play better. I don’t think it happened to me alone. It happened to a lot of ballplayers. Relax, and go out to the ballpark, and enjoy what you’re doing.

There’s one thing I always remember: I asked Phil, I said, “Phil, why don’t you make me stay in left field? Those are my people out there, my great friends. Why would you switch me to right?” He said, “Hank, I got to.”

Neither one of us were speed merchants. That’s why I went to right field. I’m not saying nothing bad about Ralph. He was a great guy, a great player. I had to go to right because I could run a little bit better than him, I could throw a little bit better than him, and Ralph was getting to the point where he was having some bad years, but there’s not a nicer person in the world than Ralph Kiner. He was a good guy. We had a lot of fun together. I could outrun him. That’s one thing that I could do.

Phil, he was a real good friend of mine. When he went from player to manager, we were still good friends. I gave him everything he wanted and everything I had. He was a wonderful person. Something tells me he doesn’t get enough of what he deserves in Chicago. He was like a little kid when he first got there. He and I and Frankie ran around together until Phil became manager. Then we had to separate. Then we got divorced. We were the kind of guys who might have a beer or two after the game.

We didn’t make any money playing. In five years, my biggest raise was when I got to be MVP in ’52. I got up to $37,500. The other years, my greatest year, my best year, I got a $3,000 or $4,000 raise. That was 100 years ago. I think it was 100 years ago. All I can say is if it wasn’t for baseball, I don’t know what I would be doing. I would’ve been sweeping the streets, but I would’ve been the best street sweeper in Pennsylvania.

What I’ve never forgotten and I never will is I played for the greatest people in Chicago. As long as I’ve played in this game, they are the greatest people that ever lived. I don’t think anybody could ever believe they could play in a greater town than Chicago. You give the people of Chicago 100 percent of your ability and they will love you. You hit .220, but you give 100 percent and they love you. You strike out two or three times, hit into a double play two or three times, but if you run out balls, you run hard to first, the little things they notice. That’s how great the people of Chicago were. They were the kind of people who just knew. If you give them 100 percent, you’ll never get booed. If you screw up, you let up, they’ll boo. And they’re right to do it. I think the people made me better than what I was. You understand what I’m saying? They were for me and they made me feel like a millionaire. There’s no place like home. You know where my home is? Chicago.

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