Baseball is a timeless sport.
Games are decided by the passage of innings, rather than the countdown of the clock. And a passion for the game is passed down through the generations.
Yes, much of baseball transcends eras. Including some of the names of the game’s greats.
Babe Ruth. Willie Mays. Nolan Ryan. Sandy Koufax. Ted Williams. And countless others.
Few would willingly put Eddie Guardado on that list. But perhaps they should reconsider.
The legends listed above are Hall of Famers – players known for their greatness. Yet, Guardado is also legendary, thanks to his reliability.
Over an eight-year span from 1996 through 2003, Guardado pitched in at least 60 games each season for the Minnesota Twins.
Appearing in more than a third of a team’s games, year after year, is a rarity for pitchers, whose arms can tire quickly. But Guardado bucked the trend, improving over his years of high workloads. Guardado went from being a middle reliever to Minnesota’s star closer, giving up fewer runs on average with each passing year and becoming a two-time All-Star in the process.
He didn’t throw the nastiest pitches or intimidate hitters with his presence on the mound. But for Everyday Eddie, consistency paid dividends.
The curious case of Eddie Guardado speaks volumes about our mismatched desires.
All too often, we focus on flash and pizazz. These attributes captivate our imagination and unleash our sense of wonder.
But what we really want is consistency. We crave the ability for things to remain the same, time after time.
Our desire for this is mostly visible in absentia. When we run across patches of volatility, we long for a sense of stability that is out of reach. Consistency, therefore, becomes a silent expectation – one that is falsely taken for granted.
To be fair, the field coaches and managers in Minnesota did not make this error with Guardado. They kept turning to him, game in and game out. As the years went on, they even elevated Guardado’s role, giving him the ball in the critical 9th inning of ball games.
But management was not on the same page. When Guardado’s contract expired, the Twins ownership wasn’t willing to pay a premium for a reliable homegrown hurler. Guardado moved on to the Seattle Mariners instead.
Everyday Eddie was integral to Minnesota’s success on the diamond. But his value was all too invisible when compared with a Twins starting pitcher with a wipeout slider or a batter who could hit the ball halfway to St. Paul.
Those guys had the Wow factor, even if their overall performance was uneven. And as a result, those guys were the ones who got paid.
I often think of Eddie Guardado as I go about my everyday life.
After all, one of my core attributes is consistency. I show up each day and give it my all.
I demand such an approach from myself. The thought of varying my effort agitates me so much that I just don’t try it.
But I get few rewards or accolades for my steadiness. At best, this attribute is ignored. At worst, it’s taken advantage of by others.
I sometimes wonder if I’m selling myself short. If I’m limiting my potential by giving others the qualities they deserve, but not the ones they’re clamoring for.
I could follow Guardado’s lead, and head to greener pastures where my reliability will be more readily rewarded. But that would require me to uproot and break with consistency in the service of a new normal.
Why should I be the one who must change? Why must I be punished with a crucible just for going about things the right way?
I can’t stomach that. So, my story has diverged from Guardado’s. I’ve stayed the course.
It’s a rugged path. But things might be turning around.
The past few years have been incredibly disruptive.
There was the onset of a global pandemic, followed by economic volatility, and supply chain failures.
All these issues impacted multiple industries. But few took as direct a hit as the airlines.
As the nation locked down in the early days of the pandemic, air travel dried up. When it rebounded, divisive arguments over safety protocols quickly grabbed headlines — all while the airlines struggled to bring back furloughed staff.
These issues have led to a breaking point, with many flights canceled due to inadequate staffing. With the costs of airline tickets skyrocketing and few empty seats to be found, these cancellations have become logistical nightmares for travelers.
This whole ordeal has exposed the airline industry. The major air carriers spent years hawking premium perks and charging passengers for the pleasure of enjoying them. But through it all, they seemed to forget about what consumers were looking for.
Air travel turned into a spectacle of pizazz, all while basic consistency disintegrated in the background. And when the veil on this stunt was lifted, airlines were left with a black eye.
But the brands with their logos on the airplanes weren’t the only ones to take a hit during this fiasco. What we value as travelers has also faced a reckoning.
While we once might have overlooked reliability as a factor we treasured, we no longer can. We’ve seen a world of travel without consistency, and we don’t like it one bit.
In an instant, we’ve gone from lauding Babe Ruth and Willie Mays to singing the praises of Eddie Guardado. We’ve made availability our most treasured ability.
This shift might seem subtle, but it’s a game-changer. One that the airlines can only ignore at their own peril.
But why stop with air travel? This shift toward consistency could revolutionize other industries we frequent as well. It could improve outcomes while enhancing our experience. It could be the answer we need.
We can start this movement. We have the collective might to shift our society away from flash and toward reliability.
But it’s on us to make that first move. To draw a line in the sand and make clear what we stand for.
It’s important work. Let’s get to it.