Ryne Sandberg reflects on ‘love, life, family and friends’ as Cubs unveil his statue outside Wrigley Field

Cubs great Ryne Sandberg set some goals when he was diagnosed with metastatic prostate cancer this past winter. He wanted to throw out a first pitch at Wrigley Field, and he wanted to attend his statue dedication on the 40th anniversary of the “Sandberg Game.”

The Hall of Famer checked off the first item at the home opener in April. And he accomplished the second on Sunday, when the Cubs unveiled the latest addition to Statue Row on Gallagher Way.

“This was a guarantee for me,” Sandberg said after the ceremony. “I kind of reverted to my baseball days of having goals and my attitude and work every day toward something. That’s what I’ve done. So it’s worked.”

An hour before the ceremony, fans had already packed the area in front of the stage. And by the time the blue curtain dropped, the crowd wrapped around the side of Wrigley Field.

The bronze figure in front of them — the fifth in a row that includes fellow Hall of Famers Ernie Banks, Fergie Jenkins, Ron Santo and Billy Williams — stood in defensive position. With his weight on the balls of his feet and hands out in front of him, he was ready for anything that came at him.

“Defense was very important for me,” Sandberg said. “For me, it was bring your glove every single day. You might go into some hitting slumps, but as far as defense goes, as long as I did my pregame work, I wanted to play defense every day for the pitcher, for everybody on the field.”

Sandberg pointed out the statue’s flip-up sunglasses, buttonless pullover jersey, elastic waistband, stirrups and the gold patch on the glove as a nod to his nine Gold Glove Awards.

“The statue reflects the ’80s, ’90s baseball for me,” said Sandberg, who also won seven Silver Slugger Awards, was a 10-time All-Star and was voted the 1984 National League MVP.

He had asked shortstops Larry Bowa and Shawon Dunston to speak at the ceremony — “The relationship between the second baseman and shortstop is very important.” And instead of diving into the many honors Sandberg collected, they focused on the person.

They referenced his work ethic, intensity and mental toughness. Bowa recounted Sandberg’s reaction to a teammate saying, “Hang in there, way to swing it,” near the end of a 1-for-32 stretch to begin his first full season in the big leagues: “You hang in there. I’m tired of them catching all these line drives.”

Bowa and Dunston shared stories about Sandberg the prankster and instigator, a side the media and general public didn’t often see. Bowa would always call out, “Ryno, you’ve got room,” when a popup was hit between them. So when Sandberg became the veteran, taking Dunston under his wing, he borrowed the phrase.

The way Dunston told it in his speech, the Gold Glove second baseman had the young shortstop take as many popups as he could get to because “there’s no bad hops in the air,” and it would pad his fielding percentage.

“He taught me little things about the game,” Dunston said. “He wanted me to keep my mind in the game at all times.”

Leaning over the railing of the steps that zigzag up the Wrigley Field facade, and the platform they lead up to, the current Cubs team looked on and listened. In full uniform. They had worked the ceremony into their pregame routine.

“Take a look up there,” said sportscaster Bob Costas, who called the ‘‘Sandberg Game’’ in 1984, when he took the mic for his speech. “That is respect.”

The team was there to hear the best second baseman in Cubs history address the crowd.

“When I first learned about this incredible honor 18 months ago, I thought quite a bit about what I would say about the magnitude of this day, about this franchise, about the amazing 1984 season and about a magical day in June some 20 — eh, some 40 years ago,” he said, pausing for laughs.

And after a couple of jabs at teammates, suggesting they looked even older than they were, Sandberg’s tone turned more serious.

“My life changed a lot in 1984, but that’s nothing compared to what happened six months ago,” he said. “So my thoughts today are instead about love, life, family and friends.”

How fitting it was, then, that his grandchildren pushed the big red button that set the unveiling in motion. The curtain dropped. Confetti flew. Fog blasted out of a machine.

And there stood Sandberg’s bronze likeness, on his toes, ready for the next pitch.