Retiring Numbers: What's the Rule?

Just before the story broke about the Rutgers basketball coach, ESPN Radio's Mike Greenberg and Colin Cowherd were talking (on Greenberg's Mike and Mike in the Morning show, where Cowherd was filling in for Greenberg's partner Mike Golic) about retired numbers, what the rules should be that govern when a team should retire a player's number.  I don't recall how the conversation got started; I think it was because NBA analyst Jeff Van Gundy had mentioned in passing that one day the Orlando Magic will probably retire their former center Dwight Howard's number, even though he left the organization via  a trade that left a bitter taste in the mouths of the fans. 

Greenberg's standards, living on the east coast from childhood, are much tougher than Cowherd's, the latter admitted.  New York and Boston have so many championships, and so players generally don't get their jerseys hung unless they've won a few (or in the case of Bill Russell, 11, or Yogi Berra, 10).  As he perused through the NBA list, he was very shocked to see more than a few discrepancies, but one he mentioned on the air was this: The Portland Trailblazers have ten players with retired numbers.  They have one won title since their inception in 1970.  The Chicago Bulls have won six titles since their inception in 1966.  They have four players' numbers retired, and only two from those six championship teams.  (If you don't know who those two are; you probably stopped reading this already.)  The Phoenix Suns have eight player numbers retired and they've won zero titles since their inception in 1968 -- a lot of great players on their list, and a few in the Hall of Fame, but to have twice as many as the Bulls? 

Cowherd is more forgiving of teams, especially west coast teams not in L.A.  Having grown up in the Pacific Northwest, he was not accustomed to seeing teams win a lot; the east coast gets tons, with the Yankees, the Celtics, the football Giants, UConn college basketball, etc.  So there may be some lesser guys, guys who have no shot at ever getting into the HOF, who get their numbers retired; they meant a lot to their fans, so it's more for them.  Okay, it's idiotic that the San Diego Padres retired Steve Garvey's number when he played most of his career for the L.A. Dodgers, and that the Tampa Bay Rays retired Wade Boggs' number when he was at the very very end of his career when he got there.

Generally speaking, I would say that baseball does a very good job in the retired number department, those obvious idiocies notwithstanding.  The Seattle Mariners have no retired numbers, though Ken Griffey Jr's will be the first soon enough.  (The Seattle SuperSonics, who no longer exist -- the franchise moved to Oklahoma City -- have six. They won one title.)  Football is pretty stingy, too, with retiring numbers; again, the Seattle Seahawks have one retired number.

I tend to side with Greenberg on this: a player should be one of the very best; in a handful of cases a "fan favorite" probably deserves consideration, like a Cedric Maxwell.  The player should be instantly associated, mentally, with that team -- or even teams.  Examples:  Kareem Abdul-Jabbar first played with the Milwaukee Bucks, winning their only title in 1971.  After many years there, he was traded to the Los Angeles Lakers and won five titles.  Wilt Chamberlain was also associated with multiple NBA teams and was great everywhere he went.  Reggie White's number was retired by the Philadelphia Eagles, where he earned his reputation, and by the Green Bay Packers, who won their first title in decades with White as the defensive leader.  In an example similar to that of White, Mark Messier played on those amazing Edmonton Oiler teams that won a bunch of Stanley Cups -- with and without the greatest player who ever lived, Wayne Gretzky -- and then in 1991 came to New York, still a very good player but no longer at the top of his game -- but did something no star had done for fifty-four years: win a Cup for the Rangers.  Messier's importance to the 1994 team that won it cannot be overstated; he famously guaranteed that the Rangers, down three games to two in a classic series against their cross-tunnel rivals the New Jersey Devils, would win game six in New Jersey -- and then backed up his words by scoring a hat trick in the third period to win it.  That's why his number hangs at Madison Square Garden, along with those of three others who were so pivotal in the victory. 

I'm sure you can cut the lists down for many teams, especially in the NBA.  If you're not making your sport's hall of fame, you have to make a really good case for why your number should be retired.  The New York Knicks, whose history in the NBA goes back to the league's beginning, have eight players' numbers retired.  Only one comes from the early days, Dick McGuire.  One comes from more recent times, Patrick Ewing.  The rest come from the teams that won their two titles in the early seventies.  Yes, that's more than the Bulls teams that have six titles in a lot less time, but remember: of the six players from those championship teams, five are in the Hall of Fame; the 1973 championship team's entire starting lineup is in the Hall of Fame, and the sixth player, Dick Barnett, the starting point guard on the 1970 team, was a borderline hall of famer. 

You can't be so tough that you make championships the standard; you'd have no Cub jerseys retired.  The Boston Red Sox had a general rule: a certain length of time with the team and being in the Hall.  The Mets have retired one player's number: 41, and that's as it should be.  As great as that 1986 championship team was, none of those players stayed long enough with the team to deserve the honor.  Gary Carter was not here long enough, nor was Keith Hernandez.  The two players whose numbers should  have been retired were Darryl Strawberry and Dwight Gooden, but their substance abuse wrecked their Hall of Fame trajectories.  

There are always exceptions to the general policies of sustained greatness for one team, the earning of titles, and enduring popularity/significance to the fans.  Some players get honored because of tragic circumstances: the New Jersey Nets retired Drazen Petrovic's number 3, after he was killed in a car crash.  Petro was a very good player whose career was cut way too short to ordinarily justifying such an honor. 

There are always a few fan favorites that maybe should be considered.  As a Met fan I kinda wish they'd retired Ed Kranepool's number 7; he was the Last Original Met, a local kid who made good and became in his final years a masterful pinch-hitter.  That's sentiment talking for sure.

But I think the biggest amnesty should be for the following circumstances.

First, every starter for the 2004 Boston Red Sox -- position players and pitchers, and probably a few key bench players and closer Jonathan Papelbohn -- should have his number retired as soon as they are out of baseball.  Pedro. Schilling. Manny. Big Papi.  All of them.  For chrissake they broke the curse, and did so in ridiculously dramatic fashion.  I absolutely think the Red Sox should do that.  The same will apply to the 2109 Chicago Cubs, when they finally break their curse.

And just one more: I think the Mets should retire no. 57, for the man who threw the team's first no-hitter in its 50-year history, and may have paid the ultimate price for it, Johann Santana.  Some things you just hafta do.

Here's links: NFL list of retired numbers; NHL's list (from wikipedia, which probably tells you something about the sport's popularity in the US), and one list each for both the American and National Leagues of baseball.  Worth noting: the NBA list did not have Dick Barnett included, so if you see any other missing numbers, go contact the league or team's webmaster.