Rickey Henderson stood in the box like a chess player. Small stride. Quiet hands. He waited, studied and then took his walk and smiled because the real fun was about to start. That was Rickey Henderson. A patient hitter who lived for getting on base. Then he turned into a storm. The lead grew shorter. The pitcher twitched. The crowd leaned forward. Rickey went. It felt wild and was bold and planned. He read the smallest tells. He chased one goal. Score first and score again. This is the strange beauty of Rickey. A man who preached patience, then played with fearless speed the second he touched first.
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